Chapter 24
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 24
She had a talent for the sword.
She first realized this fact when she was ten years old.
While she was doing her usual chores, her half-brother approached her and tossed her a wooden sword.
—Hey, let’s play at dueling. You’re half-noble, so you should at least know how to handle a sword, right?
It was nonsense.
This was the same brother who had always called her a lowborn and refused to even acknowledge they shared the same blood.
She had never even held a sword, let alone sat at the same dinner table as him, yet here he was, suddenly suggesting they "play."
It was obvious bullying, but Felicia didn't have the right to refuse.
—I’m attacking first! Try and block this!
With an excited shout, the one-sided humiliation began.
He would feint a strike, and the moment her posture wavered even slightly, the wooden sword would come flying in.
Every time it struck her thighs or shoulders, a scream escaped her lips from the searing pain.
To avoid the agony, Felicia had no choice but to become desperate.
And then, something strange happened.
‘I can see it.’
Strangely enough, the approaching wooden sword became incredibly clear.
To be precise, she could sense the very movements of his muscles and feet as if she were grasping them in her hands.
Before long, Felicia was parrying every single strike that came her way.
She even began to launch counterattacks through the gaps that occasionally appeared.
—S-stop! I said stop! Agh!
Her brother, who had been learning the sword for years, was soon utterly defeated by Felicia.
When she finally snapped out of it, she realized her father had been watching the entire scene.
Her heart pounded at the discovery of a talent she never knew she had.
She even harbored a faint hope that her father might praise her.
But that expectation was soon shattered into pieces.
—Damn it. This girl—a stain on my very existence—has scraped away the talent meant for my son. There isn't a single thing about her I like.
—Y-Your Grace! This is a talent bestowed by the heavens!
—So what? What use is talent in a girl who can’t be put to work! I don't want to see her face. Send her to help in the stables!
—Your Grace!
It felt as if her world was collapsing.
Her father had been overjoyed by the meager, grain-sized talent of the brother lying at her feet.
Yet, no matter how great Felicia’s talent was, he wouldn't spare her a single glance.
On that day, when her last shred of hope vanished, Felicia wailed until her eyes were swollen.
But no matter how wronged or sad she felt, she never let go of the wooden sword.
Because she loved the sensation of moving freely, exactly as she desired, more than anything else.
When she swung that wooden sword, it felt as if she were in another world.
Her brothers and their retainers mocked her.
They told her that no matter how well she handled a sword, she was destined to die as nothing more than a servant.
It was an insult born of jealousy and inferiority, but it wasn't entirely wrong.
‘I am just a maid, after all.’
Who would recognize Felicia—who was neither a noble nor a man—as a swordsman?
A talent that could turn the heavens upside down in the hands of a man was worth less than rotten fruit in the hands of a maid.
And so, she comforted herself by calling it a mere hobby.
She told herself there was nothing to feel wronged about since she did it because she enjoyed it.
“I do not know what my father saw, but to me, I see only a swordsman blessed by God. An unparalleled genius who possesses the potential to cleave the sky and split the sea, yet cannot even breathe freely, trapped by the shackles of status and gender.”
The dam she had forcibly built around her heart burst at those words.
Yes, it had all been a lie.
She didn't want to live and die as a maid; she wanted to be a knight.
She wanted to carve the name 'Felicia' into everyone’s minds by swinging her sword on the battlefield.
She wanted to let the world know that she was right here.
She had only given up because she believed it was all impossible.
“Right now, there will be many who, like my father, do not understand. They might mock me behind my back, calling me a fool. But that mockery will one day turn into praise. They will say that Lucian Valdek was the one who discovered the next Sword Saint, who was nearly buried in the shadows of history.”
The man before her was speaking of the dream she had abandoned.
He said she could leave a name for herself.
He even said she could aim for the seat of the next Sword Saint.
It sounded like a dream.
To be honest, she still couldn't fully believe it.
But regardless of Felicia’s belief, the man was sincere.
The tears that began to flow at the first taste of genuine faith would not stop.
‘If I could really become a knight...’
She had never once thought about choosing someone to serve.
