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Liberto caught Leo’s strike.
Even in the midst of his confusion, he had managed to block the blow with a reflexive movement born of years of high-level skill and experience.
However, the sheer momentum forced him back a step.
Enhanced by the power of an emblem, Leo’s strength was now equal to that of an adult like Liberto. Whether the bearer was a man or a child, the physical enhancement provided by an emblem was uniform.
Therefore, when two emblem-bearers—two knights—clashed, the only things that separated them were skill and...
"Why do you have a sword?!"
"To defeat you and protect everyone!"
Leo’s surprise attack, launched from an unexpected angle, worked in the boy's favor. Liberto’s reactions lagged as he struggled to process the impossible situation unfolding before him.
His own thoughts were sabotaging him. Why does this boy have an emblem? Why does he have a sword? These questions flooded his mind, making it impossible to focus entirely on the enemy in front of him.
But Leo gave him no room to think, pressing his advantage with a relentless barrage.
"Gugh!"
"Haaa!"
Spinning his small frame, Leo unleashed a flurry of high-speed slashes. The movements were almost acrobatic, like a street performance, yet every strike was refined and aimed for the throat. Unable to parry them all, Liberto began to accumulate shallow wounds.
The surrounding knights finally shook off their stupor and drew their blades. Even then, Leo didn't slow down.
(Cut... I have to cut him!)
He pursued Liberto relentlessly, refusing to give him a moment’s respite.
(It has to be now. I have the advantage of surprise. If I don't finish this superior opponent right here, everyone dies!)
Leo felt a strange sense of omnipotence, as if he could do anything in this moment. Yet, a part of him remained detached, observing the situation with chillingly cold eyes.
He had to assume his opponent still possessed a level of skill that surpassed his current rush of power. Furthermore, there were multiple knights nearby. Time was running out. If they surrounded him, it was over.
He planned for the worst and calculated the only path to victory.
He knew nothing about emblems or how to use them. He could only assume Liberto felt the same surge of power coursing through his body. If that were the case, there was only one thing to do.
He would defeat this enemy with everything he had. He could worry about the rest later.
He would strike. He would win. Nothing else mattered.
(Don’t breathe. Don’t let up for even a second... Put everything into this one... take him down!)
"I’m ending this!"
"...Gugh!"
Despite knowing better, Liberto’s mind continued to race even as their swords clashed.
Was that woman—the boy's mother—a Master? No, impossible. Her power was far too weak for that. She was definitely a Vassal. Then was this child granted an emblem from the start? No, that can't be right either. That would mean their entire struggle until now was an act.
A performance at the risk of their lives? One mistake and they would have been dead. There was no reason for it. It was unthinkable.
His mind whirled through every possibility, eventually arriving at the only logical conclusion. It was an impossible answer—an answer that should not exist. And yet, it was the only one that fit.
"It can't be... It’s impossible!"
He tried to deny it, yet the truth remained.
There was only one way in this world for a person to obtain an emblem by their own hand. It was a single, legendary method—a phenomenon so rare it was treated as a myth or a tall tale.
And that was...
"Are you telling me a mere brat like you is a King?!"
The King’s Awakening.
The Original Emblem—the Regalia Emblem. It was a power held only by the Kings who ruled the world and the Five Great Nations. Legend said the first of these emblems was born from the void when someone chose to defy fate, transforming the world into one of swords and emblems.
If Leo had truly awakened by defying fate just as those ancient Kings had, it meant a Sixth Nova had appeared in the Thousand-Year War—the eternal conflict started by those Kings that still raged to this day.
Liberto could hardly believe his eyes. He was witnessing a historical event, a fact that would be carved into the annals of time.
His thoughts were in a state of total chaos.
And yet, the swordfight only grew more intense.
He struck back, but his blow was evaded. He tried again, only to hit air. Even though Liberto was managing to counter, Leo dodged every attempt.
Despite his shock and the fact that the emblem had closed the gap in physical strength, Liberto couldn't fathom how an eight-year-old was dodging his well-trained strikes. Leo was taking massive risks to evade blows that he should have been forced to block.
If Liberto could just force the boy to block once, he could regain his footing and kill him with the help of his men. But that one opening...
"Why can't I hit you?!"
...felt infinitely far away.
A deep gash opened on Liberto’s arm. Intense pain flared as blood sprayed from the wound. Paradoxically, that sharp agony restored his composure. He stopped panicking and began to analyze the boy.
(Technique, swordsmanship, emblem usage, combat experience... I surpass him in all of them. Everything. In every category, I am the stronger warrior.)
Even in this crisis, Liberto proved why he was a battle-hardened knight of great experience. He analyzed the situation calmly, factoring in the environmental variables, and reached a conclusion.
