The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 178: A Measure Of Growth (2)

The morning sun cast long shadows across the training yard as Klaus observed his team executing the Lion's Roar Formation for the fifth time that day. Their movements had become fluid, their auras merging with a synchronicity that would have seemed impossible mere weeks ago. The spectral lion's claw manifested with growing stability, its translucent form now maintaining coherence for nearly fifteen seconds before dissolving.

Progress, but not perfection.

"Again," Klaus commanded, his voice calm but unyielding.

Juron exhaled sharply, sweat beading on his forehead. "We've been at this since dawn."

"And we'll continue until nightfall if necessary," Klaus replied, crossing his arms. "Team 13 won't wait for us to be ready."

The squad exchanged glances but moved back into position without protest. They had come to understand that Klaus's methods, though demanding, yielded results. Their rapid rise through White Lion's ranks was testament enough to that.

As they prepared to execute the formation again, a messenger approached, his uniform bearing the insignia of Captain Kalix's division.

"Klaus Lionhart," the young soldier announced, "Captain Kalix requests your immediate presence."

Klaus studied the messenger's demeanor—tense, uncomfortable. Whatever Kalix wanted, it wasn't routine.

"Continue practicing," he instructed his team. "Work on maintaining the formation's cohesion during movement."

Alexandra nodded, taking command as Klaus departed. He heard her voice fade behind him: "From the beginning. Focus on your breathing..."

Captain Kalix's office was not empty when Klaus arrived. Standing beside the captain's desk was a tall, slender man with dark hair pulled back in a tight knot. His uniform bore the emblem of Team 13—a stylized silver lion's head with thirteen stars surrounding it. Varis Dawnreaver, leader of one of White Lion's most elite squads.

Klaus entered without hesitation, his expression revealing nothing.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

Kalix gestured to the man beside him. "I believe you know Commander Varis."

Klaus inclined his head slightly. "By reputation."

Varis's eyes narrowed, studying Klaus with calculated intensity. "I've heard much about you as well, Lionhart. Your team's... advancement has been quite remarkable."

The way he emphasized "advancement" carried a subtle weight, as if questioning its legitimacy.

"Thank you," Klaus replied simply.

Kalix cleared his throat. "Commander Varis has submitted an official request for a ranking match against Team 55."

So it had come. Sooner than expected, but not unprepared for.

"When?" Klaus asked.

"Three days from now," Varis answered before Kalix could speak. "Unless you require more time to prepare."

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable—a suggestion that Team 55 might not be ready, that they needed special accommodation.

"Three days is sufficient," Klaus replied coolly.

Varis smiled thinly. "Excellent. I look forward to seeing if your team's reputation is deserved."

As Varis turned to leave, he paused beside Klaus. "One more thing," he added, his voice low enough that only Klaus could hear. "My sources tell me you've been granted access to the Lion's Roar Formation. Interesting choice for such an... unconventional team."

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Without waiting for a response, he departed, leaving Klaus alone with Captain Kalix.

Kalix sighed once the door closed. "I would have preferred to delay this challenge."

"Why?" Klaus asked. "We knew it was coming."

"Because Team 13 doesn't issue challenges lightly," Kalix answered, his expression grave. "They've been observing your training sessions, analyzing your tactics, studying your weaknesses."

Klaus wasn't surprised. It was what he would have done.

"And what have they learned?"

Kalix's lips tightened into a thin line. "Enough to be confident in their victory. They've developed counter-strategies specifically for your team's fighting style."

Klaus considered this. "Then we'll have to surprise them."

"That won't be easy," Kalix warned. "Varis is thorough. He's been captain of Team 13 for five years. They've never lost a ranking match."

"There's always a first time," Klaus replied.

Kalix studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "There's something else you should know. Varis has requested special permission for this match."

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "What kind of permission?"

"Full-contact combat rules," Kalix said grimly. "No restrictions on technique or force, short of lethal strikes."

Standard ranking matches operated under controlled conditions—limited force, restricted techniques, and predetermined boundaries. Full-contact meant real combat conditions. Real danger.

"Why would he request that?" Klaus asked, though he already suspected the answer.

"Because he wants to break you," Kalix said bluntly. "Not just defeat you—destroy any notion that Team 55 deserves its rising status."

