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A few days later.
In the grand black fortress of Plentel Castle, within the family head Moden Bascon's mansion, a certain rumor began to spread.
It started right after Bin had presented the 6th class monster, the Erymanthian Boar, to the family head.
"What? Young Master Bin beat Young Master Billy and Lady Shirley in a fight?"
"Shh! Keep it down!"
Dason, the big-headed knight of the castle, reacted with exaggerated surprise. Raon, the tall knight beside him, pressed a finger to his lips.
Startled by his own loud voice, Dason glanced around. Fortunately, they were alone in front of the family head's room in the mansion—no one else in sight.
Confirming as much, Raon spoke again. "I don't know if it's true, but they say these days Young Master Billy and Lady Shirley hide like rats in holes whenever they see Young Master Bin."
Dason made a face like that was absurd. "Who'd spread such nonsense...? Hiding like rats? They're probably just messing around. A sickly kid who can't even use one arm properly... How could Young Master Bin possibly beat two of them?"
"The rumor says he can move his right arm pretty well now."
"Even if he can move his right arm, come on. Winning a 2-on-1 fight? That's not easy. No way."
Raon nodded at Dason's words. "Yeah... But what about that 6th class Erymanthian Boar Young Master Bin offered? They say it had traces of massive sword winds."
"You think he did that? A ten-year-old boy unleashing sword winds? Come on, that doesn't make sense."
Dason spoke with full confidence, and Raon tilted his head, stroking his chin before agreeing. "Yeah, probably not."
Raon couldn't imagine a ten-year-old wielding sword winds either—especially not Bin. Even in the prestigious Bascon family, he was far from talented. Among the family's 'seven siblings,' he ranked dead last.
Raon pondered for a moment before speaking. "Then how the hell did it happen...?"
"Unless Lady Danel sent someone to boost Young Master Bin's momentum as some kind of strategy."
Raon nodded in agreement. "Yeah... that makes sense. He could barely move one arm before."
"Rumors always get twisted. Just a few days ago, he was an 8th class knight—no way."
"Right..."
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps grew louder, cutting Raon off. Moments later, a figure approached.
A boy in a black uniform. Bin, with his calm hair and piercing eyes.
Bin was there on Family Head Moden's orders.
As Bin appeared, Dason and Raon bowed hastily in greeting. "Dason and Raon of the Bascon family. We greet Young Master Bin."
Despite their frantic courtesy, Bin simply stared at them in silence.
"...?"
The mansion's interior turned icy in an instant. Bin's cold, sharp gaze sealed their lips. It felt like he'd slice out their tongues for careless words.
In the tense quiet, Raon's eyes drifted unwittingly to Bin's sword. His pupils trembled.
He could tell at a glance it was no ordinary blade. The guard up to the hilt was intricately horned, and it looked exceedingly luxurious. Even the scabbard gleamed with polish...
Raon's eyes widened as realization hit. 'That's a lowest-grade weapon...?'
Lowest-grade weapon. The Bascon family classified weapons into five tiers: lowest, low, mid, high, superior.
Typically, one wielded a weapon matching their level. 8th-9th class knights used lowest-grade. 6th-7th class used low-grade. 4th-5th class used mid-grade. And so on.
Raon had assumed Bin was 8th class, so the discrepancy baffled him. 'That looks at least mid-grade... How can an 8th class knight like Young Master Bin...? There must be serious side effects.'
As Raon noted, even handing a higher-grade weapon to someone unskilled often backfired. Higher-grade weapons consumed vast mana.
Exceptions existed, of course—some wielded above their level. Weapons on the Gana Continent varied wildly.
'Where did he get that sword...?'
Raon grew entranced by the unfamiliar blade. Meanwhile, Dason eyed not the sword, but Bin, harboring one doubt. 'His breathing's steadier than before, sure. But taking down a 6th class Erymanthian Boar? No way. Just a false rumor, huh?'
Sensing Dason's skepticism, Bin drew his sword right there. 'If you're that doubtful...'
Shing—
The sleek blade emerged with a sharp ring. Dason and Raon jumped in shock.
"...!"
Whoever forged it, the edge was razor-sharp—skin would peel at a graze.
