In the corridor leading to the Hall of Sword Pinnacles, a man in a jet-black uniform stood before a tightly shut iron door. He bowed respectfully to the approaching Julius and presented the two wooden swords he carried.

One was an ordinary adult-sized wooden sword. The other was meant for a child, but was much shorter than usual. Kyle immediately recognized that it had been made to fit him.

"What are the wooden swords for?"

The iron door opened. Kyle grinned as he asked the question on his way into the Hall of Sword Pinnacles. Julius found his grandson's question adorable and chuckled.

"The only games I know involve swords. Surely you weren't expecting your grandfather to give you a ride on his shoulders?"

"That sounds fun too, but I think playing with swords would be more fun."

They really did understand each other. Kyle answered with sparkling eyes. The wooden sword he had been handed was certainly easier to handle than the one he had used against Lucia earlier. Its length was just right, as was its weight. His body was still far too immature, however, for him to lose himself entirely in the sword.

[GRRR...]

As he gave the wooden sword a few swings, he suddenly heard a beast growling.

Fenris was still embedded in the floor of the Hall of Sword Pinnacles. Black smoke swirled around it, and he could vaguely make out the shape of a wolf. He hadn't even gone particularly close to it, much less tried to grasp its hilt.

'What are you looking at, asshole?'

The damned mutt's eyes were fixed on the wooden sword in Kyle's hand. It wasn't content merely to stare, either. Hearing it growl as though threatening him was thoroughly irritating.

'Are you jealous or something?'

It had tried to bite him when he actually reached for it. Now it didn't like him holding another sword? Selfish bastard. With that thought, Kyle ignored Fenris's gaze and swung his wooden sword even more ostentatiously.

"So, how should we play?"

"Well, now."

TAP. TAP.

Julius tapped the floor with the wooden sword hanging at his side as he spoke.

"I gave you a wooden sword because sword games are the only ones your grandfather knows. But I've never played with a child as young as you, so I don't know how to go about it."

"How about a sword fight?" Kyle asked with a bright smile.

"A sword... fight?"

"Yes. A sword fight."

"You're asking your grandfather to play at sword fighting with you?"

"Yes."

Julius laughed in disbelief, looking from his wooden sword to Kyle and back again. He had thought he might teach the boy a little about swinging a sword. He had never imagined his grandson would suggest a 'sword fight.'

"Do you know who I am?"

"My grandfather."

"Before that, I am the head of House Alastor. Do you know what that means?"

"You're the strongest person here."

"Why only here?"

"There might be stronger people out in the world. I haven't met them yet."

"Haha..."

That was excessively frank. Should he scold the boy for his insolence? The remark certainly warranted it, but Julius had no desire to do so. He gazed steadily into Kyle's seemingly innocent eyes and spoke.

"You're right. The world is vast, and there are many powerful people in it."

In this age, there were ten superhumans, Julius among them, known as the Ten Greats. Opinions varied over which of them was the strongest, for they had never fought one another with their lives on the line.

"Why don't you fight each other?"

"Because we all have too much to lose."

Julius answered with a bitter smile. He himself bore the weight of House Alastor on his shoulders.

"And because these are peaceful times. On the surface, at least. That is why there are no all-out wars, nor must there be any. If I were to fight an all-out battle against another of the Ten Greats, the others would intervene. Or they would try to reap the benefits for themselves."

A peaceful age. The Ten Greats might be called superhumans, but they were shackled by their backgrounds, politics, and the prevailing state of affairs.

Kyle understood Julius's words inwardly. The more entanglements one had, the less freely one could move. In his previous life, the Crow Mercenaries had grown so large that Kyle could no longer live as he pleased, and he had quit as their commander.

If even a mercenary company had been such a heavy, cumbersome burden, how much worse must a noble house be?

"Then, since you have so much to lose, Grandfather, does that mean you can't have a sword fight with me either?"

"That's... not the same, you clever little rascal."

Julius chuckled and raised his wooden sword.

"It's just that I've never played with swords with anyone as young as you. I haven't the slightest idea how to do it."

"I'll try attacking you."

Kyle grinned and raised his wooden sword.

"You try blocking my attacks. How does that sound?"

"Haha..."

The boy was speaking that way to Julius, one of the continent's Ten Greats, who stood alongside the Sword Cult's leader as one of the two foremost masters of the sword. How on earth was he supposed to respond? Even Julius had no answer, so all he could do was laugh softly.

"Very well. Try attacking me."

Julius held his sword low and waited for Kyle to attack. His stance was entirely relaxed. His shoulders hung loosely, and even his balance was casually maintained. To all appearances, he was merely holding a sword in one hand.

An 'attack' was not difficult. One simply approached within sword range and swung. Or thrust. Whether it succeeded or not, any movement that threatened an opponent could be called an attack.

And yet, though all he had to do was approach and swing or thrust, Kyle did not move. He stood still, studying Julius's eyes—no, his entire body. Julius did not hurry his silent grandson. He simply stood and waited.

"Grandfather."

After standing with his sword raised for some time, doing nothing but twitching rather than attacking, his grandson finally spoke.

"There's nowhere to attack."

"...!"

"We can't play like this. Give me somewhere to attack."

An impudent demand.

And an astonishing one. Julius stared at Kyle with his mouth hanging open. Only after barely managing to settle his emotions did he find his voice.

"There's nowhere... to attack?"

"No. I can't see anywhere."

"You... can see that?"

"Yes."

It was absurd.

The boy couldn't see anywhere to attack? Of course he couldn't. Julius had no openings.