Klaus nodded slowly. "And you approved this request."

It wasn't a question.

"I did," Kalix confirmed. "Because I believe your team needs to be tested. Real combat isn't regulated or fair. If Team 55 is truly becoming what I think it is, you need to prove it."

Klaus turned to leave, but Kalix's voice stopped him at the door.

"Lionhart. Be careful. Team 13 isn't like the others you've faced. They're killers in all but name."

Klaus looked back over his shoulder. "So am I."

When Klaus returned to the training yard, he found his team still practicing the Lion's Roar Formation. Their movements were sharper now, more synchronized than when he'd left. Alexandra noticed him first, breaking formation as the others followed suit.

"What did Kalix want?" she asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

Klaus's gaze swept over the squad—Juron's strength, Alexandra's precision, Finn's adaptability, Darius's discipline, Nolan's determination. They had come far under his guidance, further than anyone had expected. But what awaited them now would test everything they had learned.

"Team 13 has officially challenged us to a ranking match," he announced. "Three days from now. Full-contact rules."

A heavy silence fell over the group.

Juron cracked his knuckles. "About time they showed themselves."

Finn looked less certain. "Full-contact? That's unusual for a ranking match."

"It means they want to hurt us," Alexandra said bluntly. "Not just win."

Klaus nodded. "They've been watching us, studying our tactics. They believe they've found our weaknesses."

"And have they?" Darius asked quietly.

Klaus met his gaze. "Perhaps. But knowing a weakness exists is not the same as exploiting it."

He moved to the center of the yard, drawing his sword in one fluid motion. The blade caught the sunlight, gleaming silver.

"From this moment, we change our approach," he declared. "Everything we've shown in public training—our formations, our tactics, our techniques—we abandon them. We have three days to develop something new, something they haven't seen."

Alexandra's eyes widened slightly. "You want us to create entirely new combat patterns in just three days?"

"No," Klaus replied. "I want us to unlearn predictability. Team 13 expects us to fight according to patterns they've observed. We won't give them that satisfaction."

Juron frowned. "But what about the Lion's Roar Formation? We've barely mastered it."

"They know about it," Klaus said. "They'll be prepared to counter it. We'll use that against them."

Understanding dawned in Alexandra's eyes. "A feint. Make them think we're relying on the formation..."

"...while we hit them with something else entirely," Klaus finished. "But for that to work, we need something they haven't seen before."

He turned to face the squad fully, his blue eyes intense with purpose.

"For the next three days, you won't sleep in the barracks. You won't train in public. We'll use the hidden training ground in the western forest—the one Captain Kalix showed me when I first arrived."

"What about the Lion's Roar Formation?" Finn asked. "Do we abandon it completely?"

Klaus shook his head. "No. We perfect it. But we also develop a counter to our own technique—because that's exactly what Team 13 will bring against us."

"Fighting ourselves," Juron muttered. "That's new."

"It's necessary," Klaus replied. "Team 13 wants to break us. We need to be unbreakable."

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard, Klaus saw determination harden in the eyes of his team. They had faced challenges before, overcome obstacles that should have been insurmountable. This was just another test—perhaps their most difficult yet, but still just a test.

"Pack your essentials," he ordered. "We leave within the hour."

As the squad dispersed to prepare, Alexandra lingered behind.

"You're not telling us everything," she said quietly. "What else did Kalix say?"

Klaus met her gaze steadily. "Team 13 has never lost a ranking match."

Alexandra's lips curved into a slight smile. "Neither have we."

"True," Klaus acknowledged. "But our record is considerably shorter."

"Does that worry you?" she asked.

Klaus thought of all the battles he had fought, all the opponents he had faced in his previous life. Team 13 was formidable, yes—but they were just men. And men could be defeated.

"No," he replied truthfully. "What worries me is complacency. Victory breeds confidence, but overconfidence leads to failure."

Alexandra nodded slowly. "Then we won't fail."

As she walked away, Klaus returned to his own preparations. In his mind, he was already mapping out the coming days—the training regimens, the tactical adjustments, the contingencies for every possible scenario.

Team 13 thought they understood Team 55. They believed they had identified their weaknesses, analyzed their patterns, predicted their responses.

What they didn't realize was that Team 55 was still evolving.

And in three days, they would discover just how dangerous that evolution had become.