“Rah!” The knight’s shout was filled with strength as he swung down his wooden sword to intercept the attack, but a sword could only strike true when the wielder’s mind, technique, and body were one. Half-hearted strength was meaningless, and his wooden sword cut through air in vain. Instead, Clovis’s sword rested right at the base of the knight’s neck. “I-I admit defeat...” Sweat poured from every pore in the knight’s body; if this had been a real sword, his carotid artery would have been severed.
“The demonstration is over. Just emitting your aura like this can become a powerful weapon. This goes without saying, but it’s dangerous to assume that the strong emit a strong aura and the weak emit a weak aura. You will only be taken advantage of if you think like that. Mimicry, deception, and disguise are common in nature as well as in people, so don’t be fooled by appearances and intimidation.” Clovis, who had toyed with the knight using only the strength of intimidation, taught the knights a simple lesson about being a warrior.
Even though it was a simple technique, Clovis emitted an aura so powerful it could make even the best knights cower, and there were very few who could completely block it, making it a challenging experience. And because these knights were elites, it was sometimes necessary for them to deal with masters who used intricate techniques, so having Clovis demonstrate one was extremely meaningful.
“Today’s demonstrations are over. I will be returning to the town of Lianard soon, but make sure to keep up with your training,” Clovis said.
“Th-Thank you very much, sir!”
Clovis kept knocking the knights around for a while. After his job was over and the gasping knights saw him off, he was approached by the captain of the knights.
“That was magnificent, Sir Clovis.”
“Oh please, I still have a long way to go compared to my teacher, or those who studied under him before me.”
He’s being modest again...
The knights had the utmost respect for Clovis as a warrior, but they questioned his tendency to be extremely humble. The knights serving at the royal palace of the Rin Kingdom were the best of the best; any single one of them could face even five of another nation’s knights at once. If Clovis, who took no notice of them, humbly claimed to be inferior to his senior disciples and his surely elderly teacher, the knights would lose face.
“May I have a moment of your time, instructor?” A middle-aged man cut in front of the captain and called out to Clovis, his glasses glinting as he pushed them up his nose.
“What seems to be the matter?” Clovis grimaced inwardly. Though he was acquainted with the man, he had no plans to meet with him today, and in the capital, unscheduled meetings were all but guaranteed to lead to trouble.
Meanwhile, in the town of Lianard—before Ferd and Elrica’s arrival—a particular old coot was drunk.
“Weee...”
“That old man is wasted again.”
“Yeah. He’s apparently been like that since before my father was born.”
A group of men were gathered in a back alley, whispering as they glanced down at an old man, Sazaki, who was sprawled on the ground with an empty wine bottle in one hand. He’d been a fixture in the town—the homeless man who could be found lying around here or there with a bottle of alcohol in hand—since before many of the townspeople had even been born. The residents of Lianard were good at holding their liquor and were unlikely to completely ruin themselves like this, so it was quite unusual to see someone with a drinking problem so severe that he couldn’t even keep a roof over his own head.
“But where does he find the money to keep buying booze?”
“I’ve wondered the same.”
One thing had remained a mystery for years now, unsolved to this very day: How did Sazaki, the homeless, afford all of his alcohol?
“Well, whatever. Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
The men observing Sazaki left.
Depending on the location, a homeless drunkard could be killed by ruffians, but fortunately, Sazaki, horizontal with a bottle in hand, was an everyday sight for the townspeople, so barely anyone paid attention to him. That being said, there were still exceptions.
“Ugh, this guy reeks!” A boy of roughly twelve years old with a wooden sword at his waist and conspicuously red hair—looking like quite the rascal—glared at Sazaki with an obvious frown.
“Hic. Is that little Carl I hear?” Sazaki responded drowsily, cracking his eyes open in annoyance, his black pupils reflecting the light.
“I’ve been wondering for a while, but which is more important to you: alcohol or the sword?”
“Hic. Booze, obviously.”
“You have a sword at your waist, so aren’t you a swordsman, old man?!”
“When you get to my level, even a stick’s fine. Whee...”
Carl was one of the few people who actually talked to Sazaki, but a boy rife with common sense and a homeless old man who never let go of his drinks made quite the unbalanced pair.
“If you can do just fine with even a stick, wouldn’t you have a better life if you sold that sword? Is it dull or something?”
“Bwa ha ha ha ha! No one would buy a cursed blade that would fly right into the neck of an owner it didn’t like!”
“So it’s a profane sword!”
“Hiccup. Listen well, kiddo. This is an Eastern weapon called a katana. So it falls under bewitched swords, not magic ones.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that it’s dangerous!”
“You’re pretty smart.”
“So you’re making fun of me now?!”
“Bwa ha ha ha ha!”
Carl noticed an unusual sword—a katana—at Sazaki’s waist, and was suggesting that Sazaki would be able to live a little better by selling it. Although he yelled at Sazaki when the old man talked about the dangers of the katana, Carl didn’t believe his story at all. The owner of such a cursed sword was guaranteed a death from insanity, which didn’t fit at all with the image of a homeless man lying down with a bottle of alcohol in hand.
“Why do you even have that in the first place?”
“It’s kinda like a memento of a powerful old enemy, but also someone who’s sort of a friend. While I said booze is important to me, I can’t seem to throw this thing away either. Nah, booze really is number one in the end.”
“That was on the verge of sounding like a nice story, but you had to ruin it by going on about alcohol again, you old fart!”
“I just wanna point out that I ain’t fed up with my life and turning to booze for an escape. I’ve loved drinking since I was young.”
“I didn’t ask, but also that sounds awful!” The kindhearted Carl still showed interest in Sazaki’s story, but the fact that the old man wouldn’t distance himself from alcohol made Carl’s blood pressure rise. “Enough about the booze. Look at how far my sword skills are coming! Hmph! Hmph!” Carl realized that they weren’t getting anywhere, so he focused on the wooden sword in his hands and started swinging it up and down.
“Amazing.” Sazaki gave a curt one-word response.
“Take a proper look, you damn geezer!” Carl’s blood pressure rose more and more.
The sight would have made sense to any onlooker that knew that Carl had demanded that Sazaki teach him the way of the sword. The infamous drunkard seemingly had nothing but time on his hands anyway.
“Hold on, now. How did you know I wasn’t looking at you, when you were turned away from me and focusing on the tip of your sword?”
“Huh? Well...I just kind of did?”
“At your age, being able to swing a sword that well and still notice your surroundings is plenty impressive.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup, yup.”