---

After finishing his morning training, Lee Han carefully washed his body.

He didn’t want to hear people comment about the smell of sweat around him.

Afterward, he ate again.

Just as important as exercise was the proper intake of nutrients.

Stew.

It was a hearty stew packed with meat, vegetables, and tomato sauce, simmered overnight.

Surprisingly, stew was one of the best dishes for absorbing the nutrients from the ingredients.

Although he used inexpensive ingredients, cooking them for a long time softened the ingredients, making them easy to digest. The tomato sauce and common herbs like basil enhanced the flavor, making it rich and satisfying.

“Phew, that was good.”

After eating, it was time to rest.

Lee Han made sure to take a careful rest as much as he paid attention to his meals.

A short, 30-minute power nap.

It didn’t have the same restorative power as deep sleep, but the benefits of this light sleep were plentiful.

Short but intense, it helped restore both physical stamina and mental fatigue.

After taking his nap, Lee Han rose and began stretching.

After waking from deep sleep, stretching, then intense exercise, followed by nutrient intake.

Sword training, followed by a wash and then more nutrient intake.

Light sleep followed by stretching.

This was the routine that started Lee Han’s day.

It had been his routine for about three years, and there wasn’t a single day he missed it.

Even the day after being pummeled by the knight commander, his sworn enemy, he followed the same routine.

Rather, after being beaten up and recovering the next day, he could feel his body getting better, so it actually felt pretty damn good.

If you asked him why he continued with such crazy training, Lee Han would say it was because it worked.

Training until your body felt like it might break, then healing it with the regenerative power of a troll made his body stronger.

Though it was just a tiny, snail-paced improvement, the fact that there was “progress” was what mattered.

Even if it was just a 0.01 increase in strength or stamina, over a hundred days, it added up to a full 1 in strength and stamina.

If you trained for a thousand days, you’d increase by 10.

Having experienced this firsthand, Lee Han continued training diligently.

For some, a 0.01 improvement might feel like despair, but for someone who wasn’t a noble, didn’t have a proper teacher, and only had a healthy body to rely on, even such modest growth was like a beacon of hope.

Sometimes the progress would be as much as 0.05, or even 0.1.

The thrill of progress was incomparable to anything else, and Lee Han felt he was steadily moving toward self-realization.

“…Ugh, but seriously, when will I ever win?”

But he was human, not a machine, and sometimes, inexplicably, a feeling of depression would creep up on him.

And today happened to be one of those days.

It was a rather bad day.

---

As Lee Han walked away from the area on the outskirts of the city, known to be inhabited by peasants and commoners, the bustling city began to unfold in front of him.

The grand sight of the capital of the Pendragon Kingdom.

As he got closer to the royal palace, the streets grew busier, and impressive buildings and artistic sculptures appeared, resembling something from a modern city.

The capital had not always been this large. After the kingdom transformed post-war, the capital had been developed to reflect the grandeur of the kingdom’s name.

For someone who remembered the old scenery, seeing the present-day landscape would likely be incomprehensible, causing brief confusion.

As Lee Han entered the part of the city where the noble families lived, the imposing royal castle came into view.

It was a castle that would surely inspire admiration in some.

Though Lee Han agreed that it was magnificent…

“…I really don’t want to go there.”

---

Lee Han’s expression was nothing short of utterly crumpled, radiating his unwillingness to go.

For a few minutes, he stood there, as though locked in a subtle battle of nerves with himself.

Eventually, with a resigned sigh, he trudged toward the castle gates.

Then—

“Chung! Greetings, Sir Lee Han!”

“Good morning, Sir Lee Han.”

“Yes, good work, everyone. …But for the last time, my name is Lee Han, not Lihan.”

“…Isn’t that close enough?”

“…….”

Ah, grandfather.

The proud Deoksu Lee clan is being disrespected in this medieval world.

Should I beat these people up?

[Stop babbling and just get to work, kid.]

‘…Yes, sir.’

Feeling as though his (former-life) grandfather would have said something like that, Lee Han nodded and held out his token.

A necklace resembling a dog tag.

When the soldier scanned it with a magical artifact, the token glowed blue, reminiscent of fingerprint or iris recognition technology.

Magic truly was a fascinating thing.

“No issues. Have a good day, Sir Lee Han.”

“…I don’t want to have a good day.”

“Haha, you’ve got a great sense of humor, sir.”

“…….”

What on earth is this guy laughing about?

Feeling as if everyone but him was enjoying themselves, Lee Han entered the castle with a sense of irritation.

While he couldn’t speak for others, he was under considerable stress. At this moment, poking him might just lead to an explosion.

Just one fool. Let one fool mess with me.

With that expectation, Lee Han swiftly headed toward the outskirts where the knights were stationed.

“It’s Lihan.”

“He’s here.”

“What’s today going to bring?”

“Is the Captain in?”

A group clad in the same armor as Lee Han—a white-and-silver uniform adorned with the emblem of a white lion—greeted(?) him.

Of course, they all avoided his gaze.

‘Cowards, the lot of them.’

If a commoner had walked in, they’d glare, hurl insults, and pick fights.

They’d even scheme to trap him, sending assassins after him, ready to risk their lives to take him down.

Why do none of these people have even that much spine?

‘The old ones at least had guts.’

Nobles-turned-knights who once tried to stab him, send assassins, and kill him outright.

He had quite a bit of fun with them.

Whenever his stress piled up, they gave him legitimate excuses to beat someone senseless.

But things were different now.

Perhaps he’d beaten too many of their kind, because, at some point, no one dared to pick a fight with him anymore.

