Theo let out a silent laugh.

‘This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.’

He had spread the rumors and gathered people to dismantle the self-importance of those plagued by inferiority, all to change the narrative surrounding himself.

But it seemed he hadn’t considered one factor.

- These were still swordsmen of Ragnar, who took pride in their family’s honor.

He’d assumed they would come at him in a frenzy, mobbing him all at once.

Instead, they held a deep aversion to ganging up on someone.

Perhaps they saw it as a disgraceful act unbefitting the honor of a Ragnar swordsman.

And when Theo showed his true skill, they recognized their error and even bowed their heads in apology.

It wasn’t just Sybil, either. Most of the onlookers avoided making direct eye contact with him, casting furtive glances with flushed faces instead.

‘Well, this isn’t too bad either.’

When someone offers a sincere apology, a proper swordsman must respond appropriately.

*Swish!*

Theo loosened his stance and performed a sword salute in return.

“I am Theo Ragnar, an apprentice swordsman from the Rose Palace with no mentor yet, as I am preparing for the Blooming Ceremony.”

Sybil’s head shot up.

Theo was performing the formal exchange of names that swordsmen did before an official duel.

It meant he no longer saw Sybil as someone to chastise but as an equal opponent.

Sybil’s nose stung with emotion, but he held back and replied in a strong voice.

“Sybil Dray, a Guard Swordsman from the Southern Watch. I’ve been trained in the sword techniques of the Kurai family and am adept with the swift blade. I hope we share an honorable duel.”

Theo nodded, lowering his zweihander.

*Clang!*

Their swords met lightly in mid-air before they took their stances, putting some distance between them.

*Whoosh!*

Focusing, Theo’s aura began to swirl, growing intense.

*Gulp.*

Sybil swallowed nervously, tightening his grip on his sword.

It had been a while since he’d stood in a formal duel, but Theo’s presence felt even greater than it had moments ago.

*Thump, thump!*

His heart pounded.

Was it from nervousness?

Or perhaps…

‘Am I being moved by Theo’s fighting spirit…?’

His thoughts were interrupted as Theo began to move.

*Boom!*

*Whoosh!*

‘He’s fast!’

He moved so smoothly with the zweihander that it was hard to believe he was carrying such a massive weapon.

But this time, Sybil was prepared. He raised his sword calmly to block the incoming strike.

*Clang!*

“Ugh!”

The force of the impact felt like a hammer slamming into his chest. Sybil staggered back, but he braced himself and struck back.

*Clang, clang, clang, clang!*

[You have earned the recognition of ‘Sybil Dray.’]

[Luck has increased by 1.]

[You have gained experience.]

‘He truly is skilled with the swift blade.’

To counter Sybil’s rapid strikes, Theo forced his Dragon’s Heart to pump harder, compensating for the zweihander’s weight with raw strength as he deflected each strike.

He parried the strike aimed at his ankle with the flat of his blade, narrowly dodged the attack targeting his neck, and instantly closed the gap again.

The *Pilgrim’s Progress* technique flowed seamlessly into *Paradise Lost,* a chain of connected moves.

*Boom, boom, boom!*

Sybil became a valuable sparring partner, allowing Theo to test various techniques.

And then…

*Clang!*

With a final swing of his zweihander, Theo sent Sybil’s sword flying.

The sword clattered to the ground, and Sybil held his bleeding hand with his other, yet he wore a bright expression unbefitting someone who had lost.

“I yield.”

“It was an excellent fight.”

Sybil turned away, a broad smile on his face.

Theo scanned the area.

“Next?”

* * *

*Gulp.*

All around, people swallowed nervously.

‘The rumors…’

‘They were true.’

‘If I were in Sybil’s place, could I have held my own against him?’

Right now, the onlookers shared a single thought.

- We want to join in!

Everything they had witnessed between Theo and Sybil remained vivid in their minds, lingering like a powerful memory.

The respectful gestures before the duel,

The mutual admiration,

The desire to win,

The intensity they poured into their fight,

The acceptance of the outcome,

And…

- The heat.

They felt a powerful urge to be swept up in that heat.

*Thump, thump, thump, thump!*

Their hearts pounded wildly, lips parched from excitement.

It was something that couldn’t be understood with reason.

It was raw emotion that could only be shared through the clash of swords, heart to heart.

“Would it be all right if I stepped forward?”

A man stepped up, swallowing nervously.

When Theo nodded, he beamed and offered a sword salute.

“I am Eod Naran, third son of House Naran. I’ve trained in a technique known as *Twice Ascended.*”

“From the Rose Palace, I am Theo Ragnar. I look forward to an honorable duel.”

*Clang!*

With a light clash of swords, Theo and Eod began their duel.

*Whoosh!*

[You have earned the recognition of ‘Eod Naran.’]

[Luck has increased by 1.]

[You have gained experience.]

And so began the second duel.

[You have earned the recognition of ‘Benyat Remiro.’]

[Luck has increased by 1.]

The third duel.

[You have earned the recognition of ‘Eric Moran.’]

[Luck has increased by 1.]

…

The fourth, fifth…

Until the ninth duel ended.

The heated atmosphere in the training hall only grew more intense with each match, and the swordsmen’s faces flushed with exhilaration.

