Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

The finals of the Aries Order’s martial arts tournament were held three days after the preliminary rounds concluded.

On the first day of the finals, Christian received the tournament bracket and looked at Aira with a nonchalant expression.

“See, I told you we’d meet in the semifinals or finals?”

“It would have been much cooler if we met in the finals,”

Aira said, frowning as she confirmed the bracket.

Liber wished he had the confidence of the siblings, who seemed sure they would reach the finals.

“It’s just the first day of the finals, and you’re already thinking about the final match?”

But the siblings were already in a foul mood knowing they wouldn’t face each other in the finals.

They were the youngest contenders in this tournament and, being siblings from the same family, Christian was the grandson of Marquis Ferdida, and Aira was the granddaughter of the Viscount of Miles—a guarantee for publicity.

“Is there anyone else more noticeable than us?”

“Right? This is a bit of a blow to our pride.”

Though they were oddly prideful about it, the siblings were sincere.

As their subtle aura of competitiveness seeped out, Liber quietly stepped away from them.

“Speaking of which! I heard our senior, Postinger from the Euclid Duchy, also made it to the finals. I wanted to experience his greatness once. Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

“I’m not interested in some idiot like him.”

“… I think I asked you not to say things like that in public. Please be careful with your words, for all our safe returns.”

Liber couldn’t help but have special feelings about Postinger Euclid, who had been his senior at the academy.

After all, the Euclid Duchy was the greatest noble family in the Rondel Kingdom and among the most illustrious knight families on the continent.

“Why do you undervalue Senior Postinger in particular? You’re an extraordinary genius, but Senior Postinger is also outstanding enough to be the next in line for the Ether Weapon.”

Liber admired the Euclid Duchy genuinely, not merely for the survival of his minor noble lineage.

“There’s a high chance you, Christian, will face Senior Postinger in the finals. Be careful, he’s one of the most gifted people I’ve ever come across.”

Christian spoke with a pout, not particularly pleased with Liber’s concerns.

“What, do you think I’ll lose? And we’re more worried about you, elder brother Liber.”

“Uh, huh? Me? Why me?”

“What if you lose before you even face that Riley guy you’ve been longing to encounter?”

“Oh…”

Liber and Riley, if both won their rounds of 32, would meet in the round of 16.

As this reality he had been avoiding dawned on him, a stern expression froze his face.

But soon enough, he regained his composure and spoke with ease.

“That could happen. So, for now, I’ll just focus on the opponent right in front of me. Riley comes next.”

“Hmm, then who comes after Riley?”

“Well… it would be fun to face one of you two after that.”

“That’s quite an ambitious dream.”

“They say dreams should be big.”

Initially, Liber seemed nervously tense, but now having regained his calm composure, he displayed a changed attitude toward the upcoming matches.

His special feeling for Riley was undeniable, but it wasn’t to the extent that he would mess up other matches by obsessing over one individual.

His determination to give his all in every match, knowing his strengths well, rather than his diligence, earned Christian’s high regard for Liber.

“Well, I’ll try my best, though I’m the one who’ll reach the finals.”

“What?! Are you saying I’ll lose to you?!”

“Ts-ts, like elder brother Liber, relax a little. You should know when to give up too.”

“Grr! Just wait. I’ll destroy you, and I’ll take down whoever Postinger is too!”

“Try it if you can.”

“Fine. On the way home, let’s meet the guy briefly. I need to bash him up first.”

The conversation increasingly veered toward ambushing Postinger.

Liber, unable to keep up with the duo’s dialogue, found solace in the fact that, fortunately, it was just the three of them, himself and the Worden siblings, present there.

Allowing their chatter to drift past his ears, Liber fell heavily onto a chair, sipped his tea, and unclasped the bracket sheet.

He no longer heard statements like, “I’ll crush you in the semifinals, and Postinger’s head is mine.”

“But why did this person enter?”

Liber’s curiosity fixated on one person.

Carpenta.

A renowned young talent in the Rondel Kingdom, just like Postinger Euclid.

‘Why would the holy figure of the Aries Order enter a martial arts tournament for selecting holy knights?’

As the most eminent young talent among the holy knights of the Aries Order, it was undoubtedly a surprising affair for him to participate in a tournament organized by their own order.

‘Well, as long as it’s not Christian…’

He wasn’t particularly worried. His concern lay elsewhere.

‘Christian, please go easy… don’t ruin relations with the Aries Order.’

Knowing Christian’s personality, Liber feared that Christian might mock his opponent more brutally than he did with Aira in the preliminaries.

