Chapter 78
At last, Chief Instructor Harken announced the confirmed date for the Pallas family delegation’s visit to the training grounds.
Most of the trainees wore expressions filled with anticipation and excitement—and, to some extent, the tension of meeting new rivals—as they devoted themselves to practice in the training yard.
“When’s it supposed to be?”
“Probably sometime soon.”
“I heard the Pallas family members are incredibly glamorous and impressive… What if we end up looking shabby in comparison?”
“They say a lot of their spear trainees came too! Do you think we’ll get to see the spear heirs of the Pallas martial house?”
The trainees chatted endlessly, caught between excitement and anxiety about the upcoming visit.
But—
“…Tch.”
Seron clicked his tongue in clear annoyance, shaking his head.
“Why the attitude, Seron? You should be happy your cousin’s coming after so long.”
Mayrin laughed lightly and patted his shoulder.
“I’m not exactly thrilled. I barely have enough time to focus on my own training as it is. Wasting any of it is just that—a waste.”
Seron, who had long since decided to become the strongest swordsman, now carried himself with a far different air than before. He was utterly devoted to his training.
Mayrin nodded, smiling knowingly.
“Oh, so that’s it? Here I thought you were annoyed because of that overly cheerful, hopelessly optimistic young master.”
“…Are you talking about yourself?”
Seron looked at her, deadpan, while Mayrin gave him a disbelieving glare.
“What?”
She raised one brow and barked sharply,
“You’d better explain what you mean right now, or else today you’re gonna—!”
She clenched her fists threateningly, but Seron only muttered indifferently,
“You and that guy always got along, didn’t you? Both of you love sticking your noses into other people’s business.”
“Hey! I wasn’t meddling! I was looking out for people. There’s a difference!”
Mayrin puffed up indignantly, but Seron just shrugged.
“Same thing.”
“Ugh…”
With a deep sigh, she cracked her neck and shoulders.
“So this is your way of saying you want a proper spar, huh?”
“…”
As she exaggeratedly limbered up, Seron said in a calm tone,
“But, Mayrin, isn’t the real headache yours?”
“Huh? Mine? Why?”
Mayrin tilted her head in confusion.
“Did you forget what Arne proposed to you back then?”
“Oh, that? Please, that was just a childish joke.”
“A joke?”
Seron gave her a quiet, heavy look.
“You really think so?”
“What kind of question is that? You think Arne was serious about marrying me or something? I turned him down properly, anyway. Nothing like that’s ever gonna happen.”
“If that’s how you feel, then fine.”
Seron nodded lightly as if respecting her view, which somehow irritated Mayrin even more.
“Ugh, there you go again, talking nonsense! Stop yapping and get back to swinging that sword.”
But then—
“Mayrin.”
Seron spoke again, this time more seriously.
“I’m not saying this because he’s my cousin, but Arne’s resolve… it’s far greater than you think. You’ll understand once you see him soon enough.”
“…What?”
Mayrin blinked, uneasy at his tone. But that was as far as the conversation went.
“The Pallas family’s visit will begin soon. Everyone, focus on your training!”
At Harken’s firm command, the trainees refocused their attention.
Not long after—
Creaaak.
The doors to the training ground opened, revealing the long-awaited guests.
“This way, please.”
Following Chief Instructor Harken’s lead, the Pallas delegation entered.
Unlike the elegant and dazzling impression they’d given when first visiting the main estate of [Vanaphen], today they radiated a sharper, sterner air—silver armor gleaming, tall spears held upright.
“Those are them?”
“They look younger than I expected.”
The trainees murmured among themselves.
Since the delegation was mostly composed of young spear trainees, they were indeed similar in age to the Linegrime students.
Thwack!
Of course, not everyone cared about their arrival. Seron and Selena continued training as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Mayrin, who had been talking to Seron earlier, had now glued herself beside Luin, asking eagerly,
“Luin, am I doing this Infernal Sword Form right?”
Then, at the front of the group, a boy with sunlit golden hair and bright amber eyes looked around the yard, exclaiming with cheerful awe,
“So this is the famous Linegrime training hall where the Northern elite are raised!”
He turned toward the trainees and smiled warmly.
“It truly lives up to its reputation.”
“…Thank you.”
Harken bowed respectfully in response to Arne Pallas’s genuine tone of admiration.
The Pallas delegation followed as Harken guided them around, Arne’s eyes gleaming with both curiosity and sharp observation.
Then—
“Seron!”
Spotting someone, Arne lifted his hand high and called out with delight.
Seron paused mid-swing, sighed in mild irritation, and turned.
“…Arne.”
The two were cousins, familiar with each other since childhood.
“It’s been forever! How’ve you been?”
“I’m in the middle of training.”
Seron’s curt reply didn’t faze Arne.
“Oh, sorry. But come on, it’s been ages. Can’t you take a short break and talk?”
He smiled, unbothered, and added,
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to visit this place. Oh, by the way—Mayrin’s here too, right?”
