Rumble!

The sky was thick with dark clouds, so dense it wouldn’t be surprising if a downpour began at any moment. But even if the clouds unleashed rain, the coliseum wouldn’t be affected.

“There’s no issue with continuing, it seems.”

“With the amount of money invested, a few raindrops won’t make a difference.”

As long as the sacred magic remained active, no foreign substances could penetrate its domain.

Thunder and lightning might cause trouble if they struck directly, but without that, all would remain secure.

Thus, under the ominous weather, the battles with the Stone Trolls continued. Though none of the other students displayed anything as impressive as the young lion of the North, the crowd was still captivated.

“Everyone’s doing well.”

“This year seems to have a lot of talent.”

Among the spectators were many retired knights who watched the first-years’ impressive efforts with satisfaction. While the students’ abilities were still developing, they showed clear potential, like golden eggs with promising futures.

“Hmm, is that a special technique different from the usual fighting styles?”

“It’s a one-off move, but the power is undeniable.”

The general consensus was that the ‘Bears’ showed respectable capabilities, proving their success in the war game wasn’t just luck. Some performed better than Barry Copps, while others didn’t, but all fought with commendable determination.

Their unbreakable resolve was impressive.

Then, the next group entered—those cadets who had received the title “Young Masters” from Ihan.

The response they garnered was—

Crash!

—an instinctive murmur of admiration.

They had clearly mastered advanced fighting techniques, impressive for their age. In fact, they were exceptionally skilled, enough to be immediately considered for knight orders of mid-sized territories and likely securing middle-rank positions.

“They’re outstanding. For their generation, they’ve truly learned the basics.”

“Indeed. Training isn’t just about learning fighting techniques. Diligently mastering each part step by step is crucial.”

Compared to the Bears, who were still a bit rough but displayed mercenary-level abilities, these young noble cadets showed a pure dedication not typically associated with nobles. They didn’t rely on shortcuts and practiced straightforward, hard-earned skills.

“Wonderful!”

The old knights who had lived through the previous king’s era were pleased, sure that these young ones would soon make a name for themselves. After all, with such dedication, they would inevitably become renowned—even if they didn’t want to.

While the elderly knights enjoyed watching the pure talent of these trainees, they assumed that surprises were over. However, the next group to appear left them in awe.

Crack!

Thud!

“What…who are they?”

“They’re far beyond the first-year level. They could join any knight order right now.”

“So, it wasn’t only Lord Roen who was exceptional? My, my…”

They witnessed three students overwhelming, even playing with, a Stone Troll. The retired knights were struck with both admiration and silence, as even in their prime, they’d have struggled against these three.

“Kunta, wasn’t it? Now I see why barbarian warriors once terrorized the continent.”

“Is that the grandson of Marquis Offen? A true bloodline of the Sword Duke family.”

“The Mercenary King’s young protégé—he’s raised a prodigy just like himself.”

These students had far surpassed the level of cadets and should be knights in their own right.

While the young might envy and feel downcast at the brilliance of these three, the elders nodded in admiration, pleased by the sight of youthful vitality. Having seen the standard of young knights in the capital decline for years, the old knights were heartened to see so many fine seeds in the next generation.

“Who taught these young ones?”

Even as they felt hopeful, they faced reality. It was rare to find instructors among the younger generation who were so dedicated to teaching the fundamentals and used a style “unlike that of the nobility.”

They could hardly believe a single instructor from the swordsmanship faculty could have cultivated such skills. This wasn’t due to narrow-mindedness, but a lingering doubt from the previous lazy teaching methods that had become common.

While the old knights were lost in thought—

“Hmm?”

“…A cute child has entered the stage?”

“Haha, could she really be planning to fight?”

They believed all the first-year participants had finished. While some noble ladies were enrolled, most opted out of this final event, relying on their grades in other areas instead.

But, surprisingly—

“Bold one.”

“Yes, she reminds me of the young Marquis Offen in his day.”

The young lady on the stage.

With her slender figure, Levy Fort unsheathed her sword and faced the stone creature with calm confidence.

 

Hoo!

Levy Fort’s heart pounded.

Her senior classmates had gained hunting experience by capturing wild boars and mutated bears during field marches, but young and inexperienced Levy had been excluded from those hunts.

Even during the previous day’s war game, she had merely issued commands, benefiting from others’ efforts and simply adding the finishing touches.

Yet now, the many eyes watching her with anticipation made her feel nervous and burdened.

But still—

‘I chose to stand here.’

She couldn’t run away, even if she was afraid.

Everyone had tried to dissuade her.

“You’ve already secured your grades with the other subjects,” they said, “There will be other chances.”

