The vast training hall of Dvalk Imperial Castle.

Sword drawn, Commander Lutus stood calmly in place, waiting for his opponents.

He silently watched as the other division commanders of the Empire—each one a famed master—readied themselves, loosening their bodies or adjusting their weapons.

“The rest of you, stand back.”

At Lutus’s command, Enya, Dorina, and Veronica had no choice but to obey.

High-ranking knights received respect wherever they went.

It was, in fact, a realm almost impossible to reach without extraordinary talent.

But those gathered here were not merely talented—they were those who had reached the pinnacle of talent, each possessing something beyond what ordinary people could ever attain.

In this place, even high-ranking knights were no different from common soldiers obeying orders.

“You’ll want to keep as far back as possible. It’s not that having witnesses is bad—but if you stay at a half measure of distance, you’ll be caught up in it.”

The three women accepted the warning.

Thus, in the vast, barren training hall, only five remained.

Lutus, along with four Masters.

“I think I’ve given you enough time. Why don’t we begin?”

Lutus’s composure revealed his confidence—he would even grant them the first strike.

None of the four Masters asked why Lutus had suddenly drawn his sword, or why he had demanded this match.

At such a height, the only language swordsmen needed was the language of blades.

And they were about to converse endlessly in that tongue.

“Who will step forward first?”

The instant the words left his mouth—

The four Masters charged him simultaneously, without a word, without prior coordination.

Each carried a striking individuality:

Terrina Lionhowl, rigid and strict in discipline.

Johan Oceanus, a narcissist who lived at his own pace.

Reinhardt Kimbell, full of sloth and laziness, treating everything as a bother.

Passius, gentle and calm, but somehow lacking.

Yet the four moved as though they were one body, without a single plan shared beforehand.

It was like watching a perfectly rehearsed stage performance.

From four directions their weapons swung toward Lutus.

The enemy was the strongest swordsman on the continent.

He had offered them the chance to strike first—now they had to go all out to bring him down.

“Not bad.”

A faint smile touched Lutus’s eyes.

The crashing force that came at him like a tidal wave proved that none of them had grown rusty over the years.

“But...”

Skill not dulled was good.

But if all they had done was stay in place, that was the same as decline.

That day, Lutus had realized something.

That this age had no shortage of gifted individuals.

And that those individuals would chase after the ones ahead of them at frightening speed.

Therefore—

You, the pillars of the Empire, the knights revered by all, who have reached the heights of mastery—

Have you truly kept moving forward?

The sword of Lutus moved.

Four weapons struck toward him.

He had but one blade to answer them with.

Simple arithmetic said one hand could not block four.

Yet with a single slash, Lutus brushed aside all four simultaneous strikes.

“If this is all you have, I’ll be greatly disappointed.”

Especially since his standards had grown very high as of late.

The division commanders recovered their weapons at once and launched their next attack.

Their swords flared with aura, burning like flames—the mark of true Masters.

And just before their aura blades could reach him—

The storm sealed within Lutus’s body was released.

* * *

Aileen could not suppress a gasp at the sight before her eyes.

‘When Commander Lutus said he had summoned people, I wondered what it was about...’

What stretched before her eyes was a massive dome of ashen storm, covering the entire training hall—rotating in constant motion.

The imperial training halls were built extremely sturdy, designed to withstand bombardments and endure even large-scale magic.

But what she saw now went far beyond any such standards.

Even the imperial guards standing watch in the distance could only gape at the vast maelstrom.

‘Well, of course. There’s a reason he’s called the Empire’s strongest knight.’

Commander of the Royal Guard.

The Continent’s Strongest Sword.

The Greatest Knight.

All these names pointed to Lutus Wardot.

And never once had he done anything to tarnish that reputation.

What made it possible was his aura of wind.

Its common name: Tempest.

True to its name, Lutus, though a knight with a sword, could unleash a power akin to a natural disaster.

The dome that now covered the entirety of the training ground was proof enough.

The sparring ground for knights spanned over a kilometer in diameter.

Yet the storm engulfed the entire space.

It was an absurd, overwhelming scale of power.

Even from afar, the sight of the ashen storm swirling was chilling.

Not knowing what was happening inside only deepened the terror.

‘I only hope no one is hurt badly enough to interfere with duty...’

Especially since her own subordinate, Passius, was inside, Aileen felt a pang of unease.

Even if Lutus had summoned them, to simply take someone else’s subordinate into such a duel was too much.

But Lutus was a man who listened to no one—not the Three Dukes, not the Imperial Princesses.

Even to the Emperor, his courtesy was nothing more than respect for the sovereign of the nation he vowed to protect.

‘For him to remain quiet all this time, then suddenly put on such a performance...’

It must have been because of that meeting with Ludger in Rederbelk.

As Aileen frowned, the storm-dome collapsed like a snuffed-out candle.

‘Is it over?’

The spar had lasted no longer than fifteen minutes.

But for those at the realm of Masters, the length of time meant little.

The density of their clash was something ordinary knights could not fathom.

For them, a single minute of battle weighed heavier than an hour-long struggle for a common knight.

When the dome vanished, the training hall was revealed—and it was a ruin.

The pristine white walls built for Dvalk Castle’s grandeur had crumbled, exposing barren skeletal frames.

The claw-mark-like gouges across the stone were frightening even to behold.

‘At this point, repair won’t be enough—it’ll have to be torn down and rebuilt entirely.’

Then, from deep within the training hall, someone slowly walked out.

From the sheer size of the figure and the way he walked, Aileen recognized him at once.

