Chapter 10
I didn't get to hold a sword for ten whole days.
All I did for ten days was chop wood, cut it into pieces, roll it, and stack it.
It wasn't entirely in vain. During that time, I gained valuable calluses and put on weight. Although my newly formed muscles weren't visibly noticeable, my body gained balance, and my endurance definitely increased compared to before.
The terrible potion also played a significant role. It helped me recover immediately the next day and handle an even higher intensity of work, even after doing hard labor that should have laid me up for a week.
By the ninth day, I became so skilled and had so much endurance left that I finished all the assigned work just after noon.
This was also why I became interested in alchemy. Alchemy and potion-making had power as strong as magic. After finishing training and when night fell, I took out alchemy books from Silveryn's library and read them until bedtime.
On the eleventh day, Silveryn had me carve wood and erect poles in the clearing.
These poles were set up in six rows of four, spaced one step apart, for a total of 24 poles.
Since the wood pieces weren't cut very large, to begin with, the height of the poles only reached my thighs. After making this thing of unknown purpose, Silveryn said, "This is your training ground."
I looked at Silveryn once, then turned my head to look at the poles. Then I turned my gaze back to Silveryn again.
She nodded as if confirming that what I saw was correct.
"Get up on the poles."
"...?"
"Step on them and stand on top."
Several questions arose in my mind, but for now, I followed Silveryn's instructions and stepped onto the poles. There was enough area for one foot but not enough for both feet.
"You'll do your sword training on top of these."
I couldn't believe my ears. How could I do sword training when it was hard enough just to keep balance here?
If I took one wrong step, I would fall right over. It took my breath away.
As I was wondering if all knights trained like this, Silveryn spoke as if reading my mind, "If you're going to spend your life just going around tournaments with knights playing pat-a-cake, you don't need this training. But even if you sweep up trophies doing such things, it won't guarantee your life."
"..."
"Enemies won't kindly come out on flat ground to fight you, considering your circumstances. The first thing you need to do is adapt to places where there's nowhere to put your feet."
I immediately dove into training.
The start was getting used to stepping on these wooden poles. I trained not only in forward movement but also in side steps and back steps.
Silveryn watched me and corrected my posture one by one.
"Don't look down, look straight ahead. Move as if there's an enemy in front of you. Are you going to keep looking at the ground even if a sword comes flying?"
"You should feel the ground with your senses. You're not stepping while looking with your eyes."
Because I had to find footing only by sensation, there were many cases where I misstepped and fell.
Every time, I fell and gained a new bruise, and my skills grew a little.
This training continued into the next day.
As I gradually became proficient in the stepping training, Silveryn raised the difficulty a bit more.
With a gesture from Silveryn, the maids placed a basket next to her. It was full of pebbles.
"It's simple. Catch the stones I throw."
When I just heard it, it seemed like it would be easy, but when I actually did it, I felt it was on a different level from before.
Silveryn would throw the pebbles in an arc, and I had to step and move to the expected landing point to catch the stone.
But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. If I focused on where to step, the stone would be on the ground, and if I focused on the stone, I would often misstep and fall.
It was training that required coordination of arms and legs and a high level of concentration.
After starting this training, the number of times I fell doubled.
On the first day, I could catch about three out of ten throws, on the third day, seven, and by the fifth day, I could easily catch everything thrown.
Silveryn didn't stop there.
"Looks like you've gotten used to it now."
Saying that, she randomly chose three poles, pulled them out, and threw them away.
That was how she erased familiarity and once again pushed me into a new environment.
Furthermore, Silveryn had the butlers modify my training ground every day.
By changing the height of some poles or replacing them with thin stakes, for example.
And I gradually adapted to these changes. At some point, standing on these wooden poles began to feel as comfortable as standing on the ground.
Even when Silveryn threw stones at high speed, I could catch them all without missing one.
Finally, she put down the stones and said, "That's enough."
"Enough...?"
"Congratulations. You've passed stage 1 of Zeldan Hart's test."
She took out an old parchment from her bosom and stretched out her arm as if telling me to take it.
I came down and took the paper she handed me, and read it.
It listed training instructions just like what I had received so far. And at the bottom was Zeldan Hart's signature.
"You finished faster than the period Zeldan Hart mentioned, so you're quite useful by the standards of the person who wrote this. Although it's still only stage 1."
"...But who is this person?"
"..."
"What's wrong?"
"You don't know Zeldan Hart...?"
"No."
Silveryn shook her head silently, looking at me with a pitying face.
