Chapter 15

Chapter 15
## Chapter 15

“I am deeply honored to receive your instruction, Sword Saint. I recognize my many shortcomings, but I will apply myself with everything I have. I humbly request your guidance.”

Lucian offered a profound bow to Eisen, showing the highest level of deference.

At this display, the veteran knight gave a modest wave of his hand, appearing slightly flustered by the formality.

“Now, please, there is no need for such ceremony. I may be called a Sword Saint, but in truth, I am just an elderly man waiting for my twilight years. Furthermore, you are a contender for the position of family patriarch, Third Prince. You should not incline your head so readily.”

Despite the old man’s humble words, Lucian remained entirely on guard.

The title of ‘Sword Saint’ was reserved exclusively for those transcendent beings who had reached the boundaries of Circulation, achieved a total awakening, and polished their martial craft to its absolute zenith.

Even looking back through the expansive annals of the Empire, there was only a solitary recorded instance where two Sword Saints lived at once. Even then, it was merely for a brief period before the elder master succumbed to age. To put it plainly, it was a phenomenon that rarely graced a single century.

For Lucian, who had been consumed by the path of the blade in his previous existence, the gravity of that rank carried a weight others couldn’t fathom.

“I would never speak ill of the House of Valdek, but how could I show anything less than total reverence to a warrior who has attained the rank of Sword Saint, regardless of his role as a retainer? Beyond any social standing, Sir Eisen, you are a figure who commands the respect of every true knight.”

“Ho-ho.”

As Lucian spoke with such earnestness, a spark of curiosity ignited in Eisen’s gaze.

The other royal siblings had certainly treated Eisen with high regard. However, that was the calculated respect of political candidates vying for the leadership of a Grand Ducal House. The endorsement of a Sword Saint was a force powerful enough to shift the tides of succession in a heartbeat.

In contrast, the veneration Lucian displayed felt like the raw, genuine admiration of one swordsman for another.

‘This is peculiar. Usually, the scions of high nobility view martial prowess as little more than a functional asset to be exploited.’

It was a logical perspective, in a sense. These youths were products of a peaceful era, accustomed to seeing only average knights and masses of foot soldiers. To them, a champion capable of facing a hundred foes likely seemed like a tall tale or just a common soldier who could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Yet, the Third Prince carried himself like someone who had personally traversed the grueling path of the sword.

—I once thought he was a lost cause, but upon closer inspection, he is a quite remarkable youth. It wasn’t just a matter of talent; it was his internal resolve that caught me off guard. You will see what I mean when you encounter him.

Eisen thought back to the words the Grand Duke had shared before this meeting. He felt he was finally grasping the true intent behind that statement.

Still, he couldn’t grant Lucian preferential treatment based solely on a single impressive interaction. For the time being, he resolved to test the boy’s limits using the same regimen the other princes had endured.

“I hear you. If you are so determined, it would be churlish of me to keep rejecting your politeness. Proceed in whatever manner makes you comfortable, Third Prince.”

“I am grateful for your patience.”

“In that case, we shall commence your instruction at once. Begin by running laps around the perimeter of the training grounds.”

“Understood, sir.”

Lucian replied instantly and broke into a run. He didn’t pause to ask for a reason, nor did he show a shred of reluctance. His grim determination actually took Eisen by surprise, despite it being his own command.

“Wait, Third Prince. Just a moment.”

“Yes? Did I do something wrong?”

“Do you have no inquiries? For instance, why I am making you run, how many laps are required, or what the objective of this exercise is?”

“I have my doubts, but I trust that you ordered it because it serves my development. If you chose not to provide a detailed explanation, I am certain there is a valid reason for that as well. As a student, my duty is simply to obey the master’s instructions.”

The moment he finished his sentence, Lucian’s legs were back in motion. Eisen stared after him, a bewildered, dry chuckle escaping his throat.

