Chapter 168: Do You Feel The Difference in Power? (7)

“Do you think you can handle my secret, Myle?”

Myle gulped. Keter was not his usual, relaxed self; right now, he seemed like the most dangerous person in this world as he was being illuminated by the moonlight.

Even so, Myle approached Keter and said, “Even though we are step-brothers, I consider you family. So, I want to hear my little brother’s secret.”

“If you insist on hearing it, then... I guess I have no choice. But remember...” Keter placed a finger on his lips and said, “It’s a secret nobody else can know.”

To that, Myle nodded energetically.

“Good. Honestly, I...” Keter trailed off.

He looked incredibly serious, and that seriousness made Myle tense as well. The reason why Keter, a free spirit and brilliant at everything, was staying at Sefira—that secret was finally about to be revealed.

“...I don’t know how to swim.”

“Huh?”

Myle picked his ear. He thought something had happened to his hearing, but it was fine.

With the same serious face, Keter continued, “I hate going into water.”

“...What does that have to do with my question?”

Myle had asked Keter why he was helping Sefira, but Keter’s answer to that was that he didn’t know how to swim. It seemed completely unrelated.

That was when Keter’s expression changed back to his regular, playful self.

“Of course, it has nothing to do with your question, Big Brother.”

“What? You just said you would tell me your secret...”

“Yeah. I did tell you my secret.”

“That’s...!”

Myle felt like someone had hit him on the head. Surely, Keter had told him a secret, but it was one completely unrelated to his question. It was a joke, but technically, there was nothing wrong with what Keter said.

“Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“You have to tell me your secret, too. Were you going to just rob me like that?”

“How does that work...”

“Deals between family need to be even more airtight, you know.”

“Phew... I’ll tell you once I’ve caught my breath.”

Myle had been sitting out in the night breeze because he couldn’t sleep, but a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him. The towering anxiety and tension he had been carrying collapsed all at once with just a few words from Keter.

Myle chuckled. He found this situation ridiculous, but he liked it.

“Keter, you’re going to keep my secret safe, too, right?”

“Mostly, excluding circumstances where I can’t help it.”

“I walk on my toes—even now, I’m tiptoeing. It’s become a habit.”

“I can’t tell because of your shoes. Why do you walk on your toes?”

“...To be honest, it’s because I’m embarrassed of my height. Look.”

Myle lowered his heels, making him slightly shorter. Keter couldn’t understand it, but Myle seemed serious.

“Hissop, our eldest brother, is the tallest of us all. But I, the second-eldest, am smaller than Anis or Taragon. I need to be on my tiptoes to be similar to them.

Sigh...

This is a secret that not even Father knows. Please keep it that way.”

“Big Brother, when I meet Master Franken, I’ll make sure to learn lengthening surgery from him.”

“Hm? Oh... Sure, thank you.”

Myle didn’t understand Keter, but he could feel that Keter was trying to make him feel better. He smiled.

“Oh, you're here because you can’t sleep, right? Since I’m here, I’ll take care of that for you,” Keter said.

Keter raised his hand. Afraid, Myle stepped back.

“W-what do you mean by that?”

“It’s alright. Trust me, Big Brother. It’s just one hit. You won’t even feel the pain.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I think I’ll be able to sleep now once I lie down.”

“Hm, really? What a shame...”

He lowered his hand, but his hand was still stiff with force as if he was disappointed.

Myle pushed Keter toward the door and said, “Please leave now. You need to sleep as well.”

“Let me know if you can’t sleep, okay? All it takes is one hit.”

“Alright. I’ll call you the next time this happens.”

Myle could only get Keter to leave after pinky-promising him.

Thud!

Thanks to Keter’s advice, Myle was finally able to let go of everything. The tower of anxiety had crumbled, and at last, he fell into the sweetest sleep in the world.

* * *

It was the day of Group B’s team tournament.

“It’s alright. Don’t be nervous, Taragon. Your results will reflect all the effort you put in,” Myle said comfortingly, patting Taragon on the shoulder.

“My results can’t reflect my effort, Myle. I only worked hard for three months,” Taragon replied, almost on the verge of tears.

“...Then your results will exceed your effort since Keter helped you a lot.”

Taragon smiled vibrantly once Myle mentioned Keter.

Anis, who had already finished his match, gave Taragon useful and important advice.

“You and I—we are not Keter. Don’t try to do something by yourself. This is a team fight, not individual. Remember that they don’t give you extra points because you do something exceptional.”

As Taragon was about to head to the waiting room after hearing words of encouragement from Myle and Anis, someone unexpected blocked his path.

“Keter?”

“I wanted to give you a piece of advice as well, Big Brother.”

“Really?!”

Taragon couldn’t believe his luck. Every lesson from Keter had been as valuable as treasures, even if they were delivered a bit violently. But right now, Keter was offering to explain things. Taragon had no reason to refuse.

“If you meet Norman as your opponent, just forfeit.”

“Huh?”

“Keter, what kind of advice is that? I know that Sir Norman is strong, but surrendering without fighting? That would hurt Sefira’s pride,” Anis rebutted, as he valued honor.

Taragon also seemed to disagree, though not as much as Anis.

“I mean, Sir Norman is strong, but don’t I have a chance?”

The power Norman had displayed in the battle royale was incredible. He had fought two four-star knights alone and overwhelmed the rest of the participants as well. He was most likely a five-star Master.

However, Taragon’s pride was no less than that of a five-star Master. He had taken down numerous knights in the battle royale and held his own against Regan, a four-star knight, along with several three-star knights. On top of that, surrendering so easily wounded his pride, when Sefira’s name was being praised thanks to Keter’s success.

