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“What business do you have with me?”

At Karl’s wary demeanor, Conra, the spear-wielding boy, spoke to Sophia.

“See, Master! I told you he’d be on guard if we showed up suddenly in the middle of the night like this!”

“Goodness, you sure have a lot to say. If you get bogged down by every little detail, how will you ever get anything done? Stop yapping and just watch what your master does.”

Sophia dismissed her disciple’s words as mere chatter and turned to Karl.

“Ahem. Listen here, swordsman. You look like you’re itching to work those muscles. If you do me a favor, I’ll oversee your training.”

Karl couldn’t help but be intrigued by Sophia’s offer. He had been wanting to train but hesitated due to his status as a defeated prisoner. Now, not only was he being offered a chance to train legally, but Sophia, who had easily defeated him, was offering to oversee it?

For Karl, this was a stroke of luck. He wouldn’t dare ask for it himself, but it was exactly what he wanted.

“So, what’s this favor you want from me?”

“Nothing much. How about you spar with my squire and disciple?”

“Your squire and disciple?”

Karl slowly processed Sophia’s words, his gaze naturally shifting to Conra standing beside her. He pointed at Conra with his index finger.

“You want me to fight this kid?”

“Hey! Who are you calling a kid!?”

Conra, who had been quietly listening, flared up, but his reaction was swiftly subdued by his master’s firm grip on his head.

Ignoring the commotion, Karl observed Conra closely.

“He seems talented and skilled, but isn’t he a bit too weak to face me?”

It was a brutally honest assessment, but neither Sophia nor Conra took much offense. It was an undeniable fact, after all. Sophia simply chuckled.

“Don’t make it too grand. Just think of it as a friendly spar. Conra here says he needs a wall to overcome. It might sound a bit rude, but that’s exactly what I’m asking for.”

For a martial artist of Karl’s caliber, pride in one’s lifelong dedication to their craft is inevitable. To have that pride reduced to merely being a wall for someone else to overcome could be seen as disrespectful. Sophia was pointing this out.

This wasn’t just for Karl but also for Conra. Ambition is good, but respect for one’s opponent is paramount. Sophia was subtly teaching this lesson.

“If it were me from a while ago, I would’ve refused such a request without a second thought. I might’ve even gotten angry, feeling disrespected.”

But Karl’s response was calm—almost serene. His demeanor, as if he had shed something, even caught Sophia off guard.

Regardless, what mattered wasn’t the tone but the content.

“Then?”

“Very well. Guiding a talented junior is also a swordsman’s duty. Out of respect for you, who defeated me, I’ll gladly accept.”

“Thank you! Well done, Conra!”

Sophia happily patted Conra’s back, eliciting a yelp from the boy. Karl silently mourned the inevitable handprint left on Conra’s back.

Soon, Conra stood up, defending against his master’s back slap, and bowed respectfully to Karl.

“Thank you for agreeing to my selfish and rude request.”

“It’s not that rude. After all, martial arts are about mutual refinement. Stubborn pride only leads to stagnation. And remember, this isn’t entirely selfless. Your master promised me something significant.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Karl found himself increasingly liking the boy. Despite his youthful brashness, Conra had a mature side and was a rare talent with both skill and effort. Though Karl was far superior, he knew he could gain something from sparring with the boy.

Having a wall to overcome is a driving force for growth, but having someone chasing from behind is also a reason to keep pushing forward.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

“Understood.”

“Yes, Master.”

The three quickly left the room and headed to the mansion’s backyard. The night was deep, with hardly any light, but their enhanced vision allowed them to see clearly in the dark.

“Before we start, let’s check your condition.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

As Karl agreed, Sophia examined his body with her hands. Soon, a radiant light emanated from her hands. A brief surge of Light Power flowed through Karl’s body, leaving him amazed at the newfound vitality.

“I’ve never felt this good before. Is this a secret of the Church Order?”

“Of course not. This is my secret.”

Sophia responded with a puzzled look, so unlike a clergy member that Karl couldn’t help but laugh.

In the backyard, Sophia stood in the center while Karl and Conra positioned themselves on either side, eyeing each other. Sophia asked,

“Do you need any additional light?”

“Better without.”

“Same here, Master.”

“Alright, let’s begin. Everyone ready?”

At Sophia’s question, Karl gripped his longsword, and Conra his spear, each assuming their stance. With their silent nods, Sophia also nodded.

