Chapter Title: The Beginning of Training (1)
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A fierce desire to grow stronger.
The first true aspiration of his life was etched into Yuri's mind, and Yohan noticed the change.
'Hmph, I only meant to break his pride... but it looks like I've fanned the spark into a flame.'
Any ordinary person would have despaired or given up in the face of the overwhelming power he'd displayed.
But this kid Yuri had found his goal and motivation in that very power.
And that situation pleased Yohan to no end.
After all, people with drive and purpose grew quickly.
'Well then... shall I toss a log on the fire to keep his spark from dying out?'
Thud.
Turning his body, Yohan looked at Yuri and spoke.
"What I want to verify through you is the effectiveness of this new Demonic Body Technique I've created. Let me say this upfront: it's incomplete."
"..."
"So far, I've built the framework for this new Demonic Body Technique based on my own experience and knowledge... From now on, you and I will work together to add the muscle and flesh to that skeleton."
"..."
"It'll probably be a grueling process that eats up a lot of time. So painful you might want to quit every single day. If you ever want to give up... just run away. I won't stop you. But..."
Yohan paused for a moment, his eyes flashing.
Strength entered his voice.
"If you don't run and endure the whole thing... and if the martial theory I establish through it is completed!"
Sching—clack!
The sword was sucked back into its sheath. Yohan grinned and pointed at Yuri with his index finger.
"Then you, having mastered it, will be able to land a proper hit on my face—not to mention the Sword Lord's."
"..."
After all... that's what this Demonic Body Technique was made for in the first place.
"..."
"So, think you can handle it?"
Yuri tilted his head at Yohan's provocative question.
'Is he seriously calling that a question?'
Run away?
Handle it?
The Unbroken Sword, who had survived two challenges against the Sword Lord.
A Demonic Body Technique crafted from his experiences specifically to counter the Sword Lord.
With a chance to grasp true strength right in front of him, he'd run?
Absurd.
Whoosh—
Heat boiled in Yuri's eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved up slightly.
"Handle it? You sure you can handle it, old man? Once I start something, I don't half-ass it. Don't go crying about being tired or unable to do it later and run off yourself."
"Pfft, hah, you brat, all talk. Fine, let's see who runs first."
Boy and old man.
Golden and gray eyes, strangely similar, clashed in midair, sparking flames.
Their pride-staked staring contest dragged on for quite a while.
Then...
"Old man..."
Yuri's slightly sulky voice cut in.
"You know something?"
"What?"
"I was already planning to leave anyway? That's why I'd scraped together a decent amount of money I'd earned, stuff, food supplies... you know, all sorts of things up to now."
"Oh? Perfect. Grab 'em and head out right away then."
"Yeah, but... they're gone now."
"Huh?"
"Gone, I said. Just vanished."
"...?"
"You blew them all away, old man. Along with that."
Yuri pointed to where the cliff—and his hideout—had been.
"..."
"..."
Silence fell between them.
Whoooosh—
A cold wind blew through the now-empty space where the cliff and mountain had once stood, swirling between Yuri and Yohan.
Facing the wind, Yuri glared wide-eyed.
"Old man."
"..."
"I get showing off your strength... fine! But!"
"..."
"My clothes? My food? And most importantly, the money I've scrimped and saved for 2 years—no, 8 years?!"
As Yuri's voice boomed, Yohan's gaze slowly dropped to the ground.
"Th-that... don't get hung up on such trivial things..."
Yohan tried a timid defense.
"Trivial? TRIVIAL?! You calling the 8 years of my blood and sweat trivial?!"
Hiss!
Seeing the black kitten hissing right in his face, Yohan fully averted his eyes.
And so, the first pride-staked staring contest between Yuri and Yohan...
Hyaack—!
Ended in Yuri's victory amid the nonstop hissing.
* * *
The vanished mountain and cliff.
The gaping empty space left in their place.
Gunter's lips parted slightly at the sight.
'My God?!'
The report had come in early morning: the cliff and mountain had suddenly disappeared.
At first, he thought it was a prank, but it wasn't.
An entire mountain gone overnight.
Seeing it, Ashraf was convinced it was Yohan Redner's doing.
No one else in the area could pull off something like that, he'd said.
Ashraf's certainty shocked Gunter even more.
'Is this really... something a human can do?!'
