The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

In the pale light of early dawn, a subdued hush settled over the White Lion fortress. Klaus found himself walking through the central corridors, the soles of his boots clicking against the stone floor. Another day, another round of training. Yet he sensed a shift in the air—a feeling that not only Team 55 but the entire fortress was stirring with renewed fervor. Whispers the previous evening hinted that various squads were testing each other more aggressively, vying for rank adjustments. The competitive spirit of White Lion never slept, but it seemed to have caught a second wind.

As Klaus neared the smaller courtyard Team 55 often used, he noticed the broad-shouldered swordsman—whose name he'd finally learned was Juron—waiting, arms folded. Juron caught sight of Klaus and nodded. His posture was more relaxed than it had been days ago, and the guarded look in his eyes had softened into something resembling respect.

"Morning," Juron greeted. "Squad's trickling in. We ended later than usual last night, so people are a bit slow."

Klaus returned the nod. "Understood." He leaned against the wooden fence, scanning the yard. It was empty but for them and a faint breeze that rustled the training dummies. "We'll work on a condensed version of the scenario first, then a new drill."

Juron seemed curious. "Another infiltration exercise?"

Klaus shook his head. "Not exactly. Something else that'll sharpen our synergy—especially for dealing with unexpected threats."
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Before Juron could ask further, the rest of Team 55 arrived in small groups. Alexandra was among them, lightly stifling a yawn but looking otherwise composed. Once they gathered, Klaus wasted no time.

"Over the last two days, we've run infiltration scenarios. You improved—less confusion, better coverage. Today, I want to test how well you adapt to unexpected hazards. We'll still use the chest as an objective, but the environment will change mid-scenario."

He gestured to a stack of wooden crates and planks at the courtyard's edge. "We'll set up basic obstacles—walls, corridors, partial barriers—and at random intervals, I'll rearrange them. Attacking or defending, you'll have to adjust your route."

A few exchanged apprehensive looks, but also a spark of intrigue lit their eyes. They were growing used to Klaus's methodical approach.

First Run:

They set the chest in the center again. Klaus and Juron assembled a few makeshift barriers: a row of crates forming a narrow passage, a waist-high plank wall. Then, Klaus split the squad into attackers and defenders. Alexandra stuck with the defenders this time, evidently wanting to see how she'd fare if conditions changed mid-fight.

The scenario began with moderate intensity. Attackers tried to slip through the makeshift corridor while defenders monitored from behind the plank wall. Communication had improved: "Left flank!" someone shouted, prompting a quick pivot by the defenders. The broad-shouldered Juron led a small group in a bold rush to hamper the attackers.

Midway through, Klaus called out, "Obstacle shift!" He hurried over to the crates, pulling them aside to open a new path. A second set of crates partially blocked the defenders' vantage point. Suddenly, the corridor was gone, replaced by an angled route on the opposite side.

Confusion reigned briefly—defenders scrambled to reorient, while attackers capitalized on the new opening. In that chaos, half the attackers nearly dragged the chest to the yard's boundary. Only a last-second interception from Alexandra, along with two allies, stopped them.

"Reset!" Klaus commanded once the dust settled. "You saw how fast an environment tweak can undermine a static plan. Don't just memorize the field—memorize each other's roles."

They panted and nodded, exchanging quick words about staying flexible. One or two rubbed bruises from close-quarter collisions, but no one complained.

Second Run:

Klaus rearranged the crates again, forming an open center but placing a tall barrier on one side. This time, the defenders adopted a looser formation, aware that the field could shift. Attackers, likewise, spread out. Once the scenario began, both sides probed cautiously.

When Klaus called "Obstacle shift!" defenders immediately adjusted, having mentally prepared for something abrupt. Attackers tried a feint to exploit the barrier's new angle, but the defenders had spaced themselves. They closed ranks quickly, denying the chest grab. The simulation ended with a narrow defender victory.

A short break followed. Juron whistled, impressed. "We're starting to anticipate changes. It's… less hectic."

Alexandra wiped sweat from her brow, looking at Klaus. "This environment tweak is surprisingly effective at forcing on-the-spot synergy."

He nodded. "Your calls were faster too. The more you adapt, the more natural it becomes."

* * *

After lunch, they shifted to more conventional drills, splitting into pairs for an hour of refining technical skills. Klaus noticed the improvement in footwork, especially the way people automatically left space for a partner to move through. Gains that seemed small were adding up. Even the lean swordsman who'd initially been cold to Klaus looked more comfortable receiving corrections.

During a lull, Alexandra sidled up to Klaus. "You hear any rumors about other squads wanting a match? I've picked up chatter that a few mid-ranked teams are curious about us."

