EPISODE 36: The Legend's Power

The following morning, long before the sun had fully risen at the eastern horizon and while the sea air of Kaigan was still bitterly cold, Zenoda was already awake. His body, conditioned by the disciplined routine he had built in Koreson, moved automatically. He made his bed and walked directly toward the bathroom at the back of the wooden house.

The cold well water was invigorating against the mortal nerves of his body. After cleaning up and putting on a casual linen shirt and dark trousers, Zenoda rolled his neck and prepared to head to the kitchen. His plan for the morning was to cook breakfast himself — the habit he had maintained at Master Vivaldi's inn and during camp in the forest.

But when he stepped into the small dining room, his nose was immediately greeted by the warm aroma of toasted bread, a herb-spiced omelette, and fragrant hot vegetable broth.

A carefully laid meal was already set on the table.

Mirida, who had been wearing her neat apron since before dawn, was pouring herbal tea into cups. The middle-aged woman turned and smiled softly at the sight of her freshly washed son.

"Zeno," Mirida greeted warmly. "The food is ready. Come, sit and eat while it's still hot."

Watching this completely ordinary, attentive family scene, Zenoda paused at the kitchen doorway for a moment.

(Ah...) Zenoda murmured inwardly, a strange yet comfortable warmth creeping into his chest. (I almost forgot that I'm actually in my own home right now. Not in Master Vivaldi's VIP room, and I don't need to cook for three clownish nobles this morning.)

Zenoda nodded obediently and pulled out the wooden chair. He sat across from Brunt, who was already ready to eat his breakfast. That morning was filled with easy conversation and the family laughter Zenoda had deeply missed.

After finishing breakfast, Brunt patted his full stomach and stood, reaching for his new axe.

"Come on, my boy," Brunt called. "Let's finish the rest of that wood out back before the sun gets too hot."

Zenoda and his father began splitting the large logs. Swing, split, stack. The simple routine was very calming. But since Zenoda remembered he had important business with his mother at the training grounds, he didn't hold back his mortal muscle output.

Zenoda applied an extremely efficient technique of weight leverage manipulation. Crack. Crack. Crack. In under twenty minutes, the stack of logs that would have taken a normal person half a day to split was neatly finished.

Brunt, who had only managed to split five logs himself, stood frozen, wiping his sweat. He looked at his axe, then at his son with an expression of pure disbelief, and could only shake his head slowly.

"What god has possessed you, Son?" Brunt murmured quietly, conceding any comparison with his child.

Not long after the physical work was done, Zenoda heard approaching footsteps from the village road.

"Instructor Zenoda!"

The cheerful call came from Annesia. The fire mage was walking along the fence of the front yard — and surprisingly, she wasn't alone. Walking beside her was Princess Elara, wearing dark-blue training clothes designed for high mobility, rather than the long dresses she usually wore.

Zenoda walked to the fence. "Yes, Annesia. And... Princess Elara."

Hearing the formal title in Zenoda's tone, Elara furrowed her brow in confusion.

(Princess?) Elara thought. (Since when does that insufferable young man address me with an honorific and such a polite tone around this village? Usually he just calls me 'Hei' or 'Elara' at best.)

Annesia immediately got to the point. "Instructor, Uncle Garrick is asking for you. He's requested your help monitoring the physical training of the beginner adventurers at the training camp this morning."

"Understood, I'll head there shortly," Zenoda answered.

Zenoda jogged back inside to his room, picked up his katana in its ebony sheath, and fastened it at his hip. Just as he was stepping off the porch to join Annesia and Elara, the wooden house door opened.

Mirida stepped out and stood on the porch, looking like any ordinary housewife, drying her hands on a kitchen cloth.

"Zeno," Mirida called.

"Yes, Mother?"

"It seems I'll be a little late for our planned meeting this morning — I still need to help your father finish some work in the back fields and attend to a few postponed household tasks," Mirida said gently. "Would you mind waiting for me at the training ground for a little while?"

Zenoda nodded obediently. "Of course, Mother. I'll wait for you there."

