Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

“Ah, damn this cup. It’s really of no help at all.”

Christian grumbled, uttering harsh words.

“If only it would come out swiftly when summoned and offer some healing, we could save on potion costs, and it would be beneficial for my health. It’d be good for you and me, right?!”

He pounded his chest in frustration, but all it did was hurt. The Arsenal remained unresponsive.

“If only Aunt were here…”

Rachel, the saintess of the Latima Order, could reinvigorate even the dying for about 30 minutes with her exceptional holy energy. Of course, they’d die again after those 30 minutes, but still.

“Yes, at this time, she’s probably with the Latima Order, right?”

In reality, even if he wanted to seek help, Christian had no connection to the Latima Order or the saintess at this point in time.

Realizing his predicament, Christian let out a deep sigh.

“How should I return the Latima’s Chalice?”

With the Arsenal completely ignoring its master, retrieving the holy relic of the Latima Order stored within it was out of the question. Christian couldn’t even tap into the mana he had accumulated.

“Damn it. I need to get in shape quickly.”

All he could do was lament and grumble.

“It’d really be great to have some alcohol at a time like this.”

The more he thought about it, the more regrets piled up, so he decided not to dwell on it. And nothing could soothe such a feeling of disappointment like alcohol.

Among the three things Christian felt he had learned well from his master, one was indeed alcohol.

‘Those were truly remarkable times.’

He vividly remembered the drinking sessions with his master and Saintess Rachel.

‘When you filled the Latima’s Chalice, it turned into a fragrant fruit wine.’

Rachel used to call it a miracle of the goddess Latima, drinking with them until she could barely stand. Yet, the next day she’d be fresh, offering prayers alongside the master.

A warm smile spread across Christian’s face as he reminisced.

“It’d be nice for the three of us to share a drink again.”

Since there were two Cups of Latima, they wouldn’t have to take turns like last time…

Wait?

“There are two Cups of Latima?”

Hold on. How does this work?

Having two was definitely advantageous, but is this okay?

“This needs to be verified.”

If this hypothesis were correct, even the Ether Weapons, which he had once owned, might exist somewhere in their original forms at this time. Unlike the Latima’s Chalice, the materials for them were so evident that they had to exist.

Though the nine Ether Weapons he once possessed had all vanished recently…

Ether Weapons were the essence of the user’s soul. If the same materials were gathered again—

“It means they can be recreated.”

The Ether Weapons he received from his comrades were used to save his life, leaving none behind.

But if he secured the materials used to make them—and with his involvement—there was a high chance they could be restored.

And…

“They could even be newly created.”

The spiritual stones used in the production of Christian’s original Ether Weapon, the Arsenal, still existed in the present era.

Moreover, he had already once created Ether Weapons using it, and the Arsenal remained.

Thus, if he regained the stones, he could have two original Ether Weapons or enhance the Arsenal.

“Sigh. No, that’s just greed.”

Like the moniker of Ether Weapon Master, he could restore and claim as original the Ether Weapons of other comrades.

But those had owners, rightful ones. Christian had borrowed his comrades’ souls temporarily for a common goal, and though he could be an owner, he couldn’t be their master.

“Being strong alone won’t solve anything.”

**New Elements and Characters:**
– 크리스티안 = Christian(he)
– 레이첼 = Rachel(she)
– 라티마 교단 = Latima Order(it)
– 라티마의 잔 = Latima’s Chalice(it)
– 에테르 웨폰 = Ether Weapon(varies)
– 무기고 = Arsenal(it)
Christian let out a small laugh and lay down.

He found the soft pillow and bed quite pleasant. As his mind cleared up, the tangled thoughts in his head seemed to settle calmly.

“Is everyone living well?”

They were comrades who had crossed the line of life and death with him, sometimes acting as uncles, aunts, brothers, or sisters.

Christian began to recall their faces one by one in his mind.

“This time, everyone will survive.”

If people, or rather those with power, had realized just a bit earlier… would history have turned out differently?

It wouldn’t have collapsed so futilely.

They surely didn’t expect the mana they had cultivated over a lifetime to be ripped apart so easily.

That is why it’s crucial to desperately strengthen oneself while there is still time.

Not just for me, but this time, for my master and everyone around me.

“Though it’s still weak….”

A white, translucent mana flickered at his fingertips like a mirage.

It was so pure and refined that not even a hint of energy could be sensed from it.

The mana, absorbing the Ether Weapon and then expelling it within him, was as calm and serene as a quiet sea.

Yet, beneath that surface, numerous powers were swirling in turmoil.

The mana of the spiritual stones harbored by mystical creatures, monstrous beasts, and magical beings for a long time.

And the mana used to create Ether Weapons, along with the mana of their wielders, all remained mingled together. Fortunately, there were no longer any impurities endangering Christian’s body. The various natures of mana were merely clumped together, failing to unite into one.