“Haa… Haa…”

Theo was drenched in sweat, panting heavily.

Compared to the battle with Randon, fighting these skilled swordsmen in consecutive duels required much more stamina.

He looked like he might collapse at any moment, yet his eyes sparkled through his tousled hair, with an intensity that belied his fifteen years.

He looked like a dragon.

No matter how much people called him a fool or an outcast, Theo was still a descendant of the Ragnar line, a lineage of dragons.

As they witnessed a dragon awakening before them, the onlookers felt profound gratitude.

“Next.”

Theo’s piercing gaze scanned the onlookers.

“Who’s next?”

Some of the swordsmen hesitated.

They wanted to step forward, but Theo seemed exhausted, and they weren’t sure if they should proceed.

“You seem quite tired. Perhaps it would be best to leave this for another time. I doubt anyone here still questions your skill.”

“If I need rest, I’ll take it myself. Not yet.”

“Well then… In that case, I’d like to step up.”

A young man who had been watching Theo and the others from behind finally stepped forward, arms crossed.

He had short, silver hair slicked back with pomade.

His tall stature and calm, refined gaze spoke of noble breeding.

Theo’s eyes lit up.

‘Finally, he steps forward.’

In truth, Theo had kept dueling for this person.

[Observing ‘Wellington Narciso.’]

---

**Wellington Narciso (15 years old / Male)**

- Title: Heir to the Narciso Family
- Talents: Swordsmanship Prodigy, Keen Senses, Hardworking Fanatic
- Status: Intrigued by the appearance of an unexpected rival.

---

Among the vassal families supporting Ragnar, six were known for their exceptional influence, called the “Six Houses of Snow.”

The Narciso family was one of the most distinguished.

Wellington was the Narciso family’s only heir, a young prodigy destined to elevate his house to rival Ragnar itself.

Ragnar had once viewed Narciso as such a threat that they eventually clashed in a bloody conflict, with Narciso withdrawing from the Six Houses of Snow.

In the end, Wellington would earn the title “Lion of the Snowfields,” a beast that would one day bare its fangs at the Ragnar dragon.

But Theo remembered him differently.

- The prodigy he had always wanted to surpass.

At fifteen, Wellington was the same age as Theo.

They had both participated in the Blooming Ceremony and joined the battlefield around the same time.

But their paths diverged.

Wellington always shone brightly, while Theo remained in the shadows.

Theo had always envied Wellington.

He had been one of the people Theo looked forward to meeting again in the Blooming Ceremony.

‘But to encounter him here…’

Moreover, Theo could read the emotions in Wellington’s gaze.

A desire for competition.

A hunger to fight.

‘Has my progress reached a point where someone like him considers me a worthy opponent?’

*Thump, thump, thump!*

Theo’s heart pounded with excitement.

In his past life, he had only admired this peer, but now he could face him as an equal.

‘Am I truly capable of it now?’

Theo assessed his remaining stamina.

It would be a challenge, even in his best condition, to face someone like Wellington, a genius who had stirred the North at five years old.

‘Even so, if I can fight him now!’

Driven by a burning desire to test himself against his former idol, Theo steeled his resolve.

‘A swift bout is my only option.’

*Thunk!*

Without a word, Theo thrust his zwe

ihander into the training hall floor.

A surprising move.

One of Wellington’s eyebrows raised.

“Are you conceding?”

“Not a chance.”

“Good.”

Wellington assumed a stance and began the ritual exchange.

“I am Wellington Narciso, junior knight of House Narciso. I have come early to observe the Blooming Ceremony of our esteemed sovereign, Ragnar, and to learn of their swordsmanship firsthand. I am grateful for the chance to cross swords with one of Ragnar’s own.”

“I am Theo Ragnar, thirty-first son of the great protector of the North and lord of the Winter Mountains, ‘Kyle Ragnar,’ preparing for the Blooming Ceremony. I am honored to face the renowned heir of House Narciso.”

Theo caught his breath and answered with equal formality.

Wellington’s expression wavered momentarily, right when Theo mentioned his father, Kyle.

‘Already concerned with the status gap between the main house and vassals, was he?’

As Theo considered this, they both moved.

*Whoosh!*

*Whoosh!*

They launched forward at the same time.

Wellington aimed a precise, swift strike at Theo’s forehead, utilizing the Narciso family’s famed swift blade technique.

But Theo, pouring everything he had into his Dragon’s Heart, unleashed an explosive force, swinging his zweihander in an all-or-nothing strike.

It was a single, decisive swing, relying purely on raw strength.

*Clang!*

The air rang with a metallic crash loud enough to pierce ears, as something flew high into the air.

“Fast!”

“What just happened? I couldn’t even see it properly!”

“Wait…?”

“Is that…?”

The onlookers gasped in awe, slowly realizing the weapon lying broken in half on the ground was the zweihander.

They each had the same thought.

- Ah, Wellington won.

It seemed obvious, though no one spoke aloud.

While the outcome was as expected, they knew how remarkable Theo’s spirit had been, and they felt disappointed that the duel had ended.

Some were even disheartened that Theo hadn’t bested Narciso.

But then…

“... I admit my defeat. Thank you for allowing me to engage in such an excellent match.”

Unexpectedly, Wellington lowered his head in respect toward Theo.