The Reborn Swordmaster
Chapter 27
Somewhere in the depths of his unconscious mind, Aries found himself thinking.
When did people reveal their true nature?
There were many possible moments. Sadness, anger, joy, and countless other emotions could bring out a person's true self.
But if someone asked Aries to choose just one, he knew exactly what he would say.
The moment before death.
He wasn't old enough to claim that he'd accumulated a lifetime of wisdom, but his profession had brought him closer to death than almost anyone else in this peaceful age without war.
Having lived that kind of life, Aries prided himself on possessing a certain ability to see through people's outward appearances and understand their inner nature.
...
Then he remembered the black eyes that had looked down at him.
A chill ran through his entire body.
He'd never encountered anything like them before.
There had been no anger in those eyes.
Nor had they been filled with the excitement of someone intoxicated by victory.
There had certainly been no sadness.
And Riyan hadn't looked at his defeated opponent with pity or compassion either.
If Aries had to find something even remotely similar, it would be the way certain noblewomen looked at him after satisfying their accumulated desires and recovering their usual refined composure.
The way someone might look at a comb, a wineglass, or a mirror.
The eyes of someone looking at a tool that had already served its purpose.
That was what made it so strange.
It wasn't the kind of attitude one would expect from a fighter engaged in a duel.
What exactly lay behind those eyes?
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
Rain began to fall.
The sound of raindrops striking the roof brought Aries back to consciousness.
He opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was the ceiling.
Then he noticed the rough texture of the blanket covering him and the dull aches spreading throughout his body.
It was daytime outside.
However, with rain clouds covering the sky, it was difficult to tell whether it was morning or afternoon.
When he turned his head in the opposite direction, he saw a chair beside the bed.
Someone was sitting in it.
Riyan.
Dressed in an ordinary linen shirt, Riyan sat with his legs crossed, reading a book.
Each time he turned a page, his leather boot moved slightly.
Aries's gaze naturally shifted toward the book.
[Botanical Classification and Imperial Nomenclature of the Flora of Bellance Province]
...Why is he reading something like that?
Meanwhile, Riyan noticed that Aries was looking at him.
Snap!
He closed the book and placed it on the table.
"You're awake."
"Did I lose consciousness?"
"Yes."
After hearing the answer, Aries raised a hand and rubbed his face.
The events of the previous night flashed through his mind like lightning.
His sword had been deflected.
He'd been struck in the abdomen.
His hand had been stepped on.
He'd been kicked in the chest.
And finally, he'd taken a blow to the chin and lost consciousness.
There wasn't any special swordsmanship.
Riyan had been telling the truth.
Aries had simply been outmatched.
Nothing more, nothing less.
He'd been beaten through sheer ability.
Aries had no choice but to acknowledge it.
"...You're strong."
"Stronger than you, at least."
It was a rather humiliating remark.
Strangely enough, however, Aries didn't feel particularly offended.
Perhaps it was because he'd suffered such an overwhelming defeat.
He let out a short breath and laughed before changing the subject.
"By the way, have you been putting off your training to look after me? I'm sorry."
"Do I look like I have that much free time? Training was canceled today because of the rain anyway. Besides, there are a few things I wanted to discuss with you before anyone else, once you woke up."
"Discuss?"
"Oh dear. I don't remember hitting you in the head."
"..."
Aries frowned.
Riyan leaned back comfortably in his chair and raised his index finger.
"Fine. I'll go over everything again. First, win the mock naval battle. Naturally, the reason is to become a Champion."
"Understood."
Aries nodded without arguing.
Riyan nodded in satisfaction and raised a second finger.
"Second, while participating in the mock naval battle training, you'll also receive private training from me. It'll be quite demanding. You'll essentially be spending twice as much time training as everyone else."
Hearing that, Aries suddenly remembered the last words he'd heard before losing consciousness.
Still, if you want, I can at least teach you why you're lying on the ground right now.
