Zelos slumped on his back on the bed, clutching his feathered helmet. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

In the end, he only ran to the bottom of the third, and there was nothing to be proud of. He tried to tell himself. But he surpassed Li Qing. Although the other party released water, Li Qing did use all his strength in the final sprint.

But if his father saw him like this, he wouldn't be happy, would he?

Zelos didn't know.

In his memory, his father did not blame him many times, but he stubbornly believed that he had disappointed his father again and again. The soldiers may not always be laughing at him, but when they see them chatting and laughing or talking during breaks, he always stubbornly believes that they must be laughing at his own shitty boss.

If there's one biggest loser in the world, it's that Zelos thinks it must be himself-

He had almost nothing, and no soldier liked him. Father is a legendary swordsmanship master Rito in his life, but he will only be a character with a few strokes in the future, and he has not inherited his father's swordsmanship, and he is a failure who has achieved nothing. Only the position of the city guard represents the recognition of him by the House of Elders. But who knows how much of this recognition is made up of his father, Master Rito?

Everything was taken away by the man named Li Qing.

And easily, he made almost no effort and became famous in the first battle, Karma entrusted him with great responsibility, and the soldiers worshipped him as a hero......

He easily got everything he wanted but couldn't get.

Memories are stripped away by the mind and stretched into pieces.

The emaciated boy was kicked to the ground, his ribs and lungs aching, and his thin body twisted on the hard, cold ground.

Several people around him made such a sneer.

"The son of the Flying Sword Saint Rito? How can it be so weak? The tall boy stood in front of him with his toes proud. It seems that the flying sword technique is about to be lost, right? ”

"You...... You are talking nonsense! His weak arms had just supported his body, and a leather military shoe stepped on his back, pressing his body back to the ground.

"Eat the dirt, waste! Isn't your father very powerful? Why don't you teach you swordsmanship? Well? At such an age, he should have been taught by his father a long time ago, practiced hard behind closed doors, and was ready to take over the position of master, right? How could you have come to this army for a comfortable errand? ”

"I ...... Because ......"

"Because ** is a waste!" His head was stomped on the ground, and his cheeks ached from the rubble on the ground.

Lying on the bed, Zelos took a few deep breaths and banished the images from his mind, when he had just entered the army.

This kind of bullying should have been taken for granted.

It's just that his father's generation is an excellent martial artist, and the flying swordsmanship has been passed down from generation to generation, but only in his generation......

His father, Master Rito, had a pair of children, he and his sister Irelia, in the Ionian culture, martial arts and spells were passed on to daughters, but Zeroth was frail and sickly since childhood, and at the age of ten, he could not even hold an ordinary standard iron sword, and was even inferior to her sister Irelia.

In this regard, the father has not said anything, and still only teaches their brothers and sisters the simplest swordsmanship and physical skills, which are decent, and there is no difference between what he taught the soldiers as the swordsmanship instructor of Ionia, and the swordsmanship that made the ancestors of Zelos famous all over the world has not been touched in the slightest.

At the age of fourteen, Zelos finally couldn't bear the pain anymore. He's fed up with this feeling, like a slow suffocation—

Is it because you know that he is stupid and talented, so you only want him to be the most ordinary person? So in this kind of gentle anesthesia, slowly wear off the edges and sharpness, and finally be willing to accept the status quo and be mediocre to death?

The so-called balance, inaction, and chance, all of this is bullshit!

"Why won't he pass it on to you?"

"Rubbish!"

Those vicious words fermented in the depths of his soul, and he resolutely carried the burden on his back and went into the military camp of Ionia to train himself.

Unfortunately, how can it be so easy to start from scratch? Those vicious words have always lingered in my ears, like a shadow.

He was bullied by his colleagues, left far behind in every training, and finally seemed to be transferred to a cavalry battalion with less physical training by virtue of his father's miraculous identity.

It's his father's identity again, the shadow that makes him hate.

The cavalry battalion did not have daily training for running, and he had the worst physical strength, and he was panting badly after running a lap and a half. He was afraid of ridicule, so he originally only picked up the time when there was no one, and secretly practiced in the training ground, but he still inevitably showed his timidity, and now he can finally avoid losing face.

Only the swordsmanship training gave him a little confidence.

So he threw everything into the practice of swordsmanship, so desperate that he could not tolerate any defeat at all, like a man in the water desperately trying to grasp a piece of driftwood.

The slightest mistake, he will feel that the faces of the onlookers are laughing at him, or counting him down in his heart.

"I didn't expect the son of the Flying Sword Saint Rito, but this is a little ability!"

"No wonder I can't even inherit my father's swordsmanship, it turns out that he is a soft-footed shrimp!"

He is the most competitive, but he is also a man who does not dare to do anything.

As the commander of the city guard, he did not change any of his rules, he was afraid of leading this strange army, he was afraid of being compared to his predecessor, and he was even more afraid of hearing people say that he could get his present rank only because of the shadow of his father Rito.

He had heard such rumors, and he had often wondered if what they were saying was true.

Li Qing's appearance made him believe in this even more, if it weren't for his father's legendary attainments, I'm afraid that he Zelos would be nothing for the rest of his life......

This man is a struggler who lives forever in the shadow of his father, desperately trying to shake the wheel of fate with his weak arms.

There was a knock on the door.

"Please come in." Zelos replied casually, clasping his hands behind his head, his gaze continuing to stare at the ceiling. It must have been sent by Reginad to deliver the wine, right? In the afternoon sword competition, he won the group again - of course, he couldn't lose.

He heard the door opening, footsteps, and the sound of something on the table...... However, he suddenly realized that something was wrong.

A chill suddenly appeared in the air, and he heard the sound of the sword unsheathed......

Zeloth's hair stood on end, and with lightning speed, he reached out and drew the long sword that was leaning against the bed, and the blade slashed halfway through, slashing the stabbing blade away.

Seeing that the attack was blocked, the assassin dodged and jumped backwards, the bright blade of his sword reflecting the warm light of the oil lamp.

The opponent also has a long sword in his hand.

It doesn't look like an assassin's weapon, as it's too long to carry around and get in the way. And...... It turned out to be Ionia's Legion Sabre? The other party was also wearing the armor of an ordinary soldier, but the black mask covered his cheeks, making it impossible to see his identity.

There are traitors in the army!

"Who is it?"

What answered him was a fierce attack, and the sword body of the clashing sword trembled.

He carried a long sword in his hand, and his attack was fierce, pressing forward step by step. Although the other party was very thin and even a head shorter than him, the power of the sword was not weak at all.

Almost reflexively, he unswiped the first sword that went straight to the door. This was followed by a second sword, the blade deflecting and slashing towards his throat. Zeloth took a step back, his back almost against the wall, his sword stabbing upwards to block the attack.

The assassin did not withdraw his sword, as he had estimated, and gave him a chance to step forward and reverse the disadvantage, and the sword slammed downward, and the blade of Zeloth's sword was immediately overwhelmed to the side-

A deadly gap was immediately exposed to his chest. The Assassin's sword grazed his blade, stabbing him in the heart in a burst of lightning.

Zelos hurriedly twisted his wrist and drew his sword slightly, taking advantage of the momentum to flick the assassin's sword away. The blade deflected, brushed past his left arm, and stabbed into the wall behind him. Zelos let go of his sword and slammed his elbow into the assassin's chest, forcing the air out of his lungs, and in a moment of trance, Zelos snatched his weapon and placed it on his neck.

He pulled down the man's mask, wanting to see what the killer really was.

A familiar woman's face appeared in front of his eyes, and the other party stuck out her tongue helplessly at him.

"Well, I lost."