The man appeared ordinary at first glance.
Correction.
He was far from ordinary, with a strikingly beautiful appearance.
It was as if a famous sculptor had chiseled him to perfection.
His demeanor was cold and indifferent, and if he remained still, others might mistake him for a statue.

So, in that sense, he was ordinary.
Though his looks could inspire admiration from both men and women, his expressionless face revealed nothing.
There was only a calmness, like the stillness of a candle’s flame, and the faint warmth that every living person carries.

In other words, his presence was faint.
If his last name wasn’t Lionel, no one would have found him difficult to approach.

But…

Shing.

The moment he drew his sword, his presence was anything but faint.
It wasn’t like a candle anymore.
It was cold.
The air around him grew tense, as though a blizzard was about to strike, with a sharp, chilling aura engulfing the surroundings.

Just by holding a sword, he had transformed into a completely different person.

To say this was a change would be an understatement—it was a complete reversal.

Roen Dimitri de Lionel.

He was unlike any opponent Ihan had faced so far.
And everyone felt it.
As did Ihan, standing before him.

‘This guy isn’t even trying to hide that he’s a regressor.’

Ihan couldn’t help but smirk.
It was so obvious.

Shing.

Unlike his previous opponents who wielded unusual weapons, Roen carried a simple longsword.
Nothing special about it.
It was forged from high-purity steel, but still an ordinary iron sword.

However, when Roen held that iron sword, it seemed to transform into a masterpiece.
The fierce presence that Ihan had often emphasized now infused that ordinary sword, turning it into something far more dangerous.

An ominous aura.
What was the term for such an aura…?

‘Demon fire?’

It looked like a ghostly fire was rising around him.
It was an apt description, and to the others, it seemed like that.
This was no ordinary aura—it was the kind of presence a seasoned warrior who had fought in wars for at least ten years would possess.
Certainly not something a twenty-year-old rookie should emit.

He was not someone to be judged by appearances.
It would be fair to say he was a fully-fledged swordsman.
For the untrained eye, Roen might seem like a genius, but…

For someone with sharp instincts like Ihan, or a soldier who had survived countless battles, they would recognize it immediately.
Roen wasn’t a prodigy.
He was a swordsman perfected over time.

…A swordsman steeped in bloodlust.

Whoosh, whoosh!

But Ihan lightly swung his wooden sword.
When Roen’s overwhelming presence began to envelop him, Ihan instinctively responded by swinging.
Each swing of the wooden sword cut through the air with a sharp sound, growing faster and faster with every stroke.
Soon, the wooden sword moved so quickly that it became invisible!

Whoosh!

“-Let’s get started.”
“…”
“Come at me.”
“…If I move now, I’ll be cut.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”

Before Roen’s presence could even fully manifest, it had been torn apart.

Roen, along with the cadets, saw the marks left in the dirt by Ihan’s wooden sword.
The wooden sword hadn’t even touched the ground, yet the force of the swings had gouged the earth.
The cadets swallowed nervously.
At that moment, they realized…

That this man was far stronger than they had imagined.

And this realization…

“I’m coming.”

…brought a smile to Roen’s face.

A wild, crazed smile.

 

Roen was the first to move.

Whoosh!

The sword came straight for Ihan’s eyes.
A thrust with no hesitation, a dangerously sharp strike.
But Ihan…

“Are you trying to blind me?”
“It wasn’t a serious attack, was it?”

Clang!

Without even blinking, Ihan dodged smoothly and brought his wooden sword down in a strike.
Roen quickly blocked, but he couldn’t fully absorb the impact.
His arm tingled with pain, and he took a step back.

“…You infused your attack with inner energy.”
“It’s a technique I’ve been practicing. Pretty useful, right?”
“Extremely dangerous.”
“It’s not refined enough for actual combat, but it works well enough on rookies.”

The strike had included a touch of the weighted internal energy technique, but it hadn’t worked on Roen.
He had quickly reinforced the flow of energy within his body to repel the force that Ihan had tried to send through him.
However…

“Your strength is truly impressive.”
“That’s one of my strengths.”

The overwhelming power of the blow couldn’t be nullified completely.

Bang!

Ihan stepped forward, pressing his advantage while Roen’s body was momentarily stiff.
The ground cracked under Ihan’s powerful footstep, and the pressure intensified.

Thud!

Ihan’s wooden sword came down squarely on Roen’s blade, and Roen tried to parry and counterattack at the same time…!

Clang!

“…”

But the wooden sword didn’t break.
In fact, the wooden sword withstood the sharp steel, as if it were made of metal itself.

Roen couldn’t believe it and swung his sword again.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!

Three slashes in quick succession.
But once again…

Clang, clang!

They were blocked.
Easily.
And Roen could feel the pain in his palms.
What was this?

‘It feels like I’m hitting a boulder.’

It was like slicing at a rock.
No, it wasn’t just a feeling—it genuinely felt like his sword was striking stone.
What kind of sorcery was this?

As if reading his confusion, Ihan decided to play the role of instructor and explain.

“I don’t know much about aura manipulation. No one ever taught me, and since it’s considered a secret technique, it’s not like anyone’s eager to share it. But I do know how the ‘strength’ inside my body works.”

“…What are you saying?”

“Strength isn’t just about lifting something heavy. It’s the totality of bones, tendons, and muscles working together. And the proper way to use that strength is what I call ‘force.’ It means to fortify something.”

“…”

“Another name for it is Vajra. It’s the method of transmitting your body’s internal power not just to yourself but to the tools you use. And when you can do that—”

Bang!