(His reaction speed. He is overwhelming me with that single factor alone.)
He had to accept the reality of Leo’s strength. The boy possessed an impossible reaction speed—a fierce, relentless onslaught driven by what seemed like pure spinal reflex. He was pursuing Liberto with a speed that bypassed the very process of thought.
Even in the midst of his confusion, Liberto had managed to block the initial blows with reflexive movements born of years of high-level skill and experience.
However, the sheer momentum forced him back a step.
Enhanced by the power of an emblem, Leo’s strength was now equal to that of an adult like Liberto. Whether the bearer was a man or a child, the physical enhancement provided by an emblem was uniform.
Therefore, when two emblem-bearers—two knights—clashed, the only thing that separated them was skill.
(He has natural talent. But he is still... green. If I strike now... while he's still... before he can truly fledge...)
Though he shuddered at the depth of Leo’s potential, he saw its limits. The boy’s swordsmanship was still fundamental, and his handling of the emblem’s power—his Sword Aura—was amateurish.
It was only natural. Even if a person awakened to an emblem, the body couldn't immediately keep up with the power. Moreover, Liberto’s men were closing in. He could see the desperation in Leo's eyes.
Under normal circumstances, it was insane for an eight-year-old to even stand his ground. Noting Leo’s frantic expression, Liberto wiped away a bead of cold sweat and grinned.
Liberto intentionally left an opening.
He knew that with Leo’s reflexive speed, the boy would bite. In a way, it was an admission of Leo's strength—Liberto believed this little monster was sharp enough to notice such a subtle vulnerability.
Sure enough, Leo pulled his sword back for a massive, heavy swing.
Liberto silently praised him. Well done. He moved in to deliver the killing counter.
He had won. He had won the battle of wits.
"I'll give you credit! Three more years... no, even one more year, and I might have been the one to fall!"
He abandoned the feint, saw his certain path to victory, and swung.
Leo's big swing was slow. Liberto's own strike would undoubtedly be faster. He was sure of it. He was certain.
He had miscalculated only one thing.
"No... I'll win right now."
Leo’s growth rate was far beyond anything Liberto could have predicted.
The boy took a single step back. Calmly.
"...What?" Liberto gasped.
Leo had realized he couldn't defeat this opponent by brute force alone. So, he had used Liberto's own tactic against him—feinting an opening born of desperation to lure the commander into a trap.
Liberto had assumed an eight-year-old couldn't possibly make such a cold, logical decision in a life-or-death struggle.
That assumption was his undoing.
In the end, reaction speed was simply the speed of thought. Even in the fractions of a second between sword strokes, Leo’s mind was constructing logic and processing data at a dizzying pace.
He had seen Liberto’s grin, recognized the intentional opening, and predicted exactly what would happen if he committed to a heavy swing.
Gauging the distance perfectly, Leo retreated with the smallest possible movement. Liberto’s blade missed, merely grazing the boy's cheek. It was fine. This was the shortest possible distance.
A shallow cut opened on Leo's cheek, and red blood trickled down as a sharp pain flared.
Yet he kept his sword raised. Without so much as a blink, he stared straight ahead.
Liberto’s sword hit nothing but air. He found himself mesmerized by the boy's silhouette. He felt a sense of genuine awe.
How many people in this world could engage in such high-level psychological warfare while their lives were on the line? How many could maintain such absolute focus that they didn't even flinch when their face was cut, never once taking their eyes off the enemy?
It was his first battle. He was only eight. There were a hundred reasons why this shouldn't be happening.
Yet, perhaps that was why this outcome was inevitable. Perhaps his awakening as a King was just as inevitable.
As a fellow knight, Liberto accepted the result with pure sincerity.
"............Magnificent."
He offered his praise to the small knight.
Then, Leo’s sword tore through him.
It was all over in a matter of seconds.
As Liberto died, the swords and emblems of the surrounding knights flickered and vanished. With the death of their Master—the Knight Commander—every Vassal Emblem tied to him was extinguished.
The stunned knights fell to their knees in disbelief.
Leo stood alone in the clearing, steadying his breath. He gripped his sword and finally looked up.
He was still small. And yet, there was no mistaking it: his silhouette was that of a knight.
In a nameless village, on this day, a new King was born to intervene in the thousand-year war—the Sixth Nova.
The era was about to enter a state of violent upheaval.
After all, everything had only just begun.
Afterword:
And so begins the heroic saga of swords and emblems.
I’m planning to have Leo rise through the ranks while dealing with some heavy wartime themes.
I’m drawing a lot of inspiration from series like Code Geass and Kingdom, while throwing in all the things I personally love. If you enjoyed this, I’d appreciate your support with a rating or a follow! I’m determined to write this story to the very end, so please consider following the series on the work page!