“It’s fine if you choose to fight him, but just know that if you surrender before the match begins, Norman won’t be able to do anything to you. But once the battle starts, you won’t even get the chance to say the word. Sure, the rules will prohibit Norman from killing you, but you’ll be left in awful shape. Still, don’t worry—I’ll make sure to get your revenge.”

Taragon flinched.

“W-what animosity does Sir Norman harbor against me?”

“Well, nothing toward you, but it seems like he has some toward me.”

“What?!”

“It seems like you see Sir Norman to be quite strong, Keter,” Anis interrupted.

To that, Keter nodded and said, “Yeah, he’s strong. Even if the three Masters in this tournament ganged up on Norman, they wouldn’t be able to beat him.”

“W-what?!”

“Even with three Masters?”

“Sir Norman is

that

strong?”

Myle and Katherine, who had been listening quietly, were also surprised.

The three Masters in this tournament were all strong; they weren’t just ordinary or mediocre people. Rajis the Sword Dragon, Henya the Sword Witch, and Pashian the Red Wolf—each one held a title that marked them as outstanding warriors among the young generation of the Lillian Kingdom.

On the other hand, Norman had no title and was known by no one. He was just another nameless knight. Of course, it was clear his power was similar to that of a Master, as he had defeated all the remaining opponents even after fighting two four-star knights. Still, it was hard to believe that he would win against three Masters.

“T... Then Keter, is Sir Norman stronger than you?” Taragon asked.

Keter chuckled and replied, “No way.”

“Phew, so he’s not

that

strong.”

“Anyway, if you want to ignore my advice and get hurt, I won’t stop you.”

“Alright, okay. I’ll forfeit.”

This was what Keter liked about Taragon—he was someone who could be convinced and accept.

Sefira’s future is bright.

Anis disagreed with this, but he didn’t press further as it was Taragon’s choice to make.

And so, the team tournament for Group B began, and the event proceeded without any major twists. Pashian, Jordic, and Norman—the group’s most promising contenders—won battle after battle.

Taragon’s team kept winning thanks to favorable matchups, but in the end, their luck ran out—they had to face Jordic. Though officially a four-star knight, Jordic was nearly at the level of a Master, and Taragon’s team couldn’t stand a chance against him.

“It’s better than forfeiting against Norman.”

“Sixth place—I think he did better than expected.”

Myle, who had been completely absorbed in the battle, suddenly realized that Keter was watching beside him.

Now that I see, the nobles seem much more relaxed and bright.

Just yesterday, the nobles had been on edge. But now, they sat comfortably, watching the tournament as if nothing had happened. Clearly, something had changed behind the scenes like yesterday, but Myle didn’t let it bother him too much. As Keter had said, things just happen.

When I get back home, I should propose creating an intelligence department.

Myle decided to ask about what had happened later and turned his attention back to the tournament, which was already nearing its end. It had progressed much faster than Group A’s. The two who had made it to the finals were Pashian the Red Wolf and Norman.

“It seemed like you admired Keter. You should have missed the finals like he did.”

Pashian provoked Norman as they stood in the middle of the battle ring.

“Well, I’m a greedy person who only takes what I like.”

“You will regret refusing my offer.”

The day before Group B’s team tournament, Pashian sent a servant to Norman and delivered a message.

“If we meet in the finals, don’t waste my energy and forfeit. In return, I will give you five thousand gold. Remember that Marquis Galahind is backing me. We have the power to crush that small family of yours.”

The servant never returned; he had gone missing. Pashian could only conclude that Norman had killed him, which was a strong refusal.

“Both teams, please move to the edge of the ring.”

At the judge’s intervention, Pashian and Norman both walked away.

I have to save my Martial Spirit for Keter, but losing doesn’t suit me.

Pashian had planned to save Martial Spirit, his ultimate technique, for his match against Keter. However, he concluded that defeating Norman—a powerful yet unknown warrior—would be impossible without it. That was why he tried to persuade Norman, hoping to conserve his strength, but Norman refused.

I can tolerate Keter, who is from a master family. But how dare an ordinary noble—not even a low noble—look down on me?

Pashian’s pride had already been wounded from Keter’s condescending attitude, and now, that anger was being redirected at Norman.

As soon as the match began, Pashian raised his sword high and shouted, “May the Emperor of Steel watch over me!”

The Emperor of Steel, the founding hero of the Adeus Kingdom, was a Martial Spirit specialized for defense. A fiery orange aura enveloped Pashian. With defensive power strong enough to block even sword aura, he charged forward alone, leaving his teammates behind.

Norman, too, acted on his own. This was no longer a team tournament—both sides had their champions rushing in for a duel. But no one complained. After all, nothing is more frustrating than watching powerful fighters hold back for others' sake.

Even Norman, who had previously defeated four-star knights with a mere flick of his finger, didn’t take Pashian lightly. He swung his long Aura Sword with full strength.

Kaboom!!!

Trusting his own defense, Pashian didn’t dodge or block Norman’s sword. Instead, he powered straight through it.

“He blocked it!”

“Woooaaah!”

A true battle between the strong could be decided in a single strike, and it looked like this was one of those moments. Norman’s Aura Sword, which he had been so confident in, was stopped by the orange-red aura. Meanwhile, Pashian still had both hands free.

“I’ll be taking one of your arms!”

Just as Pashian’s sword came down to slash Norman’s right arm...

“What?!”

...Norman’s right arm twisted in a direction impossible for human joints, narrowly avoiding the blade. Pashian was the only one close enough to witness the unnatural movement. To the distant spectators, it merely looked like Norman had dodged skillfully.

But not everyone missed it.

“Hm... You were that, huh?”

Sefira’s descendants possessed hawk-like vision. Keter’s vision was especially good, and he had been watching Norman closely.

“Now I know your true identity.”

Keter, having finally uncovered Norman’s secret, looked on with intrigued amusement.