Whoosh! Whoosh!

The fierce sound of air being split filled the air as the heavy object sliced through it. With a solid iron ball weighing about 50kg fastened to the end of an iron bar, swinging it like a sword created a loud, lethal noise. If something as hefty as that struck a wild boar, it would surely die instantly.

But, impressive as this training may have seemed, it had a major drawback.

Crunch! Snap!

The strain on the wrists, elbows, shoulders, waist—essentially the entire body—was immense. The average weight of most swords ranged from 1kg to 1.5kg. Heavier swords could go beyond 5kg, but those were rare. Generally, no one used excessively heavy swords.

The reason was simple: using such a weapon was a surefire way to destroy your body. No matter how slowly you swung it, one wrong move could leave you crippled.

This training method, which Ehan had dubbed the Diamond Body Training, was one of the extreme regimens he practiced.

"Huuuu!"

The first time he tried this method, he had nearly ended up permanently injured. He was shocked by the weight, realizing how reckless it was to even attempt to swing it. But Ehan didn’t give up. He started with 5kg and gradually increased the weight, slowly adapting to the heaviness and intensity of the training.

Now, he had reached the point where he could handle a 60kg iron bar and ball combined—truly a triumph of human perseverance.

...Well.

Snap.

“Ah, it broke again.”

Sometimes, though, his wrist or elbow would give way, snapping under the pressure.

This brutal workout was also known by another name that Ehan had coined: Total Body Destruction.

After consuming a large amount of nutrients and resting, his body would begin to recover. His bones and muscles healed quickly, but when it came to tendons or joints, even his troll-like regenerative ability took more than two hours to repair the damage. The only person who had ever witnessed this madness was Jake, the only friend Ehan had in the knightly order.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? What kind of insane training is this?" Jake had once asked, genuinely horrified.

Was it really that extreme?

‘...Yeah, it probably is.’

Even Ehan sometimes thought that this method was too much. Trusting solely in his regeneration was risky, as one mistake could leave him permanently crippled. But the reason he persisted with this dangerous regimen was simple: it worked. His muscles, bones, and overall physical structure had visibly improved through this training.

Take, for example, that guy he fought yesterday, Yordran. His swordsmanship was fast and flashy, requiring precise deflection or parrying. But Ehan had none of those refined skills. He only blocked with brute force.

Yet, despite taking Yordran's attacks head-on, Ehan had suffered no damage. His hands didn’t even shake.

What could explain that?

‘It’s proof this training is paying off.’

His muscles and bones had become so resilient that they absorbed even the heaviest blows, distributing the impact without harm.

It was like his entire body had become a suit of armor. In fact, during a recent sparring session with Baltar, he had been able to withstand twice as many hits as before. He could now endure twenty strikes, where before, he could barely handle ten.

It was a groundbreaking achievement...

“Achievement, my foot… I’m still getting pummeled.”

Ehan stretched his now-recovered body, scowling. The thought of how overwhelming Baltar still was made his blood boil.

What was it Baltar had said?

["Hoho, you've become an even better punching bag. Such a diligent boy. Did you do all this just to give me a better feel for my strikes? Hohoho."]

If that wasn’t mockery, what was?

That old monster…!

“Maybe it’s time to increase the weight?”

Should he up the weight of the iron bar, or should he extend the training sessions? The question gnawed at him. He still couldn’t see a way to beat that old man, but if there was one thing Ehan could surpass him in, it might just give him an edge.

Endurance. If his already durable body became even tougher, if he could take hit after hit without his body giving out, then maybe—just maybe—he could land a critical blow.

“Iiiii!”

Thud!

“….”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I tripped.”

“…Are you alright, maid? Did you hurt your knees or, um, your face?”

“Hehe, I’m fine, knight. Luckily, I’m pretty sturdy. I once got hit by a mace and was completely fine! Hehe.”

“…Uh, is that so.”

...Where should he even start?

Should he be more concerned that she had been hit by a mace, or should he ask about her secret to surviving it? Ehan looked at the uninvited guest with a bewildered expression.

The previous day, Crown Princess Isis had made a request. Or rather, it was less of a request and more of a command.

However, Ehan had said:

“I refuse. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to avoid getting entangled with nobles like you? Why should I get involved with you now?”

"How heartless. There are countless people who would give their lives for one of my ‘requests.’"

"Then ask them. I’m not interested in giving up my life."

His attitude was not just cold; it was outright defiant.

"I’ve done enough being used once. You think I’m your hunting dog?"

This was a warning.

Even though his opponent was the heir to the kingdom, and despite the fact that skilled warriors were swarming outside, Ehan was not to be underestimated. He had been growing stronger for one reason: to never live the way he did in his past life.

