Knowing one's skill and level objectively was a rather important matter.

No matter how hard someone tries to remain objective, human psychology tends to perceive situations subjectively, often leading to being overly positive about oneself.

However, Ihan was always strict with himself. He had no choice.

He had no teacher, and he had to stand alone.

While he did possess a special ability, it was nothing more than a convenient tool.

Therefore, Ihan constantly strove to view his abilities objectively, even while putting in the effort.

‘How should I gauge my skills?’

If this were a wuxia world, perhaps the knights here would be on the level of first-rate martial artists or maybe even supreme ones.

They’ve learned aura techniques, likely comparable to the promising disciples of righteous sects.

On the other hand, Ihan had grown stronger through methods more akin to the unorthodox ways of external martial arts, rather than aura techniques.

Whether it be sorcery or the trolls' regenerative abilities, they were all more or less the same.

However, with the repetition of such strengthening methods, Ihan had clearly reached the peak.

And, if he were to predict, if he were to surpass the peak and enter the divine realm (入神)...

BOOM!

...He would be like that person.

Ihan’s body was ruthlessly thrown across the dirt ground.

Whoosh!

However, before he could even properly roll, he bounced up like a spring and rushed toward his opponent.

His movements were so nimble and fast that it evoked the image of a four-legged predator, rather than a human.

CRASH!

Every time his foot struck the ground, the concrete floor shattered. Ihan tackled forward with all his weight, strength, and speed combined, delivering an impact comparable to a collision with a dump truck. Unfortunately, his opponent wasn’t someone who could be moved by just a dump truck.

Whoosh!

“You’re still so rough. You should learn to be a bit more relaxed.”

His opponent, Baltar, dodged Ihan's fierce tackle with movements as light as a butterfly playing with the wind. Then, with a natural motion, he placed his palm on Ihan’s back and delivered a strike.

BOOM!

“Grrraah!”

The ground shook.

Baltar's strike seemed to pierce through Ihan’s tough body as if skewering it with a sharp stick, attempting to bring him down.

If an ordinary person had taken that blow, they would have exploded from the inside out in a chain reaction, creating a gruesome spectacle.

“…You damn old man!”

“Haha, you’ve gotten tougher.”

However, Ihan neither exploded nor fainted.

Instead, he grabbed Baltar’s wrist.

Crunch!

The strength that could easily crush metal came into play as Ihan squeezed Baltar’s wrist. His raw power was enough to snap a human wrist like a thin twig.

“Just having brute strength won’t get you far.”

Despite Ihan’s overpowering strength, Baltar showed no signs of pain.

After all, why are aura users considered superhumans?

Because, despite their seemingly weak flesh, they possess a vessel containing unimaginable strength. No matter how strong Ihan’s grip was, it wouldn’t break so easily.

And as expected…

“Hup!”

“Ugh!”

Ihan was flung away.

A powerful pressure erupted from Baltar’s body like an explosion, becoming a hurricane that blew Ihan away.

However…

BOOM!

Ihan did not fall. Instead, he gathered strength in his legs and thighs, making them bulge as if they were about to burst, maintaining his stance.

Then, with a fierce burst…

BOOM!

He launched himself like an arrow.

A storm raged around him, and the shockwave of his power reduced nearby stones to sand.

Baltar, who had been sneering throughout the fight, suddenly lost the smile on his lips.

Instead...

“Not bad.”

With a swift motion, Baltar drew his sword for the first time.

Though the blade was still sheathed, just the act of him drawing his sword changed the atmosphere entirely.

SHING!

Baltar swung his sword before Ihan could even reach him.

It looked like he was cutting through empty air, a seemingly ridiculous and meaningless gesture, but the outcome was far from laughable.

BOOM!

“…?!”

It was as if Ihan had hit a barrier. His path was blocked, and he flipped backward, unable to continue his charge. The barrier was like a solid wall of air—strong, yet soft enough not to injure him as it bounced him back.

“…Old man, you can make shields out of wind too?”

“It’s a small trick. But against a beast as fierce as the Tyrant of the Mountains, it’s a fairly useful one.”

“…I’m going to lose my mind.”

Ihan sat on the ground, breathing heavily in a rather humiliating position, but he didn’t seem overly fatigued.

He hadn’t taken as many hits as usual, but his stamina was extraordinary, so this much didn’t tire him at all.

Of course, there were still some repercussions from fighting an aura user.

Crack!

“…Looks like my ribs are broken.”

“Haha, only?”

“Only? It hurts like hell.”

It would probably take about an hour to heal.

“You’ve done well, forcing me to use this technique.”

“How do you even do that?”

“If you can read the flow of the wind, anyone can do it. Spellcasters often use it.”

“…I didn’t know magic could be cast without spells.”

“There’s no end to the martial world. With enough effort, even a spellcaster's techniques can become easy to replicate.”

“What nonsense.”

Spellcasters would probably say the same thing.

Such a statement was just that absurd.

A wall of wind—how on earth was he supposed to break through that?

‘It’s like peeling an onion—there’s always something more underneath.’

As expected of a 70-year-old martial monster. He had endless hidden techniques.

“You, on the other hand—what was that move just now? You shot toward me like an arrow.”

“I named it ‘Piercing Shot.’”