After saying his goodbyes, Zenoda, Annesia, and Elara walked together, leaving the yard heading toward the adventurers' training area at the edge of the village.

As they walked along the quiet dirt road, Elara — who had been carrying her curiosity all this time — finally asked.

"Who was that middle-aged woman just now?" Elara said quietly. "She looked remarkably graceful for an ordinary village resident."

Zenoda turned. "Ehhhh... She's my moth—"

Before Zenoda could finish his sentence, Annesia — walking between them — cut in with characteristic enthusiasm.

"She's Instructor Zenoda's mother, Your Highness!" Annesia announced proudly.

Zenoda could only exhale a long breath and press two fingers to his temple. "Huhhhh..." Having a student who was too eagerly volunteering his personal information was sometimes very inconvenient.

At that revelation, Elara's eyes went round. She looked at Zenoda with an expression full of curiosity.

As they walked, Annesia quietly leaned toward Elara and whispered into the Princess's ear, explaining the unique family dynamic.

"The reason Instructor Zenoda addressed you with the title 'Your Highness' in such a polite tone back near the house... is because Instructor's family places a very high value on etiquette and respectful conduct," Annesia whispered. "Even though the Instructor acts however he likes and is completely unbothered by social rules out in the world, he is very obedient and deeply respectful of his mother. He doesn't want to appear rude or improper in front of his own home."

"Ohhhh..." Elara nodded in understanding. No wonder Zenoda's behavior had done a complete one-eighty just like that.

"Even so," Annesia continued in a whisper, "Instructor's mother isn't the type who is strict, demanding, or prone to scolding the way adventurer mothers sometimes are. If anything, Auntie Mirida is a very gentle, warm, and constantly smiling woman. You'd definitely adore her if you got to know her better!"

Hearing the description of her potential future mother-in-law — in the wilder parts of Elara's imagination — the Princess's cheeks colored slightly. "I see..."

Zenoda, whose hearing was far too sharp for their own good, turned toward the two girls whispering and giggling behind his back.

"What exactly are the two of you whispering about back there, hmm?" Zenoda asked with a suspicious tone.

Elara and Annesia immediately pressed their lips shut. "Nothing at all!" they answered in unison, fighting to suppress their laughter.

The atmosphere normalized by the time they arrived at the adventurers' training camp.

The training ground — a large expanse of hard, sandy earth — was ringed by dense trees and tall wooden fencing. In the center of the field, Zenoda saw a fairly lively scene.

Elara (who immediately ran to join), Cedric, Valerius, and Agru were gathered and practicing focusing their spell mana under the direct guidance of Sister Niyana. On the other side of the field, Garrick Anderstone — the Legendary Adventurer — was loudly instructing and coaching a group of local beginner adventurers on sword stance.

Seeing the separation of training focus, Zenoda walked toward Garrick.

"Uncle Garrick," Zenoda called casually. "Could you help Sister Niyana train those four over there? Technically, they're noble students from the capital — they need real combat experience against a physical veteran."

Garrick wiped the sweat from his brow and grinned. "Oh, you're here already, Zeno. Alright, that sounds like a great idea! I've been wanting to test just how far the mental toughness of those palace kids goes. But in return, I'd appreciate it if you took over training these beginners here — don't let their posture collapse on me, would you?"

"Leave it to me," Zenoda agreed, walking toward the beginner group, who immediately swallowed nervously at the sight of Kaigan's "Monster" taking over their class.

On the other side, Garrick walked with a steady stride toward the group of Elara, Cedric, Valerius, and Agru. The four young nobles stopped their spell practice as Garrick's large shadow fell over them.

"Hmm..." Garrick stroked his rough jaw, his eagle-sharp eyes evaluating them one by one. "I hear that the students from Koreson Academy are deeply feared as elemental magic geniuses. You rely on distance and elemental explosions, yes?"

Valerius puffed his chest very slightly with pride. "That is correct, Master Anderstone."

"Alright then," Garrick grinned with a challenging expression. "Today I won't be teaching you how to cast spells faster. I'll be showing you how a true physical combat specialist handles mages like you in a real battlefield encounter!"

