"Ugh..." Reivan groaned while rubbing his reddened nose. The dull pain prevented him from feeling too happy about his victory against the three squires.

'What the hell was that, anyway...'

He didn't think he underestimated the three of them. But he sure didn't expect Alfered to have learned those types of moves when even Reivan hadn't been taught them yet. At most, he could do some basic elementalism, releasing the elements in their raw form; like shooting a pebble-sized block of ice or zapping someone with an electric charge.

As for the application of raw mana, Reivan hadn't received that level of education yet. Valter had said that he should focus on control development for now.

'But that was definitely an aetherblade art...'

Aetherblade Arts.

It was a generalizing term that Aizen used to refer to special techniques that knights used in a variety of situations. Very often, it involved unattributed mana since most knights didn't have elemental affinities, and hence would find using elemental techniques inefficient. However, upper-class etherblade arts were a hybrid of elementalism and the application of magic power.

Valter's ability to teleport was an aetherblade art as well. Vianna's ability to do something similar was also an aetherblade art.

What Alfered used to launch a blade of magic power and propel himself forward at great speeds were aetherblade arts too. Although they were so basic they could only be loosely considered as such, that didn't change the fact that they were still aetherblade arts.

'That's kinda unfair. I wanna learn some arts too...!'

Reivan decided to pester the hell out of Valter to teach him after his dance lessons.

"He's the worst~"

"Die."

Reivan awkwardly cleared his throat. With a wry grin, he sent a side glance to the source of the curses.

Maliya and Jeyna both scowled at him, holding blocks of ice to their bloody faces.

"Ah~ My forehead hurts so much! What are you gonna do if I become even stupider~?"

"Tsk. Did you really have to go for our faces, huh?"

'How is this my fault...? I was already having a hard time fighting all three of you! I obviously had no leeway!'

Reivan pursed his lips, holding back the words in his heart. Compared to him — who only had a slightly reddened nose from Alfered's punch — the two girls were much worse off, so Reivan thought their anger was valid. Still, he internally wished they knew how much he'd held back in that fight. On top of sealing his special and racial abilities, he didn't use the mana augmentation he'd been focusing on improving for the past two years.

He didn't even use elementalism except for that one time!

"You did great." Helen, who had walked up to Reivan at some point, patted his shoulder in approval. She looked up, a smug smile on her face as she gazed at the injured girls.

Maliya's frown deepened and Jeyna scoffed before turning away in annoyance.

"Ahaha. Don't mind them." Alfered chimed in from the side while remaining on the ground, squatting. "They'll get over it. We get roughed up often so we're used to it."

"Uh, yeah..."

Reivan scratched his cheek, inspecting the injuries he'd inflicted on the good-natured youth — who had the worst injuries out of all three squires.

After getting socked in the face, Reivan made quick work of Alfered. His much higher stats meant that Alfered had a large gap to close in order to inflict significant damage with his bare hands. Furthermore, Reivan was so used to getting hit by massive chunks of ice, he didn't even recoil at the squire's comparatively soft fist.

Right after recovering, Reivan walloped Alfered in the face with more force than he would normally use, causing the squire's face to have a big red spot right in the middle where the nose used to be.

But that wasn't all.

'His legs look like burnt steak...'

Only after Donovan declared his victory did Reivan notice that Alfered's calves and shins had burst from the usage of the aetherblade art. Blood continued to drip out of wounds that were spread out like a tree's roots. The skin of everything below the knees was charred black as they released faint blue smoke.

It was apparent that Alfered had forced the activation of the art, causing his legs to suffer as a result.

'Does he have to cut them off or something...?'

Reivan briefly reflected on his past life, recalling the harsh reality where people had to amputate limbs that were severely burned or frostbitten.

Despite his dark thoughts, the squire seemed convinced that he'd be okay.

"Oh, this?" Alfered chuckled after noticing Reivan's gaze. "Don't worry. This isn't the first time it happened. I'll be fine! Oh, but I'll probably get scolded by Sir Malrik though..."

"You don't have to wait since I'll do it in his stead, boy."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Alfered's smile vanished, replaced by a look of horror as he hesitantly turned his head.

There, behind him, stood Donovan. With a wrinkled face only a mother could love, the old man's brows creased as he gripped the top of Alfered's head.

"Ah!"

"The raw blade of mana was one thing since it isn't even considered an official aetherblade art. But using Burst Step? Did your instructor not tell you that you are forbidden from using aetherblade arts without proper preparation and precautions? That you risk suffering permanent damage? Or did you just not listen? Hm?"

"I listened, I listened, sir!" Alfered cried out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and beads of sweat soaking his forehead.

"Then what the hell was that?"

"Th-that..."

"Speak. Quickly."

"I-I just wanted to win! I wanted to win really badly, sir! I'm sorry I broke the rules! I knew I'd blow up my feet! But losing sucks so much! Ack, my head! Please let go!"

Donovan let go of the boy's head and scoffed. "Such determination is admirable and is something to be rewarded. However, you still broke the rules. As such, after your recovery, you must run a single lap around the capital as punishment."

"Th-the capital's walls...?"

"Need I repeat myself?"

Alfered's shoulders slumped. "No, sir..."

'Damn. The capital's freaking huge. Won't it take him a few days to do a lap...?'

Reivan watched the scene with schadenfreude, inwardly hoping that Donovan ran out of steam before reaching him.

Unfortunately, it seemed the old bastard still had plenty of venom left in him.

"And you." Donovan stood right in front of Reivan, his lined face twisted into a grimace.

