The Return of the Talented Monopolist is Special

Six months had passed since the appointment ceremony.

While other continents might be suffering from sweltering heat, the summer in Fenchel remained refreshingly cool.

“Haap!”

“Haap-!”

In the training grounds, Eugene, Raul, the Ince brothers, Eldora, and six other trainees were practicing their stances with wooden swords, letting out sharp cries as they trained.

At 13 years old, Eugene’s body had grown more mature and robust. As a trainee preparing to enter Fenchel’s knight order, he devoted himself entirely to his training.

True to its reputation as a family of swordsmanship, the training regimen was systematic and brutally rigorous.

They would wake up at 6 a.m. and run for six hours straight on an empty stomach.

Then, endure hours in the horse-riding stance under the scorching sun.

They climbed up and down Fenchel’s infamous “Wall of Lamentation,” a cliff at the rear of the estate.

The training primarily focused on building lower body strength and overall balance.

Even minor mistakes often resulted in severe injuries, but they would be treated immediately by highly skilled clerics, only for the trainees to return to the same harsh routine the very next day.

Once the foundational physical training was complete, they would move on to learning swordsmanship and footwork.

The head of training, First Steward “Emacs,” set individualized yet extreme standards for each trainee, relentlessly pushing them beyond their limits without an ounce of mercy.

“I’ve told you hundreds of times: you must act as one, a single entity!”

“Yes!”

“Yes, sir!”

Emacs slowly approached Raul, who was drenched in sweat.

“And yet, you keep moving like two, even three separate individuals.”

Standing tall before Raul, Emacs spoke in an icy tone.

“Raul, what do you hope to gain here at Fenchel?”

“Sir? Ah, excellent swordsmanship and footwork…”

“What nonsense are you spouting? I’ve heard you’re more skilled in spear techniques than swordsmanship. In that case, you shouldn’t be here at Fenchel, a family renowned for swordsmanship.”

Emacs looked down at Raul with a cold expression.

“You should join a family that specializes in spear techniques or return to your own family and hire a spear instructor.”

“But…”

“Yes, but Fenchel accepted you and is insisting on training you in swordsmanship. Do you know why?”

Before Raul could respond, Emacs leaned in close to his ear and shouted.

“There’s only one reason! Why? Because the family head, Lord Clark, and Sir Sirius are merciful!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“And yet, thanks to your lack of focus, you keep breaking Fenchel’s unity, which must remain as one, into two! Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Thud!

Slamming his wooden sword vertically into the ground, Emacs stared directly into Raul’s eyes from just inches away.

“Either leave Fenchel… or respect swordsmanship. Choose one. Understood?”

“Understood, sir…”

Emacs had noticed that Raul’s cries were slightly off-rhythm and that elements of spear techniques kept slipping into his swordsmanship movements.

Straightening his posture, Emacs withdrew his piercing gaze.

“That’s it for today’s basic swordsmanship training. If Trainee Raul repeats the same mistakes, next time all trainees will undergo a grueling two-night, three-day sleepless training session. Understood?”

“…Yes, sir!”

“Dismissed. Rest.”

Tsk.

Clicking his tongue lightly, Emacs glared at Raul for a moment before stepping out of the training grounds.

Eugene, who had been observing the scene, chuckled to himself.

“Spear techniques, swordsmanship, and twice the training as everyone else—no wonder he’s all over the place.”

At just 15 years old, Raul had greater stamina, strength, and aura levels than most of his peers.

“But if he wants to survive in Fenchel, he’ll need to work even harder.”

Of course, Eugene himself had plenty to overcome as a new trainee in Fenchel after passing the Trial of the Lion, but none of the training felt impossible to him.

That was because, from a young age, he had been subjected to grueling and unrestrained training with rough, free-spirited martial arts instructors, constantly pushing through injuries and hardship.

In contrast, Raul had faced fewer hardships growing up. Now, he was burdened by having to master not one but two weapons.

“Still, Raul focusing solely on spear techniques would be a waste. Fenchel’s swordsmanship is an excellent foundation. Even though swordsmanship and spear techniques seem like completely different arts, their ultimate purpose is the same. Mastering both can only be an advantage.”

“Haa…”

Raul lowered his head and wiped his face with his hands. He looked as though he was wallowing in self-pity.

Eugene approached him.

“Are you crying?”

“No, I’m not, man.”

“Your eyes look a little wet, though.”

“It’s sweat, alright? Sweat! Ugh, are you here to make fun of me?”

Over the past year, Eugene and Raul had grown much closer.

Eugene didn’t bother to offer any encouragement or consolation to Raul.

