Chapter 54: The First Demonstration
"Simon—get your spear and armor."
"Yes, Commander."
Simon turned his head toward one of his comrades at the edge of the ring. The man nodded without a word and hurried off, boots pounding against the dirt.
Moments later, the soldier returned, shoving through the thick press of bodies with spear and armor in hand. The crowd parted just enough to let him through before closing again in a wall of steel and voices.
Simon took the gear swiftly, strapping on the armor piece by piece with practiced ease, then gripping the spear tight in his hands. The weight settled over him, his posture straightening as he prepared to step into the circle fully armed.
Meanwhile, behind Eren—still clutching one of his hands—Mira spoke, her voice low beneath the rising noise of the gathered soldiers.
"Will you be alright?"
There was hesitation in her tone. She remembered what Velira had told her—how Eren was said to be more powerful than the Battalion Commander himself.
But despite that... worry lingered.
Her gaze fixed on him, searching for assurance.
Eren turned his head, offering a casual smile. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her head, fingers brushing through her hair.
"It’ll be alright."
His tone was light, steady. Certain.
Mira stepped back slowly, her fingers slipping from his as she offered a hesitant smile of her own.
"...I hope so."
Mira slipped back into the crowd, her hands still pressed nervously together, while the circle of soldiers tightened around the open space.
Bavrik turned to Eren. "You need a sword?"
Eren paused.
Eren looked at him. He hesitated—briefly unsure whether he should say it—but he gathered the words anyway, "A fallen branch... would do better."
The crowd quieted. Soldiers nearby turned their heads, stunned by what they’d just heard. The noise that had buzzed moments ago faded into a heavy silence.
The words dropped like a stone in water.
Bavrik’s brow furrowed, his expression unreadable for a moment. A branch? His thoughts stumbled over the response. He couldn’t understand—arrogance? Mockery? Or ignorance?
Does he not know how to maintain the dignity of a soldier? Even if Eren was powerful... this was too brazen.
Bavrik remained silent, unsure what message Eren was trying to send.
Meanwhile, across the sparring circle, Simon’s previously respectful demeanor shifted. Just moments ago, he’d looked at Eren with awe—the man brought here personally by the battalion commander. But now his eyes darkened.
"Is he trying to slander me?" Simon muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching.
The unease spread quickly among the onlookers. Whispers rippled outward. A few scoffed. Others glared.
The air grew tense.
And then—Bavrik’s voice cut through it.
"Eren," he called out, voice stern. "Even if you think you’re stronger than the others, you shouldn’t belittle them like that."
The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
The soldiers—who just moments ago had held Eren in high regard, whispers of respect and curiosity in their eyes—now fell silent. Their expressions turned cold, disapproving.
Murmurs passed between them.
A few narrowed their eyes.
Others scoffed under their breath.
The look in their eyes wasn’t curiosity anymore—it was disappointment. Resentment.
The kind reserved for someone who’d just stepped too far over the unspoken line of pride and dignity every soldier held dear.
Eren opened his mouth—his voice trying to catch up with the crumbling situation. "No, I..."
But before he could finish, Bavrik exhaled deeply.
He didn’t look at Eren at first. Instead, his gaze dropped sideways as if weighing something heavier than just this moment.
"Though... it’s your choice how you carry yourself," Bavrik finally said, his tone measured. "Still, there are lines. Even the powerful shouldn’t step on so carelessly."
He didn’t wait for a reply.
Instead, he turned slightly, eyes locking on one of the soldiers near the edge of the crowd.
"You," he called.
The man stiffened.
"Bring me a branch," Bavrik commanded.
The soldier blinked—visibly confused for a heartbeat. But then he straightened and replied quickly, "Yes, Commander."
The soldier darted off, came back with a low-hanging branch, and presented it to Bavrik, who passed it straight to Eren.
"I don’t know how you expect to beat an armored man with only a stick—especially if you won’t use any body technique," Bavrik said, voice flat. "But it’s your choice."
A ripple of cold disdain ran through the crowd. Men who’d been inclined to respect Eren now watched with narrowed eyes; the circle shifted, creating a little hollow of cold distance around Mira as others subtly pulled back.
Eren took the branch, feeling the weight of every staring eye. He exhaled slowly.
If I don’t even use a branch, he’d be torn in half, he thought sighing. But then again—how am I even gon’ explain that to them?
Bavrik stepped back, his voice cutting through the hush. "Ready?"
Simon’s face was stone—solemn, controlled. He planted his feet, spear tipped toward the sky, armor clinking with the motion. "Yes, Commander."
Bavrik’s gaze slid to Eren. "You?"
Eren let his shoulders drop into a casual stance at the edge. "I am."
"Begin."
Bavrik’s voice reverberated through the clearing, as the soldiers’ voices dimmed down to not even a murmur—every one of them anticipating the newcomer’s prowess.
Eren just smirked.
Before Simon could even move—before his legs could take a step, his mouth could open fully to bark an insult—Eren’s gaze flicked to the screen.
[ System Interface ]
Skill: Lesser Wyvern Sword Arts (Activated)
Weapon: Branch equipped
Mm, Eren thought. Not the whole body—that’d leave him dead. Just the tip... the toe should be enough.
He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t control the full power of the technique. So, even before Simon could shift forward, Eren had already decided.
Just the toe.
Eren leaped with one jolt—from the tip of his toe.
The ground trembled slightly beneath his foot, and in an instant, he was gone—launched like lightning across the field.
Simon’s eyes failed to keep track.
Even Bavrik—whom they all regarded as the strongest in the camp—could barely follow the blur. He narrowed his gaze, but even then... all he saw was a flicker. A passing shadow.
By the time anyone could begin to register it—Eren was already there.
On Simon’s far side.
And before Simon could even react—
Wham!
The branch came crashing down.And before it could even carry the full force of the technique—it burst into the air—splintering into cinders, blown apart by the sheer pressure.
Ash drifted like snow.
Eren just stood there. A quiet smile on his face.That was enough.That was exactly what he was aiming for.
The ground split open—cracks spidering out nearly twenty meters. Shallow, but enough to leave a flicker of a crater gouged into the sparring field.
Before Simon could even process it—he collapsed.
The pressure he’d been building on his toe—just about to push forward—met nothing.
The toe was gone.Blown off.
Bits of it flew through the air—flesh, bone, fragments of boot—as his metallic helm split at the front, the top half scattering across the air—mangled pieces.
Wham!
Simon hit the dirt—face-first—his spear clattering beside him, hands twitching.
Before his mind could even make sense of what had happened—his entire world had already tilted.