Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

“Why is the practice armor like this? It might be more expensive than the armor worn by the knights of our family…”

Normally, practice armor didn’t fetch such a high price. After all, it was simply made from materials suited to absorb impacts during training with wooden swords.

However, Aira soon realized that the armor she was wearing wasn’t ordinary the moment she accepted it.

“This is a mana tool, isn’t it?”

The faint mana flowing from the armor was emanating from the mana stones embedded as decorations throughout the armor.

It not only absorbed shock but also resisted impacts, absorbed and decomposed sweat, and even provided minor assistance in stamina recovery.

“Why go so far for something disposable like armor…?”

Like practice swords, such armor was meant to be discarded rather than repaired once it wore out. Being a consumable item, there was no need to incur heavy costs.

Yet here was armor modified into a mana tool.

Aira, realizing that her family’s financial prowess was beyond imagination, looked at Christian, who was lightly mumbling while caressing the mana stones in the armor.

“Should I secretly take a mana stone from this?”

“If you get caught for theft, don’t expect me to acknowledge knowing you.”

“You’re so cold. I was joking.”

“It doesn’t sound like a joke when it comes from you.”

Aira, who knew all too well that Christian often said things first without thinking, couldn’t bring herself to take his remark as mere jest.

Having finished donning her armor and picking up a practice sword, Aira sighed, finally realizing that the real sparring was about to begin.

“I’m a bit nervous thinking about the sparring.”

“Nervous? Afraid you might cripple your opponent?”

“Well, there is that, too…”

“Ah, so there is…”

Christian felt a bit awkward as Aira took his joke seriously. Regardless, Aira continued speaking.

“This isn’t our home, it’s my maternal family’s sparring… Even a small mistake could dishonor Mother’s name…”

“Not just your mother but the entire family, too.”

“Yes, the family as well.”

At that moment, it seemed to Aira that her mother took precedence over her family, something understandable given how hard she had worked to gain her mother’s recognition.

“Just do as you normally would. You’re only facing some kids; no need to be nervous.”

“Kids? The opponents are older than us, aren’t they?”

While Aira’s opponent had been assigned as Riley, Christian’s opponent wasn’t specifically designated but was certainly not someone of the same age group.

Evan, knowing that Christian had mastered the ‘wave’, would likely prepare opponents in their twenties.

He didn’t even consider the possibility of another of similar age using waves.

“Whatever happens, just do what you always do, and there will be no problem.”

Aira found Christian’s lack of nervousness both amazing and enviable. With a sly smile, Christian continued to speak.

“Besides, no need to undo the gravity array, right?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Aira took a deep breath to dispel her tension, then fixed a determined gaze on Riley and responded with confidence.

“Plenty.”

*

“Hmm, seems like they’re starting.”

Though reaching seventy, the old man’s gaze was as clear as any youth’s, bright and sharp.

Despite his modest stature, he exuded an aura as grand and imposing as a mountain, and although not a knight, his presence was enough to intimidate those who faced him.

“What do you think?”

Viscount Gael Miles, with hands clasped behind his back, stood peering out the large window of the manor, addressing the man beside him.

The middle-aged man, baron Pascal Rikid, stood silently beside Gael observing the training ground below for a brief moment before finally speaking.

“I believe it’s indeed remarkable.”

“Remarkable?”

Gael, a bit taken aback by such words, stroked his beard while giving Pascal a sidelong glance.

Despite his gaunt physique and severe features creating an impression of perpetual anger, Pascal was neither a taciturn nor an impolite man.

Most importantly, he was known for his skill with the sword, even within the Rondel Kingdom.

Pascal, his eyes still on Aira, responded without glancing back at Gael.

“Which side are you referring to?”

“The Viscount’s granddaughter.”

“Oh?”

This stone-faced man never uttered compliments or flattery, even to himself.

So for him to suddenly praise his granddaughter could not have been for wanting to seem favorable to Gael.

Gael knew that, having known Pascal for those long years, he was genuinely impressed.

“They haven’t even started sparring yet. Can it already be assessed?”

“I’m merely observing what I feel at the moment.”

“The reason?”

“Her body, which has been astonishingly well-trained, has such controlled mana, an attunement to handle it, and superior mana produced by the mana reservoir. It’s impressive.”

“Haven’t heard you speak this much in a while.”

“If it’s uncomfortable, I will refrain.”

“No, it’s just fascinating.”

“Is it fascinating to say the least….”

“I’m not a knight nor trained in such arts. I’ve lived only looking for profits, so I cannot comprehend what that child holds within her, like you can.”

Pascal found it peculiar, knowing Gael as a man whose discerning eye for people was unrivaled not only in Rondel Kingdom but perhaps even the continent.

“Anyhow, you mean to say what she possesses is extraordinary?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Gael, satisfied with Pascal’s confident answer, smiled contentedly. His granddaughter was showcasing such talent that even a stoic knight like him was genuinely impressed.

Suddenly, Gael’s gaze shifted to another person not yet mentioned.

“What about that child?”

In response to Gael’s question, Pascal glanced briefly at Christian before shaking his head.

“Do you wish for a comparison with Miss Aira?”

“Yes.”

“He falls short.”

“Hmm? Falls short?”

“Yes. His mana’s quality and quantity both fall short. While his mana reservoir is unique, its capacity is inadequate, and though his well-trained body clearly reflects his effort, it is nothing extraordinary.”

“But that boy has also mastered waves.”

“Yes. To be honest, I’m astounded at such an achievement at that young age. His talent must indeed be exceptional. Still…”

“But?”

Pascal concisely responded to Gael’s curiosity.

“He falls short, only in comparison to Miss Aira.”

“Oh, then he is skilled as well?”

“Yes, indeed. A child with such talents is rare. The bloodline of the Worden County seems to have fully blossomed in these siblings’ generation.”

“That extent is it now?”

The Worden County was one of the foremost knight families in the Rondel Kingdom.

With a profound history and power dominating the Rangar region, few families could rival it.

These siblings have inherited that family talent wholly, their potential currently impressive, and even more promising for future growth.

Among them, Aira was recognized by Pascal as having exceptional talents, forespoken to potentially lead the Worden County in the coming generation.

It was the reason Gael sent his daughter to marry into the Worden County, investing substantial resources into his granddaughter’s education.

This was the final piece of the puzzle to exert undeniable influence on the Rangar region, setting the Miles Viscounty among the strongest.

Gael’s gaze at Aira was increasingly luminous.

“Nevertheless, there’s something that keeps bothering me.”

“What is it?”

“I fully trust your high regard for my granddaughter’s talent. Still…”

Yet it was a lingering moment. Gael’s intuition as a merchant continuously sent warnings.

“That grandson of the Ferdida Marquisate keeps pricking my mind.”

“So there’s something I’ve missed seeing then.”

“Hmm? Is that so?”

“If you’re suspicious, then likely yes.”

With greater skill in appraising people, Gael came to view them as ‘commodities’, retaining a discerning sense of worth.

If his intuition warned him, it suggested there might be something he’d missed regarding Christian. Pascal respected Gael’s judgment over his own.

“Well, time will reveal it.”

Gael, hands clasped behind his back again, looked out over the training ground below.

For someone like him, who valued time as equivalent to money, this present moment carried expectations of what kind of worth it might hold.