The Next Day - Spawnhall City

  The result of the duel spread through the city like wildfire. Most areas around the Guild already know the facts. The news even reached the southern district where the Flamerose Inn lies.

  "Morning, ma'am."

  "Oh, Yuki! I thought you wouldn't visit us again."

  Rinne looks up from wiping down the counter, genuine surprise crossing her face.

  "I told you before, right? We'll still eat here for a while."

  "Haha, what a wasted farewell that was."

  "Told you, ma'am."

  "So, what's your order this morning, Mr. Winner? Hm~"

  Rinne's teasing grin spreads wide across her face.

  Before Yuki can answer, a booming voice cuts through the morning quiet.

  "Haha! Here's our pride!"

  "Yo, got an appetite this early?"

  Several adventurers—already nursing their morning ales—turn in their seats. An older man with a weathered face and perpetual stubble waves a mug in Yuki's direction.

  "Of course he does! He's diligent, not a lazy bum like us!"

  "Hahahaha!"

  The laughter ripples through the common room. Rinne shakes her head with a knowing smile.

  "See? Everyone already knows about your duel."

  Yuki sighs. "Yeah... I figured."

  The old man leans forward, eyes gleaming with the particular intensity of someone who's had three drinks before breakfast. "So what's your secret, youngster? How'd you do it?"

  "Buzz off, old man! Don't bother my son with your booze-smelly mouth!"

  Rinne's voice cracks like a whip.

  The entire common room goes quiet for a heartbeat.

  Then erupts.

  "Woah, look at that! Madam clearly said 'my son'! Haha!"

  "Dear me... She really said that?"

  "Is she going senile already?"

  "No, it can't be... don't tell me she's drunk this early?"

  "What's so bad about that?" Rinne's eyes narrow dangerously.

  "Gaah! Everyone get down! Madam's going berserk!"

  "SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"

  Silence crashes down like a hammer.

  Rinne plants both hands on her hips, glaring at each face in turn. "What's the problem with me saying that when I took responsibility to be his mother, huh?! After all, he's the son of my old acquaintance!"

  The adventurers shrink back slightly.

  "Uuh... you're right..."

  "And YOU, old man! Back off to your own table!"

  The grizzled adventurer raises his hands in surrender. "Yes, Madam. How stingy~"

  "WHAT?!"

  Rinne's killer glare could freeze fire.

  "Eeekkk!"

  The old man scrambles back to his seat like a scolded child.

  Yuki watches the exchange with faint amusement, then speaks up. "It's okay, ma'am. If it can help them, I don't mind sharing a bit."

  "Yuki..." Rinne's expression softens.

  "Wahaha, see? Your son is so wise!" The old man still tries to salvage his pride.

  "You—!"

  "S-so what is it, kid? What's your secret?"

  Yuki's answer comes without hesitation. "Like you said. Being diligent."

  A pause.

  "W-what?"

  "Huh?"

  "That's all?"

  The old man sputters. "H-hey, be more specific! If being diligent could make anyone stronger, we'd all be A-rankers already!"

  "Yeah! That's what we're talking about!"

  The other adventurers join in, their protest growing louder.

  Yuki tilts his head slightly, genuine confusion crossing his face. "But it's true. Being diligent should make you all stronger. That's why I'm confused by your question, old man."

  "Pffft... serves you right."

  "M-Madam!"

  "What? Something wrong with all of your brains?!"

  "N-no, forgive us..."

  Yuki continues, his tone completely matter-of-fact. "Here's the method. Every morning before breakfast—100 push-ups, 100 squats, 10-minute plank. After breakfast, clear some quests within two to three hours. Then 30 minutes of hunt training. Sprint back to the Guild as fast as possible. After lunch, train abilities in a quiet space. Before sleep, study knowledge or practice magic control."

  Dead silence.

  "..."

  "...My god..."

  "If that routine can be done for at least one month, anyone—even an old man like you—can surely become stronger."

  "Every... day?"

  "For a whole month?"

  "At least...?"

