Finally, I Got Transmigrated Into Another World!

***

Lucien, Rowen and Brady turned their attention back to Tristan, curious to see how he would handle the situation.

Tristan replied coldly to the burly knight, "I'm warning you one last time, sir. Mind your own business and stop bothering me." His sharp, unwavering gaze made the knight's blood boil.

"How dare you!" the knight growled, his pride stinging.

Without hesitation, the knight clenched his fist and swung a punch at Tristan, only for the latter to sidestep the attack effortlessly. The miss threw the knight off balance, his stance faltering. Tristan capitalized on the moment, sweeping his leg in a precise motion that struck the knight's forward leg, causing him to tumble to the ground.

"What's the matter, old man? Did you lose your walking stick?" Tristan quipped, his voice dripping with mockery.

The knight's face flushed with humiliation as he realized all his subordinates were watching the scene. Driven by the weight of their stares, he rose to his feet, his mana surging. His muscles swelled, and his skin took on a faint red hue as he growled in fury.

"Aaargh!"

Tristan raised an eyebrow, feigning amazement. "Wow, are you an orc, old man? I didn't realize knights can do that too."

The knight roared in anger, charging at Tristan with reckless abandon. The first swing was wild, just like the initial attack, and Tristan dodged it with ease, countering with a solid punch to the knight's gut. The blow knocked the air out of the man, but he pressed on, delivering a series of strikes. Each time Tristan dodged the knight attack, Tristan landing a hard blow to the knight stomach.

By the time the knight coughed up bile, hunched over in pain, Tristan stood unscathed.

"All you can do is dodge, you little rat!" the knight barked, his frustration bubbling over.

Tristan's lips curled into a smirk. "If that's what you think, let's test your strength then."

Dropping into a battle-ready stance, Tristan let his mana flow to his body, enhancing his body. His aura sharpened as he beckoned, "Come on, old man. Show me what you've got."

With a roar, the knight charged again, throwing a full-powered punch. Tristan raised one hand to meet the blow, halting it in mid-air. Though he slid back slightly, his footing remained firm, and the punch left him unfazed.

"Satisfied now, old man?" Tristan asked, his tone cool and condescending. "Get back to your training, and next time, remember to stay out of others' business."

Without waiting for a response, Tristan clenched his fist and delivered an uppercut to the knight's chin. The impact sent the knight soaring into the air before crashing back down onto the ground, unconscious.

The training field fell silent, every knight frozen in shock. Tristan exhaled calmly, brushing imaginary dust off his hands as he turned back to his own training.

***

A few moments after Tristan effortlessly blocked the knight's full-force punch, Rowen stood in stunned silence. His mouth hung open as he pointed at Tristan and turned to his brother, Brady. "What on earth is that kid, Brady? You didn't tell me he was this strong."

Brady smirked, clearly enjoying his older brother's astonishment. "I didn't say he was this strong because he is stronger than this."

Rowen's disbelief deepened as Brady added, "Oh, and that's not even his best. If he uses a sword, I'd wager he could single-handedly wipe out our entire unit."

Rowen said nothing, struggling to process both the scene before him and his brother's words. Just then, the burly knight collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Before anyone could react further, the sound of clapping echoed through the training grounds.

"Clap, clap."

"Impressive, Tristan." Lucien approached, his eyes sparkling with pride. The moment he entered, every knight in the vicinity snapped to attention, standing rigidly straight.

"Good morning, My Lord!" they greeted in unison.

Tristan, unfazed, turned to Lucien and offered a polite bow. "Good morning, Lord Lucien."

Lucien smiled warmly. "Good morning, Tristan. You've been quite busy this morning, haven't you?"

Tristan tilted his head slightly. "Why did you come here, sir?"

Lucien gestured toward Rowen, who still looked slightly dazed. "Actually, I brought someone here to test your strength. But it seems he's been left speechless by what he just witnessed."

Following Lucien's gesture, the knights turned their heads toward Rowen and immediately straightened again. "Good morning, General!" they shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the grounds.

Rowen, startled by the sudden attention, coughed awkwardly into his fist to mask his lingering surprise. "U-uh... Good morning, everyone," he replied, trying to regain his composure as he approached Tristan.