Why he'd ended up sprawled on the ground...
What could the reason be?
As he'd just recalled, he'd simply been stepped on and kicked around.
But perhaps mastering those fundamentals would be enough.
Even if Riyan possessed some secret sword technique, Aries had no business hoping to learn it when he couldn't even overcome Riyan's basic skills.
"Understood."
Riyan crossed his arms and nodded at the answer.
"And finally, keep a diary."
"...What?"
Aries had been able to accept the first two conditions.
But the third took him completely by surprise.
A diary?
Where had that come from?
Seeing his reaction, Riyan frowned.
"Don't tell me you can't read and write."
"No, I can, but..."
"Good. Then what's the problem?"
"Why do you want me to keep a diary?"
"Why else? Because I need to read it."
Aries stared at him in disbelief.
"Why would you want to know what I ate that day, what I like, or what I spent my time doing? What use could you possibly have for that information? What kind of bizarre hobby is this?"
Riyan frowned as though Aries had just said something utterly ridiculous.
"Why would I care what the hell you eat or what you like? I want you to write down your thoughts about the training you receive. I called it a diary rather than a training log because I thought giving you a rigid format right away might make you too self-conscious or burden you unnecessarily. Once you're accustomed to writing, I'll establish a proper format."
Seeing the irritation on Riyan's face, Aries finally relaxed and nodded.
"Well, if that's all... But what are you planning to do with it?"
What else?
Riyan intended to use it as reference material for compiling and systematizing the Eldred Style.
But there was no need to explain that.
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Just think of it as another part of your training. Writing things down will help organize your scattered thoughts, which should improve your abilities. As for why I need to read it, I have to understand what's going on inside your head."
"That makes sense. Understood."
"Now that we've finished going over the general arrangements, it's your turn to tell me something."
"Tell you what?"
Seeing Aries become wary again, Riyan rubbed his temples.
Just how much does this bastard love himself?
"About the Imperial nobles. I doubt there's anyone around me who knows as much about them as you do. The important thing is that you don't lie. If you don't know something, just say so. I won't hold it against you, so there's no need to worry."
"Why are you suddenly interested in the nobles? Is it because you're looking for sponsorship? I wouldn't really recommend..."
Aries was about to advise him against it when he noticed Riyan's eyebrows twitch.
He cleared his throat softly.
"...Ahem. Where should I begin? The Trangest District would be a good place to start. It's where the most prominent people in the Imperial Capital live."
Several weeks passed after the commotion caused by the duel.
During that time, the Rodus Training Center remained incredibly busy.
The sight of the fighters dividing into groups and preparing for the mock naval battle aboard the newly constructed model ships was quite impressive.
"Don't let them push you back! If you give ground, I'll kill you! Hold the line even if it kills you!"
"You bastard! Yarik! They're breaking through over there!"
The shield wall was arranged in two rows along the model ship's railing, with the squad leaders shouting orders from behind it.
Whenever someone began losing ground, another fighter would reach out and support his back.
If a fighter fell or became exhausted, someone else would immediately step forward and fill the gap.
They were doing everything they could to prevent the continuous line of shields from collapsing.
"Break through! If we lose today, I won't forgive any of you!"
"Get across! Move! Move, you bastard! Get out of the way and let me through!"
The opposing group was desperately trying to break through that wall.
Standing precariously on the makeshift ladders bridging the two ships, the attacking fighters kicked at the shields or attempted to leap over them.
Some even threw grappling hooks, secured ropes, and used them to swing across.
Of course, several fighters lost their balance and fell during the process.
Fortunately, the area surrounding the model ships had been covered with thick layers of soft straw, so their injuries were limited to minor bruises.
In any case, the important thing was that the attacking and defending groups weren't divided into Rodus and Verso.
Fighters from both training centers had been thoroughly mixed together.
"...Impressive."
One of the men watching this unusual boarding battle unfold on dry land couldn't help expressing his admiration.