  Rinne hums happily, her smug face radiating satisfaction. "Of course, old man! Nothing is free in this world. You need at least that much effort to be strong."

  "Don't compare yourself with us, Madam!"

  "What? Now you whine knowing the path you chose is harder than you thought? How spineless."

  "It's true, we're spineless..." The old man's shoulders slump. "But how do we compete with talented people like you?"

  Yuki frowns. "What does it matter?"

  "What?"

  "Each of you knows how to use the stats plate, right?"

  "Of course! It's basic, boy. What about it?"

  "Then you can easily manage effective training."

  "What do you mean?"

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The old man leans forward, impatience creeping into his voice. He wants a satisfying answer—something that matches his expectations.

  But Yuki's statement confuses everyone in the dining hall. The stats plate is a common feature. No one has ever thought to use it the way Yuki describes.

  "Despite leveling up, it's easier to increase your main stats through intense training. You can clear quests for your lodging, but your main goal should be training, not hunting."

  The atmosphere in the hall grows heavy. Thoughtful.

  Other tenants start coming down from their rooms, drawn by voices.

  "Waah, I'm hungry~"

  "You're such a glutton for a lazy bum."

  "What do you—... um, what's this atmosphere?"

  Yuki finishes his water and stands. "So, does that answer satisfy you, old man?"

  Silence.

  "If anyone needs help with training, meet me at the Guild's sparring ground."

  He places coins on the counter. "Ma'am, here's payment. And as usual, for lunch and dinner as well."

  "Yes, yes. Have a good day, son."

  Yuki grins. "Yes, mom. Then I'm going."

  "Excuse me..." He moves past the newly arrived tenants.

  "Y-yes, sure."

  "S-so Madam actually has a son...?" one whispers.

  Yuki leaves the Inn in awkward silence.

  For a long moment, no one speaks.

  Then—

  "DAMMIT!"

  The old man's frustrated yell echoes through the common room.

  Today, the Guild is far more crowded than usual. There's no outbreak, no stampede, no war or emergency situation. Not even a festival.

  But there is one event happening today.

  The crowd fills the main hall, pressing close to get a better view. Adventurers of all ranks cluster together—some curious, some skeptical, some genuinely impressed.

  Guildmaster Herald stands on the raised platform, his voice carrying across the hall.

  "Today, I'll announce a promotion of someone we all know. In recent events, he surpassed any records in history. He showed us that impossibility can be changed. In a short time, he gained the respect of seniors famous for their stubbornness and strict attitudes. At last, he earned support from elites acknowledged by many people."

  Damn, such a cringy speech, Yuki thinks from where he stands below the platform.

  "Here he is—Yuzuki Yatoshu, or as we call him, Yuki!"

  Herald gestures grandly toward him.

  The young man climbs the steps with his usual calm expression.

  "Hehe, how was my speech?" Herald whispers.

  "Cringy."

  "Ugh, it's hard to suit your taste."

  "Just move on with the procedure. I'll stand still."

  Herald sighs. "Yeah, yeah. Emily, please proceed."

  "Yes, Guildmaster."

  Emily steps forward, holding an official document. Her voice rings clear and professional.

  "Now we will proceed with the promotion. Yuzuki Yatoshu—with Ability rank A, Experience rank B, and Credibility rank B—has cleared 113 quests individually and 40 quests with a partner. Total cleared: 153 quests. With achievements of this scale, then by the authority granted to our Guild, witnessed by current adventurers present here, we will bestow a promotion of A-rank upon Yuzuki Yatoshu."

  She pauses, letting the weight of the announcement settle.

  "Now, let us welcome our Guildmaster to grant directly the Unicorn badge to Yuzuki Yatoshu!"

  Herald steps forward, holding a gleaming silver badge shaped like a unicorn in mid-leap.

  "Hoho, I didn't expect you'd achieve this so soon."

  "So did I. Didn't expect you'd grant it to me yourself."

  "Guh, cocky brat. Let's just get this over with."

  "Sure."

