"Raise your left shoulder by four centimeters."
Blindingly white sword-light crossed against the black blade, scattering sparks at every clash of steel.
"Got it!"
Makoto twisted his wrist, the black sword arcing upward in an instant, carving a blood-red crescent through the air like a demonic moon.
Clang—
"Your stance is collapsing. That way you can't bring out your full strength."
Ikki Kurogane casually blocked Makoto's blade, speaking as if it were nothing.
Behind the dormitory, on the training grounds, Makoto and Ikki were sparring with their swords.
Though to call it a spar was misleading—this was essentially one-sided instruction from Ikki to Makoto.
After all, Makoto was a complete novice at swordsmanship.
Without even using his ability, there was no way he could compare to Ikki, whose skill with the blade was already obvious.
But the more they fought, the more astonished Makoto became.
"Ikki, if you weren't born into this world, your talent would have truly blossomed."
Makoto knew nothing of swordsmanship, only starting to practice yesterday.
But he could clearly feel the difference between how Nene Saikyo and Ikki taught him.
Nene's teaching style was like force-feeding, pouring everything into him and forcing him to somehow integrate it all during combat.
But Ikki was completely different.
It was as though Ikki had full control over Makoto's movements.
No—that wasn't right.
It was more like Ikki could read him completely.
Because of that, Ikki's guidance struck precisely at the tiniest of details. And every time Makoto followed Ikki's advice, he could feel himself evolving.
And Makoto knew about Ikki.
This guy had no teacher, no mentor in swordsmanship.
He might not even have had a worthy opponent for years.
That meant the skill Ikki now possessed was all self-forged, earned through sweat, solitude, and relentless practice.
That alone proved how far beyond normal Ikki's mastery truly was.
If swordsmanship itself were an official ranking category in the Knight system, Ikki would easily be at least A-rank—maybe even higher.
"Makoto, your progress is fast too."
Even as Makoto expressed his amazement, Ikki countered his strike again and voiced his own surprise.
Ikki hadn't interacted much with other swordsmen, aside from watching a few videos online or those reckless dojo challenges he had undertaken in the past.
So he didn't know what "normal" growth for a swordsman looked like.
But Makoto's growth rate felt astonishing.
In just this short time, he was like a sponge, madly absorbing every bit of sword knowledge Ikki offered.
To put it in perspective—
At first, Makoto's swordsmanship was like Ikki's when he was five, just barely learning to hold a sword.
But now, already, Makoto was at least at the level Ikki had reached at nine.
"Makoto, you're a natural-born swordsman. Your flexible wrists and supple joints let you unleash maximum power from any stance in an instant."
Ikki, having seen right through him, bluntly pointed out why Makoto's growth was so explosive.
"I don't have any formal techniques to teach, but there is one move I want you to see. I think this sword art suits you perfectly."
Ikki said this, then leapt back a step.
"Alright!"
Makoto didn't even ask what it was. He too stepped back, eyes burning as he fixed his gaze on Ikki's wrists.
Ikki drew in a deep breath.
His left foot slid forward, right leg braced, knees bent like a horse stance. His sword, Intetsu, rested at his rear waist.
"——"
The atmosphere instantly shifted, like the air before a raging storm. A chill of foreboding ran through Makoto.
"Watch closely!"
At his words—
Shing—!
A piercing blade song cut through the air.
Makoto's pupils shrank.
His eyes flared crimson, glowing faintly.
In that instant, it was as though the world slowed.
He could finally see clearly—
The blade flash was already before his throat.
There was no time to dodge.
Even if he accelerated his body now, by the time his nerves and magic responded, the sword would have already cut his neck.
Bang—!
Magic erupted across his body, just barely intercepting the strike.
The blade stopped less than a millimeter from his throat.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. That just proves, Makoto, your reflexes are extraordinary. Even though I'm not that skilled at Iai-draws, reacting to this kind of strike isn't easy."
Ikki looked at Makoto with a glimmer in his eyes.
To become a true swordsman, putting aside willpower and spirit—The two most critical physical traits were control over one's joints and reflex speed.
Normally, those had to be trained through relentless practice.
Ikki himself had honed them from childhood.
But some people were born with them.
Makoto was one of those rare talents.
"So that was a draw slash?"
Makoto blinked in realization.
"What, you've studied iai before?"
Sheathing Intetsu, Ikki stepped forward curiously.
"Forget it, I'll just show you."
Makoto gestured for Ikki to move aside, pointing at a large tree nearby.
With a shimmer of starlight, Kūretsu appeared in his right hand.
