Chapter 9

Sirone arrived right on time, finding Lian already waiting at the training ground. The impending battle hung heavily in the air. Both of them stood motionless, their eyes locked onto each other’s swords.

“Let’s begin,” Lian declared, his weapon a longsword.

The Ojent style of swordsmanship was known for its aggression and free-spirited energy and was traditionally tailored for a greatsword rather than a longsword. This, of course, was under the premise of utilizing Schema. Therefore, Lian’s selection of a longsword wasn’t out of consideration for Sirone, but rather, it was a weapon that suited him best.

Lian keenly observed his opponent’s inner movement stance, which was a foundational stance Sirone had learned as a novice. The Ojent boy also noticed that Sirone’s center of gravity had become considerably more stable than last time. How is that possible? Upon witnessing Sirone’s talent, akin to Lye’s, a sudden thought crossed his mind. Maybe he never really learned swordsmanship. But... how can he be so calm when holding a sword for the first time? Is he not afraid of death?

Even he wasn’t immune to the fear of death. It was this fear that drove him to train tirelessly, seeking to cultivate the courage needed to face it head-on. No matter how gifted he may be, he could never match the depth of my training. But how is he so calm?

Of course, Sirone was well aware of this fact too. It dawned on him, a novice in swordsmanship, that he couldn’t navigate a life-or-death duel with the same expertise as his opponent. And so, he embarked on a unique training regimen. If I can’t conquer the fear, I’ll come to understand it, he resolved. It was a method akin to leaping off a cliff. Without imagining the next moment, anyone can jump off a cliff. Fear resides in the future, which is nothing more than an illusory construct.

It was like a powerful ruler, completely at ease, enjoying a feast in front of a group of rebels. Sirone envisioned himself standing on a cliff. With his right foot extending to the cliff’s edge, followed by his left, he hung in mid-air. Until I fall, I’m not fallen. Until I die, I’m not dead.

In this manner, he sought to grasp the essence of danger, demonstrating that, at times, a calculating intellect was more formidable than the audacity of a warrior. As a result, Sirone’s newly-composed mind significantly bolstered his stability within the Spirit Zone.

“Here I come!” In mere moments, Lian closed the distance. A flash of light danced before Sirone’s eyes, an undeniable display of swordsmanship on a level entirely distinct from his own.

Wait... I can sense it. Having discerned the sword’s trajectory through his heightened senses, Sirone calmly leaned his upper body to the side. Eyes wide open, he evaded the blade. The astonishment on Lian’s face was palpable.

Is he truly reading the movements of my sword?

Avoiding a genuine blade through perception was a feat that eluded even many seasoned practitioners. Yet, swords held their own infinite mysteries. As the attacks multiplied, Sirone’s perception started to discern angles. When the blade swept past his chest, his Spirit Zone trembled intensely, and Sirone’s heart sank. Damn it! At this rate, he might land a hit.

However, contrary to his expectations, Lian persisted with powerful strikes. This allowed Sirone to anticipate the next trajectory and evade the imminent threat. Sirone was taken aback by the predictability of his attacks. It would be straightforward to end it with a swift horizontal slash. But Lian, oblivious to Sirone’s revelation, continued with his broad movements. It was only then that Sirone realized something. His grasp of swordsmanship is not as advanced as I thought. While he demonstrated proficiency in techniques, there appeared to be a lack of fundamental contemplation of their purpose. In that case...

Sirone adjusted his assessment of Lian’s skill level downward. Being too complacent was dangerous, but assuming the enemy was too strong also eliminated the chance for counterattacks. I’ll attack now. When Sirone abruptly shifted tactics and went on the offensive, Lian recoiled with a sharp exhale of breath in surprise. The exchanges kept coming, and with the tension in the air, their stamina began to deplete rapidly.

Damn it! Lian cursed inwardly. This can’t be! How is this possible? He’s just using a basic slashing technique, but why is it so difficult to block it? I can’t even see his moves clearly. Suddenly, Lye’s detestable face and the sneer he wore after effortlessly subduing Lian with one hand in their duel two years ago came to mind.

“Don’t make me laugh!” Lian shouted as he charged. “I will become the world’s greatest swordsman!”

Sirone was puzzled. While his opponent’s vigor to forge ahead in adversity was admirable, this way would only bring about his own demise. Doesn’t he want to win? Why is he being so stubborn? Is he even thinking?

But he quickly realized his opponent’s ploy. Lian’s moves were no longer readable. He was wildly swinging his sword with an empty mind, making his attacks unpredictable.

“I won’t lose to you!” Lian shouted as he gained the upper hand, and Sirone’s stamina hit rock bottom. He had conserved his energy with utmost efficiency, but there undeniably existed an absolute chasm between their training volumes. Sirone’s sword felt like it was getting heavier. “This ends here!” He extended his longsword and swung it down as if he were going to split Sirone in half.

In response, Sirone mustered every ounce of his strength and struck his sword downward, meeting Lian’s strike with unwavering determination. With a sharp clang, the blade soared into the air and landed far from the sparring grounds. A stillness settled over them. Breathing heavily, the two locked eyes. Lian was the first to look down, gazing at Sirone’s sword, now touching his chest.

In the critical moment just before impact, Sirone executed a swift wrist twist, propelling Lian’s sword upward from below. The added momentum, combined with the force of the collision, drained his opponent’s stamina, causing him to lose his grip on the weapon.

Impossible! It was an extraordinary move, one that couldn’t be executed with certainty. The key lay not in skill alone but in the cold, calculating mind that determined the outcome.