Looking back, it truly felt like times had changed.

Time passes, and I feel its weight.

‘Maybe I should’ve left a few.’

He regretted not sparing a few Chihuahua-like pests, the kind who yapped incessantly, so he could deal with them later when they crossed the line.

Just as a slight frown began to crease his forehead—

“Lee Han, who are you plotting to kill with that face today?”

“…Why don’t you pick a fight with me for once?”

“No thanks. Who in their right mind would pick a fight with a monster like you?”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“…It’s not an exaggeration, man.”

Jake—a noble by birth but one of the rare few who didn’t look down on Lee Han for being a commoner—was also one of his scarce friends in the knights’ order.

He even called Lee Han by his proper name, unlike others, and his skill ranked among the top in the order. As a sparring partner—or a stress outlet—he’d be a solid choice, but—

“Don’t look at me like that. Sparring with you makes my bones ache.”

Jake, as if sensing danger in advance, blocked any opportunity for escalation before it began.

The man was sharp, as always.

“A noble should have enough spirit to get mad when a commoner acts out of line. Shouldn’t you be flying off the handle, threatening to kill me, or something? Tsk, tsk!”

“…I’ll just say this: your view of nobles is astonishingly narrow.”

Jake had joined the order at the same time as Lee Han.

He also knew how many clashes Lee Han had with noble-born knights during their early days.

…And he certainly remembered the state those nobles ended up in after crossing paths with Lee Han.

‘Ugh, it still gives me chills.’

The memory of that day left an indelible impression on Jake.

The nobles had gone too far, pestering Lee Han relentlessly until they finally crossed a line. At that point, Lee Han had turned into something that could only be described as a beast, a demon, and beat them as though he truly intended to kill them.

Others rushed in to stop his rampage, only to be severely injured themselves, requiring weeks of recovery. Looking back, it would’ve been better if they’d simply stayed out of it.

If the Captain hadn’t stepped in that day, at least three of them would’ve been dead for sure.

Afterward, there were calls within the order to expel or punish Lee Han, but the Captain dismissed all of them.

While it seemed like the Captain was protecting Lee Han, those with sharp intuition—like Jake—knew the truth.

On the contrary, Lee Han wanted retaliation. He would have gladly welcomed being expelled.

If not for the Captain, Lee Han would have retired a hundred times over by now.

In a way, the Captain shielded Lee Han as a way to mess with him, turning himself into a barrier that prevented Lee Han from leaving. Jake thought it was a bit much, but he could understand the reasoning.

After all—

“He’s undeniably strong.”

Lee Han was simply too valuable to give up on.

Jake’s comment about not wanting to fight him wasn’t an exaggeration; it was the absolute truth, coming straight from the depths of his heart.

---

The knights’ training, to be honest, was nothing remarkable.

It wasn’t grueling, nor was it particularly taxing.

If anything, there was a noticeable degree of autonomy allowed.

‘Anyone watching might think this is Major League training.’

He remembered hearing about it in his previous life: Major League players were responsible for their own training.

They would spend their own money, break down their personal schedules to the minute, and rigorously hone their individual skills to survive in the cutthroat world of the Major Leagues and earn the right to call themselves Major Leaguers.

That was the life of a Major League player.

Similarly, most of those who held the title of knight were either disciples of renowned knights or nobles backed by their family’s wealth.

Because of this, they often trained individually to enhance their skills, carefully guarding their methods from others.

Their training techniques were as much a secret as they were an asset.

‘They’re all quite something, really.’

Like recipes passed down through generations, knights were like treasure-hoarding goblins.

Sometimes, when sparring with them, they’d display astonishing techniques in the most unexpected ways.

Like now.

Whoosh!

Clang!

Two knights, wielding blunt training swords, faced off in a duel.

Every clash of their blades sparked brilliant flashes of light, and the elegant display of high-level swordsmanship was more mesmerizing than any circus act.

Whip!

One knight’s sword bent like a whip, pressuring his opponent.

The surprising part was how the opponent countered without hesitation, swinging his blade in retaliation. In an instant, he struck three times in succession.

“Impressive. Really impressive.”

It was a dazzling display of swordsmanship that had no connection to Lee Han.

Watching it was a visual treat and a vicarious thrill—a rare and precious experience.

…Of course, just because he watched it didn’t mean he could replicate it.

‘In novels, reincarnated guys always have talent and are copy geniuses. Why not me?’

Once, I tried sparring with knights to steal their techniques, but instead of learning anything, I just ended up with more questions.

Why do they move like that? How do they generate such destructive force from those stances?

I’ve heard that families with long histories practice something called fighting techniques, and mastering it is said to grant the strength of ten ordinary men.

Some say it’s all about struggling to reach the state of aura, but whatever it is, it’s undeniably impressive.

It feels like watching the sword techniques of martial artists from the wuxia novels I used to read as a hobby in my past life.

…Honestly, I’m jealous.

“Everyone’s so talented.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Hm?”

“Ugh.”

What’s with him all of a sudden? Could this be his way of signaling that he wants to spar—

“Just so you know, I’m never sparring with you. Ever.”

“…Huh.”

Lee Han felt disappointed.

It wasn’t just Jake; everyone else avoided sparring with him too, leaving Lee Han with no outlet for his stress.

“These modern kids—”

“—Sir Lee Han!”

“…Hm?”

“I challenge you to a duel!”

“…Oh.”

Wait, really?

‘Looks like there’s still someone useful.’

Lee Han broke into a wide grin.