Today had been gloomy since morning.
Ashen clouds. Weather that looked like it would pour rain any moment.
Knock knock—
"Young master. I've come to escort you."
An unfamiliar voice was heard from outside.
A knight with an unfamiliar face. Looking at his somewhat young face, he seemed to have just become a knight. Or maybe still an apprentice.
Silvan followed behind him toward the training ground.
Today's training ground was Training Ground No. 3, relatively close to the mansion. It was a place that didn't get much sunlight, so it was also a place Silvan liked.
"You look well today."
"..."
The knight tried to make conversation, but Silvan kept his mouth shut tight.
As he'd said, today his condition was quite good. The muscle pain wasn't severe and he liked the weather. Except for just one thing.
'...Liar.'
It was obvious who that referred to.
He could tell just by looking at the one currently guiding Silvan to the training ground. Originally, it should have been his tutor there, not some unknown knight.
But Ferda hadn't returned even when morning came.
Clench—
Silvan bit his lip.
With a thoroughly angry expression.
"We've arrived."
At those words, Silvan's shoulders flinched.
The thought of facing Casher and Burke made his body react reflexively. Feeling his palms getting moist with sweat, Silvan raised his head.
But an unexpected scene unfolded.
"Huh?"
Burke and Casher weren't there.
Shane, who subtly got under his skin, was also nowhere to be seen. That's when the young knight beside him explained the reason.
"I heard the Captain and the first young master went out on a hunt last night, so they're absent. The second young master said he had other business."
Count Arcdute's household regularly conducted monster hunts.
Come to think of it, he'd heard they did it around this time. As Silvan was nodding while recalling the forgotten memory.
"Has the young master arrived?"
A new voice was heard.
It was a young knight in his late twenties. Uniquely, he had dark purple hair, the exact same color as ripe grapes.
The knight who met Silvan's eyes smiled with his eyes and opened his mouth.
"You must have heard the details from Mond, but I'll be in charge of today's sword lessons. I'm Teran Rishiri."
Hearing his voice, he seemed to know who he was.
Right, he was Casher's knight. Now he remembered.
"Today we're going to warm up simply and focus on sparring lessons. If you're uncomfortable or feeling unwell, please let me know."
Silvan nodded silently.
Having received an answer, Teran smiled brightly.
"Everyone gather! We'll begin training!"
Those scattered around the training ground gathered together.
"Today's training is free sparring. Don't think you can slack off just because the Captain isn't here, or you'll be in big trouble."
"Yes!"
"Your voices are too quiet!"
"Yes! We understand!"
A resounding shout burst forth.
Watching that scene, he felt a strange sense of unease.
After a moment, Silvan realized what the source of unease was.
'They're all young.'
Most were in their early to mid-teens. Around the same age as Silvan.
That's when Teran answered with a smiling face.
"They're all pages. Still greenhorns."
Just like you.
Teran's smile seemed to say that.
Silvan bit his lip slightly. In the usual lessons Burke taught, only official knights participated. Not just pages, but even apprentice knights couldn't participate.
It was natural.
Because it was about teaching the Count's heir.
'But...'
Silvan was an exception.
He was of the Count's blood but wasn't the heir, and his sword skills were terrible.
So not a single official knight participated.
There was no penalty for not attending, and above all, there was no value in participating.
Silvan keenly felt his own situation.
"The third young master's opponent is this friend."
Teran's sudden voice broke his thoughts.
A familiar face. It was 'Mond,' who had guided him here.
"He's right on the verge of Beginner level, so it would be good not to let your guard down."
Beginner. The level where you can gather and handle mana.
Meanwhile, Silvan hadn't even stepped on the threshold of Beginner. His thrusting and slashing had just taken baby steps, so that said it all.
That's when Teran climbed onto the platform in front of the training ground.
"Before sparring, let's start with light running. The goal is twenty laps around the training ground! Anyone who falls behind will have special lessons later, so look forward to it."
The pages' faces turned pale.
"Start!"
At that moment, countless feet kicked off the ground.
Thud thud thud thud—
Training Ground No. 3 was quite spacious. Moreover, it even had hill courses, making it a place where you could easily fall behind if you failed to control your pace.
So the pages made a bet.
How many laps would Silvan Arcdute last before dropping out?
"Seven laps. Exactly seven laps and he'll be done."
"Come on, he'll at least do ten laps."
"Then I bet on eight laps!"
The sound of pages at the front giggling could be heard. Even knowing that Silvan was a half-elf, they still said such things. Silvan, running at the back, slightly crumpled his face.
As time passed.
Around the tenth lap, the page in the lead glanced back at the rear.
At the same time, the page's eyes widened.
"...What are you looking at?"
It was Silvan.
He who had been at the back had somehow caught up to the front.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"N-nothing at all!"
The flustered page mumbled his answer.
He wanted to argue more, but couldn't. He felt like he wouldn't be able to finish if he did. Silvan tried to regain his original breathing rhythm and focused on running again.
As a result, Silvan succeeded in finishing.
