The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Klaus didn’t react right away, letting the murmured challenge hang between them. The man with narrow, watchful eyes—one of Team 55’s more experienced members—stood with arms folded, clearly unconvinced by Klaus’s one-sided victory in the sparring circle.

Kalix, the White Lion’s captain, watched from a short distance. He was visibly amused, as though any further confrontation was a welcome bit of excitement in his hectic routine. "Looks like someone wants another match," he said lightly, glancing between Klaus and the squad member.

But the man shook his head. "Not a match. Not yet." His gaze shifted back to Klaus. "Strength alone doesn’t make a leader. That’s what I’m looking for."

A few members of Team 55—still recovering from the assessment—exchanged uncertain looks. Some clearly admired Klaus’s overwhelming skill, while others harbored doubts about whether he could truly guide them.

Kalix let out a low chuckle. "Well, that’s for tomorrow and beyond. I’ve assigned Klaus to Team 55 for a reason: you’ve got potential, but no cohesion. He can help fix that." With a shrug, he added, "Anyway, I’ve got other duties. You all figure this out."

He clapped Klaus on the shoulder—an oddly casual gesture, considering he commanded the entire fortress—and turned to go. "Alexandra, keep an eye on him," he tossed over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes but gave a small nod, as if she’d already been planning to do exactly that.

***

Once the crowd dispersed, Klaus followed Alexandra across the wide courtyard and into Team 55’s barracks. The building was unremarkable—thick walls, utilitarian bunks, a mission board listing past operations. As Klaus stepped in, the low chatter died instantly.

A few pairs of eyes flicked his way, then darted to Alexandra. There was no open hostility; instead, a wary tension hung in the air. Most had witnessed the spar. Now they were grappling with the fact that Kalix—notoriously strict about roster changes—had dropped Klaus into their midst.

One soldier, arms still crossed, stepped forward. He was broad-shouldered, with a stern face and a lingering scowl. "We know you can fight," he said, voice measured. "But that doesn’t make you our commander."

Klaus inclined his head calmly. "I understand. Leadership’s earned over time."

A taut silence followed, until Alexandra cleared her throat. "Captain Kalix wants you all to shape up. You might not like the method, but you don’t have to like it to improve."

The broad-shouldered man’s gaze shifted from her to Klaus. "Guess we’ll see if you can coordinate a real mission—or if you’re just a fancy swordsman." Discover more stories at NovelBin.Côm

Klaus gave a slight nod. He wouldn’t argue the point. If they demanded proof, they’d get it soon enough.

Later, Klaus ventured into the fortress mess hall—a large chamber filled with the scents of stew and roasted vegetables. Soldiers crowded around wooden tables, discussing upcoming training or recent missions. Although Klaus’s presence drew stares—he was widely known as the youngest Swordmaster—most of the White Lion cared less about legends and more about day-to-day results.

Seated at the end of a long bench, Klaus ate quickly. Nearby, Alexandra sat, fiddling with a cup of water. She glanced around at the curious onlookers, then leaned toward Klaus with a wry smirk.

"They’re itching to see if you’ll really lead Team 55. Kalix’s endorsement only goes so far. You’ll have to show them something concrete."

"I plan to," he answered. "Starting tomorrow, I’ll run a simple drill to figure out each person’s strengths and weaknesses."

She raised an eyebrow. "Simple, huh? They’re not used to drills from an outsider."

Klaus took a final bite of stew. "Then I’ll adapt. I didn’t ask to be placed here, but Kalix made his choice. I’ll make it work."

A flicker of approval crossed her features, but she shrugged it off. "Just don’t be surprised if some resist you at first."

He quietly stood, returning the empty tray. "Resistance is fine."

***

When dawn broke, Klaus stepped onto one of the training fields behind the barracks. A scattering of Team 55 members waited—some obviously still waking up, others looking annoyed at the early call. The broad-shouldered swordsman was present, arms crossed yet again, face unreadable.

