“This… has more potential than I expected.”

The technique he mimicked from that guy Maximus, a concentration of power. The foundation was based on the sword's resonance, but the way it could be utilized seemed to vary infinitely depending on the individual's capabilities.

Whether it was pulling lightning, threading energy, or even—

“—harboring starlight.”

Ihan found the method he copied from that man unexpectedly enjoyable.

Somehow…

“I could probably come up with even more interesting techniques.”

It seemed like the possibilities for crafting fun new methods were endless.

Well…

…Whoooosh…

Not right away, though.

“Hmm. I guess I’m not used to it yet—it’s tricky to maintain. Hey, Blackie, how do you manage to sustain something this complicated? Is this just another talent gap?”
“…Just insult me instead.”
“Why?”
“The fact that you can genuinely say you don’t know is infuriating.”

Roen was at a loss for words. Creating a technique that was clearly a superior version of his sword aura, all while claiming to lack talent—how was he supposed to feel about that?

“I understand now why others curse me so much…”

As he reflected on his past, Roen realized why both his allies and enemies always glared at him during fights. He had been a terrible leader and, frankly, a terrible person back then.

This is excellent mirror therapy.

Despite everything, the sparring session lasted over 80 minutes. Though it seemed excessively long for a duel, it wasn’t just about swinging swords and axes at each other.

What they were doing could be called a "debate of swords."

Ihan and Roen not only clashed physically but also verbally, pointing out each other’s flaws and seeking new directions for improvement.

“If someone attacks you with a quick strike, I’ll block it and bring my axe down on their head.”
“I’d deflect it and aim for the throat immediately.”
“…Hmm. Want to try it out for real?”
“…Is this still considered a debate?”
“It’s a practical debate.”
“Calling something a debate doesn’t make it one.”

And so, they fiercely discussed and tested techniques, pushing each other just far enough without causing real harm. Time passed in a flash.

After the sparring session, naturally—

“The energy drain from sword aura comes from indiscriminate power expenditure. If you could control it as precisely as you do your Diamond Body technique, you’d extend its duration significantly. If you’re willing, I could teach you the basics of energy control. With your skills, you’d master it in no time….”
“No, thanks. If I try to learn something like that now, I’ll end up spreading myself too thin.”
“…That’s fair.”

The two reviewed their sparring session and exchanged meaningful advice.

“You don’t have any major weaknesses. Your swordsmanship is already at a master’s level, and your movements and judgment are top-tier. If there’s one flaw, it’s that your focus is too narrow. In a one-on-one fight, that can be a strength, but it also means you don’t pay attention to your surroundings.”
“Should I fix it, or leave it as is?”
“Learn to switch it on and off. If you can do that, you’ll be nearly flawless. Although… there is one more issue—you’re ‘too perfect.’”
“…Is that a joke?”
“No, it’s serious. You try too hard to be perfect, and that’s a problem.”
“Trying to be perfect is a problem?”
“Being perfect means you’re following a set path—one that others have already walked. It makes you predictable. And predictability is easy to exploit.”
“……”
“Unless you become some godlike monster who can cleave the sea with a single strike, this will catch up to you one day.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

For some, such words might sound like an insult, but Roen took them seriously. He seemed to have grasped something significant.

“That’s true. If I ever face someone like you, I’d probably panic and lose.”
“Me?”
“There’s no one else with such unconventional methods and thinking.”
“I’m pretty normal.”
“…Please don’t say that in public.”
“?”

The two shared a meaningful exchange and, as the night descended, set their weapons aside.

“How about it? Want to stay the night?”
“No, I’d rather not be the unwelcome guest.”
“Since when do you care about such things?”
“…What do you think of me, really?”
“Can you handle the answer without being hurt?”
“…I think I’d rather not know.”
“Haha!”

Teasing him was enjoyable in its own way.

Despite his cold exterior, Roen had a strangely human side to him.

He’s not a bad guy.

He was surprisingly relatable—making mistakes, showing vulnerability, and even fumbling here and there.

And—

“Next time, I’d like to see ‘it.’ That beast roaring inside you.”
“!!!!”

He was unnecessarily kind, too.

Roen’s eyes widened in shock as if to say, How could you know that?

“I just guessed.”
“You guessed?”
“My intuition’s been sharp lately.”

Whether it was something Ihan sensed during their fight or a result of his heightened awareness from leveling up, he had noticed the presence of a “massive beast” sleeping within Roen.