"Gasp! Gasp!"
It was the result of pouring out all his stamina.
Silvan lay on the ground breathing heavily. His legs were shaking and his chest was pounding like it would burst.
But strangely, he felt good.
This was the first time he'd completed a full run in sword lessons.
"What? How come he didn't drop out?"
"That's what I'm saying."
"Normally he should have dropped out long ago."
The sound of pages whispering.
Hearing this made him feel even more proud. Just then, one man's face suddenly came to mind.
'Ferda.'
More than half of today's completion was thanks to him.
He'd received lessons from him and his stamina had improved quickly. The lessons were very difficult and hard, but the effects were definite. Silvan acknowledged this too.
'It would have been good if he'd seen me run.'
This was the first time he'd completed twenty laps without resting once and without slowing down. Ferda should have seen this.
Silvan swallowed his disappointment.
Soon after, Silvan got up and headed for the shade.
Thanks to being given a 10-minute break for those who successfully completed the run.
"I'm thirsty..."
His mouth felt dry. He was thirsty.
He desperately wanted water. Looking at where the pages were, they were gulping down water they'd prepared beforehand. If he asked for water, they'd probably give it, but somehow he didn't want to do that.
Silvan was surprisingly stubborn.
"Sigh."
He let out a quiet sigh and leaned back against a tree.
As he looked at the gloomy sky.
"Good work."
"...!"
The voice he'd been waiting for was heard.
Silvan turned his head with a shocked expression. A man with navy blue hair tied back tightly, smiling.
It was Ferda.
"Here, I brought water."
Thud—
A soft leather pouch fell into Silvan's hands.
A cold aura. Just touching the pouch made the heat go away. But Silvan didn't drink the water. He stared up at Ferda and asked with a sulky expression.
"...Why are you so late?"
"Drink the water first."
"Don't change the subject."
"It'll be good to drink it while it's cold. Before the ice melts."
At the mention of ice, Silvan swallowed his saliva.
A day hot enough to be drenched in sweat. He well knew the pleasure of drinking cold water. So Silvan glared at Ferda once, then immediately drank the water.
Gulp gulp—
"Ahh!"
So cold his throat nearly froze.
Seeing Silvan's expression relax, Ferda opened his mouth.
"My business took longer than expected. That's why I was a bit late."
A common excuse anyone could make.
Silvan made a sulky expression again. Ferda chuckled and answered.
"But I came before lessons started as promised. I was sitting up there watching."
"Then..."
"You were running hard. You've improved a lot."
Brief praise.
It wasn't excessive or special, but that was enough. A faint smile bloomed on the lips of Silvan, who lowered his head.
Until he heard Ferda's next words.
"Now we can move to the next stage."
"...What?"
What did he just say?
When Silvan asked with surprised eyes, Ferda answered with a smile.
"Starting tomorrow, let's run while carrying stones."
"No, what kind of crazy talk..."
"You have to increase the intensity for stamina to improve."
When an absurd answer came back, Silvan looked blank.
After a moment, Silvan frowned and was about to argue back.
"Everyone gather!"
But at that moment!
"Prepare for sparring!"
Teran's voice was heard from afar.
Instead of arguing back, Silvan closed his mouth and sighed. If he'd known this would happen, he should have just dropped out midway through running. Regret washed over him, but it was already too late.
"Tsk, I'll be back."
The only fortunate thing was that the intensity would increase starting tomorrow.
Relieved by this, just as he was about to move.
"Silvan."
Ferda grabbed Silvan's wrist.
He looked straight into Silvan's eyes and continued.
"In combat, seizing the initiative is important."
What's this about out of nowhere?
Silvan looked at Ferda with those eyes.
"When the spar begins, glare at your opponent. As if you'll kill them."
"As if I'll kill them?"
"Yeah. Think of the person you hate most."
That would be simple.
This place was full of people he hated anyway. Burke who forcibly dragged him here, the Count who took no action, Shane who got under his skin like a snake, and so on.
But among them, there was one he definitely hated most.
"...Casher."
Grind—!
He clenched his teeth. Just saying that name out loud made anger surge up.
Of course, the emotion of fear also rose together.
Did he sense this? Ferda patted Silvan's shoulder.
"Glare with resentment and hatred. If someone faces killing intent for the first time, there will definitely be an opening. Thrust your sword through that gap. Then you win."
Win.
At those sweet words, Silvan bit his lips tightly. That's when a thick palm stroked Silvan's head.
"It's okay. You can do it."
The moment he heard Ferda's words.
His heart settled down strangely calmly.
Thinking back, it was the same then too.
The first day he took lessons.
Even when he felt like he couldn't run anymore, hearing his encouragement gave him strength.
It was strange.
But what mattered was that his trembling had now stopped.
"Got it. I'll give it a try."
Silvan nodded.
Ferda smiled and saw him off.
Leaving the shade, Silvan soon faced Mond.
After greeting each other, they grasped their swords.
And.
"Begin!"
The spar started.