Let Us Meet Again
All schedules at the Wall had come to an end, and the final day of Young Master Klein's exile had arrived.
Kaaang-!
Dozens of weapons were embedded throughout the training ground.
Ignoring the shattered and broken weapons littered everywhere, Klein and Ian continued exchanging swords in the sparring arena.
"Good, good! Come at me harder!"
Kagagak-!
The moment Ian twisted away Klein's thrusting sword, a kick came flying toward him.
An ordinary knight would have widened the distance here and prepared for the next strike.
But he was different.
Thunk!
Raising the short spear hidden in his left hand upward, Klein deflected Ian's kick.
Without missing the opening, he immediately slipped inward and slashed toward Ian's front.
"Not happening!"
It was an astonishing off-beat combination attack, but his opponent was the one and only Ian Leinrant.
He instantly snatched up the short spear tangled around his foot and spun it in place to stop Klein's charge.
It was such a bizarre sight that it looked as though the spear were rotating through the air on its own.
"How is any of this supposed to be swordsmanship?! You're more like an acrobat!"
"To hold prejudice against martial arts—your perspective is hopelessly narrow!"
With those words, the short spear floating in the air flew toward me.
A direct trajectory aimed straight at my head.
If I twisted my body to dodge, it would become impossible to chain into the next movement.
"How is that guy blind in any way?!"
Yet instead of avoiding it, Young Master Klein stretched out his hand toward the empty air.
Kwachik-!
The destructive sound of something solid being pierced rang out.
A Skeleton arm that had emerged in midair blocked the incoming short spear.
"Wha—!? Using necromancy in a spar? That's cheating!"
"Weren't you the one saying not to be prejudiced? Then you shouldn't discriminate against techniques either!"
"What kind of ridiculous sophistry is that?!"
Kaaang-!
The duel between the two swordsmen had already continued for two full hours.
The gazes of the knights training nearby and the watchers resting after their shift naturally gathered there.
"I'd only heard rumors about Sir Ian's skill…"
"It's beyond imagination."
Ian wasn't using only a sword against Klein.
Greatswords, short spears, long spears.
Hammers, flails—even the flags planted in the corner of the training ground.
Right now, he was pressuring Klein while treating everything he could get his hands on as a weapon.
"This is…!"
But what truly captivated the knights wasn't Ian's martial skill.
Kaaang-!
A short spear against Ian's short spear.
Klein, who perfectly matched every new weapon Ian picked up with an identical one of his own, was now flawlessly copying Ian's swordsmanship.
"How old is the young master again?"
"Fifteen. I can hardly believe it even seeing it myself."
It takes nearly a lifetime to completely master even a single weapon.
Yet at the young age of fifteen, Young Master Klein was reproducing all of Ian Leinrant's swordsmanship.
"If he'd received his Cycle at the proper time…"
"The successor might have changed."
How much longer did the spar continue amid the knights' sighs?
"Huaaap-!"
Mana began flowing into Ian's sword, and a strike incomparably stronger than before surged toward Klein.
"You said you wouldn't use mana?!"
"You used necromancy too! Be grateful I'm only paying you back this much!"
As Ian spoke, his sword had already reached right in front of Klein.
Yet upon seeing it, Klein's eyes instead shone brightly.
Kaaang-!
A knight clad in black armor blocked Ian's mana-infused sword.
And at the same time, a shadow that appeared behind Ian swung its blade toward him.
"What the hell, did the number of those bastards increase again?!"
For the first time, a trace of agitation appeared in Ian's eyes.
Twisting his body, Ian dodged the sword strike pouring down from behind.
"Your front is open, Uncle!"
But Klein did not miss the opening that appeared in that brief instant.
Paaak-!
He immediately kicked Ian upward, launching him into the air.
Ian detects opponents through ground vibrations and sound. Which means if he's suspended in the air, half his detection methods disappear.
And without footing, dodging would become impossible.
If the two Death Knights' swords landed like this, Klein would win.