But more than the sword, Bin's suddenly steady breathing widened Dason's eyes. 'What the...? His breaths were rougher just a moment ago...'
As Dason observed, drawing the sword stabilized Bin's breathing further. A subtle, different aura emanated too.
'This aura from an 8th class knight...?'
With sword in hand, Bin no longer felt like an 8th class—he matched a 6th class. Thanks to the 'Bow Sword' forged from the Erymanthian Boar's bone.
Its 'Boar's Might' ability boosted Bin's internal mana by two full grades. His output strength surged dramatically too.
It wouldn't apply past a certain rank, but for now, it was invaluable to Bin.
Dason gaped, bewildered. 'How can a ten-year-old have this kind of power...?'
As doubts swirled in Dason and Raon, Bin smirked slyly. "What? Want it?"
"...N-no, Young Master."
Dason and Raon waved their hands frantically, denying it.
The Bascon family had a tradition: claiming another's sword meant defeating its owner—or proving yourself stronger.
'Did he overhear us?'
Unnerved by Bin's unusual demeanor, cold sweat beaded on their faces. Their breaths grew labored, choking.
Only then did Bin sheathe his sword, dropping the aggression. His point had landed.
"Carry on, then."
"...Yes, Young Master..."
Dason and Raon sighed in relief as Bin turned away.
Clack. Clack.
As Bin stepped toward the family head's room, they called out desperately. "W-wait, Young Master!"
"...?"
Bin paused and looked back. Dason continued. "The family head, Young Master Billy, and Lady Shirley are meeting inside right now."
Bin let out a chuckle. "Heh."
With rumors of his victory over Billy and Shirley reaching even here, he could imagine their faces before their father.
A strange feeling stirred in Bin. 'To think the day would come when I'd want to see those loathsome faces.'
* * *
In Family Head Moden's room, Billy and Shirley—arms bandaged and slung around their necks—faced the massive Moden.
Moden, with his lion-mane beard, propped his chin on one hand from his huge chair. He eyed the two kids like prey before a beast.
Before him stood the Bascon family's largest weapon, the greatsword 'Tombstone', plunged into the floor. This superior-grade masterpiece exceeded two meters, its weight alone sapping morale from most onlookers.
It was also why Billy and Shirley resented Bin more—they bullied him extra because he wielded the same sword as their father.
"...?"
After a brief silence, Moden spoke. "So you lost to Bin. Understood. Now get out."
Shirley asked in a trembling voice. "C-could we know why you're asking...?"
"None of your concern. Out."
"...?"
The father's firm demeanor. Before, he'd offer advice to nurture talented Bascon scions. But after their confession of defeat to Bin, had expectations for them vanished? Or was it because they couldn't wield weapons for a while?
Billy and Shirley felt coldly dismissed.
They ground their teeth. Losing to Bin was bad enough; falling from heir contention was unbearable. Father's expression treated them as irrelevant.
Unable to endure, Billy flushed red. "F-Father, we didn't lose on skill. We fell to the alien energy from Bin's right hand!"
Shirley chimed in. "Yes, Father. It was unlike any mana we've seen!"
Yet Moden's face remained unchanged. "I said once more: get out."
His indifferent gaze swept over them, boiling their blood. Losing status in the family hurt worse than defeat itself. With castle folk and now Father, it was pride at stake.
Billy seethed inwardly. 'All because of Bin. That one-armed cripple dares humiliate us. Someday, that arm...'
Inferiority toward Bin swelled in Billy. "Father, in pure martial skill, we wouldn't lose to that brat! He used some weird...!"
Shirley nodded. "Yes, we were just caught off guard...!"
Slap!
A sharp smack echoed. Billy flew into the wall. Shirley followed, hurled aside.
Moden had risen, tired of excuses. His roar threatened to crumble the room. "How dare sons of the Bascon family make excuses for losing a 2-on-1! Solitary confinement and fasting for you. Reflect on your failings!"
"...!"
Shrinking before their furious father, terror-stricken Billy and Shirley wept.
'F-Father...'
Soon after, they left the room. Moden calmed, stroking his chin. 'Alien energy... Magic? Or forbidden magi from a ten-year-old boy...?'
Pondering briefly, he bellowed toward the door. "Bring Bin Bascon at once!"