Theo chuckled to himself.
'This wasn't quite what I had in mind.'
He had spread the rumors and gathered the crowd to teach those with an inferiority complex a lesson and change people's opinion of him.
However, he had missed something crucial: their pride as swordsmen of Ragnar.
He expected a mob to rush him after his provocation. Instead, they seemed averse to ganging up on him, considering it shameful behavior for a Ragnar swordsman.
When Theo revealed his true skill, Sybil acknowledged his error and bowed his head.
It wasn't just Sybil. Most of the onlookers avoided his gaze or stole quick glances, faces flushed.
'Well, this works, too.'
When an opponent offered sincere apologies, reciprocating was a swordsman's duty.
Theo relaxed his stance and offered a sword salute.
"Theo Ragnar. I am a novice swordsman of the Rose Palace. Because I am awaiting the Awakening Ceremony, I have no master yet."
Sybil's head snapped up. He recognized the ritual. It was the 'formal exchange of names' before an official duel.
It meant that Theo considered him an equal dueling partner, not a target to punish.
His nose tingled, but he held back tears, replying firmly, "Sybil Drea. I am an inspector swordsman stationed at the Southern Gate Inspection Post. Trained in the Kuray Clan's swordsmanship, my specialty is the Quicksword. I anticipate a good match."
Theo nodded and lowered his Zweihander.
Clang!
Their swords met lightly before they stepped back, each assuming a stance of their own.
Fwoooo—
A torrent of fighting spirit emanated from Theo once again.
Sybil gulped, his grip tightening on his sword. Not only had it been some time since his last formal duel, but Theo's presence felt even more overwhelming than earlier.
Ba-thump! Ba-thump!
So why was his heart racing so fast?
Was it his nerves? Or…
'Is young master Theo's intensity affecting me—?'
His thoughts were interrupted by Theo's sudden movement.
Whoosh—
'He's fast!'
His movements with the massive Zweihander were astonishingly swift.
However, Sybil remained calm, raising his sword to a middle guard.
Clang!
"Kghf!"
Sybil stumbled back. The impact felt like he was hit by a hammer to the chest, but he quickly regained his footing and countered.
Kling! Kling! Klang!
[You have gained the approval of 'Sybil Drea'.
Luck increased by 1.]
[You have gained some experience points.]
'He wasn't exaggerating about his Quicksword,' Theo thought.
Theo compensated for the Zweihander's slowness with brute strength, forcefully drawing on his Dragon Heart to parry Sybil's rapid attacks.
He deflected a low sweep with the flat of his blade and evaded a thrust aimed at his neck by leaping backward, closing the distance back instantly.
From «Pilgrim's Progress» to «Paradise Lost», Theo chained his attacks seamlessly.
Klang! Klang!
Sybil was a formidable opponent, allowing him to test out the various sword styles.
But finally…
Claaaang!
With all his strength, Theo swung his Zweihander upwards.
Fwip fwip fwip.
Sybil's sword flew out of his hand, embedding itself into the ground.
Though he was clutching his injured hand, his expression was surprisingly bright.
"It's my defeat," Sybil yielded.
"It was a good fight," Theo acknowledged.
As Sybil turned away, he wore a smile more radiant than ever.
Theo surveyed the training ground, "Who's next?"
* * *
Nervous gulps and rippled through the crowd.
"The rumors…"
"They were true."
"If I was in Sybil's shoes, could I have even matched his attacks?"
The onlookers shared a single, collective thought.
'I want to fight him!'
Everything Theo and Sybil had displayed was etched in their memories.
The courtesy before the duel, the mutual respect, the hunger for victory, the fighting spirit, the acceptance of defeat, and… the passion.
They yearned to experience that passionate heat.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Everyone's hearts pounded like drums. Their blood rushed while their lips went dry.
This wasn't something one could understand with just their mind. A primal connection shared only between swordsmen that could only be felt heart to heart.
"May I be next…?" one stepped forward, swallowing nervously.
Theo nodded, and the man, his face alight, performed a sword salute.
"Eod Naran. Third son of the Naran Viscount Clan. I practice a sword style called «Double Ascension»."
"Theo Ragnar of the Rose Palace. Let's have a good match."
Clang!
Theo and Eod lightly clashed their swords to start the duel.
Whoosh!
[You have gained the approval of 'Eod Naran'.
Luck increased by 1.]
[You have gained some experience points.]
And so the second duel ended.
[You have gained the approval of 'Beñat Remiro'.
Luck increased by 1.]
And the third.
[You have gained the approval of 'Erik Moran'.
Luck increased by 1.]
…and so on, so forth through the ninth duel.
The intensity of the passion filling the training ground only grew hotter, showing no signs of cooling down.
As time went on, the faces of the swordsmen grew redder with excitement.
"Huff… Huff…" Theo panted.
