Chapter 60

"A bet?"

Limer narrowed his eyes as he examined Metun from head to toe.

"What kind of bet are you suddenly proposing?"

"A bet to prove whether the 5th Training Ground is truly the strongest among the Sigurd trainees."

"Oh, so you want to go head-to-head?"

"As a Sigurd instructor, don't use such vulgar language."

"Head-to-head or a bet, it all means the same thing. Let's go with a straightforward approach."

Limer chuckled and swirled the empty beer glass in his mouth, while Metun's lips tightened like a statue.

Though they were both head instructors, their personalities were vastly different.

"Hey, are Limer and Metun going to fight?"

"They're not fighting, but they're making their disciples fight!"

"Then it's the 5th Training Ground versus the 6th Training Ground? This is huge!"

People in the tavern all stood up and gathered around Limer and Metun.

"I'll bet all my money on Metun!"

"Hey, it's Limer! There's Marta, Barran, and Lunan, and even Raon who beat all three of them!"

"Right. The 6th Training Ground has many branch disciples, but no direct ones. The 5th Training Ground is bound to win, right?"

"You guys are really out of the loop. Didn't you know that Cain entered the 6th Training Ground a while ago?"

The tavern patrons' attention focused on the mention of a direct disciple.

"Huh? Didn't he get injured on a mission?"

"That was over a year and six months ago. Come on."

"Oh, then it might be a fair fight? Cain is famous for his talent, especially his senses and the purity of his aura."

"It's not just fair; the 6th Training Ground has the advantage. Cain and his followers are already 16 years old."

"This is going to be interesting!"

"Let's go! Set up the bet right now!"

The tavern patrons started shouting the names of the 5th and 6th Training Grounds and pulling out their money as if the bet was already settled.

"Wow, if we don't do this, we'll be beaten to death, right?"

Limer chuckled, but his face was full of joy.

Metun stood with a heavy expression, as if he had expected this to happen.

"But what sudden wind blew you to want a head-to-head?"

"It's not a head-to-head…."

"Let's skip the small talk."

"Are you really asking out of curiosity?"

"Is it because of the Owen Kingdom?"

Limer stroked his chin and raised his beer glass.

"Right. The children's pride was hurt because the Owen Kingdom only requested a sparring match with the 5th Training Ground, even after seeing the 6th Training Ground."

"That's because they were slacking off in their training."

"You're right. I, the instructors, and the trainees didn't give our all. But things are different now."

Metun continued, looking into Limer's half-relaxed eyes.

"Since Cain Sigurd joined the 6th Training Ground five months ago, everything has changed. They've been training from dawn till night, and recently, they even passed the Hell Week training."

"Really? The Hell Week?"

Limer's mouth dropped open.

"Yep. Not a single one dropped out."

"That's impressive."

The Hell Week is known for its intense Sigurd training. Even regular knights drop out, so it was astonishing that all the trainees had made it through.

"Now, I think it's time to give those kids a sense of achievement."

"Are you making us the sacrificial lambs?"

"...."

Metun's silence was his answer.

"I like it."

Limer grinned and tapped the table.

"How about the format? One-on-one sparring?"

"No. We can't beat the 5th Training Ground in one-on-one sparring yet."

"Huh? Then how do you want to do it?"

"There are other ways to fight besides one-on-one."

"Ah!"

Limer grinned and tapped the table.

"Team battle?"

"Right. The 5th Training Ground has 43 members, and we'll prepare 43 as well. We'll fight in a randomly chosen location."

"Not a full-scale battle, but a localized one?"

He muttered, "It'll be fine," and reached for the gold coin Metun had placed on the table.

"But I have a proposal."

"Proposal?"

"The 6th Training Ground has more than twice as many members, right?"

"Yes."

"Then it's better to give more opportunities. Prepare 60 on your side."

"What?"

"Keep it at 43 on our side. Let's fight 60 against 43."

"Are you underestimating us?"

Metun's aura flared up like a torch, and the table trembled.

"Not underestimating, just stating the facts. Don't you agree that we lack strength and experience?"

"Hmm."

"Besides, we have more direct disciples, nobles, and upper branch members. Even if we fight with 60, no one can say anything to you."

Metun pondered for a moment and nodded.

"Alright. Let's do it that way."