"Yes, sir!" The prince straightened his back and saluted.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you let your guard down after the reckless imbecile's weapon broke."

"Uh..."

'I have nothing to say to that...'

After all, he had let his guard down.

"Always remember." Donovan tapped the middle of Reivan's forehead. "A knight does not break when their weapon breaks — a knight only breaks if the knight breaks. The fight is never over until oblivion claims your soul. A knight who never surrenders is unbreakable, just like the weapon they wield."

Reivan nodded, mulling over the words. "Yes, sir. I'll remember."

"As you should." The old knight nodded before turning toward the rest of the children. "Now that that's over with, it's time for the rest of you to get your bodies moving. Exhibition time is over."

At Donovan's words, one of the squires tilted her head. "Eh? But I thought we were supposed to watch all three of them fight. We wanna spar with Ms.Helen too!"

A round of loud agreement followed the girl's words. It was obvious that the vast majority was looking forward to the prospect of exchanging pointers with Helen.

"Fools." Donovan sneered, momentarily sending a glance toward the confused genius. "Ignorance is truly bliss. Do as I say and form pairs with people you don't know. Now!"

With the old man threateningly waving a fist at them, the rest of the squires said nothing more and scurried off to fulfill his orders.

'Oh. I guess his blood is still red after all.'

Reivan nodded in satisfaction at his instructor's surprising act of kindness.

"Hm?" Helen frowned. She tapped Reivan on the shoulder and asked, "Why can't I fight too?"

"Are you crazy? If you want to spar, just be quiet. I'll spar with you later. Don't hurt these poor children..."

Reivan scolded Helen while pulling her away from the innocent squires, reuniting with Hector.

----------------------------------------

Two ascended knights suddenly appeared, and on Donovan's orders, carted off the three squires Reivan mutilated to who-knew-where. Presumably, to one of Sormon's temples.

On the other hand, Reivan and the twins were made to watch the other squires spar with each other from the side. Hector watched with a bored expression and Helen half-heartedly sat on the ground while zoning out and chewing gum, but Reivan was growing more amazed over time.

All of the squires fought at a surprisingly high level of expertise. This actually became more apparent to him when viewed from the side, and with so many of them fighting.

The spars weren't the amateurish stick-bashing he'd expected out of twelve-year-olds. Nor were they boring staring contests where they carefully watched the other's movements to capitalize on openings. There were practically no feint fiestas too.

Each and every move they made was made with lethal intentions. And no one stayed back to wait for a perfect opportunity to counter-attack, everybody rushed to make the first move.

It sounded overly aggressive and crude once described in that way, but Reivan only saw refined movements. And even though attacking seemed to be the main focus, the squires showed that they were highly proficient in parrying and evasive maneuvers as well.

Additionally, by looking at them from afar, Reivan finally realized the identity of the strange gazes he received from the squires.

Fighting Spirit.

The moment Donovan said that he and the twins received special training, every knight cadet looked at them like how a gamer looks at a rare monster while grinding.

Quite frankly, they were a bit scary.

'I can't believe I was fighting three at once...'

If it weren't for his superior physical abilities and some other advantages, he would stand absolutely no chance against any of these kids. His technique and basic skills couldn't compare at all.

But Reivan wasn't discouraged in the slightest.

"Hey, Van. I'm hungry."

Reivan gave the glutton a fried chicken leg and went back to watching the numerous youths spar with each other.

----------------------------------------

After the joint training session with the knights was over, Reivan said goodbye to the twins and was brought back to their usual training room.

"So?" Donovan stood in the middle of the central platform, surrounded by an indoor lake. "What did you think?"

Reivan ruminated on the abstract question, debating how to word his answer. He looked up with a strange look on his face and stared at his teacher. "Aren't they a little crazy, sir?"

"Elaborate."

"Like, they're kinda... Uh, too enthusiastic about fighting people, no? Even when their opponent's stronger."

Donovan's eyes closed as he nodded. "It's a result of their mental training."

"Mental training, huh...?"

'Isn't it kinda like brainwashing, then?'

Seemingly seeing through his thoughts, Donovan sighed. "I'm aware it looks a bit... sinister. But it's not as if we're forcing them to be knights. They can quit at any time. And in reality, some do."

"I suppose so..."

"Knights face many stressful situations, often life-threatening. And reaching the heights required by their profession demands that they have... strong minds. And to achieve that, we must start molding their minds from an early age since that is when they develop the most."

Reivan stayed silent, listening to the old knight's excuses.

'I understand, but really...'

Donovan continued. "Perhaps our way of doing things seem predatory and manipulative. However, do take note that I have gone through the same thing. And if I went back in time, I would gladly do so again. Many feel this way, even after they come to know."

Feeling slightly convinced, Reivan heaved a sigh. "I understand, sir. Thank you for explaining."

"Bah." The old knight turned around. "You still seem unconvinced, so let me just say this. Those squires are given a hard time even before they undergo mental training. It's to make the flimsy ones quit. Those that stay, are the ones who truly want to become knights — the ones that truly want to serve this nation. And we want those kids to live as long as possible."

Reivan smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Now, that wasn't really the conversation I was looking for, but I'm glad we got that out of the way. What do you think about the squire's capabilities?"

'If that was the question you wanted to be answered, why didn't you just speak more clearly, you bastard.'

The prince thought for a bit, before giving his honest reply. "There's a lot I can learn from them."

"Good."

Donovan's wrinkled face twisted into a satisfied smile. A training sword appeared in his hand, and he threw it at Reivan.

"Now we're getting somewhere."