After patting my head for a while, His Majesty cast his eyes toward the magic sword at my waist.
"Is that the current Leviathan? I see, it really has shrunk."
Judging by the way His Majesty spoke, it seemed he had already caught wind of Leviathan shrinking.
In other words, there was someone in my mansion reporting information back to His Majesty.
I suppose that was only natural.
"Noah."
"Yes, Father?"
"Are you able to make it large again?"
"I wonder... Well, can you?"
Leviathan surely heard His Majesty's words, but it refused to answer until I asked it directly.
Thinking all the more that it acted like a loyal hound, I relayed its response straight to His Majesty.
"It seems I can."
"Show me."
"Yes, Sire."
I drew Leviathan and drove the tip into the ground.
Placing my hand on the pommel, I willed Leviathan to grow larger.
Then, Leviathan began to rapidly elongate.
From a length suitable for my six-year-old frame, it returned to the size easily wielded by an adult, exactly as it was when I first found it.
"Ohh..."
Seeing the transformation unfold before his very eyes, His Majesty marveled in awe.
"I see, it is truly unprecedented. What is more..."
"?"
"You have completely tamed it—that Magic Sword Leviathan. Considering the cursed history that has followed in its wake, I cannot help but be astounded."
A cursed history, huh.
Well, I was all too familiar with this guy's mad-dog tendencies.
Back at the banquet hosted by Third Prime Minister Reidouk, if I hadn't stepped in to stop it, it would have butchered that loose-lipped noble—no, if things had gone south, it might have slaughtered every last person present.
Without someone around to keep Leviathan on a leash, it was easy to see how one "cursed history" after another would be forged.
"That will suffice."
"Yes, Sire."
Nodding, I adjusted Leviathan back to my custom size and returned it to the scabbard at my waist.
"It suits your appearance, too. Ah, that reminds me—I must appoint a master for you, Noah."
"A master?"
"A master of swordsmanship. It would serve you well to acquire the skill to properly wield a magic sword. Cruz."
When His Majesty called out, his trusted eunuch appeared soundlessly from wherever he had been waiting.
"Did you summon me, Your Majesty?"
"Bring Noble here at once."
"By your will."
Having received the order, Cruz departed immediately.
I waited in the garden, passing the time in idle conversation with His Majesty.
About twenty minutes later, a middle-aged man clad in knight's armor arrived.
The man dropped to one knee before my father.
"Damian Noble, reporting as commanded."
"Umu, well arrived. There is a task I wish for you to undertake."
"Command me as you will."
"You know of Noah. I want you to instruct him in the sword."
"Understood. I shall devote my humble abilities to the task."
With the order received, Damian rose and turned to face me.
While he had dropped to one knee for His Majesty, he gave me only a slight, perfunctory bow.
"I am Damian Noble, appointed as Your Highness's sword instructor. I ask for your favor henceforth."
"Noble possesses the finest skill in the Empire—a master swordsman lauded as having no equal with the blade."
"I am deeply honored."
So said Damian, bowing his head slightly once more.
He wore a sullen scowl that made it impossible to tell whether he was pleased or annoyed.
Perhaps it was merely his usual demeanor, as His Majesty paid it no mind.
"Strive diligently under Noble."
"Yes, Father."
"Without further ado, Your Highness. First, allow me to ascertain your aptitude."
Damian drew the sword at his hip and leveled the tip directly at me.
At this, even His Majesty seemed taken aback.
"He is a child who has yet to be taught the basics, you know."
"Rest assured, Your Majesty. I intend only to gauge his raw talent, not his refined technique."
"Hm."
His Majesty was easily persuaded.
I wondered if it was really wise to accept that so readily, but perhaps it spoke to the sheer trust placed in "the finest in the Empire."
"Come at me from any angle you wish."
"Understood."
I drew Leviathan and launched an attack at Damian.
I brought down a clean overhead strike, and Damian raised his blade horizontally to parry the blow.
Clang!
Immediately following the crisp metallic ring...
"...Eh?"
Damian's eyes went wide with shock.
The sword he had been holding just a heartbeat ago went sailing off in a wild trajectory, spinning end over end before plunging into the turf far away.
The moment my casually swung strike made contact with Damian's blade, it coiled around the steel and snapped upward in a sharp twist.
It was an entrapment so tight the blades seemed glued together; unable to withstand a force that threatened to wrench his wrist in a direction it was never built to bend, Damian had no choice but to let go.
