"Get ready," Rolf prompted.

Confused yet curious, Reivan stood up and readied his sword. The Soul Armament morphed into a form that matched his premature body, so it was about the same length as an ordinary short sword — the blade was the length of an adult's forearm. His grip tightened around the handle as he took a basic stance he'd seen in an anime.

"Uhm..." Reivan hesitated. "So I just try to hit you...?"

He was not at all worried about hurting the old warrior. Even if Rolf just stood there and let Reivan wail on him with his weapon for days, Reivan doubted whether he could even scratch the man's clothes.

Rather, he was more worried about himself.

'Is he gonna bonk me on the head if I miss or something...? I mean, even if I'm used to pain, it's not like I find it enjoyable... I don't have such a strange disposition.'

Although he was aware that plenty of people liked to be abused — especially by attractive members of the opposite sex wearing black leather clothing that tightly clung to the body — Reivan couldn't really understand their sentiments. Why would being hurt be pleasurable? Still, he liked to remain open-minded, so he didn't judge too much.

Even if the Sword Star held back, Reivan did not look forward to receiving a hit from such a powerful person.

'Besides... it's not like I can hit you at all. Unless you just stand there and let me. And if you do, what would be the point of hitting you...?'

How could his flimsy little arms possibly allow him to catch the Sword Star? Even if he exercised a lot in this life, and even with the added benefit of being part warbeast, his swings could not possibly hit a Transcendent.

'Whatever. Let's just get this over with...'

"Yes, that's right." Rolf nodded. "I will stand right here, and you will try to take a step forward and slash at me. That's all. Oh, and you have to do it properly, meaning you can't throw your sword at me or use the ability to control it remotely."

"Understood..." Reivan mentally prepared himself. But before he made his attempt, he gingerly looked at the old man. "You won't hit me back, right?"

"I won't." The Sword Star shook his head and chuckled.

"Okay. But can I ask what this is for...? I thought we were training the mind." The young prince furrowed his brow in bewilderment before sending the ancient warrior an apologetic gaze. "Oh, and I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions..."

"Asking questions is never a bad thing. It means you are thinking about things properly." Rolf casually waved off Reivan's concerns as he stroked his chin in thought. "Hmmm... are you aware that the outcomes of most battles are already decided before they even begin?"

"They do?" Reivan raised a brow at this, but in truth, he actually heard a similar saying back on earth. Still, there was no plausible way for him to know this, so he would naturally have to feign ignorance.

'If the outcome is already known, why fight at all then...?'

"It's because one side mentally gives up the moment they see how dominant the other side is." The ancient swordsman chuckled as he sent a teasing glance at the young prince. "A perfect example is how you have already given up hitting me before even trying."

Reivan smiled wryly as he scratched his cheek. He couldn't say anything in rebuttal since he did think that way.

'In my defense, I'm right.'

"I mean... aren't I correct to think that way?" Reivan asked, somewhat indignant for being called out. "There's no way I can win against someone like you, right?"

"Hohoho. I suppose that's true. But..." Rolf raised a finger and stared into the young boy's eyes with a serious expression. "Should you give up?"

Reivan frowned and tilted his head.

"Imagine this." The old man continued, his voice somber. "What if I was your enemy? What if I wanted to slay someone you love?"

Rolf stood about one to two meters away from Reivan, his hands dangling loosely at his sides. With a subtle twitch of his fingers, an ordinary-looking sword made out of what seemed to be black glass appeared in his grasp. His eyes which were usually filled with tranquility were now sharpened as they regarded the young prince.

The next moment, Reivan felt like the world was silenced. An intense and prickly feeling of suppression overcame him, causing goosebumps to rise all over his body. It was a different feeling from when he'd first passed through the torii gates. Earlier, he'd felt like his existence was being suppressed, but this time, it was like his body was instinctively telling him to surrender.

You are under the influence of [Intimidation]!

You are being influenced by [Sword Intent]!

"Would you let me do as I please?" Rolf raised his sword high, and to Reivan, it felt like a guillotine ready to part his head from the rest of his body. "Just because I was stronger? You would sit by and watch me hurt your loved ones?"

Reivan's grip tightened around his sword's handle until it started to hurt. He couldn't even open his mouth under the oppressive aura that most likely came from the ancient warrior in front of him. Despite this, he didn't even have to think of an answer to Rolf's question.

Because he already knew.

'Of course not!'

