Ragnariel dashed toward Dheo, leaping high and aiming a strike at his neck. However, Dheo easily evaded the attack, but Ragnariel had anticipated this and swiftly redirected his strike toward Dheo's leg. The attack landed on Dheo's thigh.
Seeing that Ragnariel had yet to regain his footing, Dheo seized the opportunity to retaliate. Ragnariel grinned, then quickly planted his left hand on the ground and spun, narrowly avoiding Dheo's strike aimed at his body. He then struck at Dheo's wrist, knocking his wooden sword from his hand.
The crowd fell silent, shocked by the fall of Dheo, the most skilled captain among them. Dheo stood still, stunned by the turn of events. Ragnariel calmly walked to the corner of the arena, calling out, "Pick up your sword. I'm sure you've underestimated me."
Dheo, still in disbelief, walked over to retrieve his wooden sword. "Did I truly underestimate him? No, I never take any fight lightly. This time, I will be more serious."
He readied himself once more, and Ragnariel spoke, "This time, it's your turn to attack, Sir Dheo," as he raised his sword in a playful challenge.
Dheo charged at Ragnariel, unleashing a series of attacks. But Ragnariel effortlessly deflected every one of them.
Ragnariel then began his own counterattack, aiming at Dheo's left leg. "Your leg is too weak," he remarked, before spinning to strike at his right shoulder. "You're too stiff."
Next, he targeted Dheo's arm. "Your grip is too tight." Ragnariel struck Dheo's wrist again, sending his wooden sword crashing to the ground. "You need to become one with your sword."
Once again, Dheo stood in silence, defeated. Ragnariel looked around and said, "Alright, that's enough for today's lesson."
Once more, the onlookers were stunned. Even Sir Garran, who had witnessed many battles, couldn't help but marvel at Ragnariel's skill. "Incredible. Dheo, who has been undefeated for the past five years, couldn't even land a blow on the young master. Was what the young master said to Duke Kaelthorn back then true?"
A smile spread across Sir Garran's face, and he felt a spark of excitement.
Ragnariel lowered the tip of his wooden sword, resting both hands on its hilt, and scanned the silent crowd of knights before him. "Anyone else want to try?" he asked, his voice casual yet sharp.
The knights remained still, their silence more telling than any answer. Ragnariel smirked. "No one? What a bunch of cowards."
Murmurs and whispers began to ripple through the group as anger simmered among the knights. Ragnariel ignored their grumbling and continued, his tone mockingly generous. "How about this then, cowards? Form groups, five, ten, however many you want, and come at me all at once."
Despite his taunt, the knights remained rooted in place, their pride wounded but their courage wavering. "No one dare to take it?" Ragnariel asked again, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Fine then."
He took a deep breath, spreading his qi into his throat. His voice boomed, amplified and resonant, shaking the air and gripping the hearts of everyone present. "Listen up, you miserable knights!"
The training ground fell silent, captivated by the commanding force of his words. "If you hate serving here, you may leave. If you despise me, challenge me anytime I always ready for a duel. And remember this in your soul, if you're so offended by serving under someone who was once a commoner. Then go chase your so-called glory and earn your own nobility through skill and power. Otherwise, keep your grumbling to yourselves!"
Ragnariel's piercing gaze turned to Sir Garran. "Sir Garran, what is the punishment for a knight who disrespects their lord?"
Without hesitation, Sir Garran answered, "Death on the spot, young master."
Ragnariel nodded, his expression cold. "Then do what you deem appropriate, Sir Garran. A knight as loyal as you surely knows what must be done."
Bowing deeply, Sir Garran replied, "As you command, young master."
Ragnariel stepped down from the arena, his aura calm yet unwavering. As he passed Dheo, he said, "If you want to grow stronger, meet me here every morning for training."
Without waiting for a response, Ragnariel walked away from the training ground, leaving behind a mixture of stunned silence and seething determination among the knights.
Sir Garran's commanding voice boomed across the training ground, snapping the knights out of their stupor. "Back to your training, you lazy fools!" he barked. The scattered knights immediately broke away and resumed their drills, though many still cast wary glances toward the young master as they dispersed.
