Confusion rippled through the onlookers.
The one who had their sword broken was Theo, a clear demonstration of the disparity in skill and strength.
Why, then, had Remington declared defeat?
Could Theo be so drained from the previous duels that Remington was simply being gracious?
"That's not it, you dummies," a sharp voice cut through their bewildered whispers.
Everyone turned their heads back towards the voice.
Click, clack.
"Manager Evelyn…?"
The people who recognized her were astonished. She wasn't in her usual attire. Clad in a form-fitting white uniform, epaulets gleaming on her shoulders…
The Dragon-embossed gold button on her uniform looked like they were about to come to life and breathe fire.
With each precise step, the rapier at her hip chimed, a sharp counterpoint to the swaying of her empty left sleeve, which somehow only amplified her grace and dignity.
It was the all-white uniform of the White-Armored Dragon Cavalry, issued only to senior officials.
The observers were utterly captivated by the powerful aura she radiated. And how could they not be? Evelyn was an icon, a legend among Ragnar's swordsmen.
"What if he had channeled magic power into that strike? Or infused it with aura? Consider the outcome," Evelyn stated.
Her gaze remained fixed on the training ground, brushing aside the stunned onlookers.
"If you still don't understand, your head is a glorified trash can," Evelyn stated.
She strode towards Theo and Remington, leaving the observers speechless as comprehension finally struck.
Theo and Remington's blades had clashed simultaneously. The crucial difference lay in the reach of their weapons.
Theo's Zweihander was significantly longer, and Remington had stepped within its deadly arc. Factor in the Zweihander's weight…
A wave of realization washed over the observers, bringing with it a sheen of cold sweat.
'How can he move that fast with a Zweihander?'
'Against a Narcio, famed for their Quicksword, no less!'
'How much faster will he be once he can use magic power?'
Theo suddenly seemed monstrous.
'The rumors were true. No, in fact, they barely scratched the surface!'
The thought resonated through them all.
But then Theo spoke up, "No, it is my loss. It was my sword that broke. It was an honor to cross blades with you."
He offered a sword salute, bowing his head. The earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by respect and dignity.
Ba-thump, ba-thump!
Watching on, the hearts of the swordsmen were stirred by their primal instincts.
The intensity of the duel, the clean, mutual respect displayed in its aftermath, the fire in their eyes—it ignited a yearning to join them, to be a part of that world.
The chivalrous ideal they had only dreamed of was unfolding before them.
* * *
"Young master Theo, your sword was already worn from countless duels. Not to mention you were exhausted. The defeat is mine in this duel."
"Such considerations do not exist on the battlefield. A swordsman without his sword is simply defeated."
As this unusual debate over the victor continued, Theo assessed the gains from his ten duels.
His [Luck] had surged by 10 points. His other stats had also seen minor improvements, contributing to his overall growth.
'As I thought. I still have a long way to go,' a new concern gnawed at him.
The clash with Remington had exposed a critical flaw.
'I've mastered the forms of the secret sword styles. I can use and mix them up, but I can't seem to go beyond.'
The secret sword styles were typically divided into two parts: the form, encompassing the techniques and explanations, and the essence contained within.
The form was merely the outward shell. As long as you weren't stupid, anyone could memorize it with enough practice. Mastery of the form allowed for modification, creating variations and new applications.
But the essence was different. Like the nutrient-rich yolk within an egg, the essence held the profound truth of the sword style. Without grasping it, he was merely imitating.
The secret manuals Theo took from the library were exceptional sword styles that would one day astonish even the council.
The problem was Theo's limited discernment of swordsmanship itself. He needed something more to unlock their true potential.
'A Master…' Theo swallowed, 'I need a master to teach and guide me towards the correct path.'
But was there any master that would be willing to teach him?
He thought, 'No, of course not.'
The image of 'Theo Ragnar' was abysmal. While this recent display might shift some perceptions, the people here were still mostly Ragnar's rejects.
Defeating them wouldn't instantly erase the past. Rebuilding his reputation would take time.
And even if a suitable master existed, they were likely already committed to another student for the upcoming Awakening Ceremony.
'Master Nuwitz would be ideal, but… I'm confined to Wintera until the Awakening Ceremony is over. Besides, he's more of a scholar of theory. He's no good with real-world combat.'
More importantly, Nuwitz wouldn't truly emerge for another five years. It wasn't time yet.
After considering all possibilities, only one person remained.
'Julius…'
But Theo shook his head.
Since Julius held him in high regard, he would likely agree if asked. However, it felt wrong to impose on him after refusing his offer.
Asking now would require genuine intent to join the White-Armored Dragon Cavalry.
'I guess I have no choice but to figure it out alone.'
Five months remained until the Awakening Ceremony. With dedicated training and regular sparring, he thought he might be able to grasp the 'essence'.
"Your thinking is flawed. 'Essence' is not what you lack," a voice said as if reading his mind.
Startled, Theo turned to find Evelyn in uniform, standing behind him.
Before he could question her attire, another thought struck him.
"How did you know what I was thinking…?" he asked Evelyn.
"It's obvious what you'd be struggling with at your age, young master Theo."
"..."
Was that a compliment or an insult?
Evelyn chuckled softly at Theo's bewildered expression, "Forgive me if I was rude."
"…It's okay. Anyway, can you elaborate? What do you mean my thinking is flawed?"
"What do you believe 'essence' is?"
"Is it not the profound truth contained within a sword style?"
"Then can you define profound truth?"
"The ultimate goal of said sword style…?"
"And would that goal be?"
