Chapter 40: Spar with me

The moment the thirty heavily armed knights noticed the towering doors opening, the intense clashing of steel inside the underground arena abruptly died down.

Every head turned toward the entrance.

Seeing the crimson-haired youth stepping into the hall flanked by his towering Guardian Knight, Lord Commander Hughway, an immediate, palpable tension settled over the room.

Muscles tightened, hands reflexively gripped sword hilts, and a collective hush fell over the Superhuman garrison.

Without a second’s delay, the thirty knights dropped to one knee in perfect synchronization, their heavy iron greaves slamming against the chalk-dusted stone.

"We greet our Lord Viscount!" they bellowed in unison, their voices echoing off the arched vaults.

Craig offered a faint, relaxed smile as he looked over the kneeling warriors.

He understood their visceral reaction completely.

In less than twenty-four hours, he had executed a senior state master on the spot without a single blink of hesitation, completely restructured the administrative council, and flexed an absolute, terrifying grip over the realm’s political power.

To these knights, his fifteen-year-old visage was nothing more than a superficial mask—a deceptive cover hiding a cold, ruthless sovereign who demanded absolute obedience.

Craig raised a gloved hand, waving casually.

"At ease, gentlemen. Rise. Today, you may set aside formal court etiquette. Within these training walls, treat me simply as a fellow knight. I came here with a simple goal: to train."

The knights slowly stood up, though their postures remained stiff and alert.

Craig stepped further into the arena, his sharp golden eyes drifting toward the central ring.

Before his arrival, Ser Gunther had been actively engaged in a fierce spar against two other Sword Sages simultaneously.

Despite sharing the same core martial rank as his opponents, Gunther was effortlessly dominating the two-on-one duel, his broadsword deflecting their combined strikes with fluid, overwhelming force.

It was a natural display of power.

Gunther was not merely a Sword Sage—he was a true Ranker, a warrior whose awakened talent elevated his combat prowess far beyond ordinary martial boundaries.

And besides while Ser Gunther is at the Middle-stage of the Sword Sage class, his colleagues remained at the Initial-stage.

This made Ser Gunther’s prowess far superior compared to them even without being a Ranker.

"Ser Gunther," Craig called out smoothly.

Hearing his name, the Ranker Sword Sage immediately disengaged from his sparring partners, sheathed his blade, and marched briskly toward the dais, bowing his head deeply.

"You called for me, Lord Viscount," Gunther said, his posture rigid with respect.

Craig nodded. "Tell me, Ser Gunther... among the seventeen knights currently within the Sword Apprentice class, who possesses the most promising talent?"

Craig’s intent was clear.

As someone who currently occupied the physical realm of a Sword Apprentice himself, it was only fitting that he gauge his raw, unrefined combat strength against the finest peers of the same tier.

In the vast hierarchy of Sword Experts’ realm, the Sword Apprentice class was the vital foundation of the entire Swordsmanship realm.

Across the continent, the sword was revered as the ultimate father of all blades—whether a warrior wielded a curved saber, a heavy greatsword, a rapier, or a dagger, all martial disciplines ultimately fell under the supreme umbrella of Swordsmanship.

To cross the threshold from a mundane swordsman into a true Sword Apprentice required a warrior to successfully ignite their mana core, officially stepping into the superhuman domain.

At this foundational stage, a warrior learned to channel raw mana through their bloodstream, forging a direct connection between their soul and their mana core.

The physical dividends were immense: bodily strength multiplied tenfold, movement speed surpassed human limits, and physical senses heightened to a near-supernatural frequency.

Compared to ordinary, unawakened soldiers, a Sword Apprentice was practically viewed as an invincible sword master.

Yet, within the vast scale of Superhumans, they remained at the very bottom of the ladder.

Ser Gunther did not hesitate.

He scanned the line of seventeen Sword Apprentices before turning back to Craig.

"That would be Ser Liyen, my Lord. His sword control and natural instincts are superior to the others in his cohort...and besides he is at the Peak-stage of the Sword Apprentice class" Ser Gunther explained.

"Ser Liyen, step forward," Craig commanded calmly.

From the front row of the Apprentice lineup, a young black-haired man stepped out.

Liyen was tall, broad-shouldered, and possessed plain, rugged features.

He moved with a grounded, disciplined gait, immediately snapping his right fist over his chest plate as he bowed before the Viscount.

"Ser Liyen greets the Lord Viscount!"

Craig stepped down from the elevated edge of the dais, his black leather boots clicking quietly against the floor as he approached the young knight.

As he walked, Craig quietly activated his Dragon’s Heart.

A subtle, invisible pulse rippled deep within his chest, sending an intoxicating wave of dragon blood coursing through his veins.

Instantly, Craig’s perception of the physical world shifted into a hyper-detailed spectrum.

The air currents became visible, the heartbeat of every knight in the room echoed in his ears, and the flow of raw mana inside their bodies revealed itself to his golden eyes like luminescent rivers.

Looking closely at Liyen, Craig saw a steady, vibrant stream of light circulating through the knight’s energetic pathways.

’An emerald mana signature... clean and surprisingly refined,’ Craig analyzed internally, a faint smile touching his lips. ’His posture is balanced, his center of gravity is low. He clearly possesses rich, practical combat experience.’

However, looking at the smooth, unscarred aura surrounding Liyen’s shoulders, Craig wondered whether the young man’s experience was derived purely from standard human duels, or if he had ever survived the absolute, bloody hell of fighting a wild Abomination in the dark zones.

Craig stopped ten paces away from the young warrior, drawing his steel broadsword from its black sheath.

The polished metal gleamed beneath the magic lanterns of the training hall.

"Spar with me, Ser Liyen," Craig said softly, his golden eyes locking onto the young knight.

Liyen flinched slightly, a subtle trace of hesitation clouding his eyes.

Facing the lord who held the power of life and death over the entire domain was a daunting task; the instinctive fear of accidentally injuring his sovereign naturally crossed his mind.

Noticing the flicker of doubt in Liyen’s posture, Craig’s smile turned sharp, cold, and razor-like.

"Let me offer you a single warning, Ser Liyen," Craig spoke, his voice dropping into a stern tone that sent a chill down the spines of every knight present.

"Do not hold back against me. Fight as if your life depends on it. If I sense even a fraction of a second where you intentionally pull your strikes or hold back your mana... I will treat it as treason, and your punishment will be severe."

Liyen’s heart slammed against his ribs.

The hesitation vanished instantly from his eyes, replaced by a sudden, intense surge of adrenaline.

He drew his own longsword, channeling his emerald mana straight into the steel until the blade resonated with a sharp, humming vibration.

He dropped into a low, aggressive combat stance, taking a deep breath as he faced his sovereign..

"Understood, my Lord!" Liyen shouted, his eyes burning with absolute focus.

"Forgive my rudeness!"