Ren strolled through the streets of the Imperial Capital, watching the leaves change color and drift down onto the cobblestones.
As before, he had traveled from Clausel to a neighboring territory before boarding a Magic Ship, completing a rather long journey to reach the capital. He was scheduled to meet with Marquis Ulysses’s house steward, Edgar, around midday.
Ren purchased a five-hundred-G ticket at a nearby station and waited for the Magic Train without checking the timetable. The train arrived shortly—a streamlined vessel adorned with interconnected pipes that evoked the image of a retro steam engine while maintaining a strangely futuristic aesthetic.
The ride took about twenty minutes.
"Don't say that. I am who I am today because I kept sparring with you, Ren."
As the train rattled along the tracks, Ren reflected on that night.
"You don't need to worry about me. I think I'll be busy for a while too, okay?"
As soon as Ren had decided to leave Clausel, Licia had resolved to take the entrance exam for the Imperial Military Academy. Since she was aiming for the Special Merit Class, she needed to focus entirely on her studies. The exams would begin the following spring. It wasn't that Licia hadn't been diligent before, but from here on, she couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect.
"...I have to work hard, too," Ren murmured.
Passing through the station's ticket gate, he looked out over a plaza dominated by a large fountain. Edgar stood waiting there.
"It has been quite some time," the old man greeted him.
Edgar had been in Clausel a year and a half ago during the incident with Viscount Given, but Ren had been in a coma at the time. Since Ulysses had been present during their recent encounter, they hadn't really had a chance to speak properly. For both of them, this was essentially their first meeting.
"I’ll be in your care for these next five days," Ren said.
"Please, leave everything to me. I have been looking forward to this day. Now, Master Ren, if you would follow me."
He led the way on foot, walking slowly through the quiet Government District.
(There are a lot of well-dressed people around here.)
Ren noted many officials and individuals who appeared to be high-ranking nobles, a sight never seen in rural Clausel.
Beyond a cluster of massive, distinctive buildings stood the Lion Holy Chancel. The edifice loomed over grounds vast enough to swallow Ren's entire village, its exterior a solemn, uniform black. In the Legend of the Seven Heroes, this was a location players could never enter.
(Technically, Strong Sword Arts were for enemies only.)
The Lion Holy Chancel wasn't a den of evil; it was simply an important facility dedicated to the Lion King.
"Master Ren, is something the matter?"
"I'm sorry. I was just overwhelmed."
"That is understandable. This is one of the most unique locations in Leomel. As an institution tied to the Lion King, even high-ranking nobles are barred from entry without express permission."
The only reason Ren had such permission was due to Ulysses’s political weight.
"Let us go inside."
The entrance had no doors, opening instead into an airy space where thick pillars stretched deep into the interior. The pillars and cobblestones were made of polished black stone, giving the hall an imposing presence. Guarding the area were knights clad in jet-black armor, distinct from the regular knights or town guards. They exuded a different level of authority and intimidation.
As the two stepped inside, the knights outside watched Ren's back with quiet interest.
"That boy... he was quite something," one remarked.
"Indeed," another agreed. "He has a core as solid as Orichalcum. I saw it clearly."
"Master Edgar brought him here personally. He must possess a rare talent."
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
"Is there a reason the knights here wear black armor?" Ren asked as they walked.
"It is the influence of the Lion King. He was a man who favored black above all else."
Ren also asked why the interior was so silent. Edgar explained that there was no specific rule—it was simply the natural, solemn atmosphere of the place.
"Why are there no heavy gates or guarded checkpoints?"
"Two reasons. First, there are numerous security Magic Tools deployed in hidden locations. Second, the knights who protect this place are all Strong Sword Users. Every knight here is at least a Sword Expert. They are a stronger defense than any gate."
"A-at least Sword Expert level!?"
"Yes. Furthermore, Strong Sword Arts are usually calculated as being one rank higher than styles like Holy Sword Arts. In effect, the knights here are equivalent to or greater than a Swordmaster in any other style."
