The clash of sword and axe produced a sharp sonic boom. Kevin, who easily blocked Bruel's attack, raised an eyebrow slightly. A trace of doubt flickered in his black eyes.
Hey, so light...
Kevin gave the burly Bruel another look. After confirming that Bruel was indeed putting in a decent amount of effort, Kevin lightly pushed him back without breaking a sweat.
Bruel stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing, his expression shifting to one of mild surprise. "What a great strength..."
Kevin: ...
"Boy, I can't believe it!" Bruel declared with a laugh, placing his giant axe on his shoulder proudly. "Someone who looks so weak can actually compete with me in strength! Come on, kid, let's see what you've got!"
Without waiting for a reply, Bruel leaped into the air, swinging his massive axe down toward Kevin with all his might.
The whistle of the blade slicing through the air carried the acrid scent of blood. Kevin noticed the dried, dark residue staining the axe, dodged Bruel's attack gracefully, and landed a short distance away. His lips curled in disdain.
Is this...a butcher's axe? You didn't even bother to clean it!
The axe had indeed seen plenty of use—not just in battle, but in slaughtering wild boars in the forest. It had felled many a beast, and more than a few humans.
"So fast..." Bruel muttered, his brows furrowing as he watched Kevin evade with almost casual ease. Around them, members of the Red Branch Knights began to take notice, their expressions shifting from mild amusement to skepticism.
As seasoned fighters who often battled ferocious opponents, they were no strangers to strength and skill. Yet Kevin's deceptive appearance had initially led them to underestimate him.
Meanwhile, Cu Chulainn leaned lazily against a post, watching the scene with a smirk. "Was he...just complaining about how dirty that axe is?"
Connor, seated beside him, nodded with a knowing grin. "Next time you fight him, remember to clean your weapons first."
Kevin had indeed caught Bruel's earlier taunt, but his focus wasn't on proving himself to the knights. He simply wanted to observe and understand their reactions.
Around him, some of the knights began murmuring among themselves.
Am I...actually strong?
Kevin wanted to shake the thought away. While he had recently defeated Cu Chulainn in the Colosseum, he considered the victory situational—a result of his superior technique rather than raw strength. Deep down, he still doubted he could best someone like Connor in a real fight.
Yet the murmurs and questioning looks from the knights hinted at something else entirely.
Bruel, oblivious to Kevin's internal musings, charged again, his voice booming, "Boy, what are you daydreaming about?"
This time, Kevin stood his ground. With a sharp clang, he intercepted Bruel's axe, the resulting shockwave rippling through the air. Kevin's boots left two shallow imprints in the dirt.
The crowd gasped. Many of the Red Branch Knights exchanged startled glances. Bruel, the hulking brute known for his sheer power, had been stopped effortlessly by this seemingly frail boy.
For Kevin, however, the clash was almost laughably easy.
So this is the best they've got?
Kevin chuckled to himself. The stark contrast between the overwhelming strength of his mentor, Scathach, and the combat prowess of these knights was staggering.
No wonder Cu Chulainn gave me that weird look when I suited up this morning. He probably thought I was preparing to fight Connor.
Kevin gave Bruel a gentle shove, pushing him backward. Without giving his opponent time to recover, Kevin launched a series of swift, calculated attacks.
Though he was more proficient with a spear, Kevin's mastery of swordsmanship was far from lacking. He had trained relentlessly with Scathach, honing his agility and precision. His movements were fluid, almost artful, as he forced Bruel onto the defensive.
"Ha!" Kevin found an opening, delivered a well-timed kick to Bruel's chest, and sent him sprawling.
Before Bruel could rise, Kevin stepped forward, scanning the crowd of knights. His calm voice cut through the murmurs. "Is there anyone else?"
The knights exchanged hesitant glances. Finally, a man wielding twin blades stepped forward, clearly intending to outmatch Kevin with speed.
But it took less than a minute for Kevin to disarm him, leaving the man bewildered and defeated.
Connor, watching from the sidelines, chuckled. "Look at your brother, Cu Chulainn. He's so refined compared to you. Last time you were here, you were like a wild beast, pouncing on anyone who came near."
Cu Chulainn smirked but said nothing.
Bruel, who had rejoined the group, was grinning despite his earlier defeat. "No kidding. Last time, Cu Chulainn stepped on my head so hard I thought he'd crush it! Honestly, it makes me doubt whether these two are even brothers!"
Kevin, hearing this, couldn't resist a laugh. "Well, you're not wrong." He tilted his head toward Cu Chulainn and added dryly, "This one? Definitely a free pickup."
The knights burst into laughter, the tension dissipating as they welcomed Kevin into their ranks.
Despite his victories, Kevin couldn't shake his irritation at being underestimated. His youthful, unassuming appearance had become a source of frustration, especially given how much he had endured to reach this point.
The divine fruit, which had fortified his body during his grueling training, was both a blessing and a curse. While it had enhanced his resilience and recovery, it had also prevented him from developing the bulky, muscular physique typical of warriors in this era.
Still, Kevin knew better than to let appearances define him. As he stood among the Red Branch Knights, their respect evident in their cheers and camaraderie, he allowed himself a small smile.
It's not how you look—it's what you do that matters.
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