CHAPTER 121: TRANING WITH AN ORC

As soon as class ended, I headed straight for the physical training room.

Normally, I wouldn’t have even looked in this direction.

But right now?

My whole body felt like a heated furnace—restless, charged, overflowing with a strange excitement I couldn’t suppress.

Becoming a sword user... it had completely changed something inside me.

The moment I pushed open the training room door—

"What brings you here, Louis?"

A booming voice greeted me.

Professor Dominic stood in the middle of the room, casually lifting a dumbbell so massive it looked like it belonged in a giant’s armory.

Yet he raised it one-handed, with perfect posture, like it weighed nothing more than a pair of chopsticks.

...Is he even human?

Even from where I stood, the weight plates were enormous.

The floor beneath his feet was slightly dented.

He wasn’t just strong—he was monstrous.

I couldn’t stop myself from clicking my tongue softly.

Yeah.

He was powerful.

Unbelievably so.

"I came to train, sir!" I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the adrenaline buzzing through me.

The one who reacted to my sudden declaration wasn’t Dominic.

It was the man standing beside him.

A towering figure—easily two meters tall—with thick, green skin and muscles carved like stone.

An orc.

He tilted his head, then grinned widely at me, exposing sharp, intimidating teeth.

Even standing still, he radiated a pressure that made the air feel heavier.

"What’s got into you so suddenly, boy?" he asked, voice rumbling like distant thunder.

"I just... felt like working hard today," I answered.

He raised a brow. "What kind of nonsense is that?"

No, seriously!

I did come here to train.

I wasn’t slacking or running away this time.

I had changed—at least a little.

The new, disciplined Louis.

The hardworking Louis.

Or as close as I could manage.

"I mean it," I insisted. "I’m here to train properly."

The orc stared at me for a moment, then slowly nodded as if he finally understood something.

"I see..."

His eyes narrowed. "Dominic. I sense aura from this student."

Dominic turned sharply toward me.

"What? Louis, you weren’t a sword user before. What’s this about aura?"

"I awakened today, sir," I said.

"...You awakened today?" Dominic repeated, eyes wide.

The orc crossed his arms, studying me with interest—like he was examining a newly discovered weapon.

Of course he noticed immediately.

Aura had a distinct presence.

Even faint, it was like a warm pressure swirling through my body—one that other swordsmen could feel.

Louis Vonte, once called a genius swordsman.

A talent wasted, buried under laziness and excuses.

But a genius nonetheless.

And now that my dantian had broken through...

Every time I swung my sword, the aura circulating inside me would grow sharper, denser—purer.

The orc gave a satisfied nod.

"Hmph. Not bad," he rumbled. "Your aura is still unstable, but it’s real. And awakening it on the same day you decided to train... seems like you’ve had a change of heart."

"Something like that," I replied quietly.

As the concentration of aura in my body continued to rise, I could feel a faint pressure building in my core.

Sooner or later, I would experience the next stage—

the expansion of my dantian.

Once that happened, I would begin stepping beyond ordinary human limits.

Louis Vermore, a guy who had talent in swordsmanship but no magical potential...

Now finally able to wield aura?

It meant something simple.

Something undeniable.

The talent I had buried all this time, the potential that had been rotting away inside me, was finally beginning to surface.

It was... exhilarating.

I was still lost in that realization when a deep, rumbling voice suddenly broke through my thoughts.

"Let me ask you something."

I snapped my attention back to the Orc instructor—broad shoulders, tusks slightly chipped, eyes sharper than most humans I’d met.

"Which do you think is stronger?" he asked abruptly. "Magic? Or the sword?"

My mind paused.

A strange question, for sure.

Magic was powerful—devastating, even.

But if we were talking about potential...

About reaching the absolute peak...

Then there was only one answer.

The sword.

Because the moment someone became a Sword Master—

that incomprehensible existence who could split mountains and distort space—

even Grand Archmages were hopelessly outmatched.

I didn’t hesitate.

"The sword, of course, sir."

For a moment, the Orc stared at me.

Then—

"HAHAHAHA!"

With a booming laugh, he slammed his massive hand against my back hard enough to jolt the air out of my lungs.

"I like you!" he roared. "What’s your name?"

"Louis Vermore, sir."

"Well, Louis—" He thumped his chest proudly. "—I’m Lycan."

Lycan.

The Orc warrior known for surviving ten frontlines by brute strength alone.

A monster rumored to have fought even dragons as an equal.

And he was smiling at me like he’d just found a new favorite toy.

"Tell me," Lycan said, leaning forward slightly. "Do you want to become stronger?"

The question hit something deep inside me.

Did I want to become strong?

Not just average.

Not just "better."

But truly, undeniably strong?

The answer rose up before I could stop it.

"Yes! I want to become stronger!"

Lycan’s grin widened—dangerous and wild.

"Good!" he bellowed. "Then follow me!"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Before I could even blink, Lycan turned around and stomped off with the confidence of someone who expected me to keep up—or get crushed underfoot.

A chill of anticipation ran down my spine.

Following him now...

meant stepping onto a new path entirely.

A path that would either break me—

Or forge me into something far stronger.

"...What are you two doing?"

Dominic’s bewildered voice echoed behind us, but Lycan didn’t even look back.

Like a newly enlisted recruit being dragged by his superior, I just followed him into the training room located beside the physical training grounds.

Dominic eventually trailed after us, still wearing that what did I just witness expression.

"I’ll observe you. Swing your sword once."

"Yes, sir."

I took my position and swung my sword the same way I always did.

"Hm... no, no. At times like this, raise this arm more."

Lycan immediately stepped closer, adjusting my stance with precise, practiced movements.

Instant feedback—clean, direct, easy to apply.

Ah.

This feels... good.

It was strange.

Receiving Lycan’s personal corrections, feeling my movements becoming smoother and sharper in real time—it sent a small thrill through me.

Almost addictive.

To think I used to hate training.