Lucien chuckled lightly before turning to Rowen. "So, Rowen, are you still willing to go through with it?"

Rowen hesitated for a moment, stealing another glance at Tristan. "To be honest, there's no need for a test after what I just saw. But if it's your order, sir, I'll proceed."

Lucien's laughter boomed across the field. "Haha, no need to worry about that, Rowen. I'll test him myself."

The knights murmured quietly among themselves, excited at the prospect of watching their master spar with this mysterious young warrior.

"What do you think, Tristan? Are you willing?" Lucien asked with a smile.

"Of course, sir. It would be an honor," Tristan replied confidently.

Lucien nodded and turned to Rowen. "Alright, everyone, give us some space!" Rowen barked, ordering the knights to clear the area.

Word of the sparring match spread like wildfire through the Roussanne estate. Soon, everyone was abuzz with curiosity and speculation. Even Gracia, Gideon, and Sheyla arrived to witness the event firsthand.

"Who's that boy?" one onlooker whispered.

"Isn't this going to be an easy match for Sir Lucien? He's practically bullying the poor kid," another muttered.

"Maybe the boy made some sort of mistake, and this is his punishment," someone suggested.

As more people gathered, so did the rumors, each more exaggerated than the last.

Lucien glanced at the growing crowd, chuckling. "It seems the audience keeps growing, Tristan."

Tristan smiled faintly. "Naturally, uncle. Everyone wants to see you in action."

Lucien grinned. "Alright then, are you ready, Tristan?"

"Ready, uncle," Tristan replied, his tone steady.

Lucien turned to Rowen. "Rowen, the sword."

Rowen swiftly handed over a sword with practiced efficiency. "Here's your sword, my lord," he said.

Lucien took the blade, testing its weight with a few swings. "Thank you." Turning back to Tristan, he asked, "You don't mind if we use real swords, do you?"

Tristan's eyes lit up with determination. "Not at all, uncle. That's exactly what I was hoping for."

With that, Tristan raised his hand and summoned his sword from his storage room. The weapon materialized out of thin air, causing a wave of astonishment to ripple through the crowd.

"Ho, you can use spatial magic too?" Lucien remarked, clearly impressed.

"It's an artifact my father gave me, sir," Tristan explained humbly.

Lucien nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. Well then, shall we begin, Tristan?" he said, lowering himself into his battle stance.

"Whenever you're ready, uncle," Tristan replied, mirroring the stance with his own sword.

The crowd hushed, anticipation thick in the air as the two combatants prepared to clash. The sparring match between the young prodigy and the master swordsman was about to begin.

Everyone on the training ground fell into a stunned silence, eyes fixed on the sparring match that was about to unfold.

"Here I come, Tristan," Lucien declared, his voice steady yet commanding.

Tristan merely nodded, his focus razor-sharp.

Lucien dashed forward with blinding speed, his blade aimed directly at Tristan's neck. Tristan deflected the attack with practiced precision and countered with his own strike toward Lucien's throat. Lucien narrowly evaded the blow, leaning back just enough to avoid the blade, and used the momentum of his dodge to launch a powerful overhead strike.

Tristan stepped aside, deflecting the downward slash in the nick of time, and retaliated with a swift counterattack. Their swords clashed, ringing out like a bell, the force reverberating across the training ground. Both combatants leaped back in unison, landing gracefully a few steps apart.

"You're extraordinary, Tristan," Lucien said, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

"You're remarkable as well, sir. You're the first opponent to push me this hard," Tristan replied, his breath steady but his smile betraying a hint of nervousness.

Lucien's eyes gleamed with excitement. "How about we turn up the intensity?"

Tristan nodded, a mix of eagerness and unease in his expression. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

The crowd erupted into murmurs, their disbelief palpable. "Is this really happening? Our lord, the grandmaster swordsman, is evenly matched with a mere child?" one knight whispered.

"No, it's not possible. He must be holding back…right?" another speculated.

But as they watched the seamless exchanges of blows, the undeniable truth began to settle: this was no ordinary child.

Lucien began channeling mana into his body, his aura growing visibly stronger. Seeing this, Tristan followed suit, his own mana flaring to life and enveloping him in a faint glow.