The concept was simple to voice, but was it truly that easy to execute? It was human nature to shrink away from seemingly pointless toil. High-ranking nobles, especially, were wired to weigh gains and losses in every breath. Yet, this boy ran without a trace of hesitation or a flicker of skepticism.

‘The Third Prince is indeed a rare breed, Your Grace.’

A sense of keen interest took root in Sword Saint Eisen’s heart. Unlike his sessions with the other pampered young lords, he felt a budding sensation that he might actually be molding a genuine knight this time.

—

Lucian circled the expansive training field in total silence.

In reality, his response to Eisen’s query had been a partial deception. His lack of hesitation didn’t stem purely from blind faith in Eisen, but from the fact that he already understood the mechanics of this trial.

‘To a bystander, it looks like basic cardio, but it’s actually a multi-faceted diagnostic of the student.’

It measured how well they took direction, especially when told to run instead of swinging a sword. It checked their baseline physical endurance before the real work began. It tested their willpower—how long they would push themselves if no finish line was set.

Running was a lens through which a master could observe everything from a student’s ego to their physical stamina and mental fortitude. In truth, aside from raw talent, it revealed every vital metric needed to evaluate a pupil.

‘Of course, if they lack talent, they’re usually discarded based on their attitude or lack of grit… but as the son of the Grand Duke, Eisen is obligated to train him regardless.’

A cynical smirk touched Lucian’s mouth. Influence was a powerful tool. It could force a master to take on a student they might otherwise avoid.

However, from a different perspective, this was a prime chance to earn high marks from the Sword Saint. Regardless of their spirit, a noble child accustomed to a life of ease would eventually hit a predictable wall of fatigue.

In that specific arena, Lucian knew he could deliver a performance that shattered expectations.

‘I’ve shown him my discipline; now I have to show my grit. It can’t be helped. I’ll just have to accept being bedridden for a few days.’

His health had returned, but his conditioning was nonexistent. It was a mathematical certainty that he would tire fast, so if he wanted to make an impression, he had to keep running until his body physically gave out.

Fortunately, this wasn’t just any household; it was the House of Valdek. Even if he collapsed with failing lungs, they undoubtedly possessed the medicinal resources to bring him back from the brink.

Hardening his focus, Lucian pushed off the turf and accelerated.

An hour slipped by.

“….”

“….”

Thud, thud.

The steady rhythm of Lucian’s footfalls continued to pulse through the air. His breath remained steady, and his stride hadn’t faltered once. Sword Saint Eisen’s eyes grew wide at the inexplicable sight.

But the person most shocked by the situation was Lucian himself.

‘What is happening? Why am I not feeling the exhaustion?’

By his own calculations, he should have hit the ground long ago. At the very least, his muscles should be screaming and his lungs burning for air. Unless one was a transcendent being, this was how biology worked.

Yet, inexplicably, Lucian’s frame felt no fatigue at all.

“Young Master, are you quite alright?”

“I… for some reason, I feel perfectly fine.”

In response to Eisen’s stunned inquiry, Lucian answered with a look of pure confusion.

He kept the pace for another half hour, but his limbs felt buoyant and energized. Eisen, appearing to have reached a conclusion about Lucian’s physiological state, allowed a faint, strained smile to appear.

“It seems there is no utility in continuing this test. Please, halt and come over here.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Lucian walked over, Eisen reached out and grasped his forearm. He pressed his fingers against the pulsing veins.

“I am going to perform a quick diagnostic. Stay perfectly still, even if the sensation feels unusual.”

The moment Lucian gave his consent, a cool, invigorating wave of energy flooded through his wrist and spread through his body. Lucian gave a small start at the feeling, which was entirely foreign to him.

‘Is he utilizing his mana as a sensory probe to map my internal systems?’

He was floored by the skill involved. Projecting mana externally was a feat of great difficulty, yet Eisen was manipulating it with the precision of a surgeon. Even as the energy reached every corner of his anatomy, Lucian felt nothing more than a mild, tingly sensation. Eisen had clearly adjusted the frequency of his mana to match Lucian’s perfectly, preventing any internal friction.