“…Your techniques all have strange names, like that ‘Diamond’ thing you mentioned before.”

“Mind your own business.”

 

Ihan grumbled but mentally reviewed the earlier spar.

‘That move Baltar used, was it something like an internal body technique? As for the sword wind, I could probably think of it that way too.’

From countless martial arts novels he had read in his previous life, Ihan analyzed Baltar’s techniques in his own way.

‘…I might be able to imitate that internal body technique, at least?’

Could it be done like this?

Thud.

“…Tsk, that’s not it?”

He placed his palm on the ground and tried to push off, but all it did was apply a bit of force. This was closer to channeling energy than the true internal body technique.

While Ihan was feeling disappointed—

“You still have a good sense for it. Trying to imitate that without knowing the basics of aura technique? That’s quite something.”

Baltar's surprise was understandable.

What was aura technique, after all?

It was a technique that allowed a trained warrior to feel the flow of life energy within their body, expel it, or momentarily strengthen their body—a kind of hardening technique.

However, it wasn’t something anyone could learn easily, which is why it was called aura technique. The ability to sense the flow of life energy and control it was purely a matter of talent.

Moreover, the best time to sense the flow was during childhood, when life energy was weak but most sensitive. Trying to learn it later in life was generally pointless. By adulthood, the body’s life energy flow had already solidified, making it nearly impossible to sense or control.

But this guy was different.

Despite being thirty years old, Ihan’s life energy was still pulsing like a child’s in its growth phase. And whether it was due to natural growth or his unique abilities, he was handling the flow instinctively.

For example, the way he had just swelled the muscles in his legs to shoot himself forward like an arrow, or the way his internal organs had endured Baltar’s attacks—both relied on that principle.

‘Still, his control is chaotic. It’s probably because he’s handling it instinctively.’

Ihan’s lack of formal aura technique training resulted in a peculiar state where the life energy inside him surged and roiled like a constant wave, reinforcing his body chaotically.

If anyone other than Baltar had understood Ihan’s condition, they would have been shocked.

The guy should have died long ago from not being able to handle that flow, yet here he was, alive and well—largely due to his reckless strengthening of his vessel.

A crazed spellcaster would have likely used him as a test subject or desperately tried to dissect him.

‘…Interesting.’

Baltar’s sole emotion was curiosity.

What if Ihan’s life energy continued to strengthen? What if his vessel could continue to bear it?

If he were to awaken his aura… if he were to become a superhuman, what would happen?

Perhaps...

‘He might reach the level of the legendary Lion King or Knight King.’

It was still just a speculation.

But imagining the future of such a promising young man...

‘I’ve discovered quite the interesting one in my old age, haha.’

For someone approaching retirement, Ihan was a source of amusement.

Baltar hid his aching wrist and let out a hearty laugh.

Gulp.

The sound of dry swallowing echoed faintly.

The clash between the two knights had left an intense impression.

Especially on the new recruits who were witnessing their duel for the first time.

They knew Ihan was strong.

Hadn’t he effortlessly subdued Yord, the top graduate?

But they hadn’t expected this.

What was that?

‘A mini Mountain Tyrant?’

The Mountain Tyrant, or the Ogre Tyrant, was a monstrous creature.

Though they had never seen one in person, they imagined that if a human version of a Mountain Tyrant existed, it would look like Ihan.

Some even began to wonder if he wasn’t part monster.

‘Why is someone like him still a mere knight?’

Regardless of his background, someone with such skills should hold a higher rank.

Yord didn’t deny he had some bias, but even he couldn’t understand why Ihan was still a regular knight...

“It’s because of his demerits. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s true that some higher-ups don’t like him because of his low status, but that’s not the only reason he’s still a regular knight. It’s because of his misconduct.”

“Misconduct?”

“He’s always late, and he rarely goes out on missions. He’s racked up quite a few demerits because of that.”

“……”

“If we were talking about skill alone, he could have easily become a deputy knight commander by now. But with behavior like that, who knows when he’ll rise in rank?”

“…He’s quite an eccentric, isn’t he? Senior Lihan.”

“I told you, it’s Ihan… Why am I even bothering to correct you?”

Yord didn’t catch Jake’s mutterings, his attention entirely focused on Ihan.

While Ihan might have felt he was utterly defeated, Yord saw it differently.

To him, Ihan wasn’t just any knight—he was a massive wall, a goal to aspire toward.

‘To think someone like him is nearby, this is a great fortune!’

Such a powerful individual was within reach. And Ihan was always seeking sparring partners!

To Yord, this was an opportunity.

Training with someone as strong as Ihan would undoubtedly help him grow as well.

‘I'm looking forward to this.’

Yord’s heart swelled with pride at the thought of his time in the knight order...

“Knight Ihan Turtle, hear this. Due to your misconduct, including improper behavior, damage to the knight order's facilities, failure to carry out your duties for four months, and other offenses that cannot be overlooked, it is deemed that you tarnish the honor of the White Silver Lion. As such, you are to be dismissed. However! Considering the merits you’ve accumulated, we will reduce your punishment. You will teach the future cadets of Pendragon for three years. This is an honorable and wise decision, and you should consider it a privilege, Ihan Turtle.”

…What?

Unfortunately for Yord, his hopes were dashed.

Ihan had been demoted.