Klaus wasted no time. "We’ll start with a coordination drill. Form two lines."

They exchanged glances, a few rolling their eyes, but they followed instructions. Alexandra watched from the sidelines, her posture relaxed but her eyes keenly focused.

The first drill was basic: defensive stance transitions. Klaus walked the lines, calling out adjustments—footwork corrections, shifting balance, pairing up so that each fighter covered a partner’s flank. Some bristled at being told to fix things they’d done for years. Others recognized he had a knack for spotting inefficiencies.

A swordsman with a high-tier green core scowled as Klaus demonstrated a minor change in elbow placement. "We’re not raw recruits," he said under his breath.

"No," Klaus agreed, stepping back, "but you rely too much on upper-body strength. A quick opponent will exploit that imbalance."

Behind him, someone let out a scoff, but no one contradicted him. They’d seen him dismantle five of their best the day before.

Next came offensive maneuvers. Klaus asked them to form pairs and practice a synchronized attack pattern—one feinting high while the other struck low. It quickly became apparent that half of them moved out of sync. Klaus paused the drill, pointing out the mismatches.

"Your timing’s off," he said. "It leaves a gap. An enemy could counter in that half-second."

Some frowned but tried again. The results improved slightly, though there was obvious frustration.

At some point during the drills, Kalix appeared briefly, standing on an upper walkway overlooking the courtyard. Likely between meetings, he cast a quick glance at Klaus and Team 55. Klaus didn’t pause to acknowledge him, continuing to correct stances and formations. When Klaus finally glanced up, Kalix was already gone.

Alexandra joined Klaus as the squad took a short break. "Not bad. They’re actually listening, grudgingly."

Klaus nodded. "They’ll listen more once they see results in a real scenario. Today’s just the foundation."

She considered him, arms folded. "You sure you’re up for dealing with the attitudes?"

He allowed a faint smile. "Yes. Attitudes can change. Skills can be honed."

***

The day ended with the squad noticeably tired. Some members looked more open-minded about Klaus’s drills, while a few others seemed to bristle even more at his critiques. The broad-shouldered swordsman hadn’t said much after the initial test, but Klaus caught the man watching him intently.

At dusk, they regrouped in the barracks, sweaty and hungry from the day’s work. Klaus kept his wrap-up brief. "Tomorrow, we’ll incorporate some scenario-based training. That’ll show us how these fundamentals apply under pressure."

No one openly challenged him now, though a ripple of tension remained.

As the squad filed out, the swordsman paused by Klaus. "Still not sold on you," he muttered. "But… you’re not a blowhard, at least."

Klaus gave a curt nod. "That’s enough for me."

The man grunted, then left.

Klaus lingered, gazing at the mission board on the barracks wall. Past performance logs showed Team 55’s inconsistent track record—some missions gone well, others poorly coordinated. He sensed deep frustration beneath their bravado.

He set down his gear, aware that tomorrow’s session would be crucial. Alexandra stood nearby, tying back her hair. "You’ve made progress," she said quietly.

He shrugged lightly. "A start. We’ll see how they do when put under real stress." @@novelbin@@

A mild grin played at her lips. "You always did like being systematic."

He took that as an oblique compliment. "Better than winging it."

Late in the night, the barracks lights dimmed. Klaus lay on his bunk, hearing the faint rustle of the squad settling down. The fortress outside was never truly silent—patrols, distant clangs of late-night training. He closed his eyes, mind sifting through ways to polish their synergy, shape them into a cohesive force.

He wouldn’t rely on titles or connections, and he wasn’t here by personal choice, either—Kalix had placed him with Team 55, presumably because Alexandra was there, and because they needed the boost. If tomorrow went well, maybe they’d stop seeing him as just "the famed youngest Swordmaster." Maybe they’d start seeing a leader.

In the darkness, Klaus silently reaffirmed his plan: continue forging them step by step, until none could deny his command.