He'd heard of the master's fame, but he hadn't expected this level.
'If those called masters are like this... just how strong is the Sword Lord, called a transcendent?'
The Sword Lord's power, which had repelled Yohan Redner—perpetrator of this impossible miracle—not once but twice.
Gunter couldn't even imagine it.
Standing there dazed for a long time, Gunter clenched his fist tightly.
Crack.
'Unbroken Sword Yohan Redner, and the Yuri Holland he chose.'
He'd heard they'd left Irons.
While he was holed up in Yoram, Yuri would grow under Yohan Redner's guidance.
And someday... he'd have a strong premonition he'd meet Yuri Holland again.
'That time... I won't lose.'
Yohan had chosen Yuri over him, but not because he was lacking.
He wanted to prove that to the future Yuri Holland.
'I need to push myself even harder.'
That kid would grow fast under the master's systematic, excellent training.
To surpass him, he'd have to train more, work harder.
He steeled his resolve, though he couldn't help a twinge of envy.
"How amazing must the master's training methods be?"
Gunter wore a faintly envious, lonely smile.
He soon wiped it away and returned to the territory.
For today's training.
Looking forward to the day he'd see Yuri again.
* * *
When the sun hung high in the midday sky.
Yuri and Yohan, having left Irons, were preparing lunch in some forest.
"Hmm-hmm~ Hm-hm-hmm-hmm."
Yuri humming a tune.
"..."
Yohan silently furrowing his brow.
Finally unable to take the endless humming, Yohan vented his complaint.
"You clean out my wallet, and this is your idea of treating me? Just some rabbit roast?"
"Ehey, 'just'? Hold on a sec. I'll serve up Yuri Holland's special rabbit roast."
"Even if you gild a rabbit, it's still a gilded rabbit roast. Special my foot..."
"Quit grumbling already? Want some or not?"
"Urgh."
Yohan groaned and shut his mouth, grumbling inwardly.
'That... greedy little punk!'
Yohan had accidentally wiped out Yuri's entire fortune with a very, very minor mistake.
When Yuri kept whining about it, he'd snapped, 'What's the big deal? I'll compensate you!'
That was his second mistake.
As if he'd been waiting for those words, Yuri had emptied Yohan's wallet.
'It couldn't have been half of what I took from him, even if it was his life savings...!'
But the victim Yuri insisted it wasn't enough, glaring and ranting until Yohan tearfully handed over the whole wallet.
Grinding his teeth at his now-thin wallet.
'Travel funds I can withdraw from the bank, sure...'
Beyond that, the fact that he'd—a mere fifteen-year-old brat—been duped soured his mood terribly.
'The great Yohan Redner, scammed by a snot-nosed kid?!'
One thing was now certain.
'With that guy... he won't starve to death even in Yoram.'
Clicking his tongue inwardly, Yohan watched Yuri roast the rabbit with a pleased face.
He was smearing something on it.
"What's that?"
"Oh, this? Dried angora root mixed with various herb powders. Grilling it like this removes all the gamey smell. Seasoned nice too."
Even as he explained, Yuri's hands didn't stop.
The skill to hunt a rabbit in seconds, the processing.
The thriftiness to save the pelt, the way he grilled the meat.
Everything was highly efficient and deft.
Far beyond his age.
Yohan's eyes gleamed.
"Where'd you learn that?"
"Learn? Just picked it up over 8 years of scrambling not to starve."
"8 years? Didn't you say you're fifteen this year?"
"Yeah, right."
"Huh... wandering the world alone since you were seven? Where's your hometown?"
"Dunno."
"You don't know your hometown?"
"Left the village I was in and just wandered. Kept struggling to survive and ended up in Irons."
"Huh..."
Surprise crossed Yohan's face.
The continent was at peace under the Sword Lord's rule with no great wars, but the world was still no picnic for a lone seven-year-old.
Even with transcendent Incarnation power, surviving alone was another matter.
An Incarnation didn't hunt food or earn money for you.
'No wonder he's such a worldly old soul for a kid... he learned the ways of the world early.'
A child who saw the world's filth and lost his innocence.
That was Yuri now.
Yohan stared at him for a moment before asking.
"Parents?"
"If I had those, would I be in this mess?"
"They're dead?"
"Dunno."
"What do you know, then?"