He might be holding a wooden sword, and his opponent might be his five-year-old grandson, but Julius was the head of House Alastor. He was a superhuman numbered among the continent's Ten Greats. Even when he was merely standing in a relaxed, effortless stance, Julius Alastor had no weaknesses to exploit.

That was perfectly natural, but the person who had pointed it out was a mere five-year-old child. One who claimed to have held a sword for the first time today, at that.

He had watched the boy fight Lucia earlier. His grandson undoubtedly possessed a gift for the sword.

It had been remarkable talent, but Julius was even more astonished now than he had been then.

Rather than attacking recklessly under the pretext of playing, his young grandson had calmly tried to find an opening in Julius's defenses.

That meant he clearly understood what he should do when facing an opponent, and how he ought to attack.

"..."

Julius closed his mouth and lowered his sword all the way down. He was no longer holding it ready. To all appearances, he was full of openings. Yet Kyle still did not rush him. Instead, he frowned and puffed out his cheeks.

"I asked you to give me an opening. Why are you making it even harder to attack?"

"Ha..."

Julius could only laugh. His grandson was not merely looking at his stance. He could even sense the pressure Julius was subtly giving off.

Five years old. Too young to have awakened his spiritual root. Some naturally sensitive children could sense mana even without a spiritual root, but his grandson's 'senses' went far beyond that. Such keen perception belonged to a seasoned warrior who had wielded a sword for years and repeatedly skirted death.

Julius gently raised his sword. His stance shifted slightly. The tension in his muscles changed, subtly altering the pressure he gave off. He deliberately created an opening that might invite an attack.

'This old man...'

Kyle sensed an opening at Julius's left thigh. But it only looked that way. It was far too obvious a trap. If he eagerly thrust his sword at it, he would face an immediate counterattack.

Knowing that, Kyle nevertheless strode forward. The moment he reached striking distance, he thrust his sword, first aiming for the opening Julius had deliberately offered. Sure enough, Julius countered at the exact moment Kyle thrust.

CLACK!

Julius's eyes trembled ever so slightly. Rather than completing his thrust, Kyle had blocked Julius's sword. Julius had intended to give his young grandson a light tap on the shoulder with his wooden sword. Now he asked in a voice full of surprise,

"Why did you stop your thrust?"

"You weren't going to let me finish it."

"You saw through that?"

"Is that supposed to be difficult?"

Kyle answered sulkily. This was a game. Julius was accommodating his young grandson. Naturally, if he wielded his sword in earnest, Kyle as he was now would faint from the pressure he gave off, never mind find an opening.

That knowledge needled Kyle's pride—the Sword Demon's pride. If only he could, he would have liked to face Julius with the body of his previous life, in his prime.

"You're playing dirty, Grandfather."

Kyle grumbled, still looking sulky.

"You pretended to give me somewhere to attack, but you were trying to hit me. If I'd fallen for it and thrust, your sword would have hit me."

"Haha..."

Julius felt a delight that set his heart racing. How long had it been since he had felt this way? When he first saw Cartan take up a sword and swing it? When Katarina's swordsmanship exceeded his expectations?

No—it was a far greater delight than either. His five-year-old grandson was surpassing his expectations by an enormous margin, in the happiest possible way.

"So, are you not enjoying playing with your grandfather?"

Ordinarily, he would have composed his expression to preserve his dignity as head of the house. Now, the thought did not even occur to him. He asked Kyle with a smile that would not leave his face.

"No, it's fun. It's so fun it makes me angry."

"Angry? Why does it make you angry?"

"I'm angry that I'm so young."

Kyle answered honestly.

"If I were older, I'd be able to wield a sword better. With longer arms and legs, and a longer sword than this."

"..."

"I haven't even awakened my spiritual root yet, and I haven't learned a mana cultivation method. I haven't learned any sword techniques either. That's why I'm angry and frustrated."

"What about it makes you so angry and frustrated?"

"My body won't move the way I want it to."

Kyle answered with a deep sigh.

"Look. My arms and legs are already shaking. And my head hurts too."

It was true. Had Kyle treated his confrontation with Julius as nothing more than a 'game,' swinging his sword with little cries of 'Hyah!' as befitted a five-year-old, he would not have been nearly so exhausted. But despite calling it a game, Kyle had faced Julius as though entering a real battle.

As he stood before Julius, who offered not a single opening, his five-year-old body had tensed. His muscles kept trying to contract, his fine hairs stood on end, and his entire body tingled. Rather than merely looking at the sharp sword that was Julius, Kyle had tried to become a sword himself and clash against him.

All of that had overloaded his immature body. Kyle wiped the cold sweat beading on his forehead. His head spun, and his whole body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton. Finally, he sank to the floor with a deep sigh.

"If I were older, I could have had even more fun playing with you, Grandfather..."

At those words,

"Haha... Hahaha!"

Julius could not help laughing out loud. His grandson's cheeky remark was both ridiculous and adorable. Laughing heartily, Julius set down his wooden sword.

"Did you say that if you were older, you would be able to wield a sword better than you do now?"

Julius sensed that his grandson was not merely whining or complaining. The boy genuinely resented the fact that he was only five years old.

"Do you think you could wield it better than your grandfather?"

Julius's eyes flashed sharply. His other grandchildren—no, even his eldest son, Cartan—would have struggled to breathe under that gaze, let alone meet his eyes.

"Well."

Yet his five-year-old grandson did not avert his eyes. Cold sweat streamed down him, and his whole body twitched as it instinctively tried to shrink back. Even so, Kyle answered clearly.

"We'll have to wait until then to find out."

It was an impudent answer, but one that delighted Julius beyond measure.

"Arian has given birth to a treasure."

Julius murmured the words with a hearty laugh.