Stormy Adolescence
Elia had turned fifteen this year, and she found the world unbearably dull.
“……Everything’s so boring.”
There had been a time when every single sword technique she learned filled her with joy. When exactly had that changed? Was it after she’d mastered every form Kael had taught her? Or perhaps the moment she grasped the concept of mana from him? Maybe it was when she manifested her aura in just a month?
She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but she understood perfectly why swordsmanship now felt so meaningless.
“Sigh… I guess it can’t be helped when you’re as much of a genius as I am.”
After all, she was a genius. The kind that might appear once in a thousand—or even ten thousand—years. A supreme prodigy of the blade. That was Elia.
Anyone who heard her say it would probably dismiss it as the empty bragging of a child. Unfortunately for them, Elia had proven her claim just last year. Through an arranged sparring match with the Shardena Knight Order, facilitated by Zenle, she had secured an effortless victory.
A fourteen-year-old girl who could already match the skill of a full-fledged knight from the Shardena Order. The feat carried tremendous weight. To someone like Elia—an ultra-super-prodigy—the world could only ever feel tedious.
Still, even Elia had developed one recent worry: she was struggling to create her own original combat-oriented sword style.
“I thought I’d come up with it after trying a few times. Why isn’t it working…?”
From what she had learned from her father Kael and her former master Zenle, a combat-oriented sword style was something a warrior created by adapting basic forms and variations to fit their own personality and fighting approach.
Having already learned Kael’s combat style, Elia had immediately decided she didn’t want someone else’s technique. She wanted one she created herself.
Had Kael’s other disciples heard her, they would have shouted that she was being spoiled after receiving his personal instruction. But Elia had already made up her mind. Their complaints never reached her ears.
A style that belonged only to her, made only for her. How cool was that?
Unlike other sword techniques that came together after a few practice swings, creating her own combat style had already taken months, and she still couldn’t quite grasp it.
“I want it to look as cool as possible… Something that goes shing and then boom! Why can’t I make that?”
Of course, thanks to her ability to perceive the movement of human muscles, the flow of mana, and the seamless connection between forms, Elia knew every sequence she imagined was horribly inefficient. But wasn’t that part of what made it cool? She wanted to turn those flashy, inefficient movements into her very own combat style.
She had continued her research, but the results were, predictably, nonexistent. The last time Kael had secretly watched her training and pointed out that such movements weren’t suitable for a combat style, Elia had felt genuine anger flare up inside her.
“Dad only ever interferes… If he’s going to say something, he should at least teach me properly.”
Thinking back on it now, she felt a little guilty. She had mostly been embarrassed that he’d seen her acting so childishly. Still, from her perspective, it was frustrating that he would only criticize her without offering even a single piece of advice.
Kael claimed everything he did was for her sake, but if that were true, shouldn’t he be teaching her something?
“Haa… Life is so bitter.”
Frustrated with her current situation, Elia furrowed her brow exactly like Martin, the mercenary guild master she had once seen, and muttered those gloomy words. She would have loved to stick a cigarette between her lips for the full effect, but she knew that if Luina ever caught her, a few hours of scolding wouldn’t be the end of it. Instead, she popped the lollipop that had been lying nearby into her mouth.
“The candy’s all gone…”
As she savored the sweetness, a memory suddenly flashed through her mind—one of Zenle’s old comments. Elia stood up.
“Ah, that’s right…!”
It was something Zenle had mentioned while explaining combat sword styles.
“Master and all of Dad’s other disciples created their combat styles during the war, right?”
According to Zenle, the best way to achieve the realization needed to create a combat style was through grueling, real combat. If that was the case, then experiencing that kind of harsh fighting herself should allow her to create one too.
It was a simple, straightforward answer. Elia thought it was perfect. She hurriedly rummaged through the books piled on the corner of her desk and pulled out a sheet of letter paper.
“This is perfect timing. Both Mom, who nags me every day, and Dad, who only criticizes… If I run away this time, maybe things will improve a little?”
They probably never imagined she would actually run away. If she left a letter behind and disappeared, it would surely shake them up. Maybe they would even cry and apologize for being wrong.
With thoughts typical of a fifteen-year-old going through puberty, Elia began writing the letter. Once she finished, she placed it neatly on the desk and started packing her things in a hurry.
“Clothes first, then allowance money… I need my sword too, and…”
She packed the three days’ worth of clothes Luina had chosen for her, fastened the money pouch she had received from Kael and Luina to her waist, and took the real sword Kael had given her for her birthday last year.
Now that she thought about it, everything she was bringing had been given to her by her parents, but that fact didn’t register with the current Elia. The only thing that mattered was gathering what she needed to leave home immediately.
Once her bag was fully packed, Elia threw open the window to her room. Using the front door would mean getting caught by the maids or the butler right away.
With a loud creak—
“Alright, let’s go.”
The cool spring breeze, not yet overtaken by summer heat, brushed against her face. It felt like the sky itself was blessing her runaway. Elia stepped firmly onto the windowsill and leaped over the fence.
“Let’s go! To experience real combat!”
The harsh battlefield Zenle had spoken of. There was only one destination Elia had chosen to experience it.
“Just you wait, Delusion Forest!”
The Delusion Forest—one of the monster habitats closest to the kingdom. That was where Elia headed, her steps light with excitement.
“……What did you say?”
Kael had been happily returning from grocery shopping. That joy shattered the moment he stepped inside the house.
“The young miss… has run away from home.”
The head maid spoke hesitantly, carefully watching both Kael and Luina’s expressions. Behind her stood Sera, the maid who had first discovered Elia’s letter.
Thud. Roll…
The paper bag slipped from Luina’s hand. Lemons spilled across the floor.
Without needing to discuss it, Kael and Luina both sprinted up the stairs toward Elia’s room on the second floor.
Thump thump thump thump—!!
They arrived as if the stairs might break beneath them. Inside Elia’s room, they immediately spotted the letter on her desk—clearly left behind on purpose—and began reading it together.
I am running away from home.
I can no longer remain in this house that offers me no help whatsoever. I have decided to leave in order to create my own original combat sword style. I will not return until it is complete, so please do not come looking for me.
Finally, I am now capable of taking care of my own life. I ask that you refrain from any further unnecessary interference.
Your daughter, Elia.
The letter was strangely polite despite its rebellious tone. But the fact that Elia had run away remained unchanged. Luina staggered where she stood. Kael felt his head go blank.
Had he been too lenient with her? Or had he done something wrong without realizing it? Whatever the cause, the thought that this was his fault refused to leave his mind.
Still, Kael forced his swirling thoughts to calm. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He couldn’t afford to panic—not when Luina was already this upset.
“K-Kael… W-what should we do? What if something happens to Elia while she’s out there…?”
Luina’s eyes were already glistening with tears, her body trembling with worry. Kael pulled her into his arms and held her gently until she calmed.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her. Just trust me.”
“How…?”
“I have a disciple who’s very useful in situations like this. She’s in the kingdom right now.”
While soothing Luina, Kael pulled out his communication crystal from his belt. Elia had asked them not to look for her, but there was no way he could honor that request. Even if it meant she would hate him for it, he had to find her.
He poured mana into the crystal and spoke the name of the disciple currently staying in the kingdom.
“Asili Martina.”
The legendary phantom thief and assassin known across the continent. A mythical figure in the underworld whose skills made every other assassin seem like nothing in comparison. At the same time, she was the disciple currently enjoying her vacation in the kingdom.
Kael called her name so he could entrust her with tracking down his daughter.