For more than half of his past life, all he'd done was sit on his ass while everybody he loved took care of him as they hid their pain.

Now, it would be different.

"I like the look on your face, boy. You show promise." Rolf bared his teeth in a vicious smile. "Now. Swing."

Reivan's arms trembled as he struggled to raise them, his veins threatening to pop from the strain of trying. His joints felt like they had rusted over but he would not let that stop him.

"The Sword Star is not the person in front of you. Your ally is not here. I am a monster that aims to take everything from you."

'No...'

Gritting his teeth, Reivan's eyes glared at the old warrior. He did not know when, but the kingdom's guardian had vanished in his vision. In front of him was a humanoid figure that seemed to have been carved from shadows, with glowing red eyes and a sword held high in the air, ready to descend upon him.

"Swing, Reivan of Aizen." A deep voice boomed. "Knights fight not for themselves, but for what stands behind them. They seek not victory, but the safety of the people and the prosperity of their nation. Their shoulders bear the wills of the fallen who'd died fighting for the same cause! And you? What is your reason for fighting? Did you wish to take up the sword for some flimsy reason? Because of some vision of grandeur? Do you even have one?"

The dark figure's malevolent eyes stared coldly, slicing Reivan's neck with an intense glare.

"Power needs a greater purpose, Reivan Aizenwald. Otherwise, it is just violence," The demonic figure said. "In this moment of duress, who or what comes into your mind? What is it that you would fight for? What would you die for!?"

'What comes to mind...'

That was easy. His father, Rodin. The lovely, wolf-eared Vianna. Naturally, there was Roland and Stella as well. Helen and Hector, his two best friends. Even Valter was there. Hanzo as well.

'Kyouka...'

"You are young, so you've likely never experienced loss. But just imagine. What if. What if they were in danger? What would you do?"

Reivan grit his teeth so hard that they creaked. With great difficulty, he managed to raise his sword. The weapon quivered as his arms strained under the weight, wobbling left and right. But it was raised and ready to slash down, and that was all that mattered.

Now, all that was left was to take a step.

"You swing. That's what you do."

Blood dripped down the corner of the young prince's lips after he bit them. His eyes shone with a beastly glow, filling with golden light.

One step. That was all he needed.

"If you cannot even triumph over your fears, then you can never win against your enemy. It's better to not pick up the sword at all."

But no matter how much he wanted to take that final step forward, his legs just refused to move. In their defense, they could barely hold up Reivan's weight. His knees shook incessantly, however, they did not do so from fear.

'Dammit. Move! Fuck!'

It would not be the first time he would face a Transcendent. The thought reminded him of the scene just before he was released from the fragment of eternity.

A wounded Transcendent rat. The scent of blood in the air and the ominous screaming of the wind. Rot spreading, the withering grass, and trees shriveling up.

His mother's arm hanging out of the rat's mouth.

The scene was so vivid in his mind he almost thought it was happening right in front of him. But it wasn't.

At least, not today.

"Step forth. Vanquish your enemies. Extinguish their lives for they can never compare to even a single hair on a loved one's head. Do not let them desecrate the land you grew up in. Do not let them take from you!"

"RAAAH!" Reivan let out a guttural yell — a roar of defiance. If his body refused to obey his commands, then he would simply have to make it bend to his will.

"SWING! Reivan Aizenwald!"

Giving up on his legs, Reivan placed all of his energy on his arms. As his knees buckled and his body started to sink, an invisible force propelled him forward. It was just barely a meter, a distance that could be covered in a single step...

But it was enough.

You have somewhat resisted [Intimidation]! You have partially broken free from the influence of [Sword Intent]! [Intent] has transformed into [Underdog's Defiance]!

His sword sliced through the air with all the power he could muster. It may have been nothing to a great being like Rolf, but it was everything Reivan had. At this point, nobody could blame him for not trying.

The Sword Star smiled as he watched the blade descend. He was just about to catch it with his hand but his eyes widened. Quickly, he held up his own sword to parry Reivan's instead, deflecting the young prince's Soul Armament with ease.

His strike may have failed but Reivan's heart bubbled with satisfaction and excitement. He couldn't help but curl his lips slightly, feeling quite pleasedat his accomplishment.

That is, until he realized that he was headed face-first into the ground.

'I can't move a muscle... Fucl. Well, this is gonna hurt...'

Reivan closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable smooching session with the floor. Suddenly, he felt his body stop in mid-air and float over to the soft grass underneath the white cherry blossom tree. When he opened his eyes, Rolf was sitting in front of him while stroking his chin with a strange look on his face.

