Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: The One Who Bestowed Teachings (4)
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“Yes. And not only that—he was also one-eyed.”
Azel’s second teacher was a one-eyed, one-armed swordsman missing his right eye and right arm.
The name he hadn’t told Arietta was Barf. At the time, it was one of the most well-known names among the mercenaries in the eastern continent.
By all common sense, someone with such physical handicaps couldn’t thrive on the battlefield. No mercenary company would hire him, so retirement would be the only option.
But Barf wasn’t scorned by anyone.
“He was a Sextuple Master (six Life Circles).”
“A Sextuple Master? A mere mercenary reached that realm?”
A Sextuple Master was a level so rare that you’d be hard-pressed to find even a handful in the entire Rurein Kingdom. And such a person had been a mere mercenary?
Azel said,
“Before losing his eye and arm, he wasn’t even a Master. While bedridden, he rigorously honed his mind and, refusing to yield to his disabilities, reached that height through relentless effort.”
The reason Barf took an interest in Azel was during a desperate trap.
The demonic beasts commanded by the Dragon Demon Hybrids loved ambushing humans under cover of night. Being inherently nocturnal, their night vision far surpassed that of humans.
Of course, humans knew this and kept strict night watches. But the unit Azel and Barf belonged to had its chain of command shattered by the Dragon Demon Hybrids’ schemes and was fleeing in defeat.
Just as the routed soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they’d escaped the enemy pursuit, the night raid began.
Chaos and terror spread like wildfire, and their allies collapsed without mounting any proper resistance. A few fought valiantly amid the fray, but they couldn’t turn the tide.
Rather than trying to change the battle’s course, Azel chose the path of survival. As he cut down enemies one by one in the confusion to find a way out, Barf ended up at his back before he knew it.
Barf took note that Azel wasn’t a Spirit Order practitioner. Yet in that situation, he hadn’t panicked and had used his remarkably developed senses to grasp his surroundings clearly and seek an escape.
‘Kid, how about becoming my disciple?’
Once they barely broke through the enemy encirclement, Barf made that offer. Azel had no reason to refuse.
Looking back, even that opportunity was thanks to his first teacher, Logan.
Azel suspected Logan had been a noble in disguise. The swordsmanship he taught was systematic, and though Azel hadn’t realized it at the time, he’d also laid the foundations for mastering Spirit Order. His superior senses were thanks to that.
“My second teacher obsessed over developing the senses to their utmost limits.”
Spirit Order practitioners take mental and sensory training for granted. But Barf emphasized it to a pathological degree in teaching Azel.
“The classic was dodging attacks in total darkness. Later, we’d spar in pitch black while blades dangled from the ceiling, swaying.”
“Harsh training, but I suspect you handled it with ease.”
“Honestly, yes. Up to that point, it wasn’t too hard.”
Azel admitted frankly. Even reflecting on it now, he’d clearly been a gifted student, solving every challenge his teacher threw at him effortlessly.
But Barf wasn’t satisfied with that. He forbade using Spirit Order’s secret arts to pierce the darkness with covered eyes, and later plugged Azel’s ears to seal his hearing as well.
“We also trained responses with limbs bound.”
Sometimes with one arm tied.
Sometimes with legs bound, defending from a seated position against attacks raining from all sides.
Other times with both arms restrained behind his back, or even hanging upside down.
“The goal was senses that never lost balance in any situation.”
Barf’s training was so brutal that Azel faced death multiple times while learning. Even Barf, a powerful Spirit Order practitioner, couldn’t fully control some of those perilous sessions.
“That’s… less training and more abuse, isn’t it?”
“I won’t deny it. Back then, I thought it was insane—that my teacher had gone mad and was trying to kill me.”
“What happened to him?”
“He passed away. He was ill.”
That was why Barf had taken Azel as a disciple. He wanted to pass on the skills he’d gained overcoming his disabilities before death claimed him.
But once he did, Azel’s talent astonished him, sparking greed. He didn’t just want to transmit his techniques—he wanted Azel to reach an ideal realm beyond his own.
The encroaching shadow of death drove him to madness. Losing his reason, he pushed Azel to extremes, forcing him through near-death ordeals repeatedly. Most of Barf’s mercenary earnings went to treating Azel’s injuries.
“I trained under him for two years.”
By Barf’s funeral, seventeen-year-old Azel was already a Quadruple Master. And in sensory acuity, he’d surpassed the living Barf, approaching the ideal he’d dreamed of.
‘I wonder if his grave still stands.’
After the Dragon Emperor War ended, Azel had relocated Barf’s tomb to the Karzark Marquisate. Was it still there?
Azel, lost in those thoughts, turned to Arietta and asked,
“And you, Princess?”
“Hm? Skipping your third teacher to ask about me?”
“My story’s gone on long enough already, hasn’t it? Save it for next time, and tell me about receiving teachings from the Dragon Sword Duke.”
