Chapter 78 : Time to Take a Beating

The boy suddenly lifted his head, scanning the trees above—but found no one there.

In a solemn whisper, I muttered,

“Too late, brat. I’m already above you.”

A figure of speech, though in truth, I was above him—just not directly overhead, but off to the side.

By the time he thought to look up, Shushruta and I had already shifted positions, our presence perfectly concealed.

Shushruta observed him curiously.

“He’s sharp for his age.”

Resting my chin in my palm, I replied lazily.

“Still just a brat.”

“You were a brat once too.”

“So what?”

“As the saying goes, frogs forget they were once tadpoles.”

“I’m not a frog.”

“You look like one.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

While we exchanged nonsense, the boy searched for whoever had felled the tree.

Failing to find anyone, he planted his feet in the clearing and raised his wooden sword.

“Oh. Training, is it?”

The boy lifted the sword overhead and struck down in a straight arc.

Whoosh—

The whistle of air was surprisingly fierce.

[Hmph. That’s trained form.]

Just as the Heavenly Demon said.

Though awkward in places—his stance unpolished, balance slightly off—the overall discipline of his movements revealed his intent.

He was, without doubt, a squire in training.

Even with a single downward cut, his swing carried real weight.

Whoosh—

He repeated the motion, cutting down again and again.

Shushruta tilted her head.

“He must be one of the squires. Probably sneaks out here for secret practice.”

Then she frowned.

“But why train in hiding?”

“Guess he prefers a quiet place. Hey, didn’t you bring jerky?”

“Only dried fruit. The maids gave me plenty once I told them I was your companion.”

“You should’ve brought jerky too. Tch. No sense.”

“If you’re so full of sense, why didn’t you bring it yourself?”

We bickered while the boy continued to practice, sweat soaking him, yet never stopping.

No fancy techniques—just the same downward cut, over and over.

The stubborn kind.

I nodded faintly.

“Reminds me of myself at that age.”

Shushruta scoffed.

“…You’re laughing?”

“He’s a squire in training.”

“I wasn’t a squire, but I was the same—training every day.”

“More like picking fights and beating up people your age.”

“What do you know, thief?”

“Delinquent.”

We locked eyes in silence.

“Mm. This fruit tastes better the more I eat. Give me more.”

“Enough. You didn’t even like it at first. Why suddenly now?”

“Because stealing food always tastes better.”

“I said enough!”

Shushruta bit my hand when I tried to dig through her pouch.

“Ow! You little—! You wanna go?”

[Tch. Sit still for once.]

The boy paused mid-swing, glancing toward us. We quickly shifted positions again and called a truce.

“Just a little more.”

“A little.”

And so, nibbling Shushruta’s snacks, we watched the boy’s practice.

Then Shushruta’s ears twitched, her gaze snapping to the rear.

“Someone’s coming.”

“Again?”

She nodded.

“This time, more of them. From the east—must be from the squires’ quarters.”

“Was this clearing some kind of secret training ground? Why’s everyone flocking here?”

I only wanted to swing my sword, but uninvited guests kept appearing.

Before long, more boys about the same age swaggered into the clearing.

They spotted the lone boy and snickered among themselves.

“So this is where you were hiding.”

“Knew it. What an idiot.”

“He really thinks swinging a stick like that’ll change anything?”

“Still wasting time, huh?”

“Doesn’t he know by now?”

One boy stood out—a clear ringleader.

The others gathered around him, jeering under his lead.

The leader sneered.

“A fool never knows he’s a fool.”

Then he called out.

“Hey, idiot!”

The others burst out laughing.

“You think just swinging a sword over and over will make a difference?”

The leader smirked, pressing on.

“You think you’ll ever feel mana like that? It doesn’t work that way. You know it’s decided before you’re fifteen. You know that, don’t you?”

“……”

“Don’t cling to hopeless dreams. I’m saying this for your own good.”

The others cackled, adding their own jabs.

“Even if you swing like a madman, lowborn blood stays lowborn.”

“Mana’s in the blood, idiot.”

“You never had a chance. What are you clinging to? Stupid.”

“Hey, Hugo, why not just be a servant in my house? I’ll pay you well.”

“No way, he can’t even do that. Doesn’t know anything else. He should just be a mercenary.”

“Pff—hahaha!”