He fervently hoped that their family wouldn’t alienate the Aries Order or bind themselves with any other noble houses.

If the Aries Order’s relationship with the Worden house soured, it would become challenging to find clergymen in the Rangar region.

***

Describing the round of 32 matches, it was glamorous, yet unremarkable.

Liber felt immensely satisfied with the result he achieved, and it gave Aira a newfound sense of enjoyment.

“This is genuinely fun!”

Aira shouted, clenching a fist, despite her body being bruised all over.

For Aira, who had never been in near-maximum power clashes with anyone but Christian and Liber, it was akin to finding a new toy.

“Is it?”

Yet Christian remained nonchalant. Aira, sensing his reluctance, asked why.

“Is it not to your liking?”

“It’s not that…”

The Aries Order’s martial arts tournament had an age restriction, under the pretext of discovering young talent.

The target group comprised individuals aged 16 to 26.

‘Surely, at this age, they’d share the same timeline as our master?’

The preliminaries were merely for show, but the finals would have the knights using waves, at least that’s what was expected.

Even so, it was lower than anticipated.

‘No, even our master was pretty bad when she was young.’

He understood the situation was different compared to back then.

In extreme environments, one had to get stronger to survive. Those surviving could effortlessly hunt demon beasts like they were nothing.

Though it was an era of peace, Christian was apprehensive about the approaching times of great turmoil.

Having witnessed the Fierce Demon Dragon and its monstrous massacres, he couldn’t help but feel anxious.

‘But it seems not everyone is a mere straw-doll.’

Most were unremarkable in Christian’s eyes, but there were a few exceptions.

Christian observed their auras and said to Aira.

“Anyway, at this rate, the round of 16 won’t be difficult.”

“That’s easy for you to say, easy for you!”

Unlike the bruised Aira, Christian was unscathed, provoking a flare of indignation in Aira.

Christian’s opponent in the round of 32 was formidable, even in Aira’s view, but Christian subdued him effortlessly without breaking a sweat.

Even though the opponent was six years older and had the full support of a notable family.

Yet, she had to have a grueling battle against an opponent of similar caliber, leaving her whole body covered in bruises.

Exactly what accounted for the vast difference between herself and Christian…?

“Get your wounds healed quickly. You’ll have it easier in the next rounds.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You have something others can’t match, even something I can’t match.”

“Huh? What?”

Aira, piqued, paused her potion drinking and gazed at Christian. He, in turn, pointed a finger at his chest.

“You’re aware your mana reservoir is exceptional compared to others, right?”

“Well…”

Gradually, aira began realizing that her mana reservoir functioned differently.

Unlike Christian, aira was just starting to build her mana reservoir and had yet to notice differences from others.

It was only through accumulated experiences, observing more people’s mana, that she understood her mana reservoir was unique.

“That might be true, but what does that have to do with the round of 16?”

Aira’s mana reservoir was constructed using remnants of mana left by her master during her prime and an Ether Weapon.

While Aira couldn’t fully harness the Ether Weapon’s and the mana reservoir’s potential due to her current limitations, the swift recovery and large capacity of her reservoir were unmatched among knights of her age.

Advancing to the next level to achieve the compressed processing stage was a future goal, but even at present, it was an impressive talent.

This overwhelming talent would serve to draw a vast disparity over time, especially in situations like now, when recovery time was short.

“You can recover mana faster than anyone else even if the rest time is the same for everyone. Usually, returning to peak condition after exhausting mana takes a lot of time. That’s why everyone manages their energy for subsequent rounds.”

“Oh…”

Most finalists reserved energy, accounting for future rounds.

While one might not exert themselves in the initial match with more time to recover, the following contests inevitably favored those with rapid mana recovery.

“Your victory in the round of 32 was partly because your opponent hesitated, probably thinking, ‘Why is she charging recklessly?’ Failing to unleash their power in time. In other words, you’re dominant even in a psychological battle.”

Aira’s opponents likely observed her draining all mana till exhaustion.

While it was their misjudgment, they were conditioned to approach their match with some leisure, oblivious to her natural large capacity and quick recovery, an inevitable psychological battle bound for victory.

“Hmm, I guess so. I’m quite extraordinary!”

Delighted with Christian’s explanation, aira’s face lit up.

“… Yes, quite extraordinary.”

“Heheh.”

Happy, aira delighted in her potion while Christian leisurely sipped his tea.

And…

“Christian, isn’t there any advice for me?”

Liber, who couldn’t engage in their conversation, hovered around the two.