Swept up by that sheer rotational momentum, the weapon had been flung away into the distance—that was what had happened.
Damian stared at me in a daze, glanced back at his sword impaled in the distant ground, and looked up at the sky.
Finally, he turned back to His Majesty and dropped to one knee.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. There is nothing I can teach His Highness."
"What is the meaning of this? Explain it so that I might understand."
"His Highness's strength, his speed—all of those belong to a child. Yet his sword technique has already attained the realm of a master."
"The realm of a master?"
"Just now, he disarmed me through pure technique alone."
"..."
"It would be utter presumption for me to instruct him. It is my complete and total defeat."
"...Oh."
Even His Majesty was left struck dumb for a moment—no, for a good ten seconds—unable to fully digest what had just occurred. But once he returned to his senses, his face beamed with even greater delight than before.
"Is that so? Is that truly the case?!"
"It is, Sire!"
"I see, ahahaha! Well done, Noah! Magnificent, Noah!"
"Indeed. He is truly worthy of being Your Majesty's flesh and blood."
"Ahahahahaha!"
Looking overwhelmingly pleased, His Majesty threw his head back and let out a booming laugh.
"Splendid, absolutely splendid! Ah, that reminds me!"
His Majesty clapped his hands together as though struck by sudden inspiration.
"For this year's Knight Selection, I shall have Noah serve as the chief examiner."
"I believe there could be no candidate more suitable."
Damian readily voiced his agreement.
The Knight Selection—it was an annual grand event within the Empire.
Nowadays, whenever anyone spoke of an empire on this continent, they meant our realm, and no one called it by that name anymore. But originally, its formal name was the "Miles Empire."
Miles was an ancient word meaning "warrior"—in other words, the Miles Empire meant the "Warrior Nation."
By longstanding tradition, the Empire heavily prioritized military figures; martial prowess was widely considered the sole path to rising in the world.
And what decided that rise was the annual Knight Selection.
Combatants who fought their way through regional trials across the Empire gathered in the Imperial Capital to engage in mortal combat. Those who emerged victorious were granted the title of knight, instantly catapulting them into the ranks of the high nobility.
And he was telling me to act as the chief examiner for that very event.
I paused to consider it.
This worked out remarkably well in my favor.
The reason was simple: the first duty of any knight who fought their way to victory was to become a direct subordinate to that year's chief examiner.
I glanced toward the corner of my field of view, checking the status screen I usually paid little attention to.
――――――――――――
Name: Noah Ararat
Ararat Empire Thirteenth Imperial Prince
Gender: Male
Level: 1 / ∞
HP: F Fire: F
MP: F Water: E + SS
Strength: F + F Wind: F
Stamina: F + F Earth: F
Intelligence: F Light: F
Spirit: F Dark: F
Speed: F
Dexterity: F + F
Luck: F + F
――――――――――――
For some reason, I possessed a "+" modifier attached to my abilities that no other person had.
Those additional values scaled up depending on the strength of my subordinates and the people living in my fief.
In short, the stronger my subordinates were, the stronger I became.
Serving as the chief examiner for the Knight Selection was an order beyond my wildest dreams.
I stepped forward and dropped to one knee before His Majesty.
"By your will, Father. I shall carry out the duties of examiner to perfection."
"Umu. In that case, let us settle one detail right away. What manner of selection process will you employ, Noah?"
His Majesty's question touched upon another privilege granted to the examiner.
Since the last person standing would become that examiner's subordinate, they possessed the right to dictate how the trials were run.
For instance, a round-robin league versus a single-elimination tournament would yield entirely different types of finalists.
I gave it some thought.
It was simple, really: I just wanted whoever was truly the strongest.
"I have only one condition."
"Umu, speak it."
"I want all the regional preliminaries across the Empire to be held here in the Imperial Capital, right before my eyes."
"What? And why is that?"
"I have no wish to overlook true talent. I want to see everything with my own eyes before deciding."
The Empire was vast. With an event of this scale, one couldn't maintain full oversight over local preliminaries out in the provinces.
If a fighter truly worthy of becoming my subordinate were out there, it would be an absolute tragedy if they were eliminated over some petty irregularity or regional bias.
That was why I needed to witness every bout myself.
"Ohh... Ooooh!"
"Your Majesty?"
"His Majesty is..."
As His Majesty looked up toward the heavens with an expression of pure, rapturous awe, Damian stepped in to explain:
"He is deeply moved by your magnificent insight."