Chapter 29: With the Jet-Black Knights [Part Two]

The following day, Ren left the mansion shortly after sunrise and headed for Lion’s Holy Office.

He had not completely recovered from the previous day’s exhaustion, but his body felt considerably lighter than expected. That was enough to reassure him. He had no intention of resting over so little, and he set out even more motivated than before.

Despite the early hour, knights were already training inside Lion’s Holy Office.

Ren had met Edgar immediately after arriving in the Imperial Capital, so this time he entered without delay and went straight to the training ground at the far end of the vast atrium.

The same large knight from the previous day was waiting there.

“You came early.”

“I’m still only a student. I have to train whenever I have the chance.”

“A fine attitude. I wish some of the younger full knights could hear it.”

The man quickly added that he did not mean every young knight.

“Some believe that becoming a full knight is the end of their journey. That complacency is nothing but excess weight upon the heart of a knight.”

His criticism applied regardless of sword style.

Ren listened with interest while loosening his body for training. It was not the sort of perspective he often had an opportunity to hear.

Edgar, who had arrived before him, then explained the day’s plan.

“We will begin by reviewing yesterday’s instruction. If time permits, I will then provide technical guidance while you cross swords with another practitioner.”

“Edgar-dono, in that case, allow me to face him again,” the large knight offered.

“Oh? Are you certain?”

“Yes. I am off duty today, so I can accompany him without watching the time.”

“That would be most helpful. Thank you.”

The man had already implied that he was Sword Adept-class. Ren could hardly ask for a better sparring partner.

He welcomed the chance to face someone strong, especially with Edgar present to explain what he needed to improve.

After completing his preparations, Ren spent the next several minutes reviewing the previous day’s lesson with Edgar.

The dark winter sky gradually brightened above the atrium. Edgar believed that practical combat without theory could not produce victory, so he took his time with every part of the review.

Two days passed in that manner, then three.

The year ended, but Ren remained absorbed in Mighty Sword Style training.

He had intended to practice fighting monsters with Licia as well. However, she and Lessard had become occupied with their duties as nobles, so the delay suited both of them.

Edgar was Ulysses’s butler and could not remain beside Ren at all times. Even so, Ren continued to train at Lion’s Holy Office against its Mighty Sword practitioners.

One morning, Edgar came to observe him and thoughtfully stroked his beard.

“You noticed it as well, Edgar-dono?”

One of the knights approached him.

“Since when has Ren-dono looked like that?”

“Since yesterday. He has trained until he could no longer move every day. It appears he is on the verge of grasping something.”

“That explains the difference.”

The knights of Lion’s Holy Office were not trying to defeat Ren as an enemy. Nevertheless, even in training they struck him with the power of Mighty Sword Style—with Mantle.

Constantly receiving those attacks placed a tremendous burden on his body.

Yet Ren never surrendered. He continued until exhaustion stopped him.

“I believe he may truly master Mantle.”

“It would not surprise me,” Edgar replied. “You have already seen his aptitude, and he possesses the diligence to match it. Even so, he has trained with remarkable intensity since the day he first came here.”

“By repeatedly receiving Mighty Sword strikes, his body is learning the sensation.”

Edgar turned away after hearing that.

“Edgar-dono, will you not speak to him?”

“No. At this moment, silence may serve him better.”

Ren stood at the center of the training ground, repeatedly receiving the large knight’s greatsword.

He was desperately reaching for something just beyond his grasp.

Edgar could not bring himself to interrupt.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Counting from before the New Year, it was the tenth day of Ren’s training.

At almost eight in the morning, Edgar checked his pocket watch.

“It is nearly time.”

Edgar had arranged to remain with Ren throughout the day. He approached the large knight, who was training with several others, and asked him to serve as Ren’s opponent again after the review.

The spar resembled their previous matches, yet something had changed.

Ren still struggled against the man’s physical strength and Mighty Sword Style, but his movements had transformed. Fatigue remained in his body, yet there was no stiffness. A new composure in his swordsmanship allowed him to redirect part of the greatsword’s impact.

“Oh?”

The large knight grinned in surprise.