"Hector, Raven!"
The two Death Knights took stance toward the airborne Ian.
As though reflected in a mirror, they assumed identical postures.
Their mana arrays and wavelengths resonated with one another, maximizing the power.
But—
"You brat. Of course I left that opening on purpose!"
Bwoooong-!
Along with Ian's delighted voice, sword strikes poured toward Klein.
The combined technique of the two Death Knights collided against Ian's majestic mana.
Kiiiiing-!
The two completely different techniques clashed together with a metallic shriek.
And the moment they reached critical point—
Kukwuaaaang-!
With a thunderous explosion, blinding light swept across the entire training ground.
"Urgh?!"
"Are they seriously trying to blow up the whole sparring arena?!"
The shockwave spreading from the center of the training ground instantly swept away all the surrounding snow.
"…Tch, failed again."
Along with the grumbling voice heard within, the dust cleared, revealing the result of the spar at a glance.
The upper body of one Death Knight had been completely blown away, while the other had lost both arms.
Klein himself, the caster, was utterly exhausted.
Yet Ian, who watched it all with a satisfied expression, didn't even have a scratch on him.
"Haa…"
To think he couldn't leave even a single wound despite using everything he had.
Letting out a hollow sigh, Klein sheathed the sword he had been holding and collapsed onto the spot.
"I lost!"
With those words, the fifteenth and final spar came to an end.
The record stood at 15 to 0.
Ian's complete victory.
"You're cleaning the training ground again this time."
"I know. Seriously, how can I not win even once?"
Although the speed at which I regained my breath had become incomparably faster than before, there was no time to celebrate it.
If even a single strike landed, it was my victory.
If I declared defeat, it was my loss.
Even with those handicaps—and even after using necromancy—I still couldn't defeat him in the end.
And the mana synchronization I tried at the end failed too. As expected, is it because of the output difference…
As I dismissed the heavily battered Hector, I sank into thought.
Unlike Raven, whose mana reserves rivaled those of a captain-class knight, Hector was only around the level of an ordinary knight.
Forcing synchronization between two mana sources with different outputs was bound to overload them.
As a backlash, both of Raven's arms had exploded off as well…
It was then—
"Hey, Klein."
"What."
"Do something about this thing!"
At Ian's words, I broke out of my thoughts and looked toward him.
Death Knight Raven was continuously flailing his legs around, trying to kick Ian.
A suit of knight armor without arms wildly throwing kicks around.
This wasn't even comedy anymore…
"Why aren't you going back? The fight's over."
—No. Not yet.
As Raven said that and tried approaching Ian again, I activated the engraving and halted his movements.
—Are you standing in the way of my battle?
"What battle? Both your arms got blown off!"
—…
Only then did Raven seem to realize his condition, glancing back and forth at his empty shoulders.
After staying silent for a while, the thing he finally said was—
—I never had arms to begin with.
"Bullshit!"
Kkang-!
I smashed Raven's helmet with the sword I was holding and dismissed the summon.
Seeing Raven seriously spout such absurd nonsense made the back of my neck tighten on its own.
"How is there not a single normal person among you people…"
While I groaned like that, Ian pulled one of the swords stuck in the training ground free and shouted toward the knights.
"I'm taking this sword!"
"There are plenty of better swords in the armory. Why take that one?"
One of the knights asked while looking at the badly chipped blade.
"I tried most of the weapons in the armory during my stay here, but this one felt the best."
As he said that, he looked at the sword hanging from his waist.
The sword that had never broken even once during our fifteen days of sparring.
Ian seemed quite fond of it as he approached me with a satisfied grin.
"I taught you, sure, but I never expected you to reproduce everything."
"I was born talented. Honestly, it wasn't that difficult."
I worked hard, and I was desperate too, but those were secondary matters.
The biggest reason I was able to learn the dozens—no, hundreds—of sword techniques Ian displayed…
…was the ability I possessed.
"You stayed arrogant till the very end."