I murmured from my perch, oddly impressed.

“Ohhh.”

The insults were aimed at the boy, but somehow I felt attacked too.

They were mocking commoners and mercenaries alike.

By their logic, the reason I could never feel mana was because of my own lowborn blood.

…So these brats are insulting parents they’ve never even met.

A flicker of anger stirred in me, but I held back.

This was the boys’ fight. Adults had no place interfering.

And yet, when the lone boy ignored them and kept swinging, they turned to insult his family.

“Your dad’s a candle maker, right?”

The boy’s swing faltered for a split second.

The ringleader boy, noticing the hesitation, smirked wickedly and pressed the attack.

“Our house is running low on candles. Think your father could take the order?”

“……”

“Mm… No, forget it. A filthy commoner’s candles would be worthless anyway.”

The others chimed in, piling on.

“Probably too cheap to even light properly!”

“The flame would flicker and sputter like this—”

One boy wagged his body comically, mimicking a trembling candle.

The group burst out laughing.

“Dreaming big, aren’t you? What’s a candle-maker’s son doing here trying to be a knight?”

“Seriously, how did he even get in?”

The ringleader curled his lips into a cruel grin.

“I know exactly how Hugo got here.”

“How?”

The boy sneered at Hugo, who had already stopped swinging his sword.

“His daddy sold more than candles to some fat noblewoman, if you catch my drift.”

“You bastard!”

Hugo lunged with a snarl, clutching his wooden sword.

His eyes burned with unrestrained fury.

I whistled softly.

“Whoa. That’s some first-rate filth. Knows how to tear a man’s calm to shreds.”

Shushruta nodded.

“Though compared to you, it’s but a drop in the bucket.”

“Fair enough.”

The ringleader snorted, beckoning with his hand.

“Angry, are you? Come. I’ll show you the difference in class.”

Hugo roared and swung his wooden sword down.

The leader sidestepped smoothly, smiling, then rammed his fist into Hugo’s stomach.

Thwack!

“Urgh!”

Hugo gritted his teeth and kept swinging, but the other boy danced around him with practiced ease. Each dodge was followed by a sharp punch or a kick, landing blow after blow.

His speed was nearly double Hugo’s.

Mana.

He was using mana.

At his age, to wield it so freely… a prodigy beyond question.

The other boys burst into laughter.

“Pfft—hahaha! Look at him flail!”

“That’s what happens when you don’t know your place. Who does he think he is, picking a fight with Rickmon? He’s rumored to be the youngest knight in the Starvanger line!”

“And yet a trash-born worm thinks he belongs here.”

Hugo finally crumpled when his legs were kicked out from under him.

The others rushed in, stomping and spitting on him as they shouted curses.

I munched on Shushruta’s stolen snack, watching with interest.

“Hooh.”

Eventually, tiring of their sport, they sauntered off the way they came.

Once they were gone, Hugo picked himself up with little fuss, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

Then, silently, he lifted his wooden sword and resumed practice.

Whoosh—

He looked calm, but I caught the fury blazing in his eyes.

“…Interesting.”

A smile tugged at my lips.

After that, I often snuck out of the mansion to watch the clearing.

Word had it Joy was entertaining herself by pestering the knights in my absence, but that was none of my concern.

If Hugo wasn’t there, I trained.

If he was, I hid in the trees and watched.

He never missed a day.

Swing after swing, sweat pouring down, stubborn as stone.

And often, the same pack of boys would come to harass him.

Yet he never stopped.

I saw myself in him.

Repeating the same futile struggle I once knew so well.

Rickmon wasn’t wrong. Swinging a stick endlessly wouldn’t awaken mana.

Swordsmanship alone could never bridge the gap.

Those with mana were faster, stronger, sharper. An unbreachable wall divided them from those without.

And between aura-users and non-users, an even greater wall.

The wall of talent.

I had smashed myself against that wall day after day, only to find it unyielding.

But I also saw Sir Roetgel in the boy.

Roetgel had once been unable to use mana.

And yet, when last I met him, he wielded it deftly.

He had shattered that wall.

Not long after I had forced inner energy into him.

So then… could this boy too?

Thud.

I dropped from the tree.

Hugo flinched, startled, staring at me.

Cracking my knuckles, I strode toward him.

“Let’s see how much of a beating you can take.”

(End of Chapter)

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