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He never spoke in such a cutesy manner. Although I had expected to encounter him eventually since seeing the family tree, I didn’t anticipate him making such a request right off the bat, which left me slightly flustered. Playing sword fights with a little kid might not seem like a big deal, but Mircel was practically a monster.

[Mircel Ben Tenest]

• Blessing

· Sword Saint, Reincarnation of the Demon Sword Akulas

“There is only one thing I cannot cut. Everything else can be sliced through.”

He can learn all swordsmanship except for those requiring a bloodline succession.

• Attributes

◇ Body of the Martial God ◇

◇ Lethal Trajectory ◇

◇ Perception Beyond Recognition ◇

Blessings are usually something you’re born with, so this little boy probably has all the ones I remember. In this situation, it felt like an ordinary adult facing the junior world boxing champion. If I didn’t end up as a punching bag, I’d consider myself lucky.

While I was lost in thought, staring at the wooden sword Mircel handed me, Donatan’s laughter echoed in my mind.

-Puhahahaha! Hersel! Are you scared of that little kid?

‘Your master is clearly a pseudo Sword Saint.’

-How dare you! If I were to fight that child, I could cut him down in a second!

‘I don’t expect that, but you could at least buy me some time.’

With my resolve firmed, I took the wooden sword Mircel offered.

“Alright. Let’s see if I can act like an older brother for a change.”

Mircel made a peculiar expression, probably not expecting me to accept so easily. Usually, I would have run away, but Donatan could be useful as long as I didn’t have to win. Moreover, this monster’s reputation within the mansion would help build the image I was aiming for. Despite being a future Sword Saint, he’s still a child now. Plus, with wooden swords, what could possibly go wrong?

However, Mircel’s words to Niasel were odd.

“Niasel, stay here.”

[Why? Can’t I follow?]

“Yeah. There might be a lot of blood.”

Was this a mistake?

So, we arrived at the training ground. Given the circumstances, I would have preferred a larger audience, but only a few soldiers training and some passing servants were present. Of course, once Mircel and I stepped onto the training ground, all eyes were on us.

Mircel and I faced each other on the training ground. Standing a good distance away, Mircel held his wooden sword with both hands, assuming a stance. I pondered how to make my stance look convincing before deciding to let my hand holding the wooden sword hang loosely.

“I’ll let you go first.”

I added a relaxed comment, but internally, I was jittery.

‘Are you ready, Donatan?’

-I always give my best, no matter who the opponent is, even if it’s a ten-year-old child.

Well, that’s not exactly reassuring, but let’s hope for the best this time.

“Here I come, brother.”

Tap!

Mircel stomped the ground fiercely. At that moment, his figure disappeared from my sight. As I tried to track his movements with my eyes, his wooden sword was already at my neck.

Thud!

The wooden swords collided with a dull sound right in front of my nose. Despite Donatan’s fluid movements, my wrist felt numb. But it wasn’t time to relax; Mircel’s sword was immediately aimed at my crown.

Swish!

I barely twisted my body to avoid it as Mircel’s wooden sword sliced through the air with a menacing whoosh. Mircel’s relentless assault continued. Luckily, Donatan dodged or deflected all the attacks by a hair’s breadth, but watching this close-up was a terrifying experience.

‘Ouch! Do it right, you fake Sword Saint!’

-It’s because of your rotten body!

‘Up! Up!’

Our silent cries echoed in my head.

***

Mircel was confused by a strange sense of unease.

‘What is this guy…?’

Neither his arms nor hands were particularly fast. There were gaps due to the speed difference, yet they were invisible. Every time he aimed, Hersel’s sword was already there to intercept it.

Thud!

It was as if he could foresee every move.

It was unbelievable. He had heard Hersel was an amateur with no knowledge of swordsmanship.

Frustrated, Mircel swung his sword with all his might again.

Thwack─!

Perhaps because it was an emotion-driven strike, it wasn’t read this time. Mircel’s attack finally hit Hersel. Hersel managed to block it with his wooden sword but couldn’t deflect it like before. Feeling the solid impact on his fingertips, Mircel grinned inwardly while watching Hersel’s reaction.

