On a quiet afternoon after lunch, Yujin watched the elderly butler with half-lidded eyes. Daniel had mentioned that this man had looked after him since his childhood and was now doing the same for Kiril. Even now, with the Nearl family in decline, he was the only one who remained, fulfilling an ancient vow to stay by their side.
Yujin noted his hair—mostly golden like Kiril‘s, though heavily streaked with white. His instincts whispered that this man was far from ordinary.
"…You keep looking back and forth between my hair and my eyes," the butler noted.
"Ah… sorry about that," Yujin replied awkwardly.
He wondered if the butler had noticed him measuring his capability. The old man waved a hand dismissively.
"It is quite alright. In this day and age, this hair is a rarity. Even I... possess the Nearl blood, in name at least."
The butler adjusted his monocle, his voice tinged with bitterness. Yujin finally realized the man‘s standing.
"So, you aren't of the direct line? A branch relative?"
"Indeed. The direct descendants of the Nearl line are destined to possess golden eyes and hair of pure gold. Sadly, being from a branch family, I was born with blue eyes."
The butler gestured toward his eye, where a gaze as sharp and clear as sapphire was fixed on Yujin.
Without another word, Yujin followed him. The path didn't lead to a library where books and records would be stored, but to a wide, open clearing behind the manor. It wasn't just a yard; it was a dedicated training ground built for duels and martial refinement.
"Butler."
"Yujin. I agree with the Master's assessment. The Nearls have faded, we are on the verge of losing our noble status, and the very name is at risk of vanishing."
The old man‘s blue eyes flared with an intense light.
"However, I cannot allow our legacy to be handed over to just anyone. Not to some 'nobody.'"
In a blink, a blade appeared in the old man's hand. It was a peculiar weapon—the blade was segmented into multiple pieces, looking as if it could stretch and flex.
"…You want proof?"
"Precisely. Young Master Kiril and the Master may trust you, but I do not know what kind of man you truly are. So, show me."
The request was simple: a trial by combat.
"I accept," Yujin replied.
Instead of drawing his own black blade, Yujin walked to the corner of the yard and picked up a standard training sword from the rack. The butler‘s eyes narrowed slightly.
"You don't intend to use your own weapon?"
"Consider it a handicap."
Though they had only just met, Yujin understood the old man‘s anxiety. An outsider—a swordsman from a nameless frontier—intending to learn the Nearl style and compete in the Major? To a traditionalist, it sounded like madness. Yujin carried the responsibility of putting those doubts to rest.
"It‘s also an advantage given to a veteran knight," Yujin added.
He drew the training sword and gave it a light swing. It hummed through the air, reflecting the bright sunlight. Dust swirled on the level ground of the arena.
"…Youth truly is a wonderful thing."
"I‘ll let you take the lead. Come."
It might have looked like arrogance, but the elderly butler was already breaking into a cold sweat as he watched Yujin. After picking up the sword, everything about the boy had shifted. His relaxed posture vanished, replaced by an absolute lack of openings. Those platinum eyes—so similar to the Nearls'—seemed to see through everything.
"I, who was once called the Lash Knight, challenge you!"
Titles were discarded. In the arena stood only two swordsmen.
"Challenge accepted."
The distance was considerable, but the butler flicked his wrist. The sword instantly uncoiled like a whip. Ignoring the standard range of a blade, the segments lashed out, sweeping across the floor of the courtyard.
A "Snake-Belly" sword.
The serrated edges, linked like a serpent's scales, extended from mid-range to prevent Yujin from closing in. Yujin parried the first few strikes, but the weapon‘s momentum was fluid; it curved and snapped in ways a normal sword couldn't.
Schlar-tink!
Yujin had never fought such a unique weapon before. Its trajectory was nearly impossible to map. He dropped into a low crouch as the steel hissed overhead.
His reaction startled the butler. Predicting the reach of a whip-sword was nearly impossible—to dodge it with such precision meant he wasn't relying on mere sight.
Yujin‘s eyes tracked every link. He saw where the tip was headed and where the curve of the cord would swing. The young swordsman was seeing the "flow" and reacting before the steel could reach him.
"My handicap ends here."
