“Are you here waiting for your parents?”

Edge truly wanted to throw a tantrum. This was the sixth time he was asked that question today, and after a long time of lining up, he was ready to throw hands.

This latest insult was by the recruiter. He was silver haired and probably meant well, but Edge was… well, on edge. Instead, he took a deep breath and announced again: “I’m here to join the military.”

The silver haired recruiter pushed up his glasses, his expression full of genuine concern- which irked Edge to no ends. “Young man, we have a minimum age to join the military, and that’s fifteen. You certainly don’t reach that minimum. You look like you are ten-”

“-twelve!-”

“-All the more so! We don’t take children to battles and wars. That’s a matter for adults.”

Edge internally groaned. He couldn’t afford to reveal that he had gained memories of his past life as the first Sword Saint; they’d throw him in a mental institution. However, in his past self’s time the military recruited through pure power and merit. Edge hoped that it was the same even now.

The recruiter was about to signal to the other knights to take him away. Sensing that, Edge drew his sword and pointed it at the recruiter’s neck. A murmur ran through the crowd.

“- I didn’t even see him move!-”

“Who the hell is this kid?”

“That’s Kevin Darkholm he’s pointing his sword at!”

The recruiter - evidently some famous knight named Darkholm - gently pushed the sword out of the way. Edge let him.

(This guy… didn’t even blink. He’s good.) Edge thought, sheathing his sword.

After a moment of silence, Darkholm asked, “Are we so desperate as to recruit a child who’s faster with his sword than the rest?”

Edge answered, “Give me the opportunity to show that the strength of my blade is greater than anyone here as well.”

“Even me?” Darkholm gave a wry smile.

“Even you,” Edge answered confidently.

In a flash, Edge drew his sword to parry Darkholm’s incoming blade. The former jumped on the recruiter’s table to gain some height, at the same time using strength enhancements to push the blade aside. He didn’t lose even a little of his balance.

Immediately a circle formed around them as the others quickly pushed back to avoid the swing of the blades. Both swords moved in flashes too fast for normal people to perceive - but the two participants could follow the flow of the blades well.

Their dance became faster and faster, until Edge didn’t even have time to think of his actions, only using reactions to parry the blade. Besides that, he had a weakness as well - the table under his feet wobbled dangerously, creating an uneven surface to balance on. Still he managed both the surface and the sword well.

Eventually though Edge was unbalanced enough to fall off the table - no, not fall, he jumped off the table, kicking it towards Darkholm. The latter slashed the table in half to get to Edge, but faltered when he realised he lost sight of the shorter man.

That’s when the cold shudder of an impending death went through his back, and he turned just at the right moment to parry that dangerous strike from his left.

Engaged in such a dangerous fight, both participants didn’t notice the eerie grin on each of their faces.

Just as Darkholm’s blade cut down towards Edge’s shoulder, and Edge’s shortsword was about to dig deep into Darkholm’s waist -

“STOP YOU TWO!”

A voice cut through their battle, grinding it into a halt.

At the front of the tent was a red haired young man dressed in a white uniform. He was panting, most probably from having to push his way through the crowd.

“What the hell, Kevin?” the red haired man addressed Darkholm. With reluctance, the latter stepped back and sheathed his sword as the other man marched up to him.

“I never expected this from you, of all people! And towards a little guy? Jeez!”

“Grant,” Darkholm greeted the other man calmly.

“Don’t ‘Grant’ me! Jeez…” This person - Grant - turned to Edge and gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that, little guy. But you were pretty impressive, being able to parry Kevin’s slashes just with a little physical enhancement.”

“… ‘a little’?” Darkholm narrowed his eyes and looked at Edge again, no doubt using a ‘Magic Scan’ enhancement. He raised a brow, then closed his eyes. “A level one speed enhancement, a level two strength enhancement…” he muttered more to himself.

Each level represents a 10% increase, so Edge’s speed was increased by a mere 0.1 while his strength was increased by 0.2. That was only a slight increase from the norm. Yet he was able to keep up with Darkholm with those little increases.

It wasn’t that hard for Edge, he merely needed the first strike of their blades to guess how much he needed to increase from his current status.

Grant had his arm around Darkholm’s shoulders as he introduced himself. “Grant Lionkin, at your service. And I guess you know Kevin Darkholm already.” Edge nodded.

“I am here to join the military,” Edge repeated once again.

Grant cradled his chin with two fingers, making a thinking expression. “I’d love to welcome you to the military little guy, but rules are still rules: minimum age is fifteen. I heard you’re twelve now; why don’t you come back when you’re fifteen? We would open our arms to you when it happens.”

Edge had to hold back his desire to throw a tantrum. He gave a little bow towards the two men and walked off as calmly as he could; the crowd parted to let him out.

Inside though, he was seething. And lost.

He entered the Capital City fully concentrating on becoming a soldier, but this minimum age requirement had him stumped. At any rate, he had to wait three more years to join the military. What would he do in the meantime?

He thought about returning back home, but after the stunt he pulled with defeating his brother, he felt embarrassed to return empty handed. In that case, he needed to find work and board in the city.

He had little in ways of money, definitely not enough to live a modest lifestyle. He had to find a job and place to live as soon as possible.

It was as he was thinking about what to do, he was suddenly accosted.

In front of him was Kevin Darkholm.

Both men looked at reach other awkwardly.

“… Can I help you?” Edge asked as politely as he could muster.

The older man held out a leaflet to him. Edge took a look at it.

The leaflet was about an Adventurers’ Guild recruitment. His eyes immediately went to the required minimum age: twelve.

He looked back up at Darkholm, who merely nodded and then walked away.

Edge paused, then sighed. (Might as well…) he thought, taking a look at the leaflet. Their recruitment began tomorrow at the Adventurers’ Guild; Edge noted that and began his journey to find a place to stay at the moment.

Yet indeed fate calls to fate, and Edge would become a soldier soon - just, perhaps, not in the way he wanted.