"Crown Princess, if you see me as anything less than a brother and more as some tool to be used, then you’ve come to the wrong person. I may follow you now out of respect for your power and our connection, but if you cross the line, I will destroy everything. Power, connections—none of it will matter."

“…”

His words were genuine, a declaration that he was ready to fight for his life. Isis, sensing his resolve, furrowed her brow in irritation.

"You insolent brat. You dare speak to me like that?"

"Siblings should act like siblings."

"...Do you enjoy winning arguments with women?"

"I’m a staunch believer in gender equality. Equal rights, equal fights."

"...You uncouth fool."

Isis was the first to back down. From birth, she had possessed extraordinary talents, and for forty years, she had ruled with wisdom and strength. Very few had ever dared to speak to her like this.

...And yet.

"Yes, a man should have at least that much backbone."

"...?"

Somehow, she seemed pleased with him.

"A knight is supposed to walk the path of righteousness, standing against those in power when necessary. You’ve shown the spirit of my sworn brother well, hoho."

"...Was this some kind of test?"

"Of course."

"..."

"Don’t look at me like that. In my position, I must constantly test those around me, even if they are family or close allies."

"...You live a tough life."

"It’s the burden of a ruler."

Isis had been testing Ehan. If he had accepted her request without question, she would have been disappointed in him, seeing him as a sycophant. She would still have used him, but as nothing more than a disposable tool.

Like a hunting dog, discarded after being used.

‘What a ruthless woman.’

“Stop insulting me in your mind. I can feel my ears burning.”

“I said ruthless, as in beautifully determined. It’s a compliment.”

“I feel like you meant to say something else in the middle of that compliment.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“Brazen fool.”

Though he had insulted her to her face, Isis did not punish him. A ruler had to endure the criticisms and disdain of their people as lightly as breathing.

But even so…

Smack!

“A knight must not insult a lady, you fool.”

"Nice wrist snap."

She probably figured a light flick to the forehead was harmless. While her expression remained stern, it was the softest expression he had seen on her today.

"Let me repeat: this isn’t a command, but simply a request, one I hope you will accept."

“…Fine, I’ll listen.”

Since it wasn’t framed as a command, Ehan agreed to hear her out. After all, for someone like Isis to set aside her pride like this was no small feat. Refusing outright would be like telling an Italian that pineapple pizza was the best in the world—it just didn’t sit well.

And so, he decided to hear her out, as it would likely be mutually beneficial.

“You mentioned two requests, but in a way, they’re both similar.”

Thwack.

“…Why is tomorrow’s newspaper already here?”

"The power of authority."

"Authority figures, I swear."

Rustle.

Ehan opened the newspaper she had handed him. Without asking any questions, he started reading, which pleased Isis. After all, nothing was more annoying than people who couldn’t take a hint.

Ehan was neither clueless nor dull in this regard.

Before long, his eyes stopped on a page. It was an article that should have been plastered across the front page, yet it had been buried on the tenth page. The royal family’s influence had clearly kept it from gaining more attention.

As he pointed to the page, Ehan asked:

“…Is your request related to this girl or that pompous-looking boy?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because the only people you can’t easily touch are them.”

"Correct. Though, to clarify, I could easily kill them if I wanted. It would just be… inconvenient."

"Yes, yes, very impressive."

Thwack!

The fan struck his forehead again, but Ehan remained unfazed. After all, a simple fan could hardly hurt an aura user like him.

Instead, he continued reading aloud the names from the newspaper.

“Irene Windler and Roen Dimitri de Lionel.”

Irene Windler was a 19-year-old commoner-born mage who had recently enrolled in the Academy’s Magic Department as the top student, with Duke Galahad announcing his intent to adopt her. Roen, on the other hand, was the youngest son of the Lionel family, known as the rulers of the northern territories, though being a bastard, his chances of inheritance were slim. He had recently enrolled as the top student in the Academy’s Swordsmanship Department.

Pendragon had long been in a hostile relationship with both Duke Galahad and the Grand Duke of Lionel, yet their adopted daughter and bastard son had entered the Academy, right in the heart of Pendragon.

This was a huge story that could shake the capital.

The fact that it wasn’t front-page news was evidence that the royal family found these individuals troublesome.

And sure enough…

“I’d love nothing more than to kill them.”

“…If I remember correctly, both Galahad and Lionel are distantly related to the royal family, aren’t they?”

“They are my cousins.”

“And you want to kill your own cousins?”

“Would you do it if I asked?”

“…No.”

“Hmph, what a shame.”

…Ruthless woman.

Thwack!

He cursed again, and the fan struck his head once more.