"Sir Yonde, you are one of the strongest swordsmen in all of Gaite, right?"
"Sigh... People used to call me the strongest swordsman, your highness."
Two late middle-aged men were talking. They seemed like equals at first glance since they were sharing drinks around the same table.
But one of them had a higher status than the other. He was the king, while the other, Yonde, was a swordsman under the king.
"Haha! I think I should have mentioned it in another way," the king said humbly.
"Not at all. I can't surpass him. No, it seems like even that man's son is already stronger than me. Anyway, why did you ask? Do you have something in mind?"
"I was wondering why you don't build a stronger body to become a better swordsman."
"If you don't mind me asking, are you asking for my sake or for the prince's, your highness?"
"Hehehe, you saw right through me. Of course, as his tutor, I have complete trust in your education. Please take it as an old man's curiosity."
"In that case, I will answer with pleasure." The swordsman combed his beard, and a warm draft brushed past the table.
"One's build doesn't change the outcome very much."
The king's eyes opened wide upon this answer.
"Ah, I am sorry. That is not completely correct. Let me rephrase it. After building enough stamina to use their body, the swordsman has to choose a path." Yonde straightened his back as he continued.
"A path, you say?"
"Yes. For example, there are muscular swordsmen out there. Their entire path depends on overpowering their opponents. If we were to build our body, we could also do that."
"Then why don't you?" the king asked, with his interest rising.
"Because it can be countered with my fast sword."
"I see. I remember that you used to be called the fastest swordsman of Gaite."
Yonde's hand paused mid-motion, beard still between his fingers after another one of his wounds was touched with the words, "used to be." But he didn't fail in respect.
"Yes, your highness. But every swordsman's path has a counter. For example, those with higher stamina could counter my fast sword."
"But no one could beat you before that man came, right?" the king asked once again.
"It isn't about winning or losing. To be honest, I didn't lose to anyone because I didn't fight my counters."
"So, did you run away?"
The king's forwardness was nothing new to Yonde, so he didn't mind it much.
"Not at all. There is a big difference between running away and not fighting."
Yonde wanted to go back to the original topic before the king asked more questions. Thankfully, his next question was easier to answer.
"Then what is the strongest swordsmanship?"
"Well, there is more than one, actually. Swordsmanship isn't confined to a single path. So, even a fast sword can beat a high-stamina sword depending on the swordsmanship. My family's swordsmanship was one of those."
"You know that is not what I asked, Yonde. Which one is that man using?"
Yonde wanted to grumble, but he couldn't. Not in front of the king.
"Ah, I see. Well, there is one strongest swordsmanship that is on top of the others."
The king's eyes showed interest despite his calm disposition, but he waited for Yonde to continue.
"There is no name for it, but it is an all-around swordsmanship."
"What? Is it just that?"
"Your highness, it is not as easy as you think. They need to learn each kind of swordsmanship after building their body to a certain size. Only then could one counter every swordsmanship they encountered."
"That's… rather underwhelming," the king said, causing Yonde to sigh inside once again.
"Your highness, can you guess how many people have achieved it till today?"
"I don't know. Who would count such a thing?"
"Well, swordmasters do. Even though the exact number is unknown, the number is less than five. And that is when we include that man's son. Ah, there is one more name you might know. Duke Carlen Jr., son of Duke Carlen."
"What?" the king shouted unintentionally. It had been a long time since the king heard that name. Duke Carlen's son had just decided to go to Kaera. And no one had heard from him ever since then. "Ahem. Is it that hard to have such skills?"
"Of course. It is akin to learning every kind of swordsmanship. Especially if you are that man."
"What about him?"
"Those who choose all-around swordsmanship are a jack of all trades, but master of none. They are not the strongest, but they can win against the strongest using fast swordsmanship. They are also not the fastest; an average fast swordsman might be faster than them. But they can win against fast swordsmanship using their stamina. "
"And?" the king asked impatiently.
"That man is an exception. He is the strongest, the fastest, one with the most stamina. He already has everything. He is not an all-around swordsman. He is the best in every swordsmanship path."
"What? Is that even possible?"
"That is why he is called heaven's mistake."
"I see. I am glad we are not his enemy. And I heard that that man's son also has Divine Power. What do you think? How strong will he be if he masters both?"
