Master and Disciple
Master and Disciple
Lately, the Itisel Royal Academy had been bustling with noise for all sorts of reasons.
Some students had vanished without a trace, as if proving that the rumors of a gathering of traitors were true, and that contributed heavily to the atmosphere. But the main cause was the countless rumors swirling around the person who had single-handedly taken down the traitor Envelde.
To an outsider, this scene might have seemed somewhat unexpected, maybe even a chance to glimpse the humanity in those considered the kingdom's elite. Though these students were gathered here in line with the academy's purpose of nurturing the talents who would lead the future, most of them were still under twenty, so it could be seen as natural for their ears to prick up at such a sensational issue.
But the students being swept up by rumors was a little different from the usual reasons. They possessed far more detailed information than what was circulating among the public, and that included who the Guillotine of Levien was, how old he was, and what he had been doing recently.
Had Eldmia seen it himself, his first suspicion would have been that Zikmel had sold his information. But ultimately, it was the result of a sad truth: the agents of the Royal Intelligence Department were also people, someone's parents, and inevitably weak when it came to their children. They, of course, had their heads screwed on straight and didn't leak matters considered confidential... but when it came to Eldmia, there was far more information that wasn't confidential than was.
There was far more information about Eldmia that wasn't classified than information that was. And that was deeply regrettable for Sheryl Tusin Ogatorf as well.
Because it hadn't taken the students very long to figure out where he was from, who he'd come to the capital with, and where he'd been staying ever since.
"Um, Lady Ogatorf? If you don't mind, could you spare a moment? I was hoping to talk about a man named Eldmia."
"Sheryl? Is it true that Eldmia is over two meters tall and carries around a greatsword as big as he is?"
"Ogatorf! Could I possibly have a sparring match with Sir Eldmia?!"
Because of this, Sheryl's academy life, which should have been utterly peaceful until winter break, was pushed into a situation no different from a daily battlefield.
At least the large man who had rushed over with anticipation of a spar in his eyes was cute enough to be bearable. The ones who had been approaching her recently, trying to make some kind of connection by any means, were mostly those thirsting for gossip or harboring ulterior motives to capture Eldmia, who had stepped out from the Ogatorf family, in some form or another.
Why was it that they showed no interest in why a man with such well-known abilities had deliberately left the Ogatovs in the first place? There wasn't even a rumor that her father treated people harshly, so just how did they plan to capture someone the Ogatorf family itself couldn't hold onto? Seduction? I couldn't even...
Unconsciously reining in her runaway thoughts, Sheryl focused on the large man. Despite his naive, academically passionate impression, the man was an outstanding figure ranked third in the swordsmanship department in practical skill.
The problem was that since he was so massive you might think the rumor of Eldmia swinging a sword the size of himself was born from someone mistaking this man for him, that naive impression was completely ruined. Others felt intimidated just standing next to him, but Sheryl faced him as calmly as she always did.
Because she was ranked first in the swordsmanship department in practical skill.
"Cut the crap and beat me first."
Still, he was a million times better than those who only approached to spout worthless nonsense and weren't even competition. So when she gave him a special answer, the man, ill-fitting his bulk, mumbled and squirmed disgustingly. Because of that, Sheryl felt a strong sense of revulsion without even having a moment to realize what she'd been thinking about her fellow female students who harbored dark intentions.
"Ah, no. Still, you have to learn from a variety of people..."
How frustrating it was that the eldest son of the Bellungd family, who was widely rumored to be no less skilled than her in swordsmanship—and it wasn't exactly wrong—was so different when he held a sword and when he didn't. Still, his argument itself wasn't particularly flawed, so Sheryl shook her head and gave a definite answer.
"I learned from Eldmia."
"Huh?"
"I said I learned from Eldmia. If you can't even beat me, then you've got nothing to learn from Eldmia."
"Huh? That's not right. They say it's only been a bit over two years since Sir Eldmia joined your family's household. I've heard that much, you know."
Kallitz da Bellungd, the eldest son of Viscount Bellungd, puffed out his chest confidently, smiling as if to say 'Didn't know that, did you?' Sheryl, thinking he clearly lacked the wit to gather such information himself and that his so-called followers must have fetched and fed it to him, countered without hiding her pitying gaze.
"Are you saying that since you've only been in the academy for a little over two years, you don't consider the professors your teachers?"
"...Huh?"
