Chapter 448. **Forced Growth**
—
Even after that, whenever he got the chance, **Apsel** continued to linger around **Dietrich**.
“He’s a rare guest from the outside world—couldn’t it just be simple curiosity?”
**Baek** chuckled as he said so.
But if it were merely curiosity sparked by an *external stimulus*, there was no reason for Apsel to follow Dietrich alone.
The sight was more like a duckling trailing after its mother duck.
It wasn’t as if I could simply grab him and force him into training.
In the end, there was only one truly effective method.
“Your basic stance is flawless.”
I openly trained Dietrich.
At the dwarves’ training ground where swords were practiced, I oversaw Dietrich’s blade.
Under the gaze of all the surrounding dwarves, Dietrich swung his sword, and at his refined posture, I nodded.
“…I learned it from my mother.”
He was referring to the Pirate Queen.
There was even pride in his expression.
It showed clearly how deeply Dietrich respected her.
Indeed, his posture was impeccable.
He was motivated enough to go out hunting on his own.
With talent added on top of that, in just three more years, he would easily make a name for himself as a master swordsman in Pangaenia.
However—
*Swish!*
“…!”
“Never close your eyes, no matter what. Your sword must react before your eyes do.”
As I extended my blade right before Dietrich’s eyes, he instinctively shut them.
If this had been a battlefield where a single instant determined life or death, Dietrich would already be dead.
“Again. Block it.”
“Yes!”
Shouting as he set his stance, Dietrich prepared himself.
Just as promised, I slowly unfolded my swordsmanship.
The *form* of swordsmanship was meaningless to me now, but for Dietrich, form still mattered.
Only after crossing blades several times was I able to pinpoint his problem.
“You’ve barely had any experience sparring with someone who truly mastered swordsmanship, have you?”
“That’s… yes.”
“The only ones you crossed swords with were pirates, right?”
“…That’s correct.”
“And they wouldn’t have fought you seriously, given that you’re the Queen’s child.”
“….”
A silent affirmation.
He had indeed learned proper swordsmanship, but his opponents had only ever been pirates.
While pirates did learn swordplay, their techniques were specialized for boarding ships and killing targets in raids.
They couldn’t exactly go all-out against the Pirate Queen’s child.
More likely than not, they had held back and let him win.
That imbalance was bound to cause problems.
Swordsmanship honed under such conditions was destined to deteriorate.
I glanced around.
“….”
“….”
The dwarves were staring blankly in this direction.
Regardless of age or gender, their stances with the sword were sharply disciplined.
Swordsmanship forged through countless years of war had clearly been passed down.
“Is there a warrior here who wants to spar with this one?”
“…!”
Dietrich’s shoulders twitched.
It looked like he had never even considered the possibility of sparring with dwarves.
At that, a middle-aged dwarf raised his hand.
“I’ll do it.”
“You may fight as if it’s real combat.”
“You mean we can use real blades?”
“Of course.”
“That could be dangerous.”
With real weapons, someone could die.
And with high probability, that someone would be Dietrich.
I shrugged.
“If he dies, so be it.”
“L-Lord Phantom…!”
“Think of it as the real thing.”
What Dietrich lacked was real combat.
Combat so intense that death truly felt possible.
This place was perfect for that.
It was filled with warriors who had devoted themselves to slaughter.
There were no warriors more starved for victory than these.
*Roll around once and see.*
I gave a crooked smile to the frightened Dietrich.
Then I looked toward the dark region of the tunnel beyond.
*As expected, he’s watching.*
Apsel.
He, too, was observing the training ground from afar.
This training ground was originally where Apsel should have been.
But with my presence, Apsel couldn’t step inside.
And his gaze was fixed solely on Dietrich.
*Let’s see how long you can keep just watching.*
There was no rush.
It wouldn’t take long anyway.
*
*
Sixteen matches. Zero wins. Sixteen losses.
That was the result of Dietrich’s bouts that day.
He fought sixteen times—and lost all sixteen.
Even against dwarves of comparable skill, the outcome was the same.
By the time he returned, utterly exhausted, Dietrich collapsed the moment he reached his room.
*Still, his attitude—accepting his own shortcomings—is admirable.*
Looking at the sleeping Dietrich, I thought so.
At this level, he was commendable.
After every match, I reviewed the bout with him and pointed out his flaws.
Dietrich was quick to acknowledge his problems and tried to correct them.
Though his first day ended in the catastrophic record of sixteen straight losses, his will to keep fighting even through defeat deserved praise.
At this rate, after just a few days, his wins and losses would balance out.
*His form is fine. The problem is aura.*
Aura—the term for internal energy, inner power, mana.
To reach the pinnacle, managing one’s aura was just as important as swordsmanship.
But Dietrich couldn’t properly control his aura.
The point where he released his sword and the point where he released his aura didn’t align.
*His meridians are twisted—that’s why the misalignment occurs.*
I pondered for a moment.
I knew his meridians were tangled, and I knew how to fix it.
All I had to do was untangle them.
The problem was—I had never done this before.
*I’d have to untangle his meridians using my mana…*
Passing my mana into another person’s body was itself unprecedented for me.
Especially since my mana could no longer be called “ordinary mana.”
Though I had stabilized it to some extent, it was still a mixture of *everything*.
If I let it flow recklessly into Dietrich’s body, it could cause serious harm.