Berka nodded with a hearty laugh.
"Do you really think so?"
The man who had spoken was remarkably thin, with a sharp, angular jaw.
He was also the director of a respectable training center.
Several other important figures stood nearby.
Among them were a generously built middle-aged man with a protruding belly, an older gentleman with abundant white hair, and a stern-looking middle-aged man.
They were all influential figures from training centers that had received invitations to participate in the joint training.
The white-haired gentleman spoke next.
"Director Berka, you've clearly put a great deal of thought into this. What's the purpose of that shield wall? To me, it looks more like an army fighting than a group of gladiators."
"Oh, Director Aguilar! Your years of experience certainly show. You've identified the principle immediately. I'll take that as a compliment."
Aguilar was regarded as something of a senior figure in the fighter-training industry.
Berka treated him with considerable respect, and Aguilar appeared quite pleased by the courtesy.
"When I was younger, I volunteered to participate in a monster-suppression campaign on the frontier. I remember the army using similar tactics back then. Have you recruited an instructor with a military background? Ah, of course. You have Haral, don't you? That fellow has plenty of experience. Now I understand."
Berka simply shrugged.
There was no reason to tell them that his senior instructor was following the orders of a slave.
Officially, all of this training was being conducted by Riyan under Haral's supervision.
"There are still about two months left until the mock naval battle. If they've already reached this level, I imagine they'll only continue improving."
"Exactly. They'll grow stronger with each passing day."
"How is Trident responding?"
"They've caught wind of what we're doing. But that doesn't necessarily change anything. Not as long as we manage to form a proper alliance."
"Quite right. Hmm. By the way, Director Berka, I don't see that fighter of yours."
"Do you mean Fighter Riyan? He's currently undergoing special training."
"Special training? What kind?"
Berka extended a hand toward the shield wall arranged on the model ships.
"Defending ourselves is one thing, but ultimately, if we want to win, someone has to cross over to the enemy ship and capture its commander's flag, doesn't he? We're conducting separate training to prepare for that. You could call it a special detachment."
Berka's smile turned sly.
"Of course, at Verso's earnest request, one of their promising fighters is also participating. I'm referring to the Rose Fighter."
"...Ah!"
Exclamations of surprise rose from the gathered directors.
They had imagined the White Wolf and the Rose Fighter charging into enemy territory together and capturing the commander's flag.
Just then, the potbellied director, who had been busy wiping away his sweat, approached Berka while breathing heavily.
"D-Director Berka, there's an exceptionally talented spearman at our training center. Wouldn't he be useful for something like that?"
"Ah, you mean Hakon? I remember him being quite skilled."
"Exactly! So, could he receive that special training too?"
"I'm not sure. That's something we can consider only after your training center agrees to cooperate with ours, wouldn't you say?"
"Ah, well, once I've received confirmation about that, perhaps I could give the matter some more thought..."
Seeing the potbellied director hesitate, Berka immediately waved him away and frowned.
"Do as you please. But remember one thing. When the time comes to decide which fighters will be assigned to which positions during the mock naval battle, priority will go to the training centers that have trained and cooperated with us the longest."
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
"To put it simply, people like you who keep testing the waters before joining at the last moment to enjoy the benefits will find themselves at a disadvantage."
Berka's eyebrows drew together as he delivered the warning.
Before the potbellied director could respond, two of the other men immediately raised their hands.
"The Raus Training Center will join you."
"Our Glia Training Center too! Our fighters are exceptionally skilled at handling nets. They'll be extremely useful!"
Hearing their declarations, the potbellied director's face reddened like a desperate dog that needed to relieve itself.
"N-No! Didn't you ask me first? I only said I wanted to think about it! I never said I wouldn't join! So I should get priority!"
As the directors began shouting and desperately competing for a place in the alliance, Berka couldn't help laughing to himself.
Riyan, you little treasure!
He was already thinking that he ought to give the boy some substantial reward before long.