  Herald's voice rises, formal and commanding. "Yuzuki Yatoshu, I now declare you an A-ranker as of this moment. And I award you the Unicorn badge for your achievement as the fastest newbie to reach A-rank."

  He pins the badge to Yuki's chest.

  Generally, all adventurers give applause—polite, respectful. But some of them, those who've fought alongside him or witnessed his capabilities firsthand, call out Yuki's name with genuine enthusiasm.

  "For my last statement," Herald continues, his tone shifting slightly. "Anyone who is discontent with this result—the Guild will welcome complaints through proper arrangement and judgment."

  The words hang in the air like a challenge.

  After the long ceremony and obligatory congratulations, Yuki finally spots an opening to escape and continue his daily schedule.

  "Yes, that's the way. Straighten your arm and focus your energy on the fist."

  Yuki observes Rhea's stance, making small corrections with his hand.

  "I see. I'll try again, Mas—"

  "Excuse me."

  A tall figure cuts into their session.

  Both Yuki and Rhea turn.

  The man standing at the edge of the sparring ground is broad-shouldered, wearing the distinctive armor of a city guard. His face is weathered but strong, with sharp eyes that carry years of experience.

  Briant. One of the southern gate guards.

  "What is it, Mr. Briant? Do you need to use this equipment too?"

  "No." His voice is firm, carrying an edge. "I came to ask you something."

  "Alright. I'm listening."

  "Please have a sparring match with me."

  Yuki doesn't hesitate. "I see. Shall we start now?"

  Briant blinks. "...H-huh? Wait, you just accept? Without any questions?"

  "That's your business."

  "Huh?"

  "Whatever your reasons, the Guild approves this kind of action." Yuki's tone remains level, unbothered. "After all, there must be some people who dislike my promotion."

  Something flickers across Briant's face—surprise, maybe respect. Then his expression hardens again into determination.

  He's been wrestling with this since he heard the announcement. Yuzuki Yatoshu. Adopted son of Huberg.

  Huberg—his old comrade. The man who saved his life twice. The man who taught him how to truly swing a blade.

  And now this kid appears out of nowhere, claiming that title. Getting promoted to A-rank faster than anyone in Guild history. Being acknowledged by Herald himself.

  It gnaws at Briant's pride. His sense of what's right.

  If this boy is really Huberg's son—adopted or not—then he should be able to prove it. Not with records or badges, but with skill.

  "I see. Then let's prepare." A smirk crosses Briant's face.

  The two of them move to opposite ends of the sparring ground, selecting practice weapons from the rack. Briant chooses a training sword with good weight. Yuki picks up a simple wooden blade.

  Meanwhile, passersby notice the gathering tension. Word spreads quickly in the Guild. Within minutes, a small crowd forms around the sparring ground's perimeter, securing spots to watch.

  "Heh, looks like we attracted a lot of unexpected watchers, don't we?"

  Yuki glances at the growing crowd with mild disinterest. "Really? I don't care at all. Or is this your original purpose?"

  "Hah! Of course not." Briant rolls his shoulders, loosening up. "You're right. We'd better focus on this match."

  The atmosphere shifts.

  What was casual conversation becomes something denser. Heavier. The air between them grows taut like a drawn bowstring.

  "So, am I allowed to start now?"

  "Sure. Please guide me, senior."

  "Heh, then—"

  WHAAM!

  Briant explodes forward. His opening strike is a curved pommel attack coming from the sideline, aimed precisely at Yuki's lower ribs—a disabling blow that would end most sparring matches immediately.

  Yuki counters with a side swing, deflecting the trajectory. The movement flows smoothly into a counter-strike aimed directly at Briant's center.

  "Hoo, what a capab—"

  WOONG!

  The sound cuts through the air like a blade through silk.

  Though it's just a training sword made of Rainwood—famous for its tender, forgiving properties—the slash Yuki unleashes carries an ominous weight. The air itself seems to resist the strike.

  Briant's instincts scream.