Bang bang bang bang—!
Light flared around him. Gunshots cracked through the air. Four small but clean bullet holes appeared in the tree trunk.
"A gun where you can't see the chamber—so that's it. You reshaped the principle of the draw slash into gunplay. No wonder you're so familiar with it. No wonder your wrist flexibility is so refined."
Talent alone is nothing without training.
Years of using chains and refining his gun techniques had already forged Makoto's body to make full use of his natural gifts.
"Then this works out well. Learning iai will be much easier for you."
Meanwhile, on a bench not far away, Shizuku Kurogane and Stella Vermillion sat side by side.
Yes, the two usually irreconcilable girls were now quietly watching Makoto and Ikki train.
"Brother looks so happy…"
Shizuku pouted, her lips pursed high.
"It should've been my practice time with Makoto right now."
"If only I could switch places, I'd be sparring with Brother… while getting all lovey-dovey with him too."
"..."
The two girls' gazes met in that moment—
Stella flushed scarlet.
"Princess Stella, could it be you also…"
"D-Don't say it…!"
But strangely, Stella felt Shizuku's hostility toward her suddenly lessen.
Then Shizuku spoke.
"In that case, Princess Stella… let's form an alliance."
——
Late that night, Stella lay on the top bunk, unable to sleep.
Though calling it "night" wasn't accurate—by now it was five in the morning. In just an hour, it would already be time for her and Makoto's daily morning training.
And the reason she hadn't slept all night—
Was simply because of what Shizuku had said to her earlier.
-=-=-
"Princess Stella, let's cooperate."
That one abrupt sentence, without preamble, had left Stella completely bewildered.
"Cooperate? In what way?"
"An offensive-defensive alliance."
Shizuku's emerald eyes gleamed with seriousness.
"What… do you mean?"
Stella still didn't quite grasp it.
But Shizuku didn't seem irritated. Her lips curled slightly upward.
"First, admit one thing. Even if you don't agree, don't shout it out loud—or Brother and the others might notice."
Because the two of them were always bickering like fire and water, Shizuku's sudden seriousness threw Stella off.
Without thinking, she nodded.
"You like Makoto, don't you?"
It felt like her blood rushed backward, exploding into her head. Shame squeezed her chest tight. The words of denial shot to her lips—
But remembering her promise just now, she bit them back.
For a long moment, she wavered, before finally nodding, her voice as faint as a mosquito's wings.
"…Mm."
"That makes things easier." Shizuku clapped her hands with a little smirk, like a devil who had just seized control.
"Princess Stella, I have to tell you something. Your situation is quite precarious."
Not just precarious—downright unpleasant.
Stella hated how Shizuku had completely seized the initiative, but her curiosity forced her to listen.
"Why am I in danger?"
"Because of rivals, of course."
Shizuku crossed her legs, her black-stockinged calves swaying.
"You know how rare it is for a student to already be recognized as an A-rank Knight, don't you? Throughout history, the only precedent was when 'World Clock' and 'Yasha-hime' appeared ten years ago."
Knights could advance by completing missions—honing control, refining techniques, developing new uses for their abilities.
Generally, even C-ranks had a chance to rise to A-rank.
For B-ranks, the odds were much higher. In fact, most A-ranks in the Union had climbed up that way.
"But now, another A-rank has appeared. One with no teacher, no background, no patron. Do you really think the noble families here won't make a move?"
Stella fell silent.
Because Shizuku was right—she had simply never thought about it.
Blazer abilities weren't inherited directly.
But aptitude was hereditary.
Parents with strong potential often bore children with the same.
So someone like Makoto was the ideal father for future generations.
And what about Stella herself?
That was different. She was the sole heir of Vermillion's royal line. Who could dare marry her off?
The most they could demand was a son-in-law.
Everyone knew it. That was why no one dared approach Stella.
Seeing Stella's expression, Shizuku knew her words had landed.
"Exactly. Even if I have no qualms about loving my brother, he himself will always hesitate because of society's view. That's why I need a partner in this alliance."
She stilled her legs and held up two fingers in front of Stella.
"A pact of mutual aid—within limits. No obligations to force the other. Fair enough, right?"
A shrewd glint flickered in her eyes.
Pursuing her brother was already hard enough. If his friends constantly brought up the issue of siblings, he'd only resist her more.
She had to neutralize this problem here and now.
"B-But… you're his sis—"
Stella's protest caught in her throat. Makoto's face flashed in her mind, and she could only begrudgingly nod.
"…Mm."