“You need to grow strong so you can become my reliable right-hand man. You’ll be useful to me.”

This purpose had remained unchanged for a year now.

However, after spending so much time together, a certain bond had formed.

“I’ve lived this life chasing a goal no one else knows about. But having people like them around gives me some emotional stability.”

Eugene’s ultimate goals were to exact revenge on the Pontiff of the Sun God Church and to rise as the uncontested ruler of the continent, an absolute force no one could challenge.

Though he had spent 13 years relentlessly pursuing these goals, even Eugene wasn’t immune to weariness.

Yet seeing someone like Raul working hard beside him was a source of motivation and comfort.

Just then—

“Hey, Eugene. No matter how much I practice stabbing, I don’t feel like I’m improving. Take a look at this for me.”

“Sorry, but I’ve been here waiting longer. Ask me after I’m done.”

“What, did you take a number or something? Stop talking nonsense.”

A flood of questions came from the trainees training alongside him.

Over the past year, Eugene had solidified his position as their undisputed leader.

Even some surprising individuals were following him now.

“Move aside.”

It was the Ince brothers.

They shoved the others away, approached Eugene, glanced briefly at Raul, and then addressed him.

“Eugene Robert.”

“What is it?”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

The Ince brothers’ gaze was fixed on Eugene’s arms.

“There you go again, staring at other people’s bodies.”

“We’re asking how you can go through such insane amounts of cardio training and still keep your muscle mass intact while losing only body fat.”

The brothers’ voices had grown much deeper, and their muscles were more impressive than they had been a year ago.

But they weren’t satisfied.

The reason was Eugene.

“Are you curious about the principles, or do you want to know the training methods?”

“To put it simply, we want your secrets.”

“When you put it like that, it feels weird to share. I’ll tell you next time.”

“P-please! We… we need to grow stronger!”

Eugene tilted his head at the way the Ince brothers trailed off.

It wasn’t just that they wanted to grow stronger—they were saying they had to.

He had a vague idea why but brushed it aside.

“It’s not my concern. The Ince brothers aren’t people I plan to take with me to the end anyway.”

He shook his head.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. Just sit down. Let me rest while I explain.”

“Sure!”

“Good.”

Eugene decided his current situation wasn’t bad.

When he had first come to Fenchel, he had only planned to use the family to hone his skills.

But after the appointment ceremony, his position had shifted, and so had his mindset.

“Rather than simply using Fenchel, I’ll make them my allies entirely.”

Even Eldora, who usually feigned indifference, sat down obediently as Eugene had suggested.

As with anything, there was always something that turned out to be more challenging than expected.

Creaaak!

The door to the training hall swung open roughly, drawing the attention of all the trainees inside.

Standing there was a group of towering men, each nearly twice the size of the younger trainees—around a dozen of them in total.

These were the senior trainees, the class immediately above Eugene’s, two or three years older.

At the forefront stood a striking figure who spoke with authority.

“Clean up the first and second floors of the training hall and get out juniors. It’s our time now.”

His sharp nose and chiseled jawline made him stand out. This was Kain, one of the most promising trainees in Fenchel.

Kain, with the Sirius family as his backing, was known for displaying the greatest prowess among the Fenchel trainees.

The younger group, Eugene’s peers, were well aware of this.

“Ah, yes…”

“Understood…!”

Knowing that resisting would neither end well nor achieve anything, the juniors quickly got up and started grabbing cleaning supplies.

The men flanking Kain swept their disdainful gazes over Eugene’s group, clicking their tongues in disapproval.

“Tsk. Back in our day, we didn’t even need to be told. We cleaned everything and aired the place out before leaving.”

“Things are so much easier now. No wonder their skills are mediocre.”

“Look at this! Footprints everywhere. You there, clean that with a wet mop. Ugh.”

The ones sneering most disdainfully stood off to the side, arms crossed, seemingly scheming among themselves.

Eugene, listening to their insults, didn’t rush to react.

The reason? Kain had already spoken first.

“Don’t do this in front of the juniors. Set an example as sa eniors. Don’t let the Head down.”

“Ah…! Right.”

“Ahem, yes, of course.”

At Kain’s single remark, the rowdy men—including the intimidating ones who had been glaring sharply—fell silent.

This demonstrated the weight of Kain’s authority.

Eugene quietly observed Kain’s expression.

“And when he unleashes his full power, they say he can even wield symbolic swordsmanship.”

He truly was Fenchel’s most anticipated rising star.

In the future, Kain would become a notable powerhouse, roaming the continent and earning wealth and fame.

However—

“After that incident, no one heard of him again.”