Garrick then turned toward Sister Niyana standing nearby. "Niyana, if you would."

Niyana smiled gently and nodded. "Of course."

The holy woman raised her silver staff and chanted a high-tier Spatial Teleportation spell. A silver-glowing magic circle appeared on the sandy ground beside Garrick.

BOOM.

In an instant, a colossal sword fell from within the magic circle and drove itself deep into the earth.

The sword was shaped like a Buster Sword — its steel blade as thick as a grown man's forearm and as long as a human is tall. It was a deep, somber black, covered in battle scars that told a long and bloody history.

At the sight of that enormous weapon, the young nobles' eyes went wide.

"A sword that large..." Cedric murmured, swallowing.

"That sword must have extraordinary weight and structural durability," Valerius analyzed, trying to imagine how much heat would be needed to melt steel that thick.

Agru — a close-combat specialist of the earth element — crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. "Given its completely unreasonable size... it would surely require tremendous physical strength and both hands just to lift it from the ground."

Elara agreed with Agru's analysis. "Which means he'd need both hands occupied at all times, making his movements slow and predictable. If that's the case, I think we should be able to evade this fairly easily with our magic."

At hearing this premature analysis from the capital's elite youth, Garrick burst out laughing.

Without further words, the powerfully built middle-aged man stepped forward. He gripped the handle of the enormous sword embedded in the earth using only his right hand.

"Hng!"

With a single exertion that made the veins of his arm stand out visibly, Garrick wrenched the sword free from the earth with devastating ease. The sound of metal grinding against stone rang out sharply. He then swung the massive blade — weighing several hundred kilograms — upward, and rested its flat side on his right shoulder with complete nonchalance, as though he were shouldering a dry tree branch.

The eyes of Elara, Cedric, Valerius, and Agru nearly departed their sockets at the sight of that completely irrational physical strength.

"Alright, children," Garrick said with a predatory smile, his left hand still swinging freely at his side. "Are you ready?"

Watching the human-shaped monster before her, Elara's courage shrank a degree. Her theory about slowness shattered instantly. "I-I think this is going to be difficult... Agru, Cedric, Valerius! Full formation — now!"

All three young men understood precisely what she meant. Facing a Legendary Adventurer couldn't be done with simple thrown spells. They needed to show their full hands from the very first second.

"SUMMON!" Elara, Agru, Cedric, and Valerius cried simultaneously.

At once, four magic circles of different elements exploded around them. Their contracted Familiars emerged and took positions surrounding them, forming an absolute defensive and offensive formation.

Watching this phenomenon, Garrick's eyes lit with genuine admiration.

"Oh... Summoning Contract magic, is it? Very impressive," Garrick praised them, evaluating his opponents. "And the creatures they've contracted are all quite strong for young people their age. The Flame Griffon of the Hinno heir. The solid earth Spirit Golem from the square-jawed one. The Lightning Wolf — ah, that Fenrir seems to have grown considerably more obedient, hasn't he? And the one that surprises me most..."

Garrick's eyes settled on the translucent Ice Queen Spirit with eagle wings hovering gracefully at Elara's side. "...An Ice Spirit of pure elemental origin? Hahaha! I believe this is going to be a very enjoyable warm-up fight!"

Having said that, a dense killing aura rose from Garrick's body. The man lowered his knees slightly and took a sprinting stance.

WHOOOOSH.

Without any spell or incantation, the ground beneath Garrick's feet exploded. He launched at the speed of a bullet toward the four-noble formation.

"He's so fast!" Elara gasped, stepping back.

Recognizing the speed of the frontal charge, Agru — acting as the formation's Tank — immediately gave the order. "Hold him!"

Swiftly, Agru's giant Spirit Golem stepped forward, spreading both of its stone arms wide, and successfully caught the arc of Garrick's massive sword swing in midair. Sparks sprayed as steel met stone.

Seeing an opening in the opponent's guard while his sword was caught, Agru himself launched forward from the side. He layered his fist with dense earth, attempting to strike Garrick's ribs with the intention of knocking the man away and forcing him to release his weapon.