She stepped forward to meet him.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Princess. What brings you to the training hall?”

“Commander Lutus. Don’t you think you might have gone a bit too far?”

“Ah, this, you mean?”

Lutus glanced back over the ruins he had created.

“Well, I’ll cover the repair costs. I’ve got more money than I could ever spend anyway.”

“What about the other commanders? They are an important part of the Empire’s strength. If they end up requiring long convalescence, that would leave a hole in the Empire’s defenses.”

“The hole is already there. A very large one. I’m only trying to fill it now.”

At those words, a cold smile lingered on Aileen’s lips.

“Not much of a claim from someone who failed to notice a coup.”

“...I have nothing to say on that. Which is why I believe I must act all the more in the current situation.”

“What’s the condition of the other commanders?”

“They’ll be getting up soon.”

Only then could Aileen properly read his expression.

It was filled with deep satisfaction.

“At the very least, realizing that the Empire’s future is not entirely bleak—that alone is a great harvest.”

“...What exactly did you see in Rederbelk that day?”

Lutus did not answer.

He only gazed into empty space, eyes swirling with complex emotions.

He looked both regretful and pleased.

Not even Aileen could fully see through what lay in his heart.

“...Hmph. There’s no need to waste energy here. Commander Lutus, I know well your devotion to the Imperial family. So I won’t dig into what happened back then.”

“I am grateful for Your Highness’s mercy.”

“Instead, let us think of productive matters ahead. There’s something coming soon that we’ll have to act on.”

“What kind of matter?”

“We’ve received intelligence that the Elven Kingdom is preparing for war.”

At the word war, Lutus’s expression stirred.

“That... sounds interesting.”

* * *

Hugo Burteg was sweating coldly.

Whenever he looked at Ludger, his feelings grew complicated.

At first, it was naturally anger. This was the man who had driven him from power in Seorn and brought him to ruin.

But next came fear.

For no matter what, Ludger was simply the better man.

As a mage, as an instructor, and even as a human being.

Hugo was an arrogant noble, but he did not have the guts to defy someone utterly beyond his reach.

“Do you know each other?”

Yekaterina looked between Hugo and Ludger as she asked.

In that moment, Hugo had only one option.

“Hahah! Professor Ludger! It’s been far too long! My word, I nearly made a huge mistake without realizing!”

That option was to act friendly with Ludger.

Ludger silently observed him.

Those unreadable eyes and expression made Hugo flinch inwardly, even as he forced himself to appear calm on the outside.

“Well, if Professor Ludger is to guide Queen Yekaterina personally, then I can rest easy! After all, he’s Seorn’s pride, isn’t he?”

“...Is that so.”

Such a curt response—yet it landed on Hugo like a blade.

He twitched his cheeks, but kept his smile plastered on.

“Haha... I only thought that if no one else were available, I’d step up myself. But thankfully, that’s not needed. Oh dear, look at the time. I have somewhere else to be, so I’ll take my leave.”

And with that excuse, Hugo hurriedly slipped past Ludger and all but fled.

Ludger’s gaze followed his retreating back briefly, then turned toward Yekaterina.

When her guards approached in alarm, Yekaterina waved them away as if nothing was the matter.

With that, the guards withdrew, leaving only Ludger and Yekaterina alone in the reception room.

She looked at him curiously and asked,

“You two aren’t close, are you?”

The bluntness made Ludger let out a small, involuntary chuckle.

“Did it show that much?”

He had spoken formally, using honorifics.

It was the stance of a Seorn instructor speaking in an official setting.

Yekaterina pouted, oddly displeased by it.

“I’m not stupid. Seeing someone act like a frog in front of a snake—how could I think you’re friends?”

“Your perception has improved.”

Ludger nodded, as if pleased.

Yekaterina glared at him with a sulky face.

“Why is someone like that still here at Seorn? Honestly, the admiration I felt walking in has dimmed quite a bit.”

“And what kind of person do you think he is?”

“Arrogant, selfish, and ruled by his desires.”

“You saw correctly.”

“Then should someone like that really remain at Seorn?”

Her tone carried clear disapproval.

“He has his amusing sides if you watch him long enough. Just now, when he looked at me with fear yet still smiled—it made it even more so.”

“And what of it?”

“That’s just his way of surviving.”

“...I don’t understand.”

“To speak like that to someone who is practically his enemy—it must feel humiliating and shameful, given his proud nature. Could you do the same, Your Majesty?”

Yekaterina thought it over, then admitted,

“I don’t think I could.”

“That’s why I let him be. He does what most cannot. In some sense, I hold respect for that. Knowing you must crawl in the muck, yet still choosing to crawl—that’s admirable in its own way.”

“Crawling in the muck... admirable.”

“You seem to be misunderstanding. That was a metaphor. I trust you don’t actually mean to roll around in mud.”

“O-of course not! I know that! A metaphor! Obviously!”

“...I’m not so sure.”

Ludger lifted his shoulders slightly, as if conceding it was hopeless.

“More than anything, it’s better to keep him inside, where we can see him, than to drive him out.”

“Ah, that I understand. Out of sight, you never know what he might plot—but under watch, at least you can read his intentions. Right?”

Ludger gave her a nod.

That small gesture was enough to light up Yekaterina’s face with a beaming smile.

It was a look no one would associate with the Queen of the frozen North.

“Even after becoming a queen, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Do I have to change?”

The innocent reply left Ludger momentarily at a loss.

“...Well, no, I suppose not. But soon, you ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) will have to show a different face to the one you’re about to meet.”

Ludger rose to his feet.

“The Headmaster is waiting. Let us go.”