As the grounds returned to their usual rhythm, Sir Garran approached Dheo. "So," he began, his tone calm but curious, "what did you feel when you fought the young master?"
Dheo frowned, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Hmm... I felt an overwhelming pressure. It was... suffocating, like my mind was struggling to stay clear under it."
"Pressure, huh?" Sir Garran echoed, his brow furrowed in thought.
Dheo nodded. "Yes. I've felt something like it before, back when I sparing with you. But the pressure from the young master… it was more intense. Far more."
Sir Garran's expression grew serious. "Are you saying he could defeat me in a duel?"
Dheo turned to look at him, his gaze unwavering. "Not yet. But in five years… no, maybe just one or two years, he'll be able to surpass you."
Intrigued, Sir Garran pressed further. "And what makes you so certain of that?"
Dheo's eyes hardened as he replied, "If you duel the young master, you'll feel it for yourself. His words to Duke Kaelthorn weren't just the wild dreams of a child. I'm sure of it now."
Sir Garran fell silent, his mind churning. Finally, he nodded with a small smile. "I see. In that case, I'd better start training even harder."
Unbeknownst to them, Ragnariel had been quietly observing from a distance. A faint, knowing smile tugged at his lips as he thought to himself, "They're mistaken. The truth is, I could take down every knight here on my own right now. But what's the point of that? I need to build my own army to be able to conquer this world."
***
Back to the present.
Ragnariel replied, "Yes, Father. Is there something you'd like to ask about that?"
Valerius leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "So, how strong are you now, son?"
Ragnariel paused, deliberating. "Should I be honest or hold back my strength? Hmm, better to be honest. They wouldn't believe me anyway." He then answered, his tone steady, "For now, I can handle our entire force on my own."
The room fell silent as shocked expressions spread across everyone's faces.
"Are you serious about that?" Valerius asked, his voice heavy with skepticism.
With unshaken confidence, Ragnariel nodded. "Of course, Father."
The head steward of the Caeltheris family, Eldrin, stepped forward cautiously. "Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, Young Master, but if I were to ask you to duel Sir Garran, do you believe you could win?"
Ragnariel met Eldrin's gaze and answered with certainty, "It may sound ridiculous to you, but I could defeat Sir Garran in two years, if nothing hinders my growth."
Though honestly, Ragnariel thought, "I should hold back a bit. Judging from everyone's faces, they're already wondering how I've grown this strong at just five years old."
Valerius suddenly burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the room. "Haha, incredible, son! How did you become so strong?"
Ragnariel's expression turned serious as he asked, "Father, do you believe everyone here can be trusted? Beyond you, Mother, Brother Lucien, Brother Kaelen, and Sister Serenya, are the others truly loyal?"
"I'll have to craft a convincing story," Ragnariel thought, watching his father's reaction carefully.
Valerius surveyed the room, his gaze settling on Sir Garran, Head butler Eldrin, and the head maid, Marianne. After a moment, he replied, "Rest assured, son. Everyone here is someone who stood beside me during my journey to the top of commoners can achieve. I trust them completely."
"Very well," Ragnariel said with a nod. "I'll tell you."
Ragnariel took a deep breath, his thoughts racing. "What should I say? Maybe it's better to show them first."
He then spoke up, "Before I explain, I'll show you my full strength. Is it alright if I damage the floor a little?"
Valerius nodded, a calm smile on his face. "It's fine, son."
Without hesitation, Ragnariel began gathering his energy into his right hand, a radiant blue light enveloping his fist. Gasps filled the room as the intense glow reflected in everyone's widened eyes.
Valerius turned to Sir Garran, disbelief evident in his voice. "Garran, you're seeing this too, aren't you?"
Sir Garran nodded, his expression stern yet amazed. "Yes, my lord. That's aura. The young master has already mastered aura manipulation at only five years old. It's just as he told to Duke Kaelthorn. If the world know this, he'll become a target for everyone."
Ragnariel smirked slightly. "Get ready. This might cause a bit of a tremor."