Brian, the right hand of Sword Saint Klaus, sat quietly inside the isolated room of the public infirmary.
The room was small, windowless, and dimly lit by a single mana lamp fixed into the ceiling. The air inside felt heavy, not because of any obvious pressure, but because of the man seated within it.
Anyone with even a little experience would instinctively know that this was not a normal knight.
Will recognized him the instant he stepped inside.
In the entire novel, there was only one man who carried a broken sword everywhere he went as if it were sacred.
Not a replacement, not a replica, but the same shattered blade, strapped to his side no matter where he went.
Readers said that he was an insane sword maniac who was sentimental about a broken sword. That man was sitting across from him now.
Will sat down without hesitation. He chose a relaxed posture, neither stiff nor careless, letting his shoulders rest naturally while keeping his back straight.
His hands rested loosely on his thighs, fingers still, breathing even. On the outside, he looked like a calm teenage shop owner recovering from an accident. On the inside, his thoughts were anything but that.
Brian did not speak immediately.
His eyes moved carefully, taking in every detail of the boy in front of him. He looked at Will's shoulders first, then his arms hidden beneath the infirmary robe, then his hands.
He watched how Will sat, how he shifted his weight slightly without fidgeting, how his breathing remained steady. His gaze lingered on Will's eyes, searching for fear, confusion, or nervousness.
There was none, as if the incident had nothing to do with him.
Inside Brian's mind, a familiar presence stirred.
"This kid smells like sword."
Brian did not react outwardly. Years of experience had taught him how to hide his thoughts even from those around him. Instead, he answered the voice in his mind calmly.
"Oh? Why do you think so?" Brian asked internally. "He looks like a normal teen to me."
If Will's true build had not been hidden by the loose infirmary robe, Brian would have immediately noticed the unnatural balance of his body.
Even so, something about the way Will sat felt wrong. Too stable and too controlled. His posture was not something learned overnight.
Brian's fingers brushed the hilt of the broken sword at his side without him even realizing it.
"He has the body," the voice replied. "And the posture. This isn't someone who picked up a blade recently. It feels like someone who has swung a sword for hundreds of years."
Will's expression did not change, but his thoughts did.
"So he really is talking to that sword" Will realized.
In the novel, Brian possessed a rare talent that allowed him to communicate with weapons, especially swords.
It was not something flashy, but it made him terrifyingly accurate in his judgments. Many people underestimated him because he lived in Klaus's shadow, but Brian was a monster of his own league.
Brian finally spoke aloud.
"My name is Donald," he lied in a calm, measured tone. "I am a knight stationed at the outer rim of the capital. I am here to ask you about the incident that occurred last night."
"tsk.. Liar, he is testing me if I can read his intentions" Will thought instantly, but his face remained neutral.
Brian continued, his voice steady. "Please tell me everything you remember."
As he spoke, Brian released a thin layer of pressure from his aura. It was not violent, just enough to make an ordinary person uncomfortable. Enough to cause shallow breathing or nervous movement and to expose lies.
Brian had initially assumed Will was unawakened. After all, the boy ran a dessert shop in the outer circle and lived above it. Nothing about his background suggested otherwise.
But now, Brian was no longer sure. He could not sense Will's rank clearly. Worse, he could not read his emotional state properly.
Suspicion began to grow.
Will felt the pressure but showed no reaction. The skill he had purchased earlier worked quietly, smoothing his heartbeat, controlling his breathing, suppressing any subconscious response.
He spoke calmly.
"Last night, during the storm, I went outside to fix the drain screen behind my shop in the alleyway," Will said. "It had been clogging for days, and the rain made it worse.
When I returned, I saw two men fighting a black-robed figure. Before I could understand what was happening, the robed man released a powerful sword attack. Everything around us was destroyed. I was hit by the shockwave and lost consciousness."
The story had gaps. There were details missing. But Will delivered it smoothly, without hesitation or emotional spikes. His eyes did not dart. His hands did not tremble.
Brian watched him closely even under pressure, the boy did not waver.
Inside Brian's mind, the voice spoke again.
"That slash came from him. I know it."
Brian frowned slightly.
"So that's all you remember?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir Donald," Will replied.
Brian stood up slowly. His movements were deliberate, controlled. He took one last look at Will before speaking.
"Be careful," Brian said. "The capital is full of people who pretend to be weak and harmless until they reveal their true colors."
With that, he turned and left the room.
Will remained seated for several seconds after the door closed. Only then did he exhale softly.
"Seems like he wasn't convinced," Will muttered.
[ouch!! That line hurt] the system commented.
[He suspects you.]
"Of course he does," Will replied calmly. "That man isn't stupid."
He stood up slowly.
"Looks like I've caught attention earlier than expected."
[Those peaceful days of making chocolate and flirting with teen girls might be over soon.]
Will smiled faintly. "I never planned on living peacefully after choosing the path of revenge."
He spoke, remembering the beating heart of his kin that was once placed on his lap as decoration. His emotions were far from anger, his heart was cold, cold enough for him to risk his life and take on the mission to shake the universe itself.
As he left the infirmary, his thoughts briefly returned to the ruined shop.
"The repairs will cost a fortune," he sighed.
***
Meanwhile, at the site of the destruction, Sword Saint Klaus stood silently.
The ruined street stretched before him, buildings split apart cleanly, bodies of two C ranked warriors cleaved with frightening precision. This was not the work of a rampaging beast or an uncontrolled attack.
It was a deliberate and swift strike, and he was quite familiar with this type of attack, mana particles hummed in the air hinting him at the source.
"Whispering Breeze Slash…" Klaus muttered under his breath. "This has to be it ..."
Behind him, Ethan stood quietly, his eyes scanning the destruction. His gaze lingered on a broken signboard lying in the rubble.
Infinity Choco House.
"What is choco?" he wondered silently.
Suddenly, a faint breeze passed through the ruined street.
In the next moment, Brian appeared beside Klaus and leaned in close, whispering something in his ears.
Klaus's brows tightened immediately, meanwhile Ethan sensed the unease.