How could she choose when she couldn't even become a knight in the first place?
But if, by some miracle—some absolute miracle—she could become a knight...
‘I want to swear my loyalty to this man.’
*
“Your words are as silver-tongued as ever.”
The Grand Duke cut off Lucian’s words with a cold expression.
As if to say that unless he could prove it himself, it was all worthless.
“I shall watch and see. I will see what kind of result your decision brings.”
Grand Duke Sigmund turned his back abruptly.
However, the moment the Grand Duke turned, Lucian saw it clearly.
The corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly.
‘He really isn't honest with himself.’
He could have just said that his third son had done something this good for them, but instead, he chose to strike them down with his own words so that Lucian could lift them back up.
It was the Grand Duke’s own way of directing the scene.
Your master recognizes the value in you that I do not. So, be grateful for the luck of meeting a good master and be loyal.
It was a roundabout way of doing things, but it wasn't bad.
Thanks to him, Lucian was able to reveal his sincerity to the others.
‘Thank you, Father.’
Lucian bowed his head slightly toward the Grand Duke’s back with genuine gratitude.
No matter how cold he pretended to be, Lucian could feel the consideration hidden beneath the surface.
“Ho ho, not only the Third Young Master, but Your Grace has come as well.”
Just then, Eisen’s voice drifted from inside the training grounds.
Even though they hadn't even turned the corner yet, he seemed to have sensed their presence.
“Is this not the matter of recommending a disciple to the Sword Saint himself? Even if I were not the head of the House of Valdek, as a knight, I could not suppress my curiosity.”
“A disciple. The Third Young Master did mention something of the sort.”
Eisen’s expression as he stroked his beard was peculiar.
He still seemed half-doubtful of Lucian’s words.
Lucian immediately presented Felicia to Eisen.
“Sir Eisen, I have come to keep my promise. This is the person I told you about.”
“Hmm.”
Eisen’s gaze swept over Felicia.
Under the Sword Saint’s scrutiny, Felicia offered a stiff, formal greeting.
“My name is Felicia. To the Sword Saint...”
“That’s enough.”
“Pardon?”
“I don't need your name. I’m not curious about it, either. Just come over here and grab a wooden sword.”
Eisen slammed a wooden sword into the floor of the training grounds and tilted his head.
After a moment’s hesitation, Felicia moved toward where the sword was planted.
He had driven it in so forcefully that the wooden sword was buried two spans deep into the stone floor.
As Felicia pulled the sword out with a grunt of effort, Eisen’s eyes narrowed.
“Where did you learn such crude mana manipulation?”
“P-pardon?”
“Your mana. You don't even have the basics down. Who was your master?”
At the sound of disappointment and rebuke, Felicia didn't know what to do.
But soon, unable to withstand his cold gaze, she stammered an answer.
“I... I don't have one.”
“What?”
“I have no master. I just... watched what others did and followed along...”
“You learned circulation and even mana manipulation on your own without anyone teaching you? Do you think that makes any sense?”
“What is... circulation?”
When Felicia asked back, the Sword Saint was momentarily speechless.
No, she knew how to manipulate mana but didn't know what circulation was?
“It refers to the process of spreading mana throughout your entire body and then reclaiming it.”
“I... I don't know much about that. I never saw anyone else do it.”
“Ha! This gets more absurd by the second. Then try and follow this as well!”
Eisen’s face contorted as he stood perfectly still.
The others tilted their heads, unable to understand the Sword Saint’s actions.
What was she supposed to follow when he wasn't doing anything?
But Felicia looked at Eisen for a moment and then answered awkwardly.
“Like... this?”
“...!”
Eisen’s eyes widened.
To others, nothing had changed, but there was clearly a communion between the two.
“Can you... follow this as well?”
A moment later, Eisen spoke in a trembling voice.
Again, no visible change occurred, but Felicia nodded.
“Is this what you did?”
“Ha, haha!”
Eisen let out a hollow laugh, and the look in his eyes changed.
If before he had been looking at a pebble on the side of the road, now he was looking at gold to measure its purity.
“Pick up your sword! Now!”