  He notices it in a heartbeat—that swing isn't filled with hesitation or the restrained caution of a sparring match. It carries killing intent. The kind found on real battlefields, where a moment's distraction means death.

  If he'd detected it even one second later, he'd have sustained serious damage.

  What a crazy bastard! Briant's mind races. How does he swing a blade like that?!

  "Kehh, look at that." Briant grits his teeth, adjusting his stance. "Your slash could dent a concrete wall. Keep your head cool—it's just sparring."

  Whoosh!

  In the blink of an eye, Yuki is already pressing his sword against Briant's guard. If he hadn't deliberately slowed the swing, Briant would've been taken down by that single hit.

  "Stay focused, senior."

  "Gaah! Thank you for your concern, my junior..."

  CLANG!

  Briant realizes with absolute clarity—Yuki is holding back. Significantly.

  The kid isn't even trying.

  Something ignites in Briant's chest. Pride. Anger. Determination.

  "But! No need for your petty words!"

  He channels power into his legs, his core, his arms. The technique he's about to unleash isn't at full strength—doing that in a sparring match would be reckless—but he's concentrated enough force to punch a three-person-sized hole through a city wall.

  His blade glows faintly with gathered energy.

  BWOOSH!

  The strike descends like a falling meteor.

  In response, Yuki turns his body with precise control, using his weight and acceleration from his lower stance. At the end of the rotation, he coats the wooden sword with his unique magic—void energy wrapping around the blade like dark flames.

  Then he strikes upward, meeting Briant's attack head-on.

  KAANG!

  The collision rings out like a bell.

  "W-what?! That's—!"

  Briant's technique—his current ace, the move he's refined over years—is deflected. Not blocked. Not absorbed.

  Deflected.

  BWOOSH!

  The energy launches skyward, spiraling up and up. Briant watches, stunned, as his attack climbs higher—100 meters, 200 meters, 300 meters—until it's nearly 500 meters above the Guild.

  Then it loses balance.

  BOOM!

  The explosion echoes across the western district.

  People outside the sparring ground stop what they're doing, staring at the sky.

  "W-what the hell was that?!"

  "That technique is seriously dangerous!"

  "We're doomed! That guard actually has that kind of power?!"

  "Uugh... so we've been lucky all this time? Or was he just playing with us?"

  "What are you talking about?! The one you should worry about is that newbie! He parried that attack with a wooden sword and tossed it that high!"

  "Uuh... t-that's right..."

  "How monstrous are newbies these days...?"

  A heavy silence settles over the watchers.

  Briant stands in the center of the sparring ground, chest heaving. Sweat drips down his temple. His arms tremble slightly from the exertion.

  Across from him, Yuki stands perfectly still. His breathing hasn't even changed.

  Finally, Yuki breaks the silence with a simple question.

  "So, are we done yet?"

  Briant lets out a long breath. Then laughs—short and sharp. "Kehh! Indeed. That last one was my current ace, and it tires me quite a bit. I still need to patrol, you know."

  He straightens, meeting Yuki's eyes.

  "So I admit defeat. You win, Yuki."

  There's no bitterness in his voice. Just acknowledgment.

  "If you've had enough, then."

  Yuki lowers his wooden sword.

  Briant sheathes his practice blade and walks toward the exit. As he passes Yuki, he pauses.

  "You're worthy of that name," he says quietly. Just loud enough for Yuki to hear. "Huberg would've been proud."

  Then he leaves.

  The watchers only whisper to each other, still processing what they witnessed. Some doubt their eyes. Others are simply curious about Yuki's training methods now.

  Yuki returns to where Rhea stands, waiting patiently.

  "Shall we continue?"

  "Yes, Master."

  They resume training as if nothing happened. The onlookers gradually disperse, though a few linger—watching, learning, wondering.

  At the usual time, Yuki and Rhea leave the sparring ground and head home. A handful of observers follow at a distance, still trying to make sense of what they saw.

  Whatever their reasons, it's not an issue for Yuki's routine.

  He simply needs to live his own schedule. His own lifestyle.

  - Struggle to Awake: CLEARED! -