However, Hersel remained motionless. Instead, his expressionless face was so cold it sent chills down his spine.

While Mircel hesitated about whether to continue his attack, Hersel yawned widely.

Tap!

Mircel instinctively leaped back at the strange behavior.

“Yawn… This is boring.”

But it was just a yawn. Hersel held the wooden sword in one hand, covering his mouth as he yawned lazily.

Pop.

Mircel felt a vein pop on his forehead.

Trying to calm his boiling emotions, Mircel heard Hersel speak again.

“There’s no need to drag this out.”

Clunk—

Hersel’s wooden sword fell to the ground. He then raised a finger towards the bewildered Mircel.

“One hit. I’ll take your best shot head-on.”

Hersel stood defenseless, without any protective stance. His tall but slender frame looked frail without any armor. It was obvious that landing a significant blow on him would be fatal. But Mircel’s determination didn’t waver. In training duels, accidents were common. Even if it wasn’t during the festival, it could end as a tragic accident between brothers.

Mircel’s eyes gleamed with a different kind of resolve. Retrieving his wooden sword, he lowered his stance and spoke.

“Don’t regret it, brother.”

“Wait!”

“?”

“The weather is so nice, isn’t it?”

Hersel looked up at the sky, and Mircel followed suit. Indeed, it was a clear, sunny day without a cloud in the sky. But what did that have to do with anything?

“It’s too nice a day to waste on two men sweating over wooden swords. There could be more fun things to do.”

Hersel took a deep breath as if savoring the natural ambiance. It sounded like he was counting something.

Finally, Hersel refocused his gaze and said, “Alright. Come on now.”

Though puzzled by Hersel’s behavior, Mircel refocused. Whether it was for Niasel, to assist his mother, or any other excuse, the truth was, he realized he couldn’t win without a killer instinct.

Tap tap—

Mircel rushed towards Hersel. His speed increased with every step, transforming him into a streak of lightning shooting straight ahead. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance, and static electricity crackled from his hand, flowing through the wooden sword, uniting the weapon and his arm in one fluid motion.

The most powerful move Mircel could currently perform, “Thunder Draw,” was unleashed towards Hersel.

Ping!

A horizontal slash aimed at his neck. As the silver line drew near, Mircel saw it.

Eyes unshaken, devoid of any disturbance.

A chilling sensation ran through him, slightly halting his wrist. The strong warning signal spread through his body, and as the wooden sword’s surface touched Hersel’s downy hair, Mircel was certain.

He had to let go of the sword!

Bang.

The wooden sword didn’t just break but exploded, scattering in all directions. Mircel gasped for breath, struggling with the backlash of his aura.

“Huff… Huff…?”

Manipulating the aura that flowed through his arm had caused a strain on his veins. It was fortunate it ended there; if he had held on to the sword, his wrist would have broken along with it.

More pressing, however, was the consequence of revealing his intent to kill. Hersel must have noticed his intent to kill with that technique.

As Hersel approached the kneeling Mircel, he couldn’t move and closed his eyes tightly.

Tap.

He felt a light touch on his hair. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Hersel’s dark silhouette and gleaming blue eyes, exuding an overwhelmingly arrogant gaze.

“See? It’s not that fun, right?”

“…”

“If you want to play, I’ll always play with you. But let’s do something more age-appropriate.”

Mircel watched in a daze as Hersel walked away, without even wiping his sweat. His pride was severely wounded, but he eventually accepted the outcome. It also made sense why Hersel was still alive. There was no way the servants could kill such a monster.

As one question was resolved, another arose.

‘But, didn’t Deisel say he was a worthless worm? Was everything he showed just a facade? Why would he act like a scoundrel with such skill?’

If his intentions were ill, it could endanger not only Niasel but everyone. Even more so if he aimed to become the head of the family.

Mircel swallowed hard.

-If you want to play, I’ll always play with you. But with something age-appropriate.

Play? If there was such a gap between them, a different approach was necessary.

‘I need to find out what he’s planning.’

Mircel thought, deciding to observe and probe with an innocent guise.