"How should I know if the parents who ditched me are dead or alive?"
"..."
"There was this old hag who picked me up and raised me... but she died 8 years ago. Don't go pitying me—we weren't exactly close."
Yohan's words failed him at Yuri's utterly nonchalant tone.
'I figured as much from his initial wariness and personality...'
But Yuri had apparently weathered the world harder than he'd thought.
As Yohan fell silent with that realization, Yuri shot back with peeved eyes.
"What's with the sudden interrogation?"
At the sharp reaction, Yohan relaxed his stiff face and teased.
"If you die, gotta send you back to your family's arms in your hometown, right?"
"Ack, jinx! Spit! Spit three times quick!"
"Pfft."
"Don't jinx me! Why would I die? Spit already!"
Their bickering continued for a good while after, until the meat looked mouthwateringly done.
Yuri, who bit into it first with cheeks full, asked.
"So, that experiment or training or whatever... when do we start?"
His eyes sparkled as he tossed the question.
Sure, the old coot was sketchy as hell, but his power and fame were the real deal for a master.
What would he teach first?
What grand master-level training awaited?
He hoped it would be a meaningful start toward true strength.
His heart raced with anticipation.
As if reading that hope, Yohan grinned and replied.
"No need to rush—I was planning to start today anyway. Heh heh heh, eat up and rest well. It's your last supper."
"Sounds promising."
"Don't go bawling you can't do it later."
"No chance."
Yuri replied with a firm, confident face.
But it didn't take long for that confident expression to change.
A moment later.
Yuri alternated stares between Yohan and the object behind him.
"Old man, what's that?"
"What, never seen a cart before?"
Gruffly answering, Yohan patted the rickety cart.
He'd gone somewhere briefly and returned dragging this ancient thing that barely rolled.
Yuri tilted his head at the response.
"Like I'd never seen one. Why'd you bring it? We don't have enough luggage to need a cart."
No sooner had he spoken than Yohan snickered.
He hopped onto the cart quick, hooked his prosthetic leg on the railing, and declared.
"Now, pull!"
Yuri blanked at the majestic command.
Naturally, he asked to confirm he'd heard right.
"...This? Me pull it?"
"Who else? You think I'll do it?"
"Why should I pull it?"
Arms crossed, Yohan answered the primal question.
"Tsk tsk, foolish child. Know what you're most lacking right now?"
Yuri pondered briefly before answering.
"Mana, probably?"
What came back was a snort full of mockery.
"Pfft? Manaaa? What kinda nonsense are you spouting? What you're most lacking is stamina—stamina!"
"What're you talking about? My stamina's great!"
"Sure, compared to a normie. But the ones you'll compete with carry boulder-sized rocks for three days and nights over dozens of kilos without breaking a sweat. Compared to them, you're a total weakling!"
"W-weakling stamina?"
"If you wanna live, you'll build your body and energy steadily from now on! That's how you'll harmonize with your soul. So quit yapping and pull when I say pull!"
"I'm not a damn ox."
"Don't worry. I'll make you run better than a horse soon enough. Kuh huh huh. Now hustle, you gonna dilly here?"
Thud—thud!
Yohan's prosthetic leg smacked the cart repeatedly.
It screamed his intent: he wasn't getting off.
Yuri's eyes narrowed.
"...Old man, just to check."
"What?"
"You're not just pulling this 'training' crap 'cause you don't wanna walk, right?"
"..."
"That's it, isn't it?"
"..."
"Isn't it?"
Yohan didn't answer Yuri's repeated questions.
Instead, he averted his gaze slightly, smacked the cart with his prosthetic again, and bellowed.
"Hey! What do you know, you punk?! Back in my day, if the master told me to eat shitwater, I'd guzzle it without a word, you brat!"
"...Disgustingly real."
"You little shit, do as you're told! What's with the backtalk?!"
Look at him.
Yuri was speechless at the utterly contrived, boomer-rage shout.
'What? Master-level training? Meaningful first step?'
None of that.
No, he shouldn't have expected anything to begin with.
"You punk, what're you waiting for?! Can't do it? Gonna quit? Over this? Tsk tsk, I picked the wrong guy!"
Yohan hollered, needling him relentlessly.
Watching that act, Yuri was firmly convinced.
'This old coot... is totally a cult leader.'
The master can go freeze.