Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

During the time when Christian wandered the continent training with his master.

The northern Granier Empire had fallen, and with the rise of demi-humans and the dragonkin, traitors of humanity, the northern continent had truly become an infernal hell.

Yet, even in such a hellish place, there were people who survived…

“Wow, so you’re Christian! I’ve heard so much about you from Aira. Haha! Just as I heard, you’re quite short!”

“Uh-huh!”

The pat on his back was as similar to his master Aira’s as could be. Not only that, the ‘Mercenary King’ seemed to be a perfect match with Aira, having very similar personalities.

Despite the age difference, they appeared to be companions who survived together in hell, living like friends.

However, even so, Nemea Robran was perceived by Christian as much more adult than his master.

Unlike his master, he seemed to be around 180cm tall, and the scars crisscrossing his eyes along with numerous marks on his body left a powerful impression on the young Christian.

Most importantly, the unique techniques Nemea employed were original creations, honed through what she discovered in the battlefield that was hell.

Aira, his master, greatly appreciated those aspects of her, contributing to a deep friendship that was significant.

And to Christian, she was the most memorable ‘aunt’.

Perhaps that was why…

*

“Why are you so short?! And what’s with your hair color?!”

Nemea, who used to be comfortably over 180cm tall, seemed 20 cm shorter. Her hair, once red as if stained with blood, had turned a pale pink.

Christian, dodging Lena’s attacks with disbelief, shouted desperately, almost as if coughing up blood. In response, Lena retorted angrily.

“What about my height?! I’m still growing, okay?!”

“What do you mean?! Your growth period ended ages ago!”

“What do you know about my age?! Who are you to decide my growth period is over?!”

Lena, swinging her sword relentlessly, suddenly stepped back a few steps from Christian, her body frozen.

Then, looking at Christian with a pale face and trembling eyes, she asked in a voice full of fear.

“No, but how do you know my real name?! Are you a stalker?!”

“…”

He wanted to ask that himself. Why was she using a fake name and involved in such things here?

There were many questions piled up like a mountain in his mind, but he couldn’t ask them here and now.

“Let’s finish this quickly and have a talk, aunt Nemea.”

“Aunt?! What are you saying? How big do you think the age gap is between us?!”

As Christian sighed and readied his sword, Nemea hesitated, visibly flustered.

An unknown child who knew her real name was coming at her. No one in her affiliated knighthood, nor her employer, knew this fact, so it was natural to be surprised.

Yet, despite Nemea’s anxious demeanor, Christian gathered his mana to its limits, wrapping it around his body. He had many questions and planned to resolve them swiftly.

“Wave Secret Technique.”

Whereas an application utilized basic wave techniques, a transformation focused on altering the nature of wave techniques.

By combining transformation techniques, one could surpass into fusion techniques and eventually create a personalized wave technique.

That was the Wave Secret Technique. Among the secret techniques passed down through the Worden County, High Wind was one, and Christian represented not only the history of the Worden family but also the history of the continent.

Fallen warriors had entrusted Christian, their last hope, with their secret techniques and Ether Weapons, in hopes that should peace return, their secrets would persist through time.

Yet, there weren’t many secret techniques Christian could wield at present. His body couldn’t support them, and his mana was insufficient.

Thus, he chose the weakest of the secret techniques he could demonstrate to Nemea, a token of trust.

“Wolf Assault!”

The Ether Weapon—Wolf of the Dark Night was used to manifest Nemea’s favorite wave secret technique from a past life.

The wave transformed into seven wolves. Each wolf seemed to have a will of its own, freely charging at Nemea Robran.

Though termed a wave secret technique, it wasn’t entirely flawless in nature and transformation.

Hence, there wasn’t a significant difference in power compared to a typical wave application.

Without the lead wolf, the Wolf of the Dark Night, it was merely a shell maintaining the shape of wolves.

“What is this?!”

However, even this proved quite effective.

Even though Nemea created this secret technique in his previous life, with no memory of it now, she had no proper defense against wolves conjured through mana waves attacking her.

“Kyaaah?!”

The wolves, embodied in mana, were not lethal due to reduced power and focus on maintaining form. They merely entangled her temporarily.

“This feels gross! It’s sticky!”

“Since when did you care about such things?!”

However, Christian could not yet fully wield secret techniques at ease, making it difficult to maintain.

Consequently, the binding wave-wolves around Nemea soon drooped, losing form.

“Will you surrender?”

“Uh…”

Nemea tried hard, but she couldn’t escape the wolves’ grip. Eventually, she nodded.

*

“What on earth is that?”

Gael marveled at the peculiar sight of Christian’s wave secret technique Wolf Assault. Responding to his inquiry, Pascal pondered briefly and quietly answered.

“Judging by the pattern, it’s a wave transformation, but none I know of take such a form.”

“Then?”

“It seems to be a self-created technique.”

“Really…?”

Self-created techniques are usually attributed to those with both innate talent and well-honed experience and skill.

Though Christian Worden clearly belonged to the exceptionally talented, it was hard to say if he had the seasoned experience and insight.

Those required time—a weighty entity that money can’t buy.

The concept seemed too unbelievable, causing Gael’s expression to harden. Yet Pascal added calmly.

“It still seems incomplete, though. The duration is short, and the power is weak. For a technique to restrict movement, the mana expenditure is excessive, and the control looks challenging.”

“Indeed, but still, it couldn’t be underestimated.”

“Agreed.”

“Will my granddaughter be ultimately outshone by that boy’s talent?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Not at all? Are you saying a slightly higher mana capacity would let her surpass such talent?”

Despite Gael’s sharp retort, Pascal maintained his unchanging initial stone-like demeanor as he replied calmly.

“It’s nothing but an unconventional step.”

“An unconventional step?”

“And Miss Aira follows the orthodox path.”

“Interesting.”

Finding it difficult to grasp, Gael eyed Pascal with curiosity.

“Talented people sometimes show such unorthodox methods. They step outside of the conventional path to chart their own course. But such a path isn’t always ideal.”

“Why not? Even if others call it unconventional, if it has a clear premise for them, isn’t it another form of orthodoxy?”

“Walking a path no one has ever tried means they, too, don’t know where it leads. It’s more practical to steadily build a foundation with orthodox methods rather than hope for a vague success.”

“Indeed?”

Pascal’s words held logic. Investing based on trends like this offers more stable returns than relying on luck.

Gael assessed Christian’s current situation through the lens of his experience.

Undoubtedly, Christian was a significantly promising investment but only for short, intermittent periods rather than as a long-term asset.

“Christian Worden may seem exceptionally talented, but that’s about it. Miss Aira’s potential is by no means inferior to that of the boy. When he indulges in his talents and engages in unconventional behavior, that’s when we should widen the gap.”

“The world doesn’t always follow intent. What often disrupts that intent are unanticipated factors, like this unconventional step.”

Gael’s eyes were deeply contemplative as he gazed at Christian, bearing a serene admiration.

He was neither skilled in swords nor blessed with mana. Yet, the overwhelming atmosphere enveloping his words was sufficient to tense up Pascal.

“Truly anticipating that child’s future. Isn’t observing such a genius up close heaven’s blessing in itself?”

“… Indeed.”

“But it’s often said that exceedingly brilliant beings are taken early by heaven, perhaps because it wasn’t time for their talents to bloom, not yet.”

Gael smiled softly at Christian. Pascal, overwhelmed by that smile, could offer no words.

“How does it appear to you? Does it look like the child can bloom his talent?”

Pascal found himself unable to answer Gael’s chilling inquiry.

TL’s Corner:
Gael is probably the calatyst to a lot of calamities that happened in Christian’s past life.