The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Chapter 172: Recognition And Responsibility

The weight of Team 55’s recent victory still hung in the air, but Klaus knew that success was only a temporary reprieve. The real test wasn’t winning a single battle—it was proving that they could sustain their momentum, that their growth wasn’t a fleeting moment but a foundation upon which they could build.

The morning air was crisp as Klaus led Team 55 through their regular drills in the training yard. The rhythm of synchronized movements filled the space, swords flashing under the rising sun. There was no more hesitation in their steps—only determination. The previous weeks of relentless training had begun to take root, and for the first time since he arrived, Klaus sensed something close to genuine unity among them.

It was during their afternoon drills that a messenger arrived, his uniform crisp, his demeanor stiff with formality. "Captain Kalix requests your presence, Klaus Lionhart," the young soldier announced, voice carrying across the courtyard.

Klaus wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. He had expected something like this—Team 55’s growth hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Kalix wasn’t the type to let promising developments pass without intervention.

---

Kalix’s office was as spartan as ever, the bare stone walls giving nothing away. The man himself sat behind his heavy wooden desk, his arms crossed as Klaus stepped inside. His expression, as always, was difficult to read—somewhere between approval and calculation.

"You’ve made progress," Kalix said without preamble, his sharp gaze lingering on Klaus as if assessing him once more. "Team 55 has improved in ways I hadn’t expected. Enough that it’s time for them to learn something more advanced."

He reached for a thick, leather-bound book resting atop his desk and slid it toward Klaus. The cover was old but well-kept, embossed with the image of a lion’s claw tearing through the air.

"This," Kalix said, tapping the book’s surface, "is the Lion’s Roar Formation. It’s one of White Lion’s most advanced sword techniques, something only the top-tier squads have permission to learn. Until now, Team 55 was never considered for it—because they lacked synergy." He leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "But you’ve changed that. And so, I’m giving you the right to decide who among your team will learn it."

Klaus opened the book, scanning its contents. Diagrams detailed precise movements, intricate footwork, and aura synchronization patterns that allowed multiple fighters to unleash a single devastating attack. The Lion’s Claw Strike was the culmination of the technique—when executed flawlessly, the combined aura of the fighters would manifest into the form of a spectral lion’s claw, capable of overwhelming even the most fortified defenses.

It was an elite formation, one that required absolute coordination between those performing it. And one that, no matter how skilled Klaus was, he would never be able to use himself.

His arcane energy couldn’t mix with aura.

Greed’s words echoed in his mind:

Arcane energy and aura are like oil and water—they don’t mix.

Klaus closed the book. "How many do I choose?"

"Four," Kalix replied. "The formation works best with a team of five, including a leader to direct it. Choose carefully—it’s not just about individual talent but about trust and teamwork. The ones you pick will train separately to master this technique."

Klaus nodded. He already had a few names in mind.

Kalix stood up, signaling the end of their meeting, but before Klaus could leave, the captain spoke again. "One more thing. As the leader of Team 55, you’re now eligible for a personal reward from the Vault of Techniques. You may select one manual of your choosing."

Klaus didn’t react outwardly, but the news intrigued him.

The Vault of Techniques was a restricted archive within White Lion, housing countless manuals on swordsmanship, martial techniques, and movement arts. Unlike normal training halls, where soldiers were only given standard methods to practice, the Vault was exclusive—only accessible to those who had earned the right through achievements.

Kalix’s lips curled slightly in something resembling amusement. "Consider it a privilege of leadership. You’ll have one hour inside. Choose wisely."

---

The Vault of Techniques was a grand chamber beneath the main fortress, its stone walls lined with shelves stretching high into the vaulted ceiling. Unlike the White Lion’s standard armory, where manuals were exchanged for merit points, the Vault’s selections were unique—each book a treasure forged through years of refinement.

A seasoned archivist, an older man with graying hair and keen eyes, met Klaus at the entrance. "You have permission to select one technique," the archivist stated. "Weapons, movement, or auxiliary skills—it’s up to you."

Klaus took his time scanning the rows of manuals. He ignored the sections focused on aura-based techniques—those would be useless to him. Instead, he searched for something adaptable, something that could enhance his already monstrous combat efficiency.

His eyes landed on a book titled Phantom Step.

He pulled it from the shelf, flipping through its contents.

Unlike standard movement techniques, which focused on increasing speed or balance, Phantom Step emphasized unpredictable motion—rapid shifts, sudden direction changes, and the ability to appear as though one’s movements had momentary afterimages. It was a technique designed for those who relied on precision over brute force.

Even more importantly, it didn’t require aura to use.

It was perfect.

"I’ll take this one," Klaus said, handing it to the archivist.

The man nodded, making a note in the record books. "A wise choice."

---

That evening, Klaus returned to Team 55’s barracks, the weight of responsibility pressing on him. He gathered the squad and, without unnecessary preamble, announced his decision.

"We’ve been given access to an elite formation—the Lion’s Roar Formation. It requires five members working in complete unison to execute. I’ve been given the authority to select four of you to train in it."

Murmurs rippled through the room. The significance wasn’t lost on anyone.

Klaus’s gaze swept over them before he made his choices.

"Juron." The broad-shouldered swordsman straightened, a gleam of determination in his eyes.

"Alexandra." She smirked slightly, already expecting it.

He continued, picking two others who had consistently shown both discipline and coordination in their training. Each fighter nodded, some with quiet excitement, others with deep focus.

"You’ll begin training separately tomorrow," Klaus continued. "Mastering this technique won’t be easy. But if we succeed, Team 55 won’t just be a competent squad—we’ll be an elite force in White Lion."

His words carried weight, not as empty motivation, but as fact.

As the team dispersed, Alexandra lingered behind. "You’re not learning it?"

Klaus shook his head. "I can’t. It requires synchronized aura. That’s not something I can do."

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t press the issue. "Still, it suits us. I’ll make sure we don’t waste this opportunity."

Klaus nodded. "Good."

That night, after the barracks quieted, he sat near his cot, flipping open Phantom Step. He read through its pages, memorizing every motion, every technique. He could already see how it would integrate into his combat style.

Mastering it would take time, but that didn’t matter.

He would push himself, just as he pushed his team. Continue reading at NovelBin.Côm