It was a stark reminder of the dizzying heights occupied by a Sword Saint.

“This cannot be…!”

Eisen’s eyes darted with shock as he maintained the scan for several minutes. Finally, he retracted his energy and looked Lucian directly in the eye.

“Young Master, I require some honest answers. Have you been attempting to practice Circulation on your own recently?”

“Yes, I have.”

Lucian didn’t miss a beat. The previous soul inhabiting this body had already been taught the basics of Circulation, so it wasn’t an unusual claim. Unlike the physical toll of swordsmanship, it was a meditative process that was relatively easy to grasp with external help.

Eisen was aware of this, so he moved past that initial confirmation. The true inquiry was about to begin.

“Tell me, during your sessions of Circulation, did you encounter any resistance, pressure, or internal pain?”

“No, none.”

“You are saying you didn’t even feel a minor obstruction?”

“None whatsoever. It moved as freely as a rushing stream.”

“Ha… Haha. Hahaha!”

A whirlwind of expressions swept across Eisen’s face—shock, triumph, sorrow, relief, and deep thought. There were layers of emotion there that Lucian couldn’t even begin to decode.

Lucian didn’t fully understand the old man’s internal turmoil, but he had a strong suspicion about the cause.

‘He must have detected that my mana circuits are already entirely unobstructed.’

In hindsight, the reason he hadn’t tired out earlier was likely tied to this unique biology. As a man who had failed to reach the summit of swordsmanship in his prior life, Lucian could only speculate.

Eisen, however, was a Sword Saint—one of the few to ever reach that peak. He had likely perceived something far more profound within Lucian’s physical vessel.

‘I want to ask for details, but…’

It would be highly suspicious for a prince who hadn’t even mastered the basics of the blade to ask such advanced, technical questions. It was safer to remain silent until Eisen offered more information.

After a long period of silence, Eisen finally exhaled a heavy sigh.

“I see. I believe I understand the situation now.”

“Is there a problem, sir?”

“No, it is quite the opposite. Your physical form, Young Master, is more perfectly aligned with the Lion Heart Sword than any I have ever seen.”

“I’m sorry? What does that imply…?”

“Third Prince.”

Eisen’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of extreme gravity.

“Instead of focusing on becoming the heir to House Valdek, would you be willing to set your sights on becoming the next Sword Saint?”

“…!?”

Lucian was so blindsided by the proposal that he was momentarily speechless. Relinquish the succession to pursue the mantle of the Sword Saint?

Seeing Lucian’s shock, Eisen continued in a measured tone.

“You seem to think it’s a minor thing that your Circulation is without obstacles, but in reality, that is a divine gift.”

Circulation was the lifelong labor of cleansing a human body of its natural impurities. Even if a person practiced every single day without fail, the task of opening and widening those internal paths was an exhausting, decades-long journey. Most who started in their childhood didn’t see the completion of that process until they were well into middle age.

Furthermore, that progress only held if it was paired with the mana growth generated by constant training. If a student slackened or lost focus, their pathways would remain constricted until their final breath.

“But in your case, Young Master, every single path is wide open from the start. Do you grasp the magnitude of this?”

“Does it not simply mean I have a head start of several decades over other warriors?”

“It signifies much more than that.”

“Then what else is there?”

Lucian was genuinely intrigued. No matter how he analyzed it, he couldn’t see a benefit beyond that massive shortcut. At best, he assumed it meant that any performance-enhancing elixirs would be vastly more efficient.

As Lucian looked at him with curiosity, Eisen spoke with a voice that actually trembled.

“The moment all internal pathways are cleared, the physical body is considered fully purified. There is generally no state higher than that. And yet, in your body, the refining effects of Circulation are still subtly active. It means your ceiling is higher than what was thought to be the human limit.”

“…!”