Klaus exhaled thoughtfully. "Not surprising. We've been training intensely. Word spreads."

In White Lion, squads often tested each other to gauge relative strengths, especially if they suspected a lower-ranked squad was about to climb. Klaus recalled Kalix's parting note that Team 55 was "inconsistent," but if they kept showing daily improvement, it was only a matter of time before a direct challenge arrived.

Sure enough, near day's end, a pair of White Lion officers approached the training yard. One was an older man with a faint scar across his cheek, the other a younger woman with a scroll in hand. The older man raised a hand in greeting. "Team 55?"

Everyone paused, turning. Klaus stepped forward, Alexandra at his side. "Yes?"

"We have a scheduling notice," the man said briskly. "Team 19 requested a friendly spar tomorrow afternoon. They're about ten ranks above you, but they claim to want to see if rumors of your improvement are true." He handed Alexandra the scroll. "Captain Kalix approved. If you accept, show up at the northern field at midday."

Alexandra glanced at Klaus. The entire team perked up—some excited, others anxious. The broad-shouldered Juron's jaw set in a determined line.

Klaus studied the scroll details. "We accept."

"Great," said the officer, tone neutral. "Hope you're ready. Team 19's known for aggressive synergy. Good luck." With that, the pair turned and left.

A ripple of energy swept through Team 55. They had yet to face an official inter-squad spar since Klaus arrived. Whispers escalated:

"Team 19… aren't they known for fast flank attacks?"

"Heard they coordinate aura bursts for a massive push."

Klaus raised a hand. "One challenge at a time. We still have tomorrow morning to prepare. Let's remain calm."

They forced themselves to settle down, though excitement buzzed in their eyes. This was the perfect chance to prove themselves beyond training scenarios—and perhaps climb the internal rankings if they won.

Klaus quickly reorganized the remainder of the afternoon session. "We'll do a short scenario to simulate dealing with a high-pressure assault," he told them. "Team 19 apparently uses speed and aura synergy. That means they'll try to overwhelm or flank us fast."

He guided them through a condensed drill, focusing on quick re-formations: how to pivot from a two-line defense to a single wedge, or how to shift from a scattered formation into a tight circle if pinned. The team was visibly tired but pushed through, fueled by the upcoming test.

When the sun dipped low, painting the fortress in red-gold light, Klaus finally ended the day's training. As they retreated to the barracks, the atmosphere bristled with anticipation for tomorrow's match.

* * *

Night fell. Inside the barracks, the usual hush was tinged with a collective adrenaline. People polished gear, re-checked swords, and joked nervously. Alexandra, perched on a bunk's edge, polished her rapier. Juron paced, arms folded behind his back, occasionally muttering half-formed strategies.

Klaus stood by the mission board. He traced his finger across old records, feeling the weight of the squad's desire to move up. If they beat Team 19, it would mark a major step forward—maybe even boost their rank significantly. If they failed, cynics would say they were all hype.

He turned to address the room. "Tomorrow's spar is a standard format: up to eight from each side, no lethal force, best of three rounds. Team 19 is known for rushing early to break lines. We'll do what we've practiced—maintain synergy, watch flanks, and stay adaptable."

Some nodded, others looked tense. The lean swordsman asked, "Which eight are going?"

Klaus listed them: Alexandra, Juron, the lean swordsman himself, plus five others who'd shown consistent synergy. The rest would watch from the sidelines, gleaning lessons for future matches.

Juron exhaled. "Guess that's settled."

Before lights-out, they gathered in a tight circle for a final pep talk. Klaus kept it straightforward: "We've improved. Believe in that improvement. Stick to the synergy we built. If they're fast, we respond with unity."

He glimpsed acceptance in their eyes. Possibly even quiet confidence.

Eventually, the lanterns dimmed. People climbed into bunks, trying to get some sleep before the next day's challenge. Klaus lay awake longer than most. Bits of strategy churned in his mind—ways to handle a sudden aura barrage, or how to quickly re-form if Team 19 pinned them against the boundary.

He'd never been one to rely on luck. Hard practice had brought Team 55 this far, and he believed the same approach would carry them through tomorrow. Still, an undercurrent of nerves whispered in the back of his head: What if Team 19's synergy was sharper, or their aura bursts unstoppable? Klaus dismissed the thought—he'd face that possibility head-on.

He glanced across the dim barracks. He could make out Juron's silhouette, the big man breathing evenly, apparently asleep. Alexandra's bunk was near the door; she was probably half-awake, mind spinning as well. Everyone had a stake in tomorrow's outcome.

At last, exhaustion claimed him. The fortress's distant patrol horns and the rustle of the wind lulled Klaus into uneasy dreams of swirling auras and frantic re-formations. He welcomed the chance for a few hours' respite.