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Leon’s reaction was a perfectly natural one. How was one supposed to believe that the person who taught martial arts to the Titans was none other than the Holy King Rodrick himself? Leon had never seen it in any book in the library, nor had he ever heard such a story from anyone.
Of course, ever since “obtaining” El-Cid, he’d heard a number of stories of that sort—but no matter how often he heard them, he couldn’t help being shocked each time. They were hidden histories even renowned scholars were unaware of.
If it hadn’t been El-Cid himself saying it, even Leon would have doubted it. That was how much weight Rodrick’s name truly carried.
Meanwhile, El-Cid was lost in his memories. He couldn’t care less about how shocked Leon was.
—Sure, they manage on their own now, but back then, they couldn’t understand a word I said. It was a nightmare. Man, if only it weren’t for that goddamn Goddess…
“Huh? What’s the Goddess got to do with this?”
—What do you mean, ‘why’? She dumped the whole thing on me.
With no particular intention to hide anything, El-Cid casually began unraveling the story behind that hidden history.
—You know the origin of the Titans, right?
“Yeah, something about a bunch of ogres receiving wisdom...
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