Seron sighed, clearly fed up, and nodded.
“She’s here.”
“Oh, where? Where is she?”
When Arne began searching eagerly, Seron gestured lazily.
“Over there.”
There stood a beautiful blonde girl, immersed in her sword training.
“Ah, Mayriiinn—huh?!”
Arne started toward her but froze, narrowing his eyes as he noticed something.
Then, in a suddenly cold voice, he asked,
“Seron.”
“What now?” Seron groaned.
Arne ignored his tone and demanded in a low voice,
“Who’s that guy next to her?”
“…”
“I said, who the hell is that bastard next to Mayrin?!”
The sunny warmth vanished from Arne’s face, replaced by a burst of fury. Everyone nearby turned toward them.
But Arne didn’t care.
“Answer me, Seron! Who is he?!”
“…Luin Linegrime,” Seron finally replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
“He’s the strongest one here.”
“What… Luin Linegrime?”
Arne frowned, confused by the unfamiliar name.
“He’s the strongest? Even stronger than you?”
“…Yeah.”
“What?!”
Arne stared in disbelief. Seron simply shook his head.
“Got your answer? Then kindly get lost.”
“Ah… right. Sorry. See you later, Seron.”
Arne forced a sheepish smile and backed off, his earlier rage dissolving as quickly as it had come.
Watching this, several members of the delegation—including Spearmaster Kaicel—rubbed their temples.
Seron, meanwhile, returned to training with a satisfied look, as if he’d successfully rid himself of a nuisance.
“Whew…”
Taking a deep breath, Arne composed himself and strode confidently toward Mayrin and Luin—like a hero reclaiming what was his.
But—
“Hey. Can’t you see I’m training right now? Turn around and leave while I’m being polite.”
Thud!
“Ma-Mayrin?!”
Arne froze, collapsing to the ground in shock.
“Lord Arne!”
His attendants rushed to his side, helping him up. But Arne just stood there, blank-eyed, utterly defeated.
“…Ah, youth,” murmured Chief Instructor Harken quietly, watching the scene.
Kaicel bowed in embarrassment.
“My apologies. Our young master tends to… act without thinking.”
“No need to apologize,” Harken said kindly. “It’s natural for youths of his age.”
Indeed, Arne Pallas’s unrequited crush on Mayrin had long been infamous. His inability to control himself where she was concerned was practically a running joke.
“Well then, shall we continue the tour?”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Kaicel nodded, leading the others after Harken.
Yet his attention kept drifting—to the quiet trainee beside Mayrin.
That boy radiated a strange calm, an eerie stillness like the eye of a storm—Luin Linegrime.
Weren’t Seron, Selena, and Mayrin supposed to be their only prodigies?
Kaicel had studied the Linegrime trainees beforehand, yet he’d never heard of Luin. His curiosity sharpened.
So that’s the one Seron said was the strongest here…?
Kaicel knew Seron’s pride well enough to realize—if Seron acknowledged someone as stronger, it meant something.
I’ll need to keep an eye on that one.
By mid-tour—
“I apologize, Master Kaicel,” said Arne, finally recovered.
“No need. Everyone struggles to control their emotions at times. Just don’t repeat the same mistake.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
Arne took a steady breath, regaining composure.
“The trainees here truly are remarkable.”
“…Indeed.”
“But, Master, since we’re here… could we perhaps test our skills against them?”
Despite his earlier apology, Arne’s fighting spirit was already flaring again.
Kaicel sighed inwardly and glanced toward the source of that burning gaze—Luin.
Arne was still glaring at him like a predator eyeing prey.
If asked who the strongest Linegrime trainee was, everyone in the Pallas delegation would name Seron. His genius was widely rumored, even outside the family.
Yet Kaicel wasn’t so sure anymore.
There’s something different about that boy.
“Master?” Arne pressed.
Kaicel closed his eyes briefly in thought, then opened them.
“…Very well. I’ll make the request.”
“Thank you, Master!”
Kaicel approached Chief Instructor Harken.
“Excuse me, Instructor Harken.”
“Yes? Is something the matter?”
Kaicel spoke politely.
“If it’s not too presumptuous, I’d like to make a proposal.”
“A proposal?”
“Yes. How about a friendly match between our young talents—an opportunity to test their skills and strengthen the bond between our houses?”
“‘Strengthen the bond,’ you say…”
Harken smiled knowingly, then nodded decisively.
“Very well.”
“Huh?”
Kaicel blinked, surprised by the ease of his acceptance.
Then Harken continued smoothly,
“No need to be roundabout. A sparring match is always welcome. Shall we each select a representative and have them duel?”
He seemed almost too ready—as if he’d been waiting for this.
Why do I feel like I just walked into a trap? Kaicel thought, uneasy.
But outwardly, he kept his composure and smiled.
“If you don’t mind, we’d be honored.”
Harken nodded and signaled to the instructors.
“Prepare for a friendly duel between the House of Linegrime and the House of Pallas!”