Ren was stunned. In the hierarchy of swordsmanship, the Sword King sat at the apex, followed by Sword Saints, then Swordmasters, Sword Experts, High-ranking Swordsmen, and finally standard Swordsmen. This facility was clearly staffed by the best the Empire had to offer.
They reached the end of a long corridor and stopped before a massive stone door.
"There are other training grounds, but we have reserved this one for our exclusive use over the next few days," Edgar said.
"We? Just the two of us?"
"Indeed." Edgar gave a good-natured smile and pushed the door open.
It was a deep blue. The cobblestones and arched pillars were carved from a cerulean material that cast a soft white glow.
"Today, let us split our time between theory and practice."
Edgar removed his jacket, revealing a pure white shirt and suspenders. Without the coat, his lean, fit physique was apparent.
"I shall be the one instructing you in Strong Sword Arts, Master Ren."
Edgar carried several longswords at his waist. Ren realized then that Edgar was undoubtedly powerful. While he didn't quite have the overwhelming aura of a dragon like Asval, he possessed a terrifying intensity that surpassed any swordsman Ren had ever met. He was the man Ulysses trusted most; his age was clearly a non-factor.
Edgar handed Ren a book. "I believe that practice must always be accompanied by theory."
Ren, having been raised by the hands-on Roy and taught by the practical Weiss, had never studied the academic side of combat.
"As you know, Arts are techniques that allow those without magical skills to bridge the gap using mana. For example, Holy Sword Arts utilize Lightfall."
"I’ve experienced that one firsthand," Ren noted.
"Ah, the cultist in the mountains. Lightfall uses mana to weaken an opponent's magical defenses. However, in Strong Sword Arts, we do not consider that an Art. We believe that piercing such defenses should be a fundamental part of ordinary swordplay."
"H-huh...?"
"In our style, you are expected to damage magical defenses through pure skill. Piercing them is the basic standard."
Ren was bewildered. "How do I put that kind of power into a blade?"
"By refining the mana within your body until it is more delicate than muscle fiber. Cladding your entire body in that mana creates the 'Shroud.' It is the bedrock of our art. Without mastering the Shroud, you cannot learn our Arts."
Ren struggled to grasp the concept.
"The Shroud is not just for offense. Just as mana-infused metal is sturdy, the Shroud becomes invisible armor. It is a matter of consciousness. Here, take this."
Edgar produced a small, stylish bottle with a cork and a single crystal ball inside.
"Simply hold this in your palm. Use your daily training to place a scratch upon the crystal ball without opening the bottle or using traditional magic."
"That sounds like a magic trick..."
"It measures your mastery of mana manipulation. If you cannot scratch it, it means you lack the aptitude for this style."
Ren tried to focus his mana immediately, but the crystal remained unblemished.
"It is only natural that it takes time," Edgar reassured him. "In my youth, it took me quite a while just to produce a faint mark."
Ren tucked the bottle into his jacket.
"Now, for the demonstration."
Edgar picked up two longswords. Ren warmed up and asked one final question.
"Master Edgar... what is your rank in this style?"
"I am an old man now, and a steward by trade," Edgar said with a humble smile. "But once... I was a Sword Saint."
Ren’s eyes widened. He was being taught by a living legend.
"First, show me your swordplay, Master Ren."
Ren unleashed his strikes, utilizing the full power of his Physical Ability Up (Medium). However, he was quickly overwhelmed. Edgar caught every strike effortlessly.
"I shall face you with ordinary swordplay—the foundation of our style."
Edgar lunged. Ren almost lost sight of him. When their blades clashed, an unprecedented sensation surged through Ren's arms. It wasn't just physical force; an intense numbness raced from his hands to his chest and down to his feet. Every clash felt like his very strength was being siphoned away.
"Do not overextend yourself!" Edgar called out.
"I'm not done yet!"
"Such tenacity!"
The room shook with the sound of clashing metal. Ren felt like he was being stared down by a literal lion, his willpower withering under the pressure.
(Just once... block it properly, Ren!)
He let out a silent roar in his mind and braced himself.
