I Became the Youngest Disciple of the Martial God

Chapter 79

The smell of blood and the stench of the beasts intermingled.

This wolf bastard didn’t die even though its jaw was cut in half.

Rather, it glared at Hector and tried to tear into Hector’s skin with its teeth.

This is dangerous...

He didn’t have the energy to dodge.

“Hector!”

Bazil suddenly slammed into the wolf’s body with his own and pushed it away.

The wolf’s dangling head fell off from the force, and disgusting blood splashed on his face.

“Are you okay?”

Hector couldn’t even respond; he just nodded.

He swept back his hair, which had stiffened from the blood, and looked in front of him.

The number of wolves in the pack had decreased significantly.

There were only ten or so left, but they weren’t attacking, only observing him.

Have they noticed my condition?

Well... he looked pitiful enough that even a beast should be able to tell.

Hector couldn’t tell how many of these dirty dogs he had decapitated, but he was certain that he was approaching his limit.

This was something that couldn’t be overcome by grit and mentality alone: he was reaching the physical limit of his body.

“Hector Bednicker.”

He heard the voice again.

Hector couldn’t raise his head, but he knew to whom the voice belonged.

Charon Woodjack was still observing the situation from the trees.

“Will you accept my offer now?”

What did Charon mean by that?

The answer was “points.”

Charon had offered to help if Hector handed over all of his points.

Charon probably wasn’t lying... He was definitely capable of upholding his end of the deal.

As annoying as Charon was, Hector knew he was a genius.

Hector smirked.

He had run away from that word his entire life, yet that hateful word had continued to chase him.

“Genius”...

Hector Bednicker despised geniuses.

***

The first thing Hector had ever grabbed was a sturdy black wooden sword.

A toy sword, made from a light wood and short enough to be used by a child.

When he’d first grabbed that sword...

For some reason, Hector had felt like the sword was stuck to his hand.

Just grabbing the sword had made him feel great.

So he’d swung it.

As he’d recklessly swung the sword, his mother had been delighted.

“This child is a swordsmanship genius!”

He’d been called a genius when he hadn’t even known the meaning of the word. Still, he recognized that he was being praised, and he was elated to hear it.

Soon, the swordsmanship he’d begun for fun fulfilled his sense of self.

Hector became even more excited as he energetically and diligently swung his sword. Every time he did so, his mother clapped her hands.

However, this wasn’t a path that could be trod because of joy, and that was even more true in House Bednicker.

When Hector turned six, he began to receive swordsmanship instruction.

However, he had not one instructor but twelve.

“Honestly, we wanted to hire the Instructor of Swords and Blades, but that man isn’t motivated by money. Still, it’s fine; these people are all experts that other houses desperately wish to hire.”

Hector loved his mother.

Every time his mother spoke to him with those blue eyes, he accepted everything she said.

“I trust that you will do well, okay?”

The six-year-old Hector nodded.

“Yes.”

From that day on, Hector was unable to simply swing his sword against a scarecrow or even his peers.

“It’s still lacking! Here, swing a hundred times more!”

“How can a child of Bednicker be so weak?”

“Young master, your right shoulder is unguarded.”

The lessons were intense.

The young boy’s hands started to form calluses, and his entire body became covered with bruises.

“How is Hector?”

“...To be honest, his talent isn’t that outstanding, though he is very resilient...”

“That’s not enough. That child, Hector, needs to be a genius.”

“...Miss?”

“Help that child create a sword art.”

“What do you...”

“You’re only giving the child advice. The creator will be my son, Hector Bednicker. Do you understand?”

Hector Bednicker, the genius.

One of the three greatest children of House Bednicker.

None of it was true.

Hector just liked swinging his sword.

He just didn’t want to disappoint his mother.

He was just a little brighter than his peers.

He was just an ordinary kid.

***

The Lord of Blood and Iron, Dellark C. Bednicker.

Even though Hector had inherited his blood, he didn’t meet the man until he was 12 years old.

The Shadow Sword was said to have been created by Hector, but it had actually been created by the twelve swordsmanship instructors over many months.

That swordsmanship was displayed before the Lord of Blood and Iron.

“...”

After finishing his demonstration, Hector lowered his head.

Although there hadn’t been any mistakes in his swordsmanship, he still felt ashamed for some reason.

“Who created this swordsmanship technique?”

“Of course, Hector—”

“Stop. Wife, I wasn’t asking you.”

Hector realized that the Lord of Blood and Iron’s gaze was directed toward him.

However, oddly enough, he found it difficult to talk.

A smooth but oppressive hand covered his shoulder.

It was his mother.

“Hector? You need to answer. The family head is asking you a question.”

Hector gulped as he answered, “...I-I created it.”

It couldn’t be helped that his voice trembled.

His mother tried to cover up his awkward response.

“Hm. It seems he’s quite nervous in front of you.”

But even in that moment, Hector felt the gaze of the Lord of Blood and Iron on him.

“Was it truly you who created it?”

Ah.

At that moment, Hector realized the truth.

He already knows.

Although Hector had no evidence, he was certain.

His father already knew that he wasn’t the one who had created this technique, that he wasn’t a genius at all.

Hector felt his face burn up.

Embarrassment.

This was the first time Hector had ever felt embarrassed.

Simultaneously, his lips quivered.

He had heard countless times just how cold and scary the Lord of Blood and Iron was.

He wasn’t someone who would overlook a liar, even if it was his own son.

“If that’s the case, make it completely yours.”

“...!”

Hector’s head immediately shot up.

