Edric turned to Rowan, bending down to ruffle his hair. "Don't worry, nephew. Uncle's going to see you again. But before I go, I want to test something. You've proven you might become a fine swordsman. How about a light spar with me?"
"What are you talking about? What do you mean, a spar? He's only six years old!" Mira snapped.
"No, no, it's nothing dangerous—just a light spar," Edric said quickly, raising his hands. "I can tell he's a natural. Even at six, the way he moved earlier wasn't normal. He must have inherited his father's blood. Who knows? He could even surpass him one day."
"I said no. It's not happening," Mira said firmly.
"Wait," Aldwin interrupted. "If that's all it is, let them spar. I usually train with Rowan myself, but he's never moved like that before. With the small wooden sword I gave him, he only swings clumsily. But earlier… he showed something else."
Edric grinned. "Good. Then it's settled. Rowan, come outside with me."
"I said no! You're not sparring with him!" Mira's voice rose in protest.
"Aldwin is his father, and he agreed to it," Edric countered calmly. Without waiting for Mira's reply, he gestured for Rowan to follow him outside.
Once in the yard, Edric walked over to his butler, who stood waiting beside the carriage. "Bring me the spare sword," he ordered.
The butler bowed, opened the carriage, and carefully retrieved a blade, handing it to Edric with both hands.
The butler bent down, offering the spare sword. Rowan took it carefully, gripping the hilt with both hands. He drew the blade from its sheath, the steel gleaming under the light.
Wow… this brings back memories, Rowan thought as he stared at the weapon. I didn't expect it to feel this natural. Such a sincere sword… good balance, good weight. It moves with me. But I can't let myself get carried away. If I show too much, they'll know I'm not just an ordinary child.
He looked up at Edric, who was already unsheathing his own sword. Rowan raised his blade, and for a moment, the two locked eyes, steel reflecting steel.
"Now I'm coming!" Edric shouted, charging forward.
Rowan didn't back down—he ran to meet him. Their blades clashed, the ringing sound echoing through the yard.
"Impressive! Look at him move!" Aldwin muttered in shock, watching his son hold his ground.
"What's going on?!" Mira gasped. "How is our son moving like that? He's only six! How does he even have the grip strength to hold that sword?"
"Maybe… maybe it's from the little practice sword I gave him," Aldwin said uncertainly. "He swings it every day… but still… this is far beyond anything I expected."
Mira's eyes widened. "It's like he's going toe-to-toe with Edric…"
Rowan leapt back, steadying his stance. Edric mirrored him, smiling.
That was fun, Rowan thought. But I need to be careful. They're watching. If I go too far, they'll know I've been hiding my strength.
The two rushed forward again. Edric swung downward, but Rowan dodged, slipping his head just out of the strike's path before countering with a quick slash. Edric turned and avoided it just in time.
He's good… far too good for a child. No, this isn't just talent. He's hiding something. Edric's eyes narrowed. He stepped back, putting distance between them. If I want to push him further, I'll have to raise the stakes.
Rowan tensed, sword still raised, studying Edric's movements.
Suddenly, Edric closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. His aura shifted, heavy and sharp. Killing intent leaked from him like a blade pressed against the skin.
Wait… what is this? Rowan's eyes narrowed. He's projecting killing intent… but why? Does he think I'll fall for it?
He felt his body tense instinctively, his senses sharpened.
Edric's smirk returned. Only powerful adventurers can sense this kind of pressure. If he reacts, then I'll know for sure. I'll push him into the corner—make him unleash or this might push him break his limits.
Then, without warning, Edric sprinted—not at Rowan, but at Mira, who stood by the doorway.
"What—?!" Rowan's eyes widened. He's heading for Mom?!
His grip tightened around the sword, his instincts screaming. If it were just me, I'd be fine. But Mom—! I can't let him!
Rowan's hand shot forward, stretching toward Edric as the world around him seemed to slow.
Rowan set his right hand on the hilt and forced his breath steady. Even if I have to kill him, it doesn't matter, he thought. Move faster. I will not lose anyone I love again.
Before Rowan could even react, Aldwin was already there. His hands clamped around both blades, stopping them in an instant. Rowan froze, his sword trembling in his grip, but he didn't swing again. He understood—Edric hadn't truly meant harm. It was just another one of his games, his way of testing people.