Suddenly, Yujin was standing outside the whip's effective reach.
Master Daniel... has brought home an absolute monster.
The butler felt as if he were staring back into his own past. He remembered his days on the battlefield alongside Daniel‘s father, serving under the banner of the Silverlance Pegasi, purging the enemies of Kazimierz.
"Heh."
His blood began to boil. He was in the winter of his life and should have been content with a quiet retirement, but he couldn't help himself. Facing a talent like this was a call he couldn't ignore. He too had lived a life driven by a youthful dream.
Wreathed in his own segmented blade, the butler charged. Yujin lowered his center of gravity as the steel rain descended upon him.
"I shall show you the posture you deserve," Yujin said.
He leaned forward uncharacteristically far, leveling his blade in a straight line. The butler‘s sword shimmered with dozens of reflections in the sun, curving toward Yujin from multiple angles. It was a lethal web, yet Yujin remained motionless.
Why isn't he moving?!
Exhilarated by the clash, the butler‘s eyes darted to the floor. The tips of his blades were a heartbeat away from Yujin‘s chest, but he saw something that made his heart skip a beat.
He saw Yujin‘s feet.
The ground beneath the boy's boots was cracked and sunken, as if crushed by an immense weight. The butler realized the danger too late.
Yujin thrust his blade forward, his eyes locking onto the old man‘s.
Yujin had never faced such an unorthodox weapon, and against an equal opponent, it would have been a grave threat. But he was facing a man at the end of his path. The butler‘s wisdom was vast, but the physical gap was insurmountable.
Yujin pushed off the ground. The shockwave was anything but "light."
The earth shattered as platinum energy surged forward. Yujin‘s sword became a blur of motion, tearing through the "web" of the whip-sword and forcing the segments back. In a flash, his blade was leveled at the butler‘s throat.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring echoed as the butler barely managed to pull his weapon back into its solid form, parrying the tip of Yujin‘s sword just in time. If he hadn't blocked it, the strike would have been fatal.
The butler retreated, creating distance. He reached up to touch the skin of his neck and looked at Yujin.
"…Good grief. You‘re quite harsh on an old man."
"And is it right for an old man to try so hard to kill a youth?"
Yujin gave a hollow laugh. He had lunged with the intent to end the match by a hair‘s breadth, but he hadn't expected the butler to actually parry it.
Crack...
"Ah."
The standard training sword, unable to withstand the sheer pressure Yujin had put into the strike, shattered into pieces.
"I might have been a bit too rough on the gear," Yujin muttered.
The butler stood in silence, the trial concluded. He knew he had seen only the tip of the iceberg of the boy's power. He tidied his disheveled suit and looked at Yujin.
"That... was more than enough. Far more."
This youth might actually do it. In this Major, where the greatest geniuses and champions of Kazimierz were gathering... he might actually reach the end.
The butler looked around, noticing the small group that had gathered in the corner to watch. Kiril stood with his jaw dropped; Raquelamalin watched with wide, processing eyes. Even Kisha was staring at Yujin, looking startled.
Yujin wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over to Kiril.
"Do you have a little more respect for your Master now?"
"…I‘ve always respected you!"
"Liar."
"No, really! I mean—how did you even do that?!"
From Kiril‘s perspective, the butler had held every advantage. The blades had surrounded Yujin, ready to swallow him, but in the blink of an eye, the trap was broken and Yujin‘s blade was at the butler‘s throat.
"Keep up with your training and you‘ll get there eventually."
"I don't think I‘d get there even if I died and came back to life, Master..."
"Don't give up so soon, kid."
Raquelamalin watched Yujin closely. She hadn't seen the details during the chaotic fight with the Confessarii, but now it was clear. She understood why the Nachzehrer King had taken him as a student.
But Yujin‘s mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of the Nearl records, the ancient techniques, and the history of Kazimierz he was about to see. He had been so excited he hadn't even slept properly.
"Lead the way," Yujin said, looking at the butler.
The butler let out a hearty laugh and nodded. "With pleasure."
It was time for Yujin to truly inherit the Nearl blade.
========================
The website for reading paid chapters is available on my Patreon. The number of chapters on Patreon: 79
Link: patreon.com/UltraMagnus_T