Chapter 2

I still don’t know how to evaluate Felis.

The vassals seem to view him as someone who is skillful but lacks the drive to excel, a spineless person.

I understand that this is because they don’t know the reality of my younger brother. Felis doesn’t show his accomplishments to others, and no matter what is said to him, he is only ever exasperated, never angry.

If he were an ordinary noble, he would take appropriate action when insulted by a commoner, but I don’t think he has ever done so. Perhaps he doesn’t see any value in getting angry over words.

In that sense, I can understand why he is called spineless.

However, he doesn’t treat others rudely, and he is someone who rewards those close to him. So why is Felis so often belittled?

The guards possess the strength that would not be a disgrace anywhere in the country. And Felis has the strength to participate in the training of such guards.

I also think it’s understandable that people would look down on Felis for not fulfilling his duties as a noble.

But why is Felis, as a warrior, looked down upon?

Because he doesn’t measure up to me or Jito?

Felis praises us as geniuses and calls himself talentless.

I don’t understand anything.

To me, he is not talentless but uniquely talented.

---

The day of the decisive battle has arrived.

To be honest, since the opponent is neither my sister nor my brother, nor the captain, it feels like a mere formality to me.

I would have preferred to avoid this, as neither Captain Glagas nor Captain Mitz will watch, but the others seem to believe I am weak, so it shouldn’t be a problem to handle them.

It’s been a long journey.

I should have acted to be exiled from home much earlier, but the family was unexpectedly kind, and I indulged in that kindness. It was essential for me to create a situation where I could leave the noble status and travel the world freely.

"But, it seems I can manage somehow."

Reflecting on the time before my birth, the request I received from the god during my reincarnation cannot be achieved while I remain in this household.

The content of the request is to receive an oracle at a specific place by the age of twenty. While what I do with the oracle is up to me, the requirement to receive it is a bit unusual.

Nobles cannot leave their territory at will, so I eventually needed to renounce my status. Even if I didn’t fully renounce it, the fact that I can leave the household is fortunate.

So, from now on,

"I just need to win."

I mutter to myself, take a deep breath, and exhale.

Pushing open the old wooden door, I step into the training ground.

There, my parents, my sister and brother, and the top-ranking members of the martial and magic squads are waiting for me.

"You’ve come, Felis."

"Yes."

Father, who seems nervous, is tapping his arm with his fingers. Despite having long since ceded the lordship, he still seems to have many worries. On the other hand, Mother is smiling at me without a word.

"Are you still determined?"

"Yes. I want to leave this household and pursue the path of a craftsman."

"I see. As a parent, I won’t stop you, but the law is the law. Show your strength according to the rules."

I nod and head to the center of the training ground. Sasset, my opponent, also advances to the center. Then, my sister Milt steps between us and announces:

"As the lord, I will proceed with the departure ceremony. The use of martial arts, magic, and tools is permitted. The match will be decided by death, surrender, or our judgment. Felis Crowren, show your strength as one who will walk alone. Sasset Silga, demonstrate the strength of a soldier who has honed her skills."

"Excuse me, what do you mean by judgment?"

Wasn’t that discussed before? It’s troublesome to suddenly add unknown terms before the match.

"For example, if one of you faints, there won’t be a surrender, but the match will be decided. There are various possibilities, so remember that we may make a judgment."

...What? It seems there’s some scheme, but I can’t read it.

Sister Milt and Brother Jito won’t make unfair judgments, but I can’t predict what the other squad members might say. I need to win in a way that is clear to everyone, right?

The situation is getting complicated. Perhaps sensing my confusion, Sister Milt whispers to me in a voice only I can hear:

"Show your true strength once in a while."

"Hmm..."

True strength, huh.

I can show it, but will my opponent be worthy of it?

Several winning strategies come to mind. The words of my sister earlier—show the strength to walk alone.

Then, this is it.

I take a step back from Sasset and throw away the long sword I was carrying. She must have taken it as a provocation, as her eyes narrow in anger.

Smirking inwardly, I take out a hatchet and a short stick from my bag. These are my partners, which I have been pouring magic into and training with every day since I decided to become a magic core craftsman at the age of seven.