In barely ten days, Ren had acquired a steadier center of gravity and a small but unmistakable margin when receiving the greatsword.

Then, shortly before lunch, Ren met one of the man’s downward blows head-on.

For the first time, he stopped it.

(What was that?)

He did not understand how he had blocked the strike so differently from moments before.

The shock had not travelled through the core of his body. It had remained in his hands—more precisely, at his fingertips.

That distinction felt important, though he could not yet explain why.

Edgar’s lips curved with admiration.

“At last,” the large knight murmured.

Ren’s body swayed. He had trained without enough time even to catch his breath, and his body finally demanded rest.

“That will be enough for now. We will continue after lunch, Ren-sama.”

“Yes… understood.”

Ren thanked his opponent, and Edgar led him from the training ground. Lion’s Holy Office had no dining hall, so they left to eat at a nearby restaurant.

After they were gone, another knight approached the large man.

“That last exchange… was it what I think it was?”

“…Yes.”

The large knight held out his hand.

It was trembling faintly.

When Ren had stopped the greatsword, the impact had travelled back into the attacker’s hand.

Ren knew nothing of that conversation. He walked beside Edgar in silence, listening to his own footsteps echo through Lion’s Holy Office while staring into the distance.

Edgar did not disturb him. Every second of that silence could become another step in Ren’s growth.

They barely spoke during lunch or on the return journey. Their conversation amounted to ordering food and confirming that they would return to Lion’s Holy Office.

Even after afternoon training began, almost three hours passed before Ren spoke again.

After reviewing the morning’s lesson, he resumed sparring with the large knight and chased the sensation he had briefly felt.

Then heat rose from deep within his body.

It resembled the force he had always felt when receiving a Mighty Sword strike, but this time it gathered in his own hands.

Power filled his fingertips and the hands gripping his training sword.

“Has he opened the gate?” someone whispered.

The watching knights held their breath.

Ren suddenly stopped in the center of the training ground. His opponent also lowered his sword and waited.

The heat within Ren’s body vanished, replaced by an extraordinary calm.

Still holding his training sword, Ren remembered the day he had shattered the crystal inside the vial.

The weariness in his hands, fingertips, and battered body seemed to disappear.

In truth, his exhaustion remained. Yet for the first time, he felt as though he could do anything.

“Please attack once more.”

After remaining silent for so long, Ren’s request drew every eye.

His gaze was different. It was profoundly calm, and the knights thought they glimpsed part of the lion Edgar had once perceived within him.

“Very well! Here I come!”

The large knight unconsciously tightened his grip on the greatsword and allowed power to surge through his entire body.

He brought the weapon down faster and more sharply than ever before.

Ren appeared relaxed, yet raised his sword in an instant and caught the greatsword directly above him.

“What—!?”

The weapons collided with an ear-splitting crash.

Ren’s hands did not move.

Instead, the large knight was forced half a step backward.

Ren changed his grip and swung in return.

“Haaaaaaah!”

“Ngh… oooh!”

The large knight blocked the strike.

A shockwave shook the air and swept across the entire atrium.

His greatsword fell from his hands and struck the floor with a clang.

Sweat ran from his brow. As he steadied his breathing, he displayed a broad, delighted grin.

“Edgar-dono…!”

“Indeed. It is still limited to his hands, but the future before him is fearsome.”

The knights had just witnessed something extraordinary.

Edgar approached while applauding. Ren remained frozen, staring at his own hands.

“Congratulations.”

This breakthrough had not come from nowhere.

It was the result of the months Ren had devoted to Mighty Sword Style, his repeated exchanges with Edgar, the many spars at Lion’s Holy Office, and the aptitude he had possessed from the beginning.

At last, all of it had borne fruit.

“For now, you can use it only in your hands. After several more months, however, you should be able to envelop your entire body.”

“Then this is…”

“Yes. That sensation is Mantle.”

Edgar finally spoke the words he had long wanted to give him.

“From this day forward, Ren-sama, you are a Mighty Sword practitioner.”

Ren Ashton had taken his first true step in Mighty Sword Style.

Although Mantle covered only the hands that held his sword, the refined mana was unmistakably his own.

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