The Power of Ending Wasn't All There Was

"Leo Piloga, Your Grace."

The Guard warrior who stepped out of formation looked to be in his forties. A ring of beard around his chin made him look rather comical. He respectfully saluted Tales.

"I'm merely a humble, ordinary Logistics Officer in your Guard."

"It's my honor to serve you as a sparring partner."

Tales did not answer at once.

He continued to stare suspiciously at Marius by the edge of the field.

Piloga did not mind. He seriously selected a moderately weighted practice sword from the rack, tested it against his glove, then poked the sand to confirm that it was a blunt sword with no edge.

"As expected of the Prince. To get to the bottom of the Ending Power, he can make quite a grand display..."

Doyle looked at his Guard colleagues standing all around them, some puzzled and others grim, then gave the dazed Prince in the arena a look of envy and jealousy.

"When I awakened my Ending Power, the Old Knight I served knew nothing about it. That day, he worked me to exhaustion as usual, until I was sprawled on the ground, groaning..."

"It wasn't until a year later that he realized his squire's skills had improved so much that I could fight him to a standstill..."

Gollor remained silent as usual beside him, simply keeping his attention on the field.

Doyle was used to the other man's coldness and merely sighed under his breath.

"But fortunately, at least Marius knows the Prince is still inexperienced. He only picked people from the Logistics Wing to take the field—and Piloga's nothing special."

Gollor watched Piloga finish his simple warm-up and slightly furrowed his brow.

Tales took a deep breath. As he turned toward the relaxed Marius, he tried his best to ignore the gazes