He was drenched in sweat, his breath ragged.
Consecutive duels against such skilled swordsmen were draining his stamina.
He looked on the verge of collapse, but his eyes, gleaming through his disheveled hair, held an intensity that made people doubt he was only fifteen.
It was like peering into the eyes of a dragon.
Despite having been showered with insults, Theo was still a Ragnar, a descendant of dragons.
The onlookers felt privileged to witness the emergence of a dragon.
"Next," Theo's sharp dragon gaze swept over the crowd. "Who's next?"
The onlookers hesitated. They longed for the privilege of crossing swords with him, but Theo looked so exhausted, it no longer felt right.
"You seem fatigued. What if you postponed the rest? I'm sure no one here doubts your skills anymore, young master Theo," someone in the crowd suggested.
"I will decide when I rest. And it's not yet."
"If you insist… I'd like to request a match," a young man who'd been observing with his arms crossed stepped forward.
Short, silver hair styled into a pomade. A tall height unfitting his youthful face.
His composed gaze and refined mannerisms were a clear indication that he was from an elite clan.
Theo's eyes lit up. 'He's finally stepped up,'
This person was the reason Theo had endured so many duels.
[Observing 'Remington Narcio'.]
[Remington Narcio (15/Male)
· Title: Junior Clan Head of Narcio
· Talent: Sword Genius, Keen Senses, Extreeeeeme Hard Worker
· Status: Surprised by the emergence of an unexpected rival.]
Among the many vassal clans supporting the Ragnars, the six largest were referred to as the '6 Snow Clans'.
Even among the Snow Clans, the Narcio Clan was one of the most prestigious.
Remington was the sole heir of such a clan, and in the future, he would elevate his clan to rival even the Ragnars.
The Ragnars, wary of the Narcios, tried to keep them in check so hard that it eventually led to the clan's secession and a great battle.
The title Remington would earn then was 'Lion of the Snowfield'—a fierce beast striking the drape of a dragon that was Ragnar.
But Theo remembered him for something else.
'A prodigy I wanted to surpass.'
Being fifteen, Remington and Theo were the same age.
They would undergo the Awakening Ceremony together, enter active duty together. But their results would be opposite.
Remington always shone while Theo remained hidden by a shadow.
Theo always envied him, which was why Remington was one of the people he most wanted to meet at the Awakening Ceremony.
'To think we'd meet here.'
Theo could read the emotion in Remington's eyes.
A competitive spirit. The desire to win.
'Someone like him wants to spar with me…? Have I truly grown that much?'
Thump! Thump! Thump!
His heart raced. The prospect of facing his former idol as an equal thrilled him.
'But can I do it in my current state?'
Theo calmly assessed his remaining stamina. A long fight was out of the question. Remington was a prodigy among prodigies that made a name for himself already at the age of five. Even at full strength, victory was uncertain.
'But I still want to cross swords with him!'
The strong desire to clash with his childhood idol steeled his will.
'A quick battle is my only option.'
Thnnk!
Without a word, Theo plunged his Zweihander into the ground.
It was an unexpected action.
Remington's eyebrow twitched, "Are you surrendering?"
"Of course not."
"Very well."
Remington assumed his stance.
"My name is Remington Narcio, a Low-Rank Swordsman of the Narcio Clan. I've come to observe the swordsmanship of our liege, the Ragnars, before the upcoming Awakening Ceremony. I have accomplished that here, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to directly cross swords with a Ragnar."
"Theo Ragnar, 31st son of 'Kyle Ragnar', the Guardian Dragon of the North and Master of the Winter Mountains. I am a novice swordsman preparing for the upcoming Awakening Ceremony. I'm honored to face the reputable junior clan head of Narcio," Theo replied politely, catching his breath.
Remington's expression flickered at the mention of being Kyle's son.
'Was he already conscious of the difference in status at this age?'
As Theo wondered…
Whoosh!
Swoosh!
They both moved simultaneously.
Remington aimed for Theo's forehead with the Narcio Clan's proud Quicksword.
Meanwhile, Theo, channeling all the energy in his Dragon Heart, explosively drew his Zweihander upwards.
It was a sword draw technique reliant purely on strength.
Craaaaash!
With an earsplitting clang of metal clashing, something flew into the air.
"Th-that was fast!"
"What did he just do…? I didn't even see him move!"
"Huh?"
"Isn't that…!"
The observers gasped, seeing the bisected Zweihander.
'Oh. Remington won,' they all thought, but remained silent.
While the outcome seemed inevitable, they recognized the amazing fighting spirit Theo had displayed so far.
They were disappointed that they couldn't see Theo duel more today, as well as feeling dejected that a fellow Ragnar swordsman failed to defeat a Narcio.
But then…
"…It is my defeat. Thank you for a good match," Remington bowed to Theo.