Chapter 23: Proof of Strength

We were guided to the training grounds in the back of the guild.

The burly man who had called out to me earlier—apparently a senior member of the guild—laughed heartily and clapped me on the shoulder.

“I’m Vargas. I also serve as an instructor for new recruits here. You’ve got some guts, kid. I like that.”

Vargas picked up an especially large wooden greatsword from the rack of training weapons as if it weighed nothing.

“Go on. Pick whatever you like.”

I selected a broadsword-shaped wooden blade that felt most natural in my hand.

Its solid weight felt strangely familiar.

We faced each other in the center of the wide training hall.

Around us, adventurers who had heard about the mock battle gathered like spectators.

“Hey, let’s bet! How many seconds will that guy last?”

“Seconds? He’ll be done instantly! That’s Instructor Vargas!”

“Trying for a promotion test with a kid in tow? That’s reckless.”

“Well, this should be entertaining.”

Voices like that echoed around us.

Naturally, I was seen as the underdog.

Rowena stood at the edge of the hall with the receptionist, watching anxiously.

I could see her small hands clenched tightly.

Instructor Vargas rested the greatsword on his shoulder and grinned.

“Five minutes. Show me what you’ve got in that time. It’s a test, so you’ll have to make the first move.”

That was the signal.

The trial began.

I inhaled deeply and tightened my grip on the wooden sword.

Then I kicked off the ground and closed the distance in an instant.

My first strike was a probing blow.

Clack!

Despite its weight, Vargas handled the wooden greatsword like a twig and blocked it effortlessly.

Without pause, I shifted angles and rhythm, launching a rapid series of strikes.

The sharp crack of wood against wood echoed crisply through the hall.

He blocked each attack while occasionally sending back sharp counterstrikes.

The whoosh of his blade cutting the air was deadly.

An average adventurer wouldn’t even react in time.

But I evaded with minimal movement, deflected with precision, and kept pressing forward.

(As expected of an instructor… This won’t be easy.)

I could hear the murmurs among the onlookers begin to change.

“Wait… no way…”

“He’s parrying all of Vargas’s attacks!”

“More than that—he’s pushing him back!”

After three minutes of relentless assault, Vargas’s guard faltered—just slightly.

A fleeting opening.

I seized it without hesitation and drove a heavy, sharp strike into his side.

Thud!

A dull impact rang out.

True to his skill, he didn’t lose his footing.

But his movement slowed for a split second.

(Got you.)

I launched a follow-up barrage.

As if anticipating it, Vargas recovered and swept his blade upward from below.

But I had anticipated that too.

Matching his motion, I swung upward with force, catching his greatsword at the perfect angle.

Crash!

The impact resounded as his weapon was knocked wide.

His torso was exposed.

The tip of my wooden blade stopped inches from his throat.

Silence fell over the training hall.

Vargas looked at the blade pointed at him and burst into laughter.

“…I yield! My loss!”

He raised both hands.

“You’re incredible! Pure sword skill alone—you’d pass as A-rank! But since you just registered… fine. You’re promoted to B-rank!”

B-rank.

At those words, I released the tension I’d been holding and exhaled deeply.

(…Good.)

With this, I could take better-paying jobs.

And fewer fools would pick fights.

Our travels would be more stable.

At the edge of the hall, Rowena was listening as the receptionist explained what had happened.

When she understood, her face lit up, and she began hopping excitedly.

I shook Vargas’s hand firmly.

The adventurers who had mocked me earlier now clapped me on the back and shouted, “You’re amazing!” and “Congrats!”

Pushing through the crowd, I returned to Rowena.

“E… Eo!”

She praised me in her clumsy voice.

I gently patted her head and took her small hand.