Despite the many voices of caution, Levy Fort had accepted her shortcomings and stepped onto this stage.

‘I must prove myself!’

Levy steadied herself, focusing solely on the cold grip of her rapier.

Clad in light leather armor, she moved her left hand behind her, extended her right foot forward, turned her body to the side, and fixed her gaze forward.

It was the standard fencing stance, a style taught to noble children as a matter of course, and she gripped the rapier firmly.

GRR?

The Stone Troll, sensing an opponent far weaker than anticipated, lowered its posture, confusing her with a small animal like a rabbit.

However, Levy thought—

“Thank you for underestimating me.”

With a sudden burst of movement, she drove her rapier through the air.

Utilizing momentary shifts in her center of gravity and strengthening her sword with energy.

And with precise aim—

Pooch!

GRR!?

She struck the Stone Troll directly in its small eye.

The creature reeled in pain, just as it was about to thrash wildly, but Levy withdrew her rapier swiftly and moved to its left side.

Her fluid movement was a testament to her dedication to basic footwork training, practiced until her feet had nearly blistered.

Hoo, hoo.

She took this moment to catch her breath.

Luckily, moving to the injured side of the creature made her harder to spot.

The Stone Troll’s only weakness was its limited vision and dulled senses.

Levy exploited the creature’s design flaws with precision.

However, she didn’t let her guard down.

Bang!

‘As expected, it’s regenerating.’

The creature’s eye restored itself rapidly, and it focused on Levy with anger. Yet, she maintained her composure, recalling Sir Arno’s advice.

‘Sir Arno said that we monks must remain calm and patient, seeking every opportunity for a strategic strike.’

He was right.

Keeping calm allowed her to see clearly.

The creature was artificial, more like a model than a wild beast.

But she still wasn’t sure if her meager strength and clumsy strikes would be enough to defeat it.

Her chest tightened with anxiety, but—

—Focus!

She was jolted back to clarity by her instructor’s voice echoing in her mind.

—The best defense is offense, and the best offense is to stay a step ahead, with your sword always at the ready. That fencing style you nobles learn as etiquette? It’s derived from a war technique. As long as a swordsman has skill, it can be a powerful weapon.

‘Yes. I understand.’

Though it was just a memory, Levy followed her instructor’s words sincerely.

Fencing, the origin of the fighting style she practiced, had roots in the martial art escrime, a technique that embodied both offense and defense.

—The basics of any sword technique are to thrust, cut, parry, and strike. So remember one thing: aim to leave your opponent in ruins.

‘Yes, Master.’

With a fierce determination, Levy adhered to her instructor’s teachings.

The young student repeatedly used the same tactics to strike her opponent.

Sometimes, she stabbed the eyes, and other times, she attacked the jaw, neck, or ankles whenever there was an opening, retreating and defending herself as needed.

The key was to conserve her strength, only using energy to amplify her attacks but never expending it during evasive movements or other actions.

‘I must preserve my stamina!’

Levy carefully monitored her energy levels and the creature’s movements, attacking whenever an opportunity arose.

After all, it was a creature of instinct, an artificial construct.

Toying with it wasn’t difficult.

All she needed was the courage to face it and the determination to keep going.

And for Levy, she had—

‘I can do this!’

She had courage, determination, and grit—qualities her master had drilled into her through repetitive training, instilling them deeply.

Even if it meant collapsing or becoming utterly exhausted, Levy Fort continued to press on, and finally—

Thud…

“Haa, haa…”

39 minutes and 59 seconds.

That was the time it took her, alone, to bring down the creature.

 

“………”

Silence fell over the coliseum.

The shock gradually settled over the crowd as no one had expected Levy’s victory.

It wasn’t just her peers—everyone watching the arena was caught off guard.

Although her victory was ultimately due to the creature’s internal energy being depleted, no one voiced a shallow judgment.

To belittle a warrior who had poured every ounce of herself into battle and ended up in such a state of exhaustion—only an utter fool would do that.

“That girl, she’s incredible, don’t you think, sir?”

“Yes, truly courageous. She definitely has talent.”

“Bear Girl, though her body is weak, her mind is sharp. And she has the heart of a warrior—that’s why she won.”

“The heart of a warrior?”

“In my tribe, even those lacking talent are always respected if they possess the heart of a warrior. Those with such a heart often become great warriors.”

Physical strength, talent, and abilities.

These traits could speed up one’s learning, but true warriors were few and far between.

Only a small number could wield their swords effectively in real combat.

In that sense, Levy Fort was remarkable.

A warrior’s heart and unyielding resolve marked her as someone special.

Kunta’s praise was the highest form of compliment a Barbarian could give.