‘My stomach feels uneasy.’

It was as if suffering from indigestion.

But, it was not entirely unpleasant.

“If only I could wholly make this my own mana….”

He had experienced mana distortion in his previous life as well.

It had taken a staggering three years to digest the mana of his master and friend that he had accepted back then.

What isn’t digested isn’t truly his.

To become flesh and blood, he must diligently digest this mana.

In order to do that….

“Physical training! The body! I have to build my body! There is no time to be lying around lost in thought!”

Christian jumped up from his seat and got off the bed.

Time was of the essence.

This was not merely a saying among merchants.

Lying still and doing nothing felt like torture, so he quickly walked to the door and flung it open.

“Alright, it’s time for training, train—”

“Get back in bed and lie down.”

“…… Yes.”

The moment he met Aira’s eyes, who was guarding the door, he didn’t even think about closing the door again and turned back towards the bed.

As Christian lay back in bed with a slight grumble, he asked.

“Why are you guarding?”

“I’m not exactly guarding. It’s just your thoughts are obvious. If the wounds get worse or you collapse again, it’ll trouble Aunt….”

Aira prolonged her sentence, deliberately avoiding looking at Christian.

She cautiously closed the door, and, as if she had never looked clumsy, sent him a stern look that seemed to say, ‘If you come out again, I’ll personally break your legs.’

‘Well, this isn’t too bad either.’

Having someone who cared for him.

It was something his master had always done for him, and knowing she still did brought a smile to his face.

Christian laid in bed, forced to engage in mental training. Even the next day, he was unable to undertake any significant training activities.

Despite his insistence on being completely fine, the mistrust of two individuals prevented him from even stepping outside his bedroom, let alone going to the training grounds.

However, today neither of them could stop Christian.

“Are you really okay? How about postponing it until later?”

Neria held Christian’s wrist, her eyes filled with concern as she spoke.

She pulled out a handkerchief to gently clean the sleep from Christian’s eyes as he let out a long yawn.

‘If it were Master, she would’ve said I’ve gone soft and would have made me roll on the floor for three days from today.’

Christian responded with an awkward smile at Neria’s unexpectedly devoted behavior.

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about, right? The priest checked over my body.”

“Yes, but…”

The priest had been on standby since Christian woke up, and it had cost a pretty penny to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances, though Neria didn’t mind the expense at all.

“And today, this son of yours will show some filial piety, so look forward to it.”

“Showing filial piety is all well and good…”

Their only son and the duel against the renowned Garcia House member, Sir Garcia, left Neria clinging to Christian’s collar, evidently not fond of the impending duel.

However, Christian couldn’t give up.

He didn’t want to push aside this golden opportunity to openly gain a hefty sum from, no, to obtain one from Liana with dignity.

Although Neria wasn’t fully convinced, she felt torn between hoping her son would get back at Liana on her behalf and worrying that he might get hurt.

“Nevertheless, be careful. Don’t overdo it.”

But it seemed her desire to see him put Liana Worden in her place prevailed a bit more.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll press Sir Garcia’s nose flat and come back.”

Encouraged by Christian’s confidence, Neria tried to shake off her worries, smiling broadly and patting his head.

And then there was another person. Observing quietly from earlier, Aira’s gaze turned peculiar, prompting Christian to look at her with a questioning glance.

“Huh? What is it?”

“Nothing. You’re just so full of yourself.”

“It’s not anything difficult.”

When Christian shrugged, Aira sighed.

“Why are you here instead of over there?”

Christian pointed to Garcia’s waiting area across from them. Her mother, Liana Worden, was sitting with her close aides.

Although it was a natural question, Aira didn’t seem to appreciate Christian’s insensitivity, as shown by her immediate sullen expression.

“I’ll go. I just came to check on you briefly.”

“Still, you should at least offer a few words of encouragement to your dear brother before you go.”

“Dear brother, my eye! I’m leaving now!”

At the mention of her dear brother, Aira genuinely appeared horrified, her complexion changing entirely.

‘I can’t even joke around…’

Muttering under her breath, Aira walked toward the opposing side, then halted midway and glanced back at Christian.

“Don’t get hurt.”

“Thanks. But I think that’s something you should say to Sir Garcia, don’t you think?”

“Ha, as if!”

Irritated by Christian’s nonchalant demeanor, Aira snorted and then proceeded towards the opposite side without hesitation.

Seeing Aira like that, Christian didn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Well, I guess I should head out, too.”

There was no trace of nervousness. Fear was even further absent. Instead, he felt a slight twinge of anticipation.

‘I wonder what the knights of this era are like.’

It wasn’t an enemy to be cut down, but a duel to gauge each other’s skills. The opportunity to mix swords with an opponent based on pure combativeness brought a small joy to Christian, who had weathered countless battlefields.