"The intent of the creator?"
"And what is that intent?"
"..."
The questions continued, each building upon the last until Theo's thoughts ground to a halt.
"In the end, 'essence' is the core of a sword style."
"The core…"
"But that core isn't as grand as it sounds. Some romanticize it, claiming it embodies the vastness of the sky or the depth of the ocean. Ultimately, it's a simple combination of what we already know. Swinging, thrusting, blocking, parrying, cutting, etc…"
Theo finally understood what Evelyn was getting at.
The fundamentals. His grasp of the basic movements, the foundation for any swordsman, was incomplete.
"You're an anomaly, young master Theo. Your fundamentals are lacking, yet you know a surprising number of great sword styles I've never seen."
"..."
"Of course, I'm not inquiring about their origin. I'm simply observing that you're approaching this backward," Evelyn explained with an unwavering gaze, "Can a child run before it walks? Can a newborn bird fly before it can even flap their wings?"
"But…"
"Yes, I know. You've been training diligently, and you haven't encountered any problems so far, have you?"
Theo nodded.
"But that's only because you're a Ragnar."
"...!"
"A Ragnar's physique allows a child that can't walk yet to fly. It allows a child who can't even look after themself to go for the jugular of their enemy. It's a truly blessed body. And young master Theo, you are capable of soaring through the skies while slaying your enemies. That is the level of talent you possess."
Up till now, he had been relying on his talent. Or more precisely, on the Dragon Heart.
"You need to refine your fundamentals before you start relying too much on your talent. A solid foundation will allow you to ascend to greater heights without fear of collapse."
Theo fidgeted his fingers. He felt like something was hanging just ever so slightly beyond his reach.
What did he have to do to grab ahold of it?
The answer was in his mind, 'I need someone beside me who can guide me if I am going down the wrong path or correct me when I make a poor judgment.'
A master. Not a charlatan like Rendon, but a true master.
Someone like… the woman before him.
"Evelyn."
"Yes."
"Will you be my master and teach me the sword?"
Gasp!
The onlookers expressed their surprise.
Even retired, instruction from a former member of the White-Armored Dragon Cavalry was an immense honor.
Remington, who was standing nearby, watched with a curious expression on his face.
"Do you see this uniform?" Evelyn asked.
Her question was not what Theo had expected.
"H-huh? Yes, I do. Are you rejoining the White-Armored Dragon Cavalry?"
"Yes. Though temporarily, I am returning to my post."
Theo had known Evelyn in both the present and past life, but she had never spoken of her personal history.
Yet now, she was rejoining her former unit.
Was this the butterfly effect? But Theo didn't think there was an event to significantly alter history yet.
"What do you mean, temporarily?"
"It's exactly what it means. And the commander set a condition."
"A condition?"
"Yes. He instructed me to become your master."
"..."
"He said it's what you need most right now."
"...!"
The murmurs intensified.
"Wh-What?"
"A member of the White-Armored Dragon Cavalry as a master…?"
"Not just any member! It's Lady Evelyn! The commander's old right-hand woman. The legendary Evelyn!"
"Is this another recruitment attempt?"
"I can't believe it… The prideful White-Armored Dragon Cavalry extending an invitation not once but twice."
"To receive private instruction even before the Awakening Ceremony. This is unreal!"
"But don't you think he's earned it?"
"That's true. He's Sir Remington's equal…"
Their gazes, once filled with awe, now shone with adoration. So much so that Theo was starting to feel a little uneasy.
'Julius… He anticipated this after such a brief meeting? He really is a remarkable man,' Theo thought.
"Wait, is this some kind of condition—?"
Theo tried to ask, but Evelyn cut him short.
"You don't have to worry about that. The commander assured me that this is purely a gesture of goodwill."
"Goodwill?"
"Yes. He called it an investment for the future."
"..."
Theo scratched his head. Julius's intentions were unfathomable.
But there was no reason to refuse. He wanted Evelyn as his master.
"In that case, thank you. I'll be in your care."
"Very well. Then take up your sword."
"…What?"
"The commander does not think for me. I need to test you myself to determine if you are worthy to be my pupil."
Her logic was sound, so Theo instinctively reached for his Zweihander, before remembering it was broken.
"Let me get another sword…!"
"Didn't you just say such things are mere excuses in a real fight?"
"...!"
"Try and block."
Whoosh—
'She's fast!'
A flash of speed that belied her supposed impairment, as if she had never stopped wielding a sword.
Theo pushed his Dragon Heart to its limits, desperately tracking Evelyn's movements.
Just as he angled his broken Zweihander to block…
Swish!
Remington's sword darted between them.
Klang!
"With your sword half gone, shouldn't you compensate for the missing half? My sword seems like the perfect length for it," Remington grinned, glancing at Theo.
Smirk!
Theo grinned back, mirroring Remington's movements.
Theo went to the left, Remington to the right.
Whoosh!
They moved as one, as if rehearsed. Their movements were sharp and precise.
"Excellent thinking, both of you." Evelyn, unfazed by the interruption, even expressed admiration as she swiftly countered their combined attack.
Cling! Clang! Clang!
Three swords danced in a blur, filling the training ground with the ringing of steel.
"Wooo!" the crowd roared.
The onlookers' approval first evolved into admiration. Now, captivated by Theo's passionate fury, they had become his followers.
The followers erupted in cheers, their voices echoing through the training ground.
And with each resounding cheer…
Thump-thump! Thump-thump!
The hearts of everyone present pounded fiercely.
[Congratulations! You have successfully completed Tutorial Quest #8…]