“Bear Girl will grow strong. Perhaps even stronger than Kunta.”

“…You’re telling me not to get complacent just because I’m currently stronger than her. I understand.”

The bravery Levy displayed was even more valuable than the sword aura Roen had shown earlier.

Everyone looked at her with serious expressions, and applause slowly built around her.

Though she had taken longer than anyone, it had been honorable and grand.

Indeed, it had been a duel worthy of a valiant knight.

She had earned the right to that applause.

“Aah…”

Still catching her breath, Levy’s head rose instinctively in response to the ecstatic cheers.

‘What…just happened?’

It didn’t feel real yet.

She’d been swinging her rapier, stabbing and retreating repeatedly like a scared child.

But at some point, the creature had ceased moving, and she had collapsed in turn.

It still didn’t feel real.

Had she truly defeated that monster? She could hardly grasp the reality of standing up to something ten times her size.

Her mind was a blank slate.

But the sound of applause—their enthusiastic cheers—forced her to confront reality.

“I…I won….”

She had won.

A victory achieved all on her own, her very first in life.

…Tears welled up.

How could she describe this overwhelming sensation?

Achievement, exhilaration—neither of these words could fully capture her emotions at that moment.

Then, she realized something.

Here and now, she had finally broken free from the shell encasing her.

She had become a true swordsman.

“Wooaaaah!”

Unable to contain her joy, Levy stretched her arms high toward the sky, shouting her elation.

—Waaaaa!

The audience looked on, assuming her stance was a triumphant performance and watched her warmly.

A fine display of showmanship.

Of course, it was a misunderstanding, and Levy would later cringe every time she remembered this moment, kicking off her covers in embarrassment before sleeping. But now, she didn’t care about anything else.

She only wished to roar with joy.

As she looked up to the sky, savoring her victory—

“What?”

—her face quickly turned pale.

Whoosh!

…What was that?

Staring blankly upward, Levy Fort froze, but only for a moment.

Shiver!

A chill shot through her, filling her with dread.

Rumble…

Dark clouds.

Those ominous clouds, gazing down on the earth, had started to rotate, forming a vortex.

The center began to widen.

“What…is that?”

“…….”

The unsettling movement of the clouds caught Levy’s attention first, and soon others began to notice. As they looked skyward, they all saw it and felt the same chill.

At the core of those clouds, a deep terror akin to midnight.

And within that dark space—

Swoosh!

—appeared the Hand of the Giant.

“!!!!?”

…No one could scream.

The arm that appeared so suddenly.

It was too massive, too horrifying.

It was overwhelming, and it stole away even the will to flee.

Sometimes, the appearance of something so undefeatable paralyzes even the instinct to run.

“R-run…”

Levy Fort struggled to shout for everyone to flee, but her voice wouldn’t come out.

Already drained of strength, she faced a monster of such magnitude descending from the sky.

Slowly but surely, the ominous aura radiating from the creature’s arm pinned her in place.

Fear.

The natural intimidation radiated by giant beasts and monsters.

It instilled terror, paralyzing those exposed.

For a frail human, resistance was unimaginable.

Death approached.

It was the only thought people could muster, and they didn’t even see their lives flash before their eyes.

As the arm drew nearer, the shadow it cast grew darker and heavier.

Drip.

“Aah…”

Levy shed tears.

In the face of inevitable death, only tears remained, and she lowered her head.

On the day of what she thought was her life’s greatest triumph.

That victorious day had turned to despair in an instant, and she felt hollow, overcome with sorrow.

But then, unexpectedly—

Screech.

“Why…am I holding my sword?”

In her last moments, Levy realized she still held her sword and wondered why.

Why was she holding her sword?

…She was curious.

“─That’s called struggling, Bear Girl. And when a person fights to live, there’s no need for a reason.”

“!!”

An answer came, and Levy’s eyes widened as she looked in the direction of the voice.

Standing there—

“Even so, holding onto your sword until the end deserves praise. I’ll give you full marks, Cadet Levy Fort.”

“Aah!!”

The most trustworthy mentor on the continent, and Levy, overcome with relief, wept again.

These were tears of relief, unlike her previous despairing tears.

“A grown lady crying?”

He gently scolded her for crying, but his smile was warm, proud of her perseverance.

But only for a moment.

As he looked up at the sky—

“You made my Bear Girl cry?”

Ihan snarled, then forcefully kicked a 600-kilogram wooden spear into the sky, suspended by telekinetic control.

Thud!

With all his strength behind it.

—Sun-Piercing Spear.

It couldn’t pierce the sun, but it could certainly skewer a fortress wall, as the ballista-like weapon soared upward.