Kalits's reaction, as if his thoughts had momentarily frozen, made him seem just like a dumb bear. Well, bears were originally clever animals, but... what could you do? He fit the idiom all too perfectly. At this point, it was at the level where the bear was Kalits and Kalits was the bear.
"No? No matter what, that's too much. You live in the dorm, don't you?"
"So?"
"So at best, the only times you crossed swords with Sir Eldmia were for a brief period before enrollment and during vacations."
"And?"
"Well... even so, saying you learned from him is a bit... uh, I think it's a bit of a misnomer..."
He'd racked his brain, but he was still a bear in the end, so Sheryl's gaze didn't change.
"I took the swordsmanship I learned and honed at the academy and faced him all through every vacation, yet I never won even once. Instead, I received corrections every time. Isn't that more than enough to be called teaching?"
"...F-for real?"
"The Ogatovs are not so shallow as to speak falsehoods over such trivial matters."
In the end, Kalits couldn't find a breakthrough and had to turn his steps away, crestfallen. As she quietly watched his retreating figure, his followers came out from somewhere and began to comfort him. The sight of over a dozen men, who fit the term 'muscle pigs,' embracing each other was deeply unpleasant, so Sheryl let out a sigh and turned her head.
Turning her head like that, she found a man who had definitely not been there moments ago looking down at her, and she almost threw a punch. The man, as if having seen Sheryl's shoulders flinch, reflexively flinched himself before soon flashing a sheepish grin and asking a question.
"For real?"
Should she say he looked sharp, or should she say he looked sly? When the narrow-eyed man with long hair—a rare sight in the swordsmanship department—tied loosely and draped to the side asked his question, Sheryl, instead of answering right away, wrinkled her nose in displeasure.
"And just how long have you been there?"
"Since you and Kalits started talking. More importantly, for real? That you never beat him even once?"
"Haah... Why do you all, every single one of you, think I would lie about such a thing?"
"It's not that I think you'd lie, it's that I absolutely can't believe it. Who's going to believe that a commoner who's only been in the capital for two years has become more outstanding in swordsmanship than the secret weapon of the Ogatorf family?"
Should I hit him?
It would have been better if I had just pretended to be startled and hit him once from the start, but that was a belated regret. Having no intention of delaying her steps any further, Sheryl answered as she brushed past the man.
"It's not two years. Eldmia has been swinging a sword since he was eight."
"Eyy, what meaning does that have? By that logic, I first swung a sword when I was ten."
And yet you're losing to me, who started at eleven.
Griwills, who was ranked second in swordsmanship practical skill, suppressed his dissatisfaction and last words tightly beneath a thin smile, matching Sheryl's pace. Just the sight of the handsome man and beautiful woman who could be called the top students of their year walking together drew the gazes of those around them and made Sheryl's irritation index soar, but Griwills continued without a care.
"I, unlike you perhaps, know just how meaningless it is to have grasped a sword early. Eight years old? What could a kid possibly know or understand about a sword while swinging it around?"
"Just as there are things I don't know and you do, there are also things neither of us knows."
"...You mean things like a kid who understands and swings a sword from the age of eight?"
"You're doing your rank justice for second place. You're smarter than Kalits."
It was both a fact and a statement that could be taken as a clear provocation, but Sheryl didn't care. She wasn't so dull as not to recognize that what lay beneath Griwills's smiling face was hostility toward her.
She had no intention of responding to hostility with goodwill, and Griwills knew that well too.
"Hmm, how nice it must be to know so much, befitting first place. So, would you mind telling your lacking second place where you're going in such a hurry?"
"It's none of your business."
"I'll find out anyway if I just trot along behind you, so couldn't you just tell me? It's good for both of us, right?"
Should I really hit him?
She felt an intense urge, but Sheryl held back for now. Griwills might have been a bit lacking in swordsmanship, but he was good at playing with rumors. If Sheryl, who was walking while maintaining a cold demeanor under all these focused gazes, were to hit Griwills now, there were plenty of female students who would link it to some absurd love quarrel.
"I'm going to see the newly appointed magic studies professor."
"Sir Regneva, the former court mage? You don't even learn magic."
Sheryl didn't answer. No one yet knew that Eldmia was going to form a master-disciple relationship with Regneva. She wanted to ask whether Eldmia would be attending the academy too, so she gave up on waiting for an answer from Griwills, left him standing there, and hurried her steps as much as possible.