For the first time, he saw the Lord of Blood and Iron’s eyes.

Although they were the same color as his own, the Lord of Blood and Iron’s eyes were much colder.

He finally understood why the man was called “the Lord of Blood and Iron.”

However, he also noticed a faint sense of interest in those eyes.

“Hector...! Amazing, the family head has acknowledged you!”

“Incredible, young master.”

“Congratulations!”

“A genius! My son is a genius!”

After his father left, his mother and his swordsmanship instructors gathered around to say things to him, but he couldn’t remember them very well.

—Make it completely yours.

The Lord of Blood and Iron’s final words alone were engraved in his heart as they stirred up a storm within him.

* * * * *

* * * * *

After that day, Hector began training like his life depended on it.

He cut down on rest, meals, and sleep. He also decreased his interactions with his peers.

The time he saved was spent solely on becoming stronger, on developing his swordsmanship technique, on being acknowledged by his father once more.

With that, the attitude of the people around him began to change.

“Your swordsmanship becomes sharper with every passing day, young master.”

“As expected of the family head’s child.”

His swordsmanship instructors praised him, and the servants became much more polite.

His mother’s family treated him well too.

However, what Hector loved most was getting to see his father more frequently, even if it was still only two or three times a year.

One day, his father called him up to the fifth floor. Hector was so happy he could have cried.

Even among the family head’s children, only a select few were allowed there.

Father has acknowledged me...!

When he first stepped foot onto the fifth floor, the scenery instantly changed into a beach at sunset.

Hector saw his father standing on the orange beach.

“Hector.”

“Yes.”

“I will one day cut down the demon lords.”

Hector flinched with a shiver.

He understood the weight of the term “demon lords.”

“I know that it is impossible for me alone. Even our ancestor and great hero, Black Fairy Kuset, was unable to accomplish this feat.”

“...”

“But if I am not alone, if I have an ally who could be my strength, it is doable. That is why you were created.”

Confessing to a child that he was born out of necessity... that was something no father should ever do.

However, Hector wasn’t shocked.

Nor did he feel sad.

“I wish for you to fight by my side in the future.”

Instead, he felt an overwhelming sense of duty.

It didn’t matter what the reason was; he was glad that his father needed him.

The wish of the Lord of Blood and Iron became Hector’s desire.

It became his dream to go out onto the battlefield where his father needed him, to protect his father’s side.

I can do it.

“Genius”...

Hector began to consider himself a genius.

He felt his swordsmanship improve day by day, and he became confident that he was stronger than others his age.

The word he had considered a burden was now held up high with pride.

...The moment he had that thought, Hector witnessed a true genius.

“...I didn’t expect there to be this much of a difference.”

“It seems Hero will be the family head’s successor.”

“Shush...! Miss will hear you.”

Hero Bednicker... In a spar with the eldest son of the House, Hector lost within ten seconds.

However, Hero’s parting words were a much greater humiliation than the loss itself.

“...That’s funny. Why is father relying on an ordinary kid like you?”

“...”

The words that he’d finally forgotten and believed he’d never have to hear again had reappeared to pressure Hector.

“Ordinary” and “genius.”

Hector could feel it.

For the rest of his life, he would be chased by those two words.

***

Hector hated geniuses.

He hated those who looked down on and laughed at people who worked hard.

He also knew that this was born of a feeling of inferiority.

He knew that, but so what?

“...I refuse.”

If he didn’t follow his heart, he would stop being Hector Bednicker.

Charon tilted his head slightly.

“You’ll die at this rate.”

“I know.”

“And you’re still going to refuse? Is your pride more important than your life? I don’t understand.”

You wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t be able to see the pride of someone below you from your position of “arrogant genius.”

Also, Hector had no intention of dying here.

“Bazil.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’ll create a path, so use it to escape.”

Now that the number of wolves had decreased, it was possible. There was an opening in their encirclement.

Bazil’s face became pale.

“B-but what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you... is a guarantee I cannot make. But it’s more difficult to fight while trying to protect you.”

“I can pull my weight.”

“Don’t try to show off. You’re about to collapse.”

“But...”

“I’m pretty sure I said this at the beginning: during this test, the team captain’s word is law.”

“...”

Hector was thankful for Bazil.

Even in this moment of danger, Bazil had never once tried to convince Hector to hand over his points.

Hector didn’t know why that was. Maybe Bazil was as pure as he was weak.

Hector chose to view it as the dwarf respecting his useless pride.

And if that was the case, he would respect this young hero’s life.

“...Understood.”

At this moment, Hector forgot the situation and laughed.

So dwarves cry like that.

Hector looked at Bazil’s laughable face.

“Bazil, I don’t think being a hero suits you. If you survive, look for a different career.”

“To be honest, my dream job is to become a brewer.”

“Really? I’ve heard that dwarven stout is rather good.”

“Of course. I’ll treat you next time.”

After listening in on their conversation, Charon spoke once more.

“Hector Bednicker, are you really going to kill yourself and your teammate just for some points?”

“It’s not a problem of points. I am a Bednicker.”

“What about it?”

“Bednickers don’t negotiate with trash.”

...Those words had not come out of Hector’s mouth.

Crunch.

Something fell from the sky.

It was a bloody wolf that looked like it had been crushed by a boulder.

It was the work of a young boy.

“...”

Hector couldn’t help but smirk.

It was a face as annoying as Charon’s. However, he was more than glad to see that face here.

“...Right, Brother?”

Luan smiled as he looked at Hector.