As Sirone struggled to catch his breath, he remained vigilant, unwilling to let his guard down. Though he yearned to collapse in exhaustion, he couldn’t afford to waste the life he had fought so hard to preserve.

Then, in the next moment, Lian conceded. “Damn it. I lost again.” His fierce determination already dissipated as he roughly scratched his head in defeat. Having pushed himself to the limit and fought his hardest, he felt no lingering regret. “You won. I have no complaints, even if you were to kill me.”

It wasn’t a boastful statement but the begrudging acknowledgment that Sirone found quite irksome. He wondered how one could be so childish. “Are you joking?” Sirone asked, incredulous.

“What?” Lian replied, confusion in his voice.

“What do you think would happen to me if I were to kill you? That’s ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous? We fought a battle staking our lives, and I’m clearly acknowledging my defeat.”

“You’re the only one who staked your life! I just fought to stay alive! This duel was absurd to begin with. Accusing me of ratting you out because you didn’t want to train and hid!” Sirone exclaimed.

Lian was taken aback. After such a fierce battle, shouldn’t there be some lingering emotion, if not warmth, between them? “Hey! I didn’t accuse you of anything! It’s just because you were being so petty! Even if we didn’t know each other, isn’t it normal to be chivalrous in those situations?” Lian argued.

“Chivalrous? Nonsense!”

“What did you just say?”

Sirone couldn’t hold back his anger any longer. He had been focused on resolving the immediate problem, but now that the ordeal was over, he couldn’t contain his frustration. “You call that chivalry? Have you ever considered the burden a butler would bear when demanded two different answers by both a noble’s son and his sword instructor? Did you ask such a favor from me, knowing all that?”

“Huh? Well...” Lian struggled to find a response.

“If you were truly a man of chivalry, you should have felt ashamed to burden a mere butler like me and faced your sword instructor yourself. That would have been a truly admirable and courageous act, wouldn’t it?”

Lian continued to fumble for words. Sirone scrutinized him closely, and his silence spoke volumes. He wasn’t one to make excuses or argue. He simply had nothing to say.

To Sirone, this sight was even more distasteful, and he exhaled roughly. “You really almost killed me there.”

Lian regarded Sirone with a curious gaze. The boy who had bravely faced his fear of death and charged at him was now nowhere to be found. Who is this kid? He’s clearly a genius but is nothing like Lye. Unlike his brother, who swung his sword with one hand and gave him a disdainful smirk, this boy threw his whole body into the fight against him.

“Hey, you... What’s your name?”

Sirone raised his head. Sitting down, he now realized how big Lian was. “I am Sirone Arian.”

“I’m Lian Ojent.”

It was comical to hear a noble and a commoner exchange names in such a manner, but what truly baffled Sirone was the fact Lian might have genuinely believed he didn’t know who he was—the youngest son of the noble house he worked at. Undeterred by his incredulous expression, Lian approached, his bulk seeming even more imposing. Then his palm, as big as a cauldron lid, extended towards him.

“Let’s become friends. What do you say?”

The First Step Toward a Dream

A year swiftly passed since Sirone had entered House Ojent. Now sixteen, he had sent over seven thousand books away from the grand library. Temuran, astounded by his incredible reading speed, could only shake his head in amazement. But Sirone had foreseen this outcome.

As the categorized books dwindled, efficiency naturally accelerated. Uniform motion was a theoretical concept, and in reality, every event in the world was subject to acceleration. Thus, even if the beginning was slow, if one persisted without giving up, they could achieve their goal much faster than anticipated.

Of the eight hundred history books he had set as his goal, only around two hundred remained. His average reading rate exceeded three books a day. In just a few more months, the backbone of the knowledge he had dreamt of would be complete. In addition, he had gained experience in swordsmanship and understood the essence of fear. Thanks to this, he could significantly boost the durability of his Spirit Zone.

The past year had been fruitful and enriching in every sense. However, no amount of academic achievement could compare to the value of making a good friend.

“There are so many books. I wonder if my family has read them all.”

After becoming friends through their intense sword fight, Lian, now a regular visitor to the library, spent his free time there. Upon getting to know him, he realized that, contrary to his imposing stature, he was a person filled with warmth and affection. Perhaps it was more fitting to say he was a typical youngest child.

“Of course. You and Master Bishop do visit often.”

“Hmm... Must be nice for smart people. Look at all these books for them to read.” Lian, who had been sitting on the floor, tossed the book he had been rummaging through aside.

As Sirone descended the ladder to pick up the book, he scolded him. “Don’t toss books around. I’ll get in trouble if they are ruined.”

“That’s one thing I don’t like either. How can a book be more important than a person’s life? I promise I’ll protect you even if I set the library on fire, so don’t worry.”

“As long as you stay still, that will never happen. So please, be careful.” Unlike Lian, never before had such cliché words left Sirone’s lips. But that was who Sirone was: firm and strict in all his ways, yet not cold.

Lian appreciated that about him. “It’s fun being with you, but I feel like I’m suffocating being cooped up in the library all the time.”

“Why are you always here? What about your training?”

“I’m just doing basic training. I told Master Kait I want to study in the library.”

Sirone’s body trembled. “Then why aren’t you studying right now?”

“I’m bored!” Lian shouted, sprawling on the floor, waving his arms and legs, throwing a bit of a tantrum.

Unbothered, Sirone turned and went back to his desk. He wasn’t particularly concerned about Lian’s laziness. If Sirone’s nature was water, then his was fire. Once ignited, it burned uncontrollably. He probably just needs motivation.