But decades of combat experience could not be fooled. Even with his right sword arm caught, Garrick didn't flinch at all.

"Oh... brave tactic!" Garrick commended.

As Agru's stone-covered fist nearly reached his ribs, Garrick calmly raised his free left hand and caught the powerful punch in his open palm.

BAM.

The earth-element strike stopped cold, absorbed completely by the iron grip of the Legend's hand.

"Your physical striking power and courage are impressive for someone your age — even for an academy magic student. But..."

Garrick pivoted his hips with lightning speed.

Thud.

One hard kick — no magic, only perfectly trained muscle — connected with Agru's stomach.

"Ugh!" Agru doubled over, his body thrown considerably backward until he hit the sandy ground.

Watching their defensive wall collapse in three seconds, Cedric panicked. "AGRU! Damn it! Fenrir, Thunder Ball!"

Cedric's Lightning Wolf howled into the air. From the wolf's mouth, a ball of blinding blue lightning energy fired at high velocity directly toward Garrick's face.

But rather than evading, Garrick grinned broadly. With his monstrous strength, he tightened his grip on the sword handle. He didn't just pull the sword free — he lifted the colossal blade along with the full weight of Agru's Spirit Golem still gripping the blade.

Garrick swung the sword upward, launching the stone Spirit Golem body — weighing several hundred kilograms — high into the air.

As the throw released the Golem's stone hands from the blade, Garrick spun his body and used the flat side of his enormous sword like a batting club, driving it into the descending Golem with tremendous force.

BOOM!

The stone Spirit Golem was launched forward like a cannonball — directly into the Thunder Ball that Cedric had just fired.

CRASH!

A massive explosion erupted in the air, the combined detonation of stone and lightning. Dense smoke covered all vision.

From within the smoke, the Spirit Golem's body — now cracked severely from the lightning blast — came flying back toward where Cedric, Valerius, and Elara were standing.

Cedric, recognizing the danger of the incoming projectile, swiftly swung his magic staff. "Lightning Shield!"

A protective net of pure electricity formed in front of them. The Golem's body struck the shield and finally stopped, crashing to the ground.

But the acrobatic throw had only been a distraction. Wasting no time while his opponents' view was blocked by smoke, Garrick launched himself directly through the cloud and charged straight at the three remaining mages.

Valerius — with the sharpest reflexes of the group — saw the flanking movement. "Don't give him space! Griffon, fire!"

Valerius's Flame Griffon spread its wings and immediately launched an Inferno Blaze — a highly concentrated stream of fire.

The Inferno Blaze forced Garrick's charge to a brief halt. The middle-aged man was compelled to spin his enormous sword at high speed in front of his body, using the broad blade face like a propeller blade to intercept and break apart the fire stream before it could burn him.

Without wasting the opportunity while Garrick was occupied by the flames, Elara and Cedric launched a combination attack simultaneously.

"Take this!" Cedric shouted. He fired an extremely powerful lightning laser from the tip of his magic staff, while simultaneously ordering Fenrir to fire a lightning strike from the opposite direction to cut off any escape route.

At the same moment, Elara pointed her crystal staff skyward. "Ice Rain!"

Thousands of ice lances fell from above like a meteor shower of frozen spears. And thanks to the copying ability of her Ice Queen Spirit Familiar, the total number of ice lances doubled — making the barrage twice as lethal.

Feeling himself now genuinely cornered in a blind spot between fire, double lightning from opposite sides, and an ice storm from above, Garrick's survival instincts as a war veteran ignited.

"Haaaaaa!"

Garrick drove his enormous sword deep into the sandy ground in front of him, making it an absolute shield — an Iron Pillar — against the frontal fire and lightning assault. He crouched briefly behind the blade, then with an explosive burst of force from his legs, he sprinted sideways from behind the sword, threading through a gap in the ice rain and circling at terrifying speed directly toward the positions of the three mages.

Valerius, watching the flanking movement, felt his eyes go wide. "Damn it! He's clear! Redirect the atta—"

But it was already too late. The recasting time for spellcasters simply couldn't match the speed of a top-tier physical specialist closing the distance.