“The match ends when one admits defeat or loses consciousness. I can heal most injuries on the spot, but try to avoid anything too dangerous. There’s no time or space limit. Feel free to wreck the backyard.”

Both Karl and Conra signaled their understanding, eager for the fight to start. Sophia, feeling like she was watching two excited hounds, clicked her tongue and raised her hand.

Suddenly, Karl spoke.

“Let’s introduce ourselves before we start. I’m Karl Hector Meyer. And you, young one?”

“Conra Mac Setanta.”

Karl chuckled softly.

“That’s a good name.”

“Then, let’s begin—!”

As Sophia’s voice echoed, the two warriors coiled like arrows on a bowstring, waiting for the signal. The moment stretched, feeling both instantaneous and eternal. And then—

The raised hand came down, and the two clashed.

+++++

A duel between a spear and a longsword is fundamentally a battle of distance.

This is due to the difference in weapon length, typically leading to a predictable pattern: the swordsman tries to close the distance, while the spearman keeps them at bay.

Thus, the swordsman’s movements are aggressive, while the spearman’s are defensive.

But Karl and Conra’s clash defied these norms.

Conra’s spear techniques were fiercely aggressive and unpredictable, like a beast on the prowl. His movements, fluid and dynamic, allowed him to unleash a relentless barrage of thrusts, constantly shifting his grip to vary the spear’s reach and rhythm.

Karl, on the other hand, was solid and nearly flawless. His swordsmanship, centered around a well-defined “sword circle,” was like a fortress built of meticulously stacked stones. He anticipated every angle, countering with precision.

While Conra’s aggression made Karl seem defensive, their movements still adhered to the classic spear vs. sword dynamic.

Karl steadily closed the distance, aiming to bring Conra within his range, while Conra’s erratic movements sought to disrupt Karl’s attempts.

Sophia, watching with folded arms, marveled at Conra’s progress.

“He’s improved quite a bit in just a few days.”

Sophia had focused on physical training and foundational skills, avoiding specific spear techniques to prevent bad habits. Yet, Conra’s natural adaptation to her training methods was evident.

His enhanced senses and reflexes, honed through Sophia’s rigorous training, allowed him to perform with newfound precision and speed.

‘This is what talent looks like.’

Sophia smiled, stroking her chin as she watched her disciple grow in real-time.

‘He won’t even need five years.’

She revised her estimate of how long it would take for Conra to reach Karl’s level. Of course, Karl himself was no slouch, and he would continue to improve. But Conra’s potential was undeniable.

‘How enviable, to have someone to spar with.’

In her past life, Lee Beom-seok had walked the path to strength alone. In this life, Sophia was so strong that finding a worthy opponent was rare.

The Paladins, though powerful, were too busy traversing the continent to spar regularly.

As Sophia pondered, the duel between Karl and Conra reached its climax. Conra was at a disadvantage. Despite his talent and effort, Karl’s overall prowess was superior.

In a battle between one creating variables and another controlling them, the latter’s advantage gradually tightened the former’s options.

Finally, Conra acknowledged his predicament and leaped back, creating distance.

“Clearly, you’re stronger than me right now. But don’t get complacent. I’ll show you everything I’ve got in this next move!”

“What? Calling me ‘old man’? …Fine, bring it on!”

“Here I go!”

Conra, brimming with excitement, spun his spear and assumed a stance, glaring at Karl. He momentarily awakened his Druid and Alchemist senses before refocusing entirely on his spearman instincts, entering a state of hyper-focus.

Sophia observed as Conra’s ethereal muscles swelled and his ethereal brain lit up, reacting with heightened agility. Karl, meanwhile, condensed his sword circle to a razor-thin layer, maintaining a calm center while gathering his strength.

The silence was broken by Conra’s shout.

“Gáe Bolg, Vein!”

With a cry in his father Setanta’s native tongue, Conra surged forward like a harpoon. Karl, initially thinking it a reckless charge, quickly realized the true threat lay in Conra’s footwork.

‘The momentum is a feint. The real danger is in his movement!’

Reacting instantly, Karl met Conra’s spear with his longsword. In a split second, their weapons clashed, and Karl deflected the spear over his shoulder, stepping deep and thrusting his sword forward.

The exchange was lightning-fast. When the dust settled, Conra’s spear had missed, and Karl’s sword rested on Conra’s shoulder.

 

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