"Here I come," Lucien announced, his voice steady but filled with determination.

In an instant, Lucien's speed surged to an entirely new level, surpassing his earlier attack. His sword streaked toward Tristan's left arm with such swiftness that it was nearly invisible to the ordinary eye.

But Tristan matched his pace, deflecting Lucien's strike with a calculated parry that diverted the sword just slightly off its mark. Using the opening created by his defense, Tristan countered with a strike aimed precisely at Lucien's left arm.

"This boy...he's mirroring my movements," Lucien thought, a flash of surprise crossing his face.

Lucien evaded by twisting his body to the right, using the momentum of Tristan's parry to guide his sword away. As he spun, Lucien lashed out with a knee strike aimed at Tristan's midsection.

Tristan reacted instantly, pivoting to his right in tandem with the swing of his sword. His movements flowed like water, and as he turned, he delivered a sharp counterkick to Lucien's thigh.

The strike landed cleanly, and for a fleeting moment, Lucien's balance faltered. He dropped to one knee but immediately rose to his feet, his composure unshaken.

The onlookers were stunned into silence, their eyes wide with disbelief. Their master, the esteemed grandmaster swordsman, had been struck by a child.

Rowen's jaw tightened as he turned to Brady, his voice low and strained. "Did you catch Tristan's movements?"

Brady nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, I did. It's been a long time since I've seen swordsmanship like that."

Rowen narrowed his eyes. "That style...it's unmistakable. It's the Sword King's technique—Gran Ciyane's legendary style. Is he—"

Before Rowen could finish, Brady cut him off. "Shh! Keep your voice down. No one can know about this."

Rowen exhaled sharply, nodding. "Fine. But you'll explain everything later."

"Understood," Brady replied, his eyes never leaving the fight.

After regaining his footing, Lucien immediately leapt toward Tristan once more. This time, his speed surged even higher as he dashed behind Tristan, aiming a swift slash at the back of his neck.

Tristan, however, tracked Lucien's movement with sharp precision, reacting in an instant. He spun to his right mid-air, his sword clashing fiercely against Lucien's. The resounding metallic clang echoed through the training grounds.

But Lucien wasn't finished. The moment he regained his footing, he launched another attack at Tristan, giving him no time to stabilize himself.

Tristan, thinking quickly, condensed mana into his legs, creating a fiery burst of propulsion that hurled him backward and out of Lucien's reach. The explosive maneuver astonished the onlookers, who gasped at the spectacle.

As Tristan landed, he immediately poured more mana into his legs. Mimicking Lucien's earlier tactic, he darted behind his opponent at a blinding speed, aiming a decisive slash at Lucien's neck.

But Lucien anticipated this. With practiced ease, he caught Tristan's sword arm with his right hand, halting the attack. Then, in a display of remarkable skill, he tossed his sword into the air, caught it with his left hand, and pointed the blade directly at Tristan's face.

Tristan's eyes widened in shock, and he exhaled in resignation. "I yield, sir," he admitted, lowering his weapon.

"Haha! That was an exhilarating duel, Tristan," Lucien replied with a hearty laugh.

The audience erupted in cheers and applause. "Woooaaahhh!" they roared. Conversations buzzed through the crowd: "How is that boy so strong?" "He landed attacks on our lord!" "What an incredible duel!"

Lucien glanced at Tristan and grinned. "It seems they enjoyed the show."

Tristan nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "You're right, sir. Thank you for the duel. I learned so much from you today." He bowed respectfully.

"Haha, and I learned much from you too, Tristan. Come, let's head back inside, clean up, and have some breakfast," Lucien said, patting Tristan on the shoulder.

"Yes, my lord," Tristan replied warmly.

As they walked together, the entire household, knights, servants, gardeners, and even the kitchen staff, showered Tristan with praise. Blushing at the attention, Tristan could only chuckle awkwardly and nod in thanks.

Meanwhile, inside the Roussanne residence, Gideon watched the duel between his father and Tristan, his face dark and then said, "Tristan is... amazing!" His face lit up with admiration and then continued, "He's so cool. If only I had a brother like him, I'd be so proud."

Grinning with determination, he clenched his fists. "I'll ask Tristan to train me. I want to be as strong as him someday!"