Chapter 40

A silver line flows amidst the torrent of snowflakes, as white as a downpour. It was a procession of armored knights.

"Is the prince alright?"

A middle-aged knight, as massive as a bear, looked down at the boy walking beside him.

"I'm still fine. However, the squires seem to be struggling more than expected due to the heavy snow."

The boy, called the prince, turned around. Unlike the prince's calm expression, the squires were visibly exhausted.

"Is it still far to Sieghart?"

"It seems we are almost there, given how the blizzard is intensifying."

"If we're almost there, does that mean the knights of Sieghart endure such snow every day?"

"No, that's not the case."

The middle-aged knight shook his head with a faint smile.

"The weather gets worse as we approach Sieghart, but..."

As he spoke, the snowfall suddenly stopped, and the sun, hidden behind gray clouds, revealed itself.

"The weather inside Sieghart is incredibly clear. Of course, the temperature drops even further."

"Huh..."

The prince exhaled and looked up at the sky. The sky was so clear that it seemed the snowstorm had been a dream.

"Wow!"

"The snow stopped all at once."

Others also gaped in surprise.

"Lord Tarthan, what about this weather..."

"It seems magical, but it's not. This peculiar natural environment is why Sieghart is called a natural fortress."

Lord Tarthan, the middle-aged knight, pointed to the massive wall visible ahead with a smile.

"Of course, even such a Sieghart has been breached before."

"Hmm..."

The prince nodded calmly, knowing when it had happened.

"They are waiting for us on the other side, so let's go in first."

Lord Tarthan pointed to the people standing below the walls of Sieghart.

"Alright."

The prince nodded briefly and headed towards the iron gate where the gatekeepers of Sieghart stood. The knights, dressed in red coats, watched them with sharp eyes from the massive iron gate, large enough for giants to pass through.

* * *

Laon stopped on his way back to the training ground after finishing lunch.

'What is it?'

He sensed many people coming from the main gate. The sound of armor clashing, something rarely heard in Sieghart.

Soon, Illion, the head of the outer hall, appeared, followed by knights in silver armor.

'Owen Kingdom...'

The left side of the silver armor bore the emblem of a lion's head, the symbol of the Owen Kingdom.

Other trainees and knights also stopped to watch the knights of the Owen Kingdom pass by.

"The envoy of the Owen Kingdom."

Dorian whistled softly as he approached from the side.

"Envoy?"

"They've been cleaning every corner of the house for days, saying the envoy of the Owen Kingdom would arrive. Didn't you know?"

"I didn't. But the envoy seems a bit small."

Laon narrowed his eyes, looking at the small children behind the knights.

"Oh, those are the squires who came with the third prince of the Owen Kingdom. They must have come to gain experience."

"You know a lot."

"Rumors have already spread. Everyone knows."

"That's true."

It seemed only he and the usually dazed Lunan were unaware.

Laon scanned the envoy of the kingdom.

'Quite strong.'

The strength of the squires, proving they were also Six Emperors, was comparable to the trainees in the Fifth Training Ground.

'But, whether they are strong or not, it doesn't matter to me... Hmm?'

As he turned to head to the training ground, his eyes met those of the squire at the front.

His eyes, blue like the sky, held a firm resolve.

'Not bad for his age.'

Just by making eye contact, he could tell this squire was the strongest among them.

'But...'

It was only a judgment based on his age. He was far from meeting Laon's standards.

As expected, the boy with the blue eyes, unable to read Laon's aura, looked at him for a moment and then turned away.

'I don't have time to worry about such things.'

He was busy improving his footwork and sword techniques. There was no need to clash with the kingdom's envoy. A brief glance was enough.

Laon walked to the training ground, thinking only about the flow of his footwork.

* * *

'What is this...'

Grier de Owen, the third prince of the Owen Kingdom, felt a chill run down his spine for the first time in his life.

He slowly lifted his head. The higher his eyes went, the tighter his breath became.

All of this was due to the man sitting above.

Glen Sieghart, the Northern Overlord and the continent's strongest swordsman. Just meeting his gaze made his limbs weak.

"You have done well to come."

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Thanks to Lord Tarthan's voice from the side, he managed to regain his composure.

"You could pass for the young king. I understand why he values you."

Glen Sieghart slowly nodded after looking at his face.

"Thank you."

His mouth was dry, and his words came out haltingly. Even without emitting a small aura, the presence was overwhelming, something he had never felt even when facing the kingdom's top swordsman.

"I have a letter from His Majesty."

The third prince pulled out a golden envelope from his robes and, with great effort, stood up despite his wobbly legs.

"Ah..."

He approached the dais, trembling, and handed the letter to Glen.

"Hmm."

Glen's eyes showed a brief glint of interest at the sight but quickly disappeared.

"I have arranged for you to observe the training of the trainees as you requested."

Glen slowly spoke as he placed the letter aside.

"I have prepared a banquet for this evening. Rest today and start your observations tomorrow."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Then we'll see each other later."

"Yes."

The third prince took three steps back, bowed, and then stood up.

"Lord Tarthan..."

"I have something to discuss with the head of the house. Please rest for now."

Lord Tarthan smiled faintly and closed his eyes.

"Understood."

The third prince nodded briefly and left the audience chamber.

"A talented child, indeed. Ascending the throne might be slower than becoming a swordsman."

After a moment of silence, Glen spoke first.

"Indeed, you see through it at a glance. The third prince is known as the next top swordsman of the kingdom."

"Indeed, a rare talent."

"Not just talent, but also a firm will. He has even traveled to the south to witness Robert's swordsmanship."

Lord Tarthan smiled, looking at the door the third prince had left through.