Holding them in both hands, I show my true strength as a craftsman. Brother Jito’s eyes gleam when he sees me.

"I’m ready. Whenever you are."

"...You don’t even need a sword?"

"No, I just can’t win with a sword."

While I usually use a sword in training, I have never claimed to be good at it. In fact, I practiced it because I was bad at it, even though it’s a required subject for nobles.

No matter how much Sasset misunderstands and grinds her teeth, my main weapons are the hatchet and the stick.

I didn’t use them in public because they are far from refined and it was troublesome to be mocked.

"You must feel mocked."

A small whisper escapes, and resentment fills her gaze. I laugh through my nose.

"If that’s the word you use in this situation, you deserve to be mocked."

To speak like that about someone’s masterpiece.

What’s wrong with calling someone a fool who lacks the ability to see and admits it publicly?

Frustration that I’ve been holding back rises from the depths of my chest. I’ve lived trying not to assert myself to avoid causing trouble for my sister and brother. Being mocked was something I accepted to some extent. But there are times when I get frustrated.

Is it okay to do it today?

I look at Sister Milt with my eyes. She responds, steps back, and raises her right hand high.

"State your names."

"---Fourth in the Martial Squad, 'Rush' Sasset Silga."

"---Viscount Crowren, 'Magic Core Craftsman' Felis Crowren."

"Begin!"

Her right hand is lowered.

As soon as the match starts, I leap backward, and Sasset charges forward with all her might. A movement befitting her nickname.

But it’s just her usual opening move, nothing special.

I block her thrust aimed at my throat with the hatchet. The weapon she had been boasting about daily is easily cut in half by my single strike.

I thrust the stick into her sternum, and as soon as I touch it, I release a wind spell. Sasset is blown away to the wall of the training ground with little resistance.

"Ugh!"

I could have killed her, but I hesitated to reduce the number of people in the territory, so I didn’t use full power. Sasset, still conscious, staggers and tries to return to the center.

"Good spirit."

I release a weak but large fireball at a speed she can block. As expected, she cuts it off, but she blocks her own vision in the process.

Seizing the moment, I throw a needle made from a magic core at her knee.

"Ah!"

Yes, it hit. Her weapon and legs are now out of commission. I gather my magic and aim for her forehead—

"Stop, the match is over!"

Brother Jito’s voice stops me. A few seconds later, Sasset collapses with a groan.

There’s no counterattack from her.

I retract the magic I had gathered. While I don’t say Sasset is weak, the result is far from my full strength.

I sigh and look at the gathered crowd. Most of them have stern faces, and most are surprised.

"Wow, impressive. To break a famous sword made from a dragon’s fang in one hit."

"Yeah, that’s what it was. I thought it was a bit hard, though."

My hatchet has no special power like a magic sword or a holy sword. It’s just a weapon that is extremely sturdy and sharp, focusing solely on functionality. But because of that, it doesn’t lose to just any first-rate weapon.

"Well, this is my full strength. Is there anything lacking?"

"I don’t think so, but the others might have complaints."

"What are they?"

As long as law and emotion are different, I don’t deny the existence of complaints. However, the match was decided according to the rules, and to complain about it means to overturn the law with personal desires.

Are there people in this crowd who can do that? If they can, let them try.

"Do any of the participants have any objections to this match?"

"...No, it was impressive."

The sixth in the Magic Squad says with a strained voice.

Don’t show your attitude, fool. There’s nothing more pitiful than a fist you can’t bring down.

"What about the others?"

Each person looks at each other’s faces. Say your own words yourself. The sixth, who reluctantly spoke, at least had a point.

The low level of the gathered crowd brings a sense of exasperation and frustration.

"The captain of the guard has no objections, but what about the captains of the Martial Squad and Magic Squad?"

"I have no objections to Felis-sama’s departure from the start."

Captain Glagas, who knows my strength to some extent, would answer like that.

"Then, Captain Mitz?"

"I have no objections. But, you know... since my subordinate was treated so kindly, I want to face you too."

With a drawn sword, Captain Mitz leaps onto the stage.

She doesn’t seem to think I’ll refuse.

"...Alright."

I provoked her, thinking that if she could do it, she should try.

If she’s that crazy, she might be worthy of facing me.

That’s it for now.