"I didn't think you could—" Edgar cut himself off, his eyes widening as his own hands went numb from Ren's block. He caught a glimpse of an unfathomable aura emanating from the boy.
"Haha... I have to show a little stubbornness, or I'll lose face," Ren panted, dropping to one knee. His sweat-soaked face showed no trace of that mysterious power now, only exhaustion.
"There is a bath just outside. I shall show you once you've rested."
"No, I can walk," Ren insisted, standing up and pushing open the massive door himself.
Edgar watched him go. "My Lord, it seems Master Ren was not dragged onto this stage by accident," he whispered. "He appeared because he was meant to. That boy... he is a lion."
The three o'clock bells rang out, drowning out the steward's words.
On the final day of training, Edgar made a proposal. "I shall continue to instruct you whenever you are in the capital. When I am away, you are welcome to train with the knights here."
Edgar demonstrated one final Art: "Star Sunder." He called in a knight who unleashed a blade of wind—a powerful magic-like attack. Edgar cut through it with a single horizontal sweep, neutralizing the magic entirely.
"We do not merely offset magic; we cut it," Edgar explained. "Depending on mastery, we can weaken or even void it entirely. This is the power to strike down even the stars."
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Two days later, Edgar returned to the Ignat Manor in Eupeheim. Ulysses was waiting for him.
"How was Ren Ashton?"
Edgar thought for a moment, searching for the right words.
"I sensed a tenacity within him... a power like that of a lion."
Ulysses laughed. "A lion? Coming from a Strong Sword User, that is high praise indeed."
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
It had been a month since Ren had returned to Clausel. Licia met him at the town gates, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"How was the capital?"
"Master Edgar said I have talent. He's going to keep teaching me, so I'll be heading back there when the time is right."
"Really!?" Licia beamed, genuinely happy for him. She listened intently to his stories, her own ambitions stirring. "Ren... I have a favor to ask. I want to go hunting with you."
"Hunting? That's sudden."
"The final exam for the Special Merit Class involves monsters. I want to get used to it. I've already cleared it with Father."
Ren agreed, but suggested they avoid the East Forest. "The monsters there are too weak for you now. They won't provide any real tension. We should go toward Erendil. The monsters there are a better challenge."
"Erendil... you're right."
Ren realized the commute might be a problem. "Wait, traveling back and forth might take up too much study time."
"Don't worry about that. Father and I decided it would be best for me to move my base of operations to Erendil soon anyway."
"So you're moving to the city?"
"It makes sense for both of us. It's too much work for you to keep traveling back and forth from the village just to train."
Ren hesitated. "It's just... sending you off alone feels... well..."
Licia realized he was worried about her. She stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "What is it?"
"Nothing... just..."
"I know. Let's have some tea. You need to relax."
"I should really get to work in the Old Wing—"
"Licia Clausel grants you permission to rest," she said firmly.
Ren gave in with a smile. As they laughed together, he handed her the second training bottle Edgar had sent. Licia was fascinated by the challenge of scratching the crystal ball.
Later, a knock at the door interrupted them. Yuno the maid opened it, and a small, fluffy creature came flying in.
"Kyuuuuuu!"
It was a Spirit Beast—a Ratatosk. It looked like a cross between a kitten and a fox and was now about the size of an adult cat.
"I'm back, Kukuru," Ren said.
"She missed you terribly," Licia noted.
Kukuru had hatched from the Selakia's Azure Orb earlier that spring, fueled by the power of a dragon horn fragment. The Guild had identified her as an extremely rare Spirit Beast, likely a Special Individual. Despite being a legendary creature that could once hold its own against the Demon King, she was currently a pampered house pet.
"I think it’s about time Kukuru had a bath," Ren observed, noting her dusty fur.
"You're right. She hasn't had one since summer."
"Kyu... kyuu!?"
Kukuru tried to bolt, but Yuno blocked the door. Licia scooped her up. "No escaping, Kukuru. You're a girl, you need to be clean."
The legendary beast hung its head in defeat. Ren simply waved his hand with a pitiless smile, watching as his companion was carried away to her fate.