"Hmm."

Glen's lips curled slightly.

'Talent, effort, and will...'

Just by looking into the third prince's eyes, one could see his talent and the effort he had put in.

He must have gained a lot of experience and worked hard at a young age. However, Glen knew someone even more exceptional.

Laon Sieghart.

Knowing the effort and will Laon had shown, the third prince's greatness did not impress him much.

"You didn't come to boast about the prince, so let's get to the point."

The letter in Glen's hand burst into flames.

"You're burning it without even reading it."

Lord Tarthan's expression did not change despite the burning letter.

"That man wouldn't entrust an important letter to a mere child."

"Indeed."

Lord Tarthan, unlike when he was boasting about the third prince, knelt with a serious aura and bowed his head.

"I bring the words of King Leucross Albern de Owen II of the Owen Kingdom."

His eyes, filled with solemnity as he lifted his head, spoke volumes.

"The Five Evils (五魔) have begun to move."

* * *

Thud!

Laon's right foot moves forward smoothly, like a salmon cutting through water.

His left foot follows, and his lower body moves gracefully, like a deer navigating through the underbrush.

Not fast but smooth, not strong but elegant.

The 12 forms of the Garan Footwork he performs are as light and free as a leaf carried by the wind.

Thud!

Laon ends his Garan Footwork training with a powerful stomp that shakes the ground.

"Huff..."

He straightens his back and lifts his head, exhaling deeply.

'Still watching.'

Turning around, he saw the trainees who had been watching his footwork training quickly turn their heads away.

Since the first day of learning Garan Footwork, the trainees have been practicing by watching him, not the instructors.

This includes Barran, Lunan, and Martha.

"Hmm!"

"Hmph."

Barran and Martha turned their heads and snorted.

"Uh-huh."

Lunan, however, did not avert his eyes, as if to say, "What are you going to do about it?" Instead, he moved closer to watch the footwork, a request for Laon to teach him.

"Whatever."

Laon shook his head and pointed out the shortcomings in Lunan's footwork.

"Master, can you take a look at mine too?"

Dorian approached, gently scratching his belly, and demonstrated his footwork.

"First, your stance is too high. Lower it a bit..."

As he pointed out the issues, the training ground's door opened, and Rimer entered.

'What's this about?'

Laon frowned, watching Rimer's quick steps. It was the first time he had come during a break.

"Everyone knows the envoy from the Owen Kingdom arrived today, right?"

"I know."

Barran stepped forward and answered. He, too, was surprised by Rimer's unexpected visit, his eyes wide.

"They say there will be a banquet for the envoy this evening. Since there are squires, you can participate as well."

"Wow!"

"Banquet?"

The trainees' faces brightened at the thought of seeing the knights of the Owen Kingdom and possibly forming friendships with the squires.

"But!"

Rimer shook his head.

"You haven't even mastered the Garan Footwork properly. I'd be too embarrassed to go. You know!"

"Uh!"

"That's...!"

The trainees bit their lips, caught off guard by the unexpected comment.

"Really? You were planning to go? There's still a lot to practice, like swordsmanship and footwork."

He leaned in, teasing the trainees with a scrutinizing look.

"Damn!"

"Huff..."

The trainees, unable to find a response, hung their heads.

"Only one person can go here."

Rimer's gaze turned to Laon.

"What will you do?"

"I don't care."

Laon shook his head and picked up his practice sword. The Garan Footwork was nearly perfect, but harmonizing it with swordsmanship was still a long way off.

Now was not the time to build connections at a banquet but to focus on training.

"Good attitude."

Rimer smiled, a satisfied expression on his face.

"Well, if you really want to go, I'll let you. Who wants to go?"

He placed his hand on Laon's shoulder and scanned the trainees.

Even the strongest, Laon, had decided to stay and train. What about the rest of you?

"Hmph!"

"...No one."

Martha and Barran turned their heads and stepped back to continue training.

"..."

Lunan, from the beginning, had ignored Rimer's words and continued practicing his footwork.

"Then keep training. You'll have plenty of opportunities to attend banquets when you get stronger! I'll be going now."

Rimer waved his hand, teasing the trainees, and left the training ground.

"Hmm..."

Laon scratched his cheek, watching Rimer's back. Given Rimer's usual personality, it was strange that he had blocked them from attending the banquet.

'What's he up to?'

* * *

Instead of a fierce blizzard, brilliant lighting flooded the main hall of Sieghart, where the banquet was held.

Grier de Owen, the third prince of the Owen Kingdom, sat at his designated seat, savoring the moment.

'I'm tired.'

After hours of socializing with Sieghart's officials, his head was spinning. He longed to simply swing a sword.

His presence here, in a place and atmosphere he did not enjoy, was not solely due to the king's orders.

The sword of Sieghart.

And the knights who honed it.

"Huff."

The third prince downed the drink on the table and grimaced.

'They are indeed formidable warriors.'

The aura of the Sieghart knights was noble and intense, their strength on par with the knights of the Owen Kingdom, making his heart race.

'But...'

The strength of the young knights of Sieghart he had come to see was disappointing.

They would be considered outstanding talents in other houses or kingdoms, but they fell short of the standards of the Six Emperors.

'They don't even match the Robert family.'

The young knights of the Robert family, whom he had visited in the south before coming to Sieghart, seemed more exceptional.

"There's no need to visit them tomorrow."

Glen had arranged for him to observe the trainees' training, but there was no reason to go if this was the level.

"You seem disappointed."

"Ah!"

He turned quickly at the light voice from behind.

"An elf?"

An elf with red hair and emerald eyes stood with his hands behind his back, smiling.

"Would you like to see the real thing?"