Eugene, who knew the story of Kain’s fate—a secret known only to Fenchel’s higher-ups—was hesitant to antagonize him.

Instead, he found himself wanting to test Kain’s strength someday.

“Thanks for cleaning up after training. It must’ve been a hassle. You can go now.”

“Yes!”

“Understood!”

Kain dismissed the juniors with a calm demeanor.

As Eugene walked out with the others, Kain’s voice stopped him.

“You, there.”

“Hm?”

Eugene turned around with a curious look. Kain shook his head.

“Never mind. You’ve worked hard. Go on.”

“…”

Eugene shrugged and exited, while Kain chuckled to himself and turned away.

***

That night, in the training hall:

Shwip! Swish!

Raul was practicing his spear techniques alone.

While the spear served as his primary weapon, the sword was a secondary one.

As Emacs had mentioned, Fenchel primarily focused on swordsmanship, meaning Raul had to teach himself spear techniques.

Of course—

“If not for Eugene, I would’ve given up long ago. If I keep building on days like this, in five years, I’ll be able to join Fenchel’s knights.”

Raul never forgot that it was Eugene’s help that kept him going without giving up.

Spin! Thrust!

Raul was practicing a spear technique Eugene had taught him—a style called “Eight Heavens Extreme Spear”.

Eugene had demonstrated the first to fifth forms of the technique, and Raul had been diligently learning and refining them.

Though it wasn’t easy, Raul had a family to protect, and he couldn’t afford to give up.

As he extended his spear in the first form again—

Clunk!

The door to the training hall opened.

The senior trainees from earlier stepped inside, their faces illuminated by the hall’s lights.

“Hah, unbelievable.”

“Seriously? Is he using a spear?”

The three seniors glared at Raul with expressions of utter disbelief.

“Move it, kid.”

“I don’t know what makes you think you can use a spear at Fenchel, but as long as you’re here, there’s no place for you to train.”

The use of the training ground in the evening is permitted for everyone.

Raul was genuinely aggrieved, but he answered with as calm a demeanor as possible.

“Sorry, seniors.” Then I will train on the second floor.

However, the seniors scoffed.

“Second floor?” “Who gave you permission to use the second floor?”

“Don’t you know the rule that the second floor is reserved for the senior riders?”

“This guy’s insane.”

Raulra tried to respond calmly once again, but he couldn’t contain his anger at the subsequent words.

“You, right?” The one who always brings his little sister along.

“……Yes.”

“Take good care of it.” And don’t go around making it obvious that you don’t have parents. What on earth were you thinking bringing your younger sister as your guardian?”

“This place is survival of the fittest.” A background is also a skill and ability. Think and go about your day.

Not only his younger sister but even mentioning his deceased parents, Rauler felt an unbearable rage.

The curse words rose to my throat, and I wanted to stab those so-called seniors with a spear right away.

“……Understood.”

In the end, I swallowed my words and bowed my head.

However, it seemed that the seniors had no intention of letting it end like this.

“Huh, I guess you’re in a bad mood.” Junior.”

“If you’re that angry, why don’t you spar with me?” Do you want to? Hey, you?

“I could win even with one hand.” Is that a sparring match, or is it violence?

While the three were snickering and mocking Rauler, Rauler spoke up first.

“Dalian.”

“?”

“Alright, let’s spar.”

Rauler picked up the spear.

“Anyone, come on in.”

When Rauler made the announcement, the seniors initially had blank expressions, but soon their lips curled into smiles.

Chuk-

One senior, who grabbed the wooden sword stuck at the entrance, immediately charged at Rauler.

Squeak!

“This is what we call a master duel, junior!”

Bang!

The speed at which the wooden sword was swung down was extraordinary, and Rauler barely managed to block the attack by raising his spear horizontally.

“Oh, not bad.”

The senior slightly nodded and then took a step forward.

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Until the beginning, Ran was able to defend using me.

Even occasionally, they would mix in some rice to make things difficult for their seniors.

“Ha, look at this…?”

Feeling a strange sense of rivalry, the senior seemed to get annoyed and increased the speed.

Eventually, Rauler soon reached his limit.

Cook!

When a single jab was allowed at the location of the liver, the movement suddenly slowed down.

“Ugh…!”

“Does it hurt?” Haha.

The senior let out a small laugh and swung the sword wide to the side.

“I’ll make sure you can’t mess around again.”

It looked like they were going to completely crush one of Rauler’s legs.

And.

There was no upset.

Crack!

The swung wooden sword struck Rauler’s shin, and Rauler’s leg broke instantly.

“Ahhh!”

His scream filled the training ground.

The return of the talent monopolist is special.