"You used your [Formless Will] to take a step forward." Rolf shook his head in exasperation before sighing. "But I suppose I only said not to use it for attacking. Resourcefulness is something that should be encouraged. Splendid work."

"Heh." Reivan laughed weakly. "Thanks..."

"That should be enough for today. I'm sure your mind is exhausted, so go back and rest."

'Yeah, there's no way I'm doing anything else today...'

Even if he pretty much had an infinite amount of stamina from constantly using [Effect Reproduction], his brain felt like mush right now. Reivan wanted nothing more than to sleep, or do something that didn't require him to use his head, like staring at a wall or reading a rom-com light novel.

"Yes sir..." Reivan languidly said. "Thank you for teaching me today..."

"It's no problem." Rolf waved him off. "If you wish, we can do this again when we're both free."

The young prince's eyes couldn't help but widen at that. "Really? I thought this was going to be a one-time thing..."

"Yes. That's what I intended. However, you showed much more promise than I thought, and there is much merit in refining you myself. In addition, your mother has been very... persistent."

'Thanks, Mom! You're the best!'

"I'll definitely be back." Reivan grinned as he looked the ancient warrior in the eye. "Next time, I won't have to use my [Formless Will] like that. You'll see."

"I'm looking forward to it." Rolf chuckled. "Just remember what you felt earlier, and I'm sure you'll eventually be able to do it. A knight is only as strong as the sentiments he feels about those he protects. A swordsman is not a living weapon — it is a sword and a man working in tandem. Do not ignore the person behind the blade. Polish yourself as you sharpen your skills, for that is the path to true strength."

"I will take those words to heart, Master." Reivan tried to sit up to bow but he found that he couldn't even do that much. So while lying on his back, the soft grass as his bed, he placed his fist against his chest, performing what was probably the laziest Aizenian salute in history. "By the way, I'd appreciate it if you teleported me next time... I could honestly do without the hike. Actually, please teleport me to my bed if you can, I want to sleep. Please and thank you..."

"Very well." The Sword Star grinned before turning to Valter with a serious expression. "Rodin already knows, but he'll want a first-hand account of what happened in the Outlands. I will leave it to you. Don't worry about little Reivan, here. There are many watching him."

"Understood."

'Hey, what was that about people watching me...? I'd like some privacy here...'

Ignorant of his feelings Rolf waved his hands at him. "Farewell. For now."

"Yes. I'll see you next time..." Reivan also waved with a lethargic smile on his face but then his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, right. Master, you said something about bearing the wills of the fallen, right?"

"I did say that, yes."

"Hmmm..." Reivan's gaze drifted to the pink cherry blossom trees they'd seen on their way to the core region of the Sword Sanctum. Then he recalled the seemingly endless sea of trees in the mountain. Finally, he eyed the white cherry blossom tree right next to him.

'I think... more than anyone here, this guy's had the toughest time of them all.'

Even with Rolf's seemingly omnipotent strength, all of the people that these trees represented had still died while under his protection.

Reivan thought that there was no way that the ancient warrior felt nothing about that fact. Perhaps the old man even blamed himself for every single death.

'I think I read something about that somewhere... Some survivors blame themselves for the deaths of others.'

After taking a moment to arrange the words in his head, Reivan turned to the Sword Star and said, "You don't have to bear all that weight yourself. Father is here. There's Mother and Uncle to help out too. There's my big brother, big sister, Valter, and all the other knights in the kingdom. They'll be happy to bear the burden with you... or rather, they already are, probably. And then there's me! I'll grow up and help out too. Uh... the point is... you're not alone. Just wanted to mention that..."

'Oh, God. It'll be so embarrassing if I'm wrong about this...'

His worries were for naught, though.

"Those words mean a lot to me. Thank you." Rolf smiled warmly as he reached over and ruffled Reivan's hair. "You must come and visit again. Some other time."

Reivan nodded while fixing the hair that had gotten messed up again — so many people seemed to like messing it up. He did not miss the subtle change in nuance in how the Sword Star mentioned his future visits.

'Earlier, he said that I could visit. But now, I must visit, huh? Guess he likes me a lot now?'

It was a great outcome for merely saying the truth.

"See you later, Master."

"Goodbye, young one." With a beaming smile on his face, Rolf waved one last time before clapping his palms together.

Jingle!