“This is what happens.”

Once again, his wooden sword collided with Roen’s steel blade, and the wooden sword didn’t break.
Instead, it sent Roen flying back.

Had Roen not mitigated the impact, he would have been rolling on the ground in disgrace.
But Roen wasn’t as concerned with the fact that his body had briefly lifted off the ground as he was with the technique Ihan had displayed.

Without formal instruction or systematic training, Ihan had developed his own method of using aura purely through instinct and practice.

“…I’ve never thought of myself as unintelligent, but everything you show me is beyond my comprehension.”
“Haha, it’s just because I’m bad at explaining. Most of the techniques I’ve learned were developed through experience and intuition rather than theory.”
“…Most people would call that genius.”
“That’s a nice compliment.”

But Ihan dismissed the praise.
It wasn’t about talent—it was about imagination.
All the knowledge he had absorbed in his past life had given him creativity, and all he was doing now was manifesting that creativity in reality.

Still…

‘It’s nice to hear.’

 

The cadets watched the duel between Ihan and Roen with bated breath.

So far, they had exchanged thirty blows.

Neither had landed a hit on the other, but their swords clashed over and over again in a relentless contest of skill.

Some of the cadets felt jealousy and envy.
They couldn’t stand how strong Roen was, especially since he was their peer.
Facing a wall of unfair talent, they were overcome with frustration.

But some of the cadets…

“The instructor’s wooden sword is reaching its limit.”
“So is Lord Roen’s.”
“…Unbelievable, trying to break steel with a wooden sword.”

Others were busy measuring their own abilities, calculating how they might overcome such a daunting challenge.

“…Wow, so this is why people love watching fights.”
[Is that all you have to say, Irene?]
“Hmm, it’s flashy?”
[…Irene, don’t tell people you’re a magician. I’m too embarrassed.]
“What’s with you?”

…Then there were those who were simply watching with wide-eyed innocence.

But no fight lasts forever.
The swords of both fighters were approaching their limits.

That’s why Ihan decided it was time for the final exchange.

“Why don’t we get serious for the last round?”
“…What do you mean?”
“Show me your true power. Of course, what you’ve shown so far is impressive, but I know you’ve got more. I’d like to see the real deal.”

“…”

Show me what you’ve been hiding.
Ihan’s words caused Roen to flinch for the first time.

“At first, I didn’t notice. But the more we fought, the more I could feel it.”

Roen was undeniably strong.
He was the most seasoned and skilled opponent Ihan had faced among the cadets.
Their battle of wits and aura manipulation was top-notch.

A truly satisfying opponent.

…But something felt off.

Was it his soldier’s intuition, honed on the battlefield?
Or perhaps a gut feeling, built from years of experience?

Roen clearly had more to give.
What he had shown so far was just the surface.
Something told Ihan there was more hidden beneath.

So he demanded it.
And Roen hesitated, confirming Ihan’s suspicion.

Ihan was pleased.
Not only because he was right but also because he wanted this duel to end with a clear resolution.
After all, wouldn’t it be more thrilling to wrap things up with a decisive blow rather than dragging it out in a precarious stalemate?

A grand finale.
Ihan wanted this fight to conclude in a way that satisfied them both.
Surely his number one surveillance target felt the same, right?

“I surrender.”

“…Huh?”
“I think this is enough. If we keep going, things will get too heated.”
“…”

…Well, it seems his expectations were misplaced.
Maybe he had been reading too much into things.

Roen smiled brightly and gestured to the crowd.

“The purpose of this duel was to prove to those who doubted you, Instructor, that you deserve their respect. And now that goal has been achieved, wouldn’t continuing this fight be pointless? I believe it’s time to stop.”

“…This guy.”

What a cunning move.
Despite his elegant appearance, he wasn’t afraid to be sly.
Ihan’s expression was one of disbelief, but unfortunately…

“Aren’t you excited about the chance to meet Baltar?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m more eager to learn from you, Instructor, than to meet Sir Baltar.”
“…You don’t seem like the studious type.”
“Shouldn’t you be careful about judging people by appearances?”
“…I have no comeback for that.”

There was no arguing with him.
The big event Ihan had been so looking forward to had ended anticlimactically, and all he could do was lower his wooden sword.

He wasn’t the type to force someone to fight if they didn’t want to.

Still…

‘Damn it, I’m sure he’s hiding something.’

Knowing that his suspected regressor still had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, the fight’s conclusion left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“…Hmm.”

Ihan felt dejected.

 

‘…That was close.’

Roen was surprised by himself.
He hadn’t expected this old desire to resurface.

‘The competitiveness of youth… It’s terrifying.’

He had thought such feelings were nothing but ashes in the wind.
Yet here he was, still harboring those emotions.

‘Perhaps it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve had such a pure fight.’

A pure contest.
Or rather, the clean competitive spirit his opponent exuded.
Facing that, memories of his younger days came flooding back.

Not the youth of his current body.
The youth that only Roen could remember.

…And.

‘This time, I must stop it.’

He had a tragedy to prevent. A disaster to avert…

‘This time, I will kill her.’

Roen recalled the prey he needed to hunt.

‘Isis Iraine de Pendragon. I will drive a sword through your throat.’

That would be the day his vengeance would be fulfilled.

Roen renewed his resolve.

Youth was a luxury he couldn’t afford—not until his mission was complete.

He suppressed his true nature once again.

All for the sake of the day his revenge would finally come.