Garrick was already in front of them. The large man had left his weapon behind. He was using only bare fists and feet.

THUD. CRACK.

Without a trace of magic, Garrick struck nerve-pressure points on Valerius and Cedric with precision — brutal but calculated blows that paralyzed their muscles and disrupted their mana flow without causing permanent internal damage. Both Cedric and Valerius dropped to the sandy ground, clutching their stomachs and wincing in pain.

Now only Elara remained standing.

Garrick turned to face the Princess. The distance between them was less than an arm's length. The killing aura and raw heat of the Legendary Adventurer radiated intensely.

Elara raised her staff with trembling hands, bracing to fire an ice bullet at point-blank range.

But before Elara could complete even the first syllable of her incantation, Garrick's enormous fist shot through the air and stopped — dramatically — exactly one millimeter in front of Elara's nose.

The wind from the near-punch's momentum swept Elara's white hair backward and made her catch her breath sharply. Her eyes went wide with horror at the calloused knuckles hovering in front of her face.

The result of the asymmetric sparring match was unmistakably clear. In under five minutes, with Garrick as the absolute victor. Their Familiars gradually faded back to the spirit realm as their masters ran out of magical energy from the physical defeat.

Garrick withdrew his fist and exhaled slowly. He lowered his stance and looked at the four young nobles who were scattered across the ground around him, shocked and winded.

"Hmm..." Garrick nodded slowly, his voice returning to that of a wise mentor. "Your magical power, elemental combination, and Familiar response speed are reasonably good for Academy students. That double-direction attack almost pushed me to a tough spot."

Garrick pointed toward Valerius and Cedric, who were being helped up by Agru.

"However... your movement variety, your understanding of the terrain, and your close-combat instincts are genuinely at a beginner level. You're all too locked into the pattern of: see, incant, throw. The moment I changed positions to your blind spots, you immediately panicked because you have no framework for fighting physically without magic," Garrick criticized firmly.

He then smiled with understanding. "But that's entirely natural for pure palace mages. You're all very young, and the lack of experience in dirty street fighting is expected. A fight to the death cannot always be resolved by standing in place and throwing spells. Sometimes you need to be ready to take a hit. I sincerely hope you take this lesson from being thrown in the mud today."

Hearing the valuable guidance from the man who had just demolished their pride, Elara, Cedric, Valerius, and Agru bowed their heads with deep respect. "We understand, Master Garrick!"

The sparring session concluded, but the tension that had been building in the training camp hadn't entirely dissipated.

From the direction of the camp's entrance — a wooden gate — came the sound of footsteps. Very quiet and deliberate footsteps. Someone had just arrived.

"Zeno."

The soft voice of a woman called that name.

Zenoda — who had been training basic sword-swing technique with beginner adventurers in the far corner — stopped what he was doing. He turned toward the voice, and found it was his mother, Mirida.

But something was very wrong with his mother's appearance this morning.

Zenoda narrowed his eyes, studying her from top to bottom. In terms of face and hair, his mother still looked completely ordinary — a middle-aged village woman with her hair neatly tied back. The linen shirt she was wearing was plain.

But... both of her hands were now wrapped in a pair of old protective leather gloves covered in slash marks and wear from long use. And most concerning of all: hanging at her left hip were two short twin swords in weathered wooden sheaths. Their design and aura were extraordinarily old, and they clearly carried a very long and weighty story.

Watching those lethal weapons attached to the body of the woman who usually only ever held kitchen knives and cooking pots, Zenoda's killer instincts rang out immediately. He suspected something very wrong and very unusual was happening. Something from his mother's past was about to be revealed.

But for a moment, Zenoda made himself stay calm. He set aside his guard instincts — because whoever was standing before him right now, whatever was about to happen, this was still his mother. The person who had raised him with full love. He stepped toward Mirida, preparing himself to face the mysterious "test" she had promised the night before.

(Thanks for reading! If you want to support the story and read up to 10 chapters ahead, check out the https://www.patreon.com/c/nightpen90. Otherwise, see you on Friday!)