"You choose the date and location."

"To me? What if I cheat…."

Metun's heavy gaze wavered for the first time.

"You're not the type to cheat on something like this."

The strength in Metun's hand on the gold coin faded, and Limer quickly snatched it away.

"But there's one thing you're mistaken about."

Metun turned his head, removing his hand from the gold coin.

"Mistaken?"

"Cain Sigurd, during the year and a half he couldn't move due to his injury, practiced aura cultivation and developed his senses every day."

"Huh?"

"His senses and aura quantity are on par with a formal knight."

He looked down at Limer with a confident gaze.

"Better to prepare well. You might be swept away by Cain alone. This is the bet's deposit."

Metun pushed a bag of gold coins from his pocket in front of Limer and left the tavern.

"Wow!"

"Can we watch too?"

"Set up the bet! I'll bet all my money on the 6th Training Ground!"

"I'm with the 5th Training Ground!"

"You guys don't have much to bet. I'll bet my house!"

The tavern erupted in chaos as the bet was settled.

"Hmm."

Limer tapped the bag of gold coins and smiled.

"Free money is always good, after all."

He seemed at ease, as if he knew everything.

"Should I go to the gambling den then?"

* * *

In the dim early morning, before the sun had even risen, Raon sat with his eyes closed in the annex courtyard, which was as dark as a curtain had been drawn over it. A thin, red mist rose from his shoulders.

As the sun rose, the red aura emanating from Raon's body gradually diminished and eventually disappeared completely.

At that moment, Raon opened his eyes.

Flash.

His red eyes burned with intense heat, like the rising sun.

"Hmm…."

As Raon expelled the remaining impurities from his body through his breath, his eyes returned to their usual state.

'Time really flies.'

He stood up, watching the rising sun.

It had been three days since his first mission.

Thanks to the three days of training, his body and aura movements had started to synchronize a bit.

Clang!

After rotating his wrists and ankles, Raon drew his sword and performed the entire sequence of the flexible sword technique, using the Manhwa Gong method.

The aura followed closely behind his body, moving like a shadow. Though not perfect, it was a significant improvement from three days ago.

'For now, this level of synchronization is good enough.'

It's a lifelong practice.

Perfectly synchronizing the flow of aura and body isn't something that can be achieved in a few days.

Ultimately, he needs to achieve the unity of sword and spirit, so he must continue to train consistently.

After performing the entire sequence of the basic Sigurd sword technique, Raon sheathed his sword.

Looking up, he saw the sun had risen quite high.

'I'm a bit late.'

The early morning personal training was almost over. He needed to get to the training ground before the morning regular training started.

Raon changed out of his sweaty clothes and ran to the 5th Training Ground. As he was about to open the door, he heard the voices of the trainees inside.

"What's wrong with that guy? He's not here?"

"He finished the mission alone, so he probably feels like training in the morning."

"Tsk, anyone could have done that."

"Exactly. Even an aura user, a bandit, how strong could he be? He just got lucky."

Just by the voices, he could tell they were branch trainees, the ones who couldn't adapt to the changed Barran and had fallen behind.

'Pathetic.'

Raon clicked his tongue. There was no need to pay attention to the words of such losers. They would avoid his gaze and run away the moment he entered.

'But the training ground feels a bit cold.'

Feeling the unusual temperature as he was about to enter, he heard a familiar voice from inside.

"Pathetic."

It was Barran's voice. His elegant footsteps stopped in front of the trainees.

"Anyone could have done it? Did you find the bandits' trail back then? Or did you rescue the children from the bandits? Or at least cut off a bandit's head?"

"W-well, that's…."

"Barran-sama, we were just joking…."

The trainees fumbled for words, unable to find a proper response.

"Jealousy is a feeling anyone can have. But the moment you voice it, you hit rock bottom. I speak from experience. Pull yourselves together."

Smack!

As Barran finished speaking, someone jumped down from a tree.

"If that guy wasn't here, I would have smashed your heads in."

It was Marta. Her voice, which sounded like she was grinding her teeth, came from beside the trainees.

"Understand your place. If you had met the bandit leader, you would have either been killed or dragged away like dogs by the watching instructors."

"M-Marta-sama…."

"What did you do when you finished your mission and got a break? You probably thought, 'I need to rest after the mission,' and trained half-heartedly, or not at all."