It was smaller than the Grand Duke’s beast he had encountered at the academy, but its power was undeniable—a black beast of formidable strength.

“Your intuition is at a near-mystical level.”
“It surprises even me. Anyway, that thing reacts to your emotions, doesn’t it? It seems pretty rebellious too… you’re carrying a dangerous burden.”
“…If you suggested I buy medicine right now, I might actually consider it.”
“Good thing I’m not a peddler.”

Ihan chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, while Roen’s face grew serious. The revelation of his secret seemed to trouble him.

But Ihan reassured him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’s not my style to go blabbing about other people’s secrets.”

He wasn’t the type to use someone’s vulnerability against them.

“And even if I did, what’s in it for me?”
“I’m quite wealthy. Money could be an incentive.”
“You’re seriously offering a bribe? What, five gold coins?”
“I was thinking more like 50,000 gold coins.”
“……”
“That could buy you a small estate with vineyards and decent tax revenue.”
“…So you really are filthy rich.”

As tempting as it was, Ihan ultimately refused Roen’s offer. Accepting the money would only add unnecessary complications.

“I’m already shackled by one leash; I don’t need another.”

Still, the thought lingered.

“…Maybe I should’ve asked for just 500.”

Regret was hard to shake.

Growl!

As Ihan mulled over his decision, he heard the guttural roar of the “beast” within Roen. According to Roen, it wasn’t supposed to be audible, but Ihan heard it clearly.

“So, this is the Black King?”

The mysterious power of Lionel, said to rival the kingdom’s aura users and the magic sword of Galahad. However, Ihan felt certain this wasn’t the same as the Grand Duke’s beast—it seemed more like a fragment from the future.

A bonus power granted through Roen’s regression, perhaps?

“Maybe its weakened state is a penalty of some kind?”

Still, even a weakened beast like this was formidable. It wasn’t as overwhelming as the Grand Duke’s beast, but it was dangerous enough.

“Fighting that thing would be a life-or-death gamble. Now it makes sense why you held back during our first spar—you were afraid it might rampage, weren’t you? You’re surprisingly considerate.”
“…How exactly do you see me, instructor?”
“As just another noble brat.”
“……”

Roen could only sigh at Ihan’s casual disdain for nobility.

Sizzle!

The sparring ended with a late-night meal—pork grilled on high-quality charcoal over an iron grill, a gift from a friend.

Of the 15 kilograms of pork, Ihan alone planned to eat 10.

The aroma of pork fat sizzling over hot coals filled the air, and the quality of the meat was evident—no unpleasant smell, just pure deliciousness.

“Is this a Barbarian-style roast? I’ve heard they grill fresh meat like this to replenish strength and nutrients. I didn’t expect you to take an interest in other cultures.”
“…Not really.”

Ihan felt awkward being labeled a cultural connoisseur. He had simply received the pork as a gift and decided to cook it this way for nostalgia.

“Eat up. Wrap it in lettuce like this.”
“Wow, there’s a wrapping culture here too?”
“Not that I know of.”
“That means you invented it? Genius!”
“…Is that really something worth praising?”
“Yes, absolutely!”
“……”

Was this deliberate naivety or genuine obliviousness?

“Is this some kind of romantic fantasy curse?”

Ihan shook his head, wondering how someone could miss such obvious hints.

Still, he felt a sense of pride watching everyone eat so heartily. Maybe this is what a parent feels like?

“More like what a chef feels,” quipped Leyra, offering him a knowing smile.

“…Could you stop reading my mind?”
“Hehe, I’m not! Here, say ‘ahh.’”
“……”
“Ahh.”
“…Ah.”

Despite himself, Ihan took a bite of the food Leyra offered.

…It’s delicious.

Then, just as things had settled into a peaceful rhythm—

“Instructor,” Roen spoke up unexpectedly, as though presenting a bill after a meal.

“This might seem sudden, but my visit today wasn’t just to exchange information.”
“?”
“There’s a high chance you’ll soon be entangled in a very troublesome matter.”
“…I’m already dealing with a few.”
“This one is different. And the reason is—”

What Roen said next made it clear why he used the term "troublesome."

“The Holy Church is likely watching you. The Inquisitors, in particular, have taken notice.”

Great, Ihan thought. Nothing like religious meddling to make things even more fun.