But if I left things as they were, Dietrich’s growth would hit a ceiling.
He would never become the true master of the Guardian Holy Sword—nor rise as the King of the Kingdom of Cernil.
—*The candidates for the throne are still alive. Are you saying you’ll burn them all to death just to become king?*
—*Yes. If necessary…!*
The conversation I’d had with Dietrich when we first met resurfaced.
The resolve to become king even if he had to burn them all.
From the moment he stole a companion sword and approached the Guardian Holy Sword, he must have known he could die.
*Let’s do it.*
Slowly, I placed my palm against Dietrich’s back.
And with utmost caution, I drew up my mana.
Opposing mana naturally collided.
But the difference in rank was so vast that Dietrich’s energies scrambled desperately to avoid being devoured.
That, at least, made things easier.
*…This is the first time I’ve controlled my mana at such a fine level.*
Even so, cold sweat streamed down my body.
My mana was like an ocean, but what I needed was less than the eye of a needle.
I had to spread that needle-thin amount throughout Dietrich’s entire meridian system to untangle it.
It was like a fifty-meter-tall giant trying to untangle a tiny knot of thread with his fingers.
Could a giant even grasp such a delicate thread properly?
And not only grasp it—but carefully pull apart a single strand.
If I applied even a little too much force, the thread could snap, or the knot itself could vanish entirely.
A task demanding concentration beyond imagination.
“….”
Before I knew it, sweat was dripping from my forehead.
More difficult than swinging a sword.
More difficult than facing a powerful enemy.
Untangling the twisted meridians and letting mana circulate evenly throughout the body.
*The lower dantian is done.*
Had three hours passed?
Only after sweat had soaked the floor beneath me did I finally complete the first stage.
I had succeeded in untangling his meridians.
Even at this point, his body and aura would no longer clash.
And yet—
Something felt lacking.
It felt like I could do more.
*…Open the middle dantian.*
The lower dantian merely gathers qi and allows its use.
Most humans can only ever open the lower dantian.
Opening the middle dantian allows aura to be transformed.
To use techniques like sword aura or sword force, one must open the middle dantian.
And upon opening the upper dantian, one enters the realm of superhumans—
What people commonly call *transcendence*.
All of these must normally be achieved by stacking one’s own cultivation.
They cannot be opened through external aid.
By common sense, such a thing was impossible.
*For some reason… I feel like I can do it.*
I rolled my neck once to either side, then placed my hand on Dietrich’s back again.
*
*
“…?”
Dietrich woke up and tilted his head.
*Why does my body feel so light?*
Despite pushing himself so hard the day before, his body felt incredibly light.
Not even a hint of muscle soreness—vitality surged through his entire body.
Had his senses gone strange from overexertion?
*Lord Phantom looks like he has dark circles under his eyes… must be my imagination.*
On the contrary, Phantom looked more exhausted than Dietrich himself.
But that had to be an illusion.
There was no way Phantom could be tired.
After washing quickly, Dietrich headed straight back to the training ground.
“You’re back again?”
“Seriously. After getting beaten that badly yesterday.”
“Didn’t you lose every single match? Hah.”
The dwarves snickered.
They hadn’t expected Dietrich—who’d suffered sixteen straight losses—to show up again so early in the morning.
“Anyone want to spar with this one?”
“I will!”
“Me!”
At Phantom’s words, the dwarven warriors eagerly stepped forward.
When the bout soon began, Dietrich recalled yesterday’s defeats.
*Today, I’ll win at least once.*
“I’ll make sure you never step foot in this training ground again. This is a place only for real warriors.”
The dwarf facing him spoke while holding a greatsword as large as his own body.
A clear taunt—you weren’t a warrior.
Dietrich swallowed hard.
From yesterday’s bouts, he knew there wasn’t a single dwarf here weaker than him.
“Hup!”
The dwarf kicked off the ground the instant the match began.
Leaping high, he brought his blade down as if to split Dietrich’s head in two.
*BANG!*
The force was so immense it gouged the ground.
“Kill him!”
“Aristol!”
“Show him what you’ve got!”
The dwarves cheered excitedly.
If that blow landed, bones would shatter.
Dietrich calmly tracked his opponent’s movement.
Then, once more, the dwarf launched himself into the air.
*An opening!*
Big movements always left gaps.
And this was an attack pattern he had already seen once.
Considering the weight of that greatsword, there was no way to change direction mid-swing.
Dietrich twisted his body slightly, aiming for the opening.
*Grin.*
A smile crept across the dwarf’s lips.
Then, at an impossible speed and angle, he twisted the greatsword.
A feat impossible unless the blade weighed nothing at all.
Now it was Dietrich who couldn’t evade.
But—
He didn’t close his eyes.
Instinctively, Dietrich thrust his sword forward to meet the charging dwarf.
*Slash!*
“Huh…?”
“W-what just happened?”
“Aristol’s sword…!”
The dwarves stared at Dietrich in shock.
Because Dietrich had cleaved the greatsword clean in two.
The dwarf he’d been fighting stared blankly at his shattered blade.
But he wasn’t the only one stunned.
*W-what… is this?*
Dietrich’s eyes trembled.
He’d sworn to stay calm—but there was no way he couldn’t be shocked.
Because on Dietrich’s blade—
*Ziiiiing!*
…**Sword aura** was now clearly gathering.
