NOVEL NEXT Chapter 50: I'm Absolutely Insane
"I need to beat Sir Leonard at least once."
Raiden didn't mean to say it out loud. It slipped free before his brain could stop it — just a weary mumble after another long, punishing day.
Unfortunately, the person he didn't want to hear it… did.
Sir Leonard paused mid-step. The sunlight caught the faint scar on his cheek as he slowly turned back, his shadow stretching across the dirt until it reached Raiden's boots.
"Really? You want to beat me?" he repeated, tone perfectly calm — and perfectly terrifying.
Raiden blinked up at him. "Uhm… I said that out loud, didn't I?"
"You did."
"Right. Then I'd like to formally retract that statement."
"Denied."
Raiden sighed. "Figures."
Sir Leonard folded his arms, studying the exhausted boy who was still trying to look dignified while half-slumped against his sword.
Then, unexpectedly, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Ambition is good," he said. "But perhaps we should start smaller — like not tripping over your own sword."
Raiden frowned. "That was one time."
Raiden bit his lower lip, regretting his first experience with the sword on the first day with Sir Leonard.
"Three." Sir Leonard countered almost instantly.
"…Fine. Three. But it was only the first day of our training and I was experimenting."
"With gravity?"
Raiden gave him a flat look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Leonard didn't answer, but his expression said it all.
"Tell you what," Leonard said at last, sliding his sword back into its sheath. "If you can land even one clean strike on me tomorrow, I'll consider it your victory."
Raiden blinked, unsure he'd heard correctly. "Wait, seriously?"
"I never joke about combat. Do I?"
Raiden shook his head as that was all the confirmation he needed. His fatigue evaporated, replaced by a burst of wild excitement. "You're on, Sir Leonard. And when I win, you're not allowed to go very hard on me next time!"
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "If I hadn't gone easy and indeed went hard, you would not be conscious to say that."
Raiden laughed nervously. "R-Right. I knew that."
"Good," Leonard said, already turning to leave. "Then sleep early. You'll need it."
As his teacher disappeared from view, Raiden collapsed backward into the dirt, staring up at the open sky. "Okay," he murmured to himself. "I'm absolutely insane. But one day, I'm landing that hit."
Soon came evening in the estate.
The dining table was unusually calm. Only the faint clinking of silverware filled the air — mostly because Raiden could barely lift his arms to eat.
Lord Cedric glanced his way. "Rough day?"
Raiden stared at his stew like it held the answers to life's deepest mysteries. "Sir Leonard doesn't believe in the concept of mercy."
His father chuckled softly. "He believes in discipline."
"Same thing," Raiden muttered.
Across the table, Kent's amused voice cut in. "You're the one who begged to train under him."
"I wanted to learn, not suffer."
Kent smirked. "Consider this your education."
Raiden shot him a glare. "You sound just like him."
Lady Elise laughed lightly. "Well, at least my sons are finally bonding over something that doesn't involve broken furniture."
Raiden pointed his spoon accusingly. "He started it."
Lord Cedric shook his head. "From what I remember, you started most things."
Raiden sighed, slumping back in his chair. "It seems betrayal runs in the family."
"Apparently so," Kent said, smirking again.
Raiden muttered, "I miss when people took my side."
No word was spoken afterwards until the end of their dinner.
After dinner, Raiden trailed Kent to the courtyard, still sore but unwilling to waste the night. Kent was wiping down his training sword when Raiden spoke up.
"Hey, big brother," he said, awkwardly rubbing his neck. "Mind sparring with me? Just… for a few minutes?"
Kent raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Sir Leonard already beat the energy out of you?"
"Yeah," Raiden admitted, "but I wanna see what I'm doing wrong. You're basically a sword genius. Help me out."
Kent looked surprised — genuinely so — then smiled slightly. "Fine. Ten minutes."
They started light. Raiden copied Kent's stance, watching closely as his brother's movements flowed effortlessly. When Kent stepped, his weight shifted perfectly; when he swung, his sword barely made a sound.
Raiden, meanwhile, looked like he was constantly on the verge of tripping over invisible rocks.
After three exchanges, Kent stopped and said, "You're holding your breath every time you attack."
Raiden blinked. "I am?"
"Yeah. You tense up too much. Relax. The sword's supposed to move with you, not against you."
Raiden took a deep breath and nodded. The next few swings felt… smoother. Less forced. Kent adjusted his footwork next, repositioned his grip, and corrected the tilt of his blade.
When they finished, Raiden was drenched in sweat again, but smiling.
"Thanks," he said, panting. "You're not half-bad for a brother."
Kent chuckled, wiping his blade. "Neither are you for a troublemaker."
"Hey, I'm improving!"
"I know," Kent said softly. "And that's what matters."
He patted Raiden's shoulder and headed back toward his room. "Don't overdo it."
Raiden watched him go, the words echoing in his head.
He didn't stop there.
When the moon rose high, Raiden returned to his secret training spot — the quiet base where he found time to train away from the family eyes . The world was still, except for the soft hum of mana in the air and the rustling of leaves above.
He drew his wooden sword and stood ready.
The faint blue shimmer of the system appeared before his eyes.
[Skill Progression: Basic Sword Strike – 87.3%]
[Basic Guard Stance – 91.8%]
[D-Class Sword Technique – 54.0%]
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's finish this."
Each swing came with a grunt. Each movement was slower than the last. But he kept going — replaying every motion, every detail Kent had corrected, every rhythm Sir Leonard had forced him to learn.
One strike. Two. Three hundred. The air cracked faintly with each motion. His arms screamed, his legs trembled, but his eyes stayed sharp.
He imagined Leonard standing before him. Calm. Untouchable. The ultimate wall.
Raiden swung again.
The system pinged softly.
[Skill Progression: Basic Sword Strike – 100%]
[Skill Upgraded! → E-Class "Sword Fundamentals (Perfected)"]
He grinned through his exhaustion. "Not bad for a five-year-old." Anyone who heard him would actually curse him and probably beat him to death.
Was there any five-year-old learning to use the sword already?
Was there one who already possessed a mana heart?
There was none!
Finally, he collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. The stars blurred overhead, but his mind was crystal clear.
"I'm gonna beat him," he whispered, half-laughing. "Maybe not tomorrow. But one day."
And with that thought burning behind his eyelids, Raiden drifted off — the faint glow of his completed skill fading beside him like a soft blue heartbeat.