“Pardon? Kugh!”
Clang!
Startled by the sudden shout, Felicia reflexively raised her wooden sword.
It was because Eisen had suddenly lunged and swung his own.
As Felicia reacted just in time, Eisen unleashed a barrage of strikes.
Clack-clack-clack-clack!
The sound of wooden swords clashing rang out loudly.
Lucian and the other spectators watched the scene in a daze.
Whether he was matching her pace or not, the speed was average, but the sheer brilliance of his technique more than made up for it.
The neck and thighs, low at the legs and up to the groin, from the ankles to the pelvis.
These were strikes that even a seasoned knight might lose sight of in the blink of an eye.
Yet, Felicia was capturing and parrying every single one of them.
“Can you handle this too!?”
CRACK!
“Ugh!”
A groan escaped Felicia as she blocked Eisen’s attack.
The sheer force, reinforced by mana, seemed to have surpassed a level she could withstand.
Gritting her teeth, Felicia immediately changed her movements.
Crack! Screeeech!
“Ho!”
An exclamation escaped Grand Duke Sigmund’s lips as he watched.
She was extending her wooden sword further forward than the point of impact to minimize the shock, then letting the strike slide off the moment they met.
It was easy to say, but an incredibly difficult feat to execute while a wooden sword was flying at your face.
As Felicia instantly found a way to respond, Eisen’s swordplay changed once again.
Felicia was terrified by the dazzlingly fluid movements, but she somehow managed to keep up.
Three minutes passed like that.
“Haa... haa...!”
Dry, ragged breaths escaped Felicia’s lips.
Her body was trembling, perhaps because her muscles had already reached their limit.
Seeing Felicia still trying to respond to the next attack despite her state, Eisen stopped.
Eisen stood still until her breathing stabilized, then turned his gaze toward Grand Duke Sigmund.
“Your Grace, what did you see?”
“Why ask me? This is the place where the Sword Saint himself decides on a disciple.”
“I have already reached my conclusion. I am merely curious how it appeared to Your Grace’s eyes.”
“Hmm.”
The Grand Duke stroked his chin as if in thought for a moment before answering.
“I have only used it twice in actual combat.”
“Twice?”
“The technique that girl just used. Placing the sword ahead of where the opponent is aiming and letting it slide. Isn't the theory simple?”
Anyone swinging a sword naturally aims for the point where their strength is greatest.
The moment a sword is placed further forward than that, its power naturally diminishes.
It’s a simple principle that even someone who has only been in a few scuffles would know.
“But it is incredibly difficult to do in a real fight. If you fail to block, it’s like offering your body to the opponent’s blade. Even if you do block, one wrong move and your fingers are gone. I still have a scar on my finger from my second attempt.”
“A wooden sword isn't sharp like a real one, though.”
“Instead, wouldn't the finger bones be crushed? For someone like me, it might be fine, but for someone with no means or money for treatment, it’s a death sentence. They would have to give up the sword entirely.”
Yet Felicia had attempted it without hesitation and succeeded.
At the same time, she had come up with and executed similar methods every time the strikes changed.
Even if it was a spar, she was in a situation where a single failure to defend could result in a lifelong disability.
“On the battlefield, a decision made in less than a second determines whether you live or die. At the very least, she is more excellent than anyone in that regard. Perhaps not as a knight yet, but as a swordsman, her talent is immense.”
“You saw correctly. I, too, was impressed by that point.”
“Then now, Sir Eisen, you tell me. What did the Sword Saint see?”
At the Grand Duke’s question, Eisen’s gaze turned toward Felicia.
Felicia looked bewildered, as if she hadn't even realized she had been praised.
“I have one thing to ask you.”
“I... I am listening.”
“Can you see mana?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Felicia nodded and answered.
“If you mean that bluish energy used when swinging a sword... yes, I can see it.”
“Hahaha.”
A transcendent laugh escaped Eisen’s lips.
It was a laugh that seemed to cast off a grudge held for many long years.
After staring at the sky for a moment, Eisen eventually knelt before Lucian.
“Third Young Master, please forgive this old man for harboring even a moment of doubt.”