"Teacher?"
Silveryn left before me.
"Nevermind, I'm going first."
That night, I rummaged through books in Silveryn's mansion library to satisfy my curiosity.
And I was able to find Zeldan Hart's name without much difficulty.
Upon discovering his name, I sighed and hit my forehead.
If one uses a sword... it’s a name one should definitely know.
One of only 10 Sword Masters in the whole world.
The one who reached the pinnacle among those 10
And finally reached the absolute realm of the sword.
Zeldan Hart was the name of that legendary “Sword God”.
***
The opponent's sword fell.
Nash, the second-year classmate who agreed to be the sparring partner, bit his lip. Although Nash was talented enough to be in the advanced class of the Combat Department, he was no match for Flynn in swordsmanship.
From footwork to strength, sense, and technique, there was nothing to fault. His sword skills far surpassed the second-year level. No wonder there were rumors that the Imperial Knights had approached Flynn several times.
He had only lasted for a while due to the sword match being performed with wooden swords. If they had used real swords, Nash would have been overwhelmed by Flynn's sword aura and fallen after just a few exchanges.
Only Flynn and Elliot, among the first and second-year students, could produce sword aura. These two were called geniuses among geniuses, possessing overwhelming skills.
"Damn it."
Flynn held out his hand to Nash, who had fallen, and said, "There's nothing to be frustrated about. I've been holding a sword since I could walk. Just considering experience, this is a natural result."
Nash took Flynn's hand and stood up, saying, "Have you been this annoying since you could walk too?"
Flynn smirked and turned around. Nash grabbed him again, "Let's do it again. This time with real swords."
Flynn shook his head.
"Professor Gael called for me. I have to go."
Nash deliberately provoked him, "Should I spread rumors that you chickened out?"
"..."
"I'll bring Professor Gael here. You'll be lying here soon anyway."
Flynn shook his head wearily at Nash's obvious provocation.
Then he drew the sword at his waist and said, "I can't play for long."
"Yeah, that's more like it."
Nash inwardly admired the sword Flynn held.
Occam's Sword. It was a legendary sword passed down through Flynn's Ermia family for generations. A famous sword said to have been bestowed by the Dwarf King 400 years ago when the first head of the Ermia family distinguished himself in war.
The smooth blade was enchanted with runes to respond well to the user's mana.
Nash requested a real sword match, even knowing he was no match for Flynn, just to see that sword one more time.
Nash also picked up his own sword that he had thrown to one side of the sparring ground and drew it from its scabbard.
He grinned and boasted, "It won't be easy."
The two faced each other with their swords pointed at each other.
A blue haze was rising from Flynn's sword. It was sword aura.
For a moment, the air felt heavy.
Due to the pressure of the sword aura, cold sweat had already formed on Nash's spine.
This standoff didn't last long.
Nash charged at Flynn first, letting out a battle cry.
Flynn easily stepped out of Nash's range with a backstep. Without necessarily clashing swords, Flynn lightly avoided Nash's sword and immediately leaped at Nash.
Nash hesitated for a moment due to the recoil of wildly swinging his sword. Flynn seized that opportunity to strike.
The match was decided with just one exchange.
Clang.
When Nash came to his senses and raised his hand, only the sword hilt was left in it.
The blade was lying on the ground.
Flynn put his sword back at his waist and said, "Well then, rest. I'm going."
Nash sat down on the ground with a bitter laugh.
Flynn walked down the corridor, cooling off his sweat. He tidied up his disheveled clothes and caught his breath.
Flynn knocked on the door of Gael's office. He heard a voice telling him to come in. He then opened the door and stepped inside.
Gael was sitting on the windowsill, wiping her sword with a dry cloth.
"Master Gael, you called for me?"
"Come in."
Gael gestured for him to sit. Flynn sat in a guest chair somewhat distant from Gael.
"I'm sorry, my sweat hasn't dried yet from coming straight from training."
"When have I ever cared about such things? How’s your father?"
"He's doing much better."
"That's good."
"But why did you call me?"
Gael made a meaningful expression and said, "I have a personal favor to ask."
Gael was Flynn's master. She had entered as a private tutor when Flynn was 11 and continued their connection to the academy. It was all thanks to Gael that Flynn was able to enter the academy smoothly. Flynn had a stubborn nature of always repaying what he received, and because of this, he always felt indebted to Gael.
"I'll do anything if it's helpful."
Gael nodded lightly. Judging by her expression, it didn't seem like she was going to make a difficult request.
"...Yes, it won't be difficult."