“Prattling on about a lady’s past—how rude. Not very knightly.”
Arietta tossed out that jest before sharing her own tale.
6
“Well… to borrow those around me, he was a madman.”
“…Pardon?”
Madman—meaning a lunatic.
To call a man hailed as a legend by the kingdom and teacher to the Dragon Princess that way? As Azel gaped in disbelief, Arietta laughed.
“When first summoned as my teacher, he came to the palace and sought His Majesty’s permission.”
“For what?”
“To allow no outside interference while teaching me and to not treat me as royalty. He said he wouldn’t take the role otherwise.”
Teaching royalty is an honor in itself. But because they’re royal, you can’t handle them freely and must tread carefully.
That’s why the Dragon Sword Duke had refused to teach royalty. He declared he couldn’t stomach pandering to a disciple’s whims.
Despite knowing his temperament well, they’d summoned him specifically as teacher to Arietta and Seiga because…
“Ah, Seiga’s my younger brother.”
“I’ve heard.”
Dragon Demon Prince Seiga Bail Lurein was Arietta’s brother, two years her junior, who’d just held his coming-of-age ceremony and entered combat this year.
“Anyway, the reason we insisted on Duke Tarantos as our teacher was that he’s related to our mother.”
Arietta and Seiga’s mother was from a collateral line of the Tarantos Ducal House. That connection prompted their earnest request.
‘These children must go out into the world and fight. They need a teacher to forge them stronger than any other.’
That was the Dragon Demon Queen’s argument.
Only one Dragon Princess and one Dragon Demon Prince exist per generation, and sometimes only one of them. Thrust into battle right after their coming-of-age, their fates are harsh. They must fight to uphold the royal honor until the throne passes to the next generation and a new Dragon Demon Queen weds the king to bear children.
Naturally, the royals choose battlefields carefully for them. Yet unforeseen situations arise often in combat, and with their immense power, reliance on them is inevitable—many die fulfilling their duty.
Knowing this, the Dragon Demon Queen wanted her children armed with strength to face their destiny.
“The palace accepted his terms, so from age eight, I received his guidance.”
“Was your brother with you?”
“No, he said from the start he couldn’t handle two, and told Seiga to come at the same age as me. So for two years, it was just me.”
And so Arietta was dragged from the palace to train at the Dragon Sword Duke’s villa for two years.
“Sir Azel, your teachers were eccentric, but he was no less so. For instance, half a year in, he handed me just a dagger and forced me to survive alone deep in the mountains for a month.”
“Half a year in… so still eight years old?”
“Exactly.”
“Doing that to an eight-year-old girl…”
“And it was a winter mountain. I truly thought I’d die.”
Arietta gave a wry smile.
Though just an eight-year-old girl, she was a Dragon Demon Hybrid. Under the Dragon Sword Duke’s guidance, she already surpassed adult men in physical prowess and had mastered the basics of Dragon Spirit Art.
Even so, surviving in a winter mountain with only a dagger was a brutal trial. She’d unwittingly started fires that drew demonic beasts, chased prey into danger zones—death loomed more than once…
Looking back, the peril she felt then outstripped even her post-coming-of-age battles. She’d been weak and immature in every way.
“There were plenty of other unforgettable experiences. Like being dumped in the middle of a city crawling with criminals, ordered to return to the villa without ever revealing who I was…”
She underwent much training unrelated to martial arts or Dragon Spirit Art. Back then, she’d wondered what the point was, but now she knew its value.
Azel marveled.
‘No wonder. Now I understand why this princess has such a personality.’
To Azel, Arietta was oddly un-princess-like. Royals who venture out and witness the lives of commoners naturally gain a sense of reality. But even accounting for that, Arietta lacked the flaws typical of her station.
‘It was thanks to her teacher.’
Having such a wildly free-spirited, rough mentor had given her a worldview unlike other royals. She treated even lowborn as people and judged ability fairly.
Azel said,
“I’d love to meet him someday.”
“Would you?”
“Pardon?”
“If we return to the palace, I could arrange it. He’d surely find you intriguing.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind.”
“And…”
Arietta hesitated, then said,
“From now on, when you have time, could I spar with you too?”
“Spar? What do you mean?”
“Sparring.”
“Hm. No issue for me, but Miss Enora might get angry.”
“That’s why I’ve held back till now, but seeing you spar with Sir Zail daily has me itching.”
Though seventeen and a girl, Arietta was a warrior rigorously trained since childhood. On this journey, propriety had kept her from wielding a sword properly, relegated to the role of superior—naturally, she was restless.
Azel said,
“Miss Enora won’t stay quiet.”
“I’ll order her to watch obediently.”
“Abuse of power.”
“Isn’t that what power’s for?”
“And your frustration at being powerless against superiors turns on me…”
“Endure it. Subordinates are shields for superiors in such times, or so they say.”
“…Wow, that’s too much.”
As Azel bantered, Arietta laughed.
The night deepened.