"That's…."

"Hmm."

The trainees could only make clicking sounds in response to Marta's pointed words.

"The guy who finished the mission alone trained at the training ground while you were sleeping at home. Even on the day he returned."

"R-really?"

"If you don't believe me, ask him yourself."

Marta sneered, mocking the trainees.

"You know Raon's movements well. Did you stalk him?"

"What? This guy has a big mouth!"

In response to Barran's joke-like comment, Marta punched the wall.

"You're right. How could you know without seeing?"

"Maybe tying his mouth shut will make you understand."

Barran and Marta began to emit a fighting aura.

Huff.

Feeling an indescribable emotion, as if tapping his chest, Raon opened the door to the training ground.

The noisy and busy training ground fell silent. Barran and Marta, who had been about to grab each other's collars, turned their heads sharply.

"Raon."

As he watched the two, Lunan, whose eyes glinted silver, approached. Frost was rising from his shoulders.

'So it was him.'

The drop in temperature in the training ground was due to the intense cold Lunan was emitting.

"Seems like you're not showing off after completing the mission alone. You're even late for the morning training."

Marta, who had just been on his side, now began to mock him.

"I trained at home, so no need to worry."

Raon answered lightly and stood in the center of the training ground.

"The regular training will start soon. Everyone, line up."

The trainees gathered behind Raon with slightly reluctant expressions.

"Loosen up before the training starts."

As he told them to loosen up, a small smile appeared at the corner of Raon's mouth, almost imperceptible to anyone.

* * *

Two months had passed since completing his first mission.

The way people looked at Raon had changed slightly, but he paid no attention and focused solely on the harmony between the flexible sword technique and the Garambu step.

-How boring. Just repeating the already mastered sword technique and steps, don't you feel bored?

'Of course not.'

Raon chuckled.

'It's important training. I just have to endure it.'

Everyone knows the importance of basics, but most people give up on basic training and focus on advanced martial arts.

The reason is simple.

It's competition.

'I feel like I'm falling behind.'

When one side is using sword qi and creating sword winds while the other is just repeating ordinary sword techniques and steps, it's psychologically overwhelming and anxiety-inducing.

'And it's incredibly boring.'

Basic sword techniques and steps are simple and easy. Even a trainee with average talent can master the form in a week.

Repeating this for months or years is enjoyable for no one.

Raon was no exception. Continuously repeating basic sword techniques and steps was a difficult and painful task for him as well.

'But it has to be done.'

Diligently practicing the basics is like building a ladder on a cliff.

Those who climb with their hands and feet might get there first, but in the future, the one who built the ladder will climb the cliff higher and faster.

Raon was confident in his patience more than anyone else, so he always practiced the basics of sword techniques and steps, and the Fire Ring method, regardless of what others said.

"Wow, isn't he bored at all?"

"How can he just repeat the flexible sword technique?"

"He's crazy. Crazy…."

"I can't live like that. I can't."

The trainees watched Raon, who was repeating the basic sword techniques, with amazement. It was pure admiration, not mockery.

"Exactly. How can he just repeat that? Maybe his mind is half gone."

At the cheerful voice, the trainees turned around.

"Whoa!"

"Instructor!"

"What brings you here so early?"

"Hello."

Head Instructor Limer smiled and waved his hand.

"Although the basics are boring, that guy will go far. I've never seen a swordsman who constantly polished their basics fail to rise to the top."

He said this and climbed up to the podium.

"Everyone, pay attention!"

Limer clapped his hands, gathering everyone's attention. The trainees stopped their individual training and ran to him.

"What's going on?"

Barran raised his hand. Limer's appearance during the early morning personal training was surprising, and he tilted his head.

"Ah, I should have mentioned this earlier, but I forgot."

"Huh? You forgot?"

"What did you forget?"

The trainees, thinking it was nothing serious, asked lightly. But the words that came out of his mouth far exceeded their expectations.

"We're going to have a match with the 6th Training Ground."

"A match? With the 6th Training Ground? You mean a sparring match?"

"More like a full-scale battle. You 43 will fight their 60 simultaneously."

"When?"

Barran's face hardened like tree bark, and the other trainees swallowed hard.

Limer grinned, enjoying their expressions.

"Tomorrow."