"Better than being lazy like you, Uncle."
After exchanging insults one more time, Ian and I soon smiled at each other.
"There's nothing more I can teach you technically. Learn the rest in real combat."
"I plan to."
For someone calling himself my teacher, it was a remarkably irresponsible statement.
But I willingly nodded in agreement.
To begin with, Ian only protected me while we were at the Wall.
Now it was time for each of us to go our separate ways.
"Where are you headed, Uncle?"
"Felician."
A trade nation located in the eastern continent, and the homeland of all the continent's mages.
Alongside the Empire, it was also the only country that possessed a magic research institution—the Magic Tower.
"You're going far."
"I've gotta get as far away as possible while the Empire's lapdogs aren't watching. And besides…"
"And besides?"
At my question, Ian's grin deepened.
"I'm starting to smell something rotten over there."
The face of a mischievous brat filled with competitive spirit.
Something's probably going to happen in Felician soon.
While I was thinking that, Ian held out his fist toward me.
"…What? You want to fight again?"
"Don't you know what a farewell is? It means let's meet again next time! Dense idiot!"
"Puhahaha-!"
The moment I deliberately played dumb, Ian immediately shouted back at me.
"If there's a chance, we'll meet again."
As I said that, I bumped my fist against his.
"Don't die."
"You too, Uncle."
At those words, Ian chuckled and turned his back.
The direction he headed was east.
His brief period of rest was over, and he would return once more to being a wandering blind swordsman.
"Well then, I should get going too."
With that, I picked up the travel bag resting at one side of the training ground.
The backpack was packed full with preserved rations and camping gear.
…And even that thing brought from the Ice Castle.
Though the luggage was far heavier than when I first arrived, the body carrying it felt much lighter.
"You're both leaving without any notice at all."
The one who stopped me just as I was about to shoulder the pack was Corax.
"We caused enough chaos coming in here, so it's better to leave quietly."
"It's already too late for that."
At Corax's words, I looked around.
Every knight of the Great Raven Knights was staring at me.
"What, do I have to stay longer?"
"That's not it."
"Then why's everyone gathered here?"
As I asked in confusion, Corax approached and held something out.
In his hand was a black cloak decorated with long fur.
It was the cloak worn by the Great Raven Knights who guarded the Wall.
"It's a gift. I heard the road ahead is cold, so wear it."
Before I could even respond, Corax unfolded it and draped it over my shoulders.
Black fur hanging beneath thick feathers.
The cold I had been feeling until just moments ago vanished completely.
"Isn't this expensive? You can just give it away like that?"
"We get supplies anyway."
After saying that, Corax looked at me wearing the cloak and nodded with satisfaction.
"As expected, it suits you well."
…Why do these bastards' eyes look so strange?
I had barely finished thinking that when—
Schwaaang-!
The knights watching me all drew their swords at once and pressed them against their chests.
Dozens of blades rose toward the sky.
It looked like a salute.
Or perhaps some sort of vow.
"…What are you guys doing?"
"Hahaha."
As I asked with a bewildered expression, Corax let out a low laugh.
That stone-faced bastard laughing.
It was the first time I'd seen it since arriving at the Wall.
"It's our own form of farewell. Please don't mind it."
"That's pretty grand for a farewell… Ah, whatever. I won't even ask anymore."
If I kept talking, it would only drag on longer.
I slung the backpack in one hand over my shoulder and raised my hand toward them.
"I'm leaving! Don't go dying somewhere!"
Words far too frivolous to come from the son of a ducal house.
Yet the knights seemed more comfortable with that instead, smiling as they saw me off.
"If you ever need anything, call for us anytime!"
"The Great Ravens will always stand with the Young Master!"
Hearing the voices echoing from the distant Wall, I let out a hollow laugh.
"…But didn't they say the Great Ravens only swear loyalty to the Duke and his heir?"
Remembering our first meeting, I muttered that to myself before shrugging.
Whatever. Probably just some rookie knight who didn't know what he was talking about.