Yonde thought about it a bit, then gave his answer: "If he tries to master both... he will never be able to surpass the Hero."
---
The bells rang three times, marking the arrival of someone important.
Boots thundered against the stone beyond the courtyard walls even before the lookout shouted, "Sir Tybalt is here! Open the gates!"
Sir Tybalt? Who is he?
In the last week, Colt had learned everything he needed about this era from the Order members.
He even knew the names of the elders as well as the Holy Priests. But Sir Tybalt, who was the 2nd rank in Alla's Luminous Order, wasn't in that list.
Colt's main source of information was rumors among the members of the Order. So, it didn't take long before he understood why no one talked behind him.
The gates opened, and 100 people entered the palace on horseback, led by a big man with long black hair and a beard.
Wind carried the scent of sweat and horse leather as the riders entered.
"Halt!" the second in command shouted after they all entered inside. Once they halted, the bearded man dismounted.
A group of six, including two guards, two attendants, and two administrative members, had approached him already.
"Sir Tybalt, welcome back!" the guards shouted, only to be ignored by him. Still, they didn't even flinch, showing this wasn't the first time this had happened.
Colt realized that everyone in the courtyard had disappeared once the lookout announced this man's arrival.
They had been too carefree earlier.
No matter what, the Order was like the military, so a bare minimum of tact was needed.
When he arrived first, none of the people acted this way since they were wary of Colt. But as he showed he didn't care, members started to act more and more freely.
Obviously, that was only the case since the authorities weren't here and they didn't neglect their duties. They just acted more freely.
Colt didn't care about how they acted. It even worked in his interest that they accepted him as not someone strict, since he could hear more about the rumors that way.
But now that the authority had returned, though it was unexpected and early, everyone wore their tactful masks on.
At least that was what Colt thought.
As Tybalt ignored the guards, he caught a glimpse of Colt, who was still half-naked, cleaning his sweat with a towel.
Even though he narrowed his eyes, he ignored Colt for now.
I will punish him later; there are more important things now.
"You," he pointed at one of the administrative members. "Where is the man using Divine Power?"
"Sir Tybalt, welcome bac-" the member tried to greet him, but...
"Answer my question! Where is he?" Tybalt interrupted him with his shout.
The member's shoulders jerked, but he obeyed without question and kindly pointed at Colt. "Here he is, sir."
Tybalt looked at Colt once again, and his eyes, to Colt's surprise, narrowed even more. "Are you mocking me now? I have gone for a few days, and you think I am some joke?" His tone sharpened like a blade.
"Sir Tybalt, how could I? It is really him," the member said with his legs shaking.
"May I help you?" Colt interrupted their talk, as otherwise the member might just faint.
Tybalt turned and looked at him with questioning eyes. "Who are you?"
"I am Colt. I came to Alla so that I could see the Holy Priest."
Tybalt scoffed upon hearing his reason. "Do you think anyone can see the Holy Priest whenever they want?"
Even while saying that, Tybalt was eyeing Colt. I don't believe that geezer sent me ahead to check him. He must have used some method to deceive these idiots.
Colt inhaled slowly, letting the anger cool just enough. He wasn't here to fight him right now. He had priorities.
"I am sorry, sir. But I must see the Holy Priest. If you just let me show my skills, you will also see-"
Tybalt interrupted Colt's sentence, "There is no need. We have already seen one miracle from that wench, so a second one is impossible. I don't know what you did, but you can't deceive my eyes that-"
At that moment, Tybalt stopped mid-sentence. As expected from the 2nd rank in Alla's Luminous Order branch, he was strong.
His strength also meant that he could detect danger. And now, his mind as well as the goose bumps on his skin were telling him that there was a grave danger.
He immediately looked around, but there was only Colt, the six members who first welcomed him, and some other members watching their interaction from far away, thinking that they were hidden.
A faint shiver crawled down his spine.
It's… only him?
He looked back at Colt and saw that he didn't have the same naive look on his face.
The air around Colt felt colder and sharper.
"How dare you?" Colt talked with a cold and detached voice.
"What?"
"How dare you call her a wench?" Colt asked once again, this time much louder. It was loud enough to be heard from all around the palace.
His grip on the sheathed sword tightened until the leather on the hilt creaked.
"You! Do you think you can come here and talk to me like that?"
Hearing not an apology but even more empty talk, Colt unsheathed his sword.