Beyond the Wall of Talent
Cletta Peliche arrived at the restaurant and dug into her food with gusto, a happy smile lighting up her face as she murmured how delicious it was. Ashytara Solenute watched her with a smile of her own. A perfectly harmless smile—one so radiant it could leave most people spellbound.
That flawless performance hit the other students like a shockwave.
"Isn't that Cletta? What happened a while back..."
"Yeah, her? But why's she with Ashytara?"
"No idea. What's going on? How'd they even get close?"
"They look pretty friendly."
"Yeah, they do."
Whispers like these swirled around the pair. Ashytara took it all in, feeling a quiet satisfaction that things were unfolding exactly as she'd planned.
"All done? If you're finished, shall we head to the training ground?"
"Yeah! Let's go!"
As the two entered the training ground, every eye turned their way. Ashytara couldn't have been more pleased. The stage she'd wanted was finally set.
"Why don't you start by showing me some Imperial swordsmanship?"
Ashytara prompted Cletta to demonstrate. Cletta listened, then took her stance right there and launched into the forms with spirited energy.
She clearly had the will to grow and a burning ambition. But ambition alone didn't make it happen.
Ashytara watched Cletta's Imperial swordsmanship and pressed a hand to her forehead. The energy was there, sure. But that was it. Poor power distribution, shaky grasp of basic movements—it was a total disaster. How had she even gotten into Solemnute Adem? Sure, there was no entrance exam, but they must check some baseline during admissions. Were they short on students or something?
Ashytara felt lost, unsure where even to begin fixing it.
"How was it?"
And yet, with that innocently bright expression? Ashytara couldn't bring herself to frown. She forced an awkward smile and approached Cletta, debating whether to be honest or sugarcoat it. But she didn't deliberate long.
"Mind if I'm straight with you?"
"Yeah. Tell me honestly."
Cletta's firm resolve settled it. Ashytara laid out exactly what she'd observed.
"The energy's good, but..."
"But?"
"Everything else is a mess."
"...Huh?"
"I know it sounds harsh, but it's true. From stance to channeling power into the blade, body movement—it's all so sloppy."
Cletta's spirited face wilted in an instant.
"Yeah... I figured."
Resignation shadowed her features. That dark expression Ashytara had glimpsed earlier that day probably stemmed from this, not Ludenberg Lavante. The bitter reality of her own talent. She tried, kept trying, but it never worked out. Even in the lowly Abyss ranks, she felt utterly inadequate.
Ashytara racked her brain for the right words to comfort her. If Cletta gave up now, her whole plan would crumble.
"It's okay."
"What is?"
"You'll get good at it."
"Don't worry about it. I already know I'm hopeless."
Ashytara shook her head. Amid all her scheming fragments, this much was genuine. Even she had felt her talent was worthless at times, tempted to quit everything.
"I'm not just saying that. I've been there. Cletta, have you ever seen talent so far beyond you right in front of your eyes?"
Cletta pondered. Talent she couldn't catch? To her, everyone had it. Even Ashytara, standing there now. She couldn't imagine twice the time would let her catch up. Swinging the sword brought joy, but she knew her talent was dismal. What others grasped in one go took her ten tries. Still, she couldn't let go, so she dreamed of knighthood. But talent's wall loomed too high. Even among fellow Abyss students, the gaps stung.
"Everyone feels more talented than me."
"Guess that includes me, then."
"Honestly? Yeah."
Cletta nodded, her face clouded. Some things just wouldn't work, no matter what. That's all she thought.
"I've seen talent I couldn't touch. For a long time."
"What...?"
Cletta looked incredulous. From skill checks to field training, Ashytara shone among the elite. But one name from her lips made it click.
"Ludenberg."
"Ah."
Ludenberg Lavante. The overwhelming sword genius. Some dismissed him for lacking divine power, claiming no future in it, but most Knight Faculty students knew: in pure physical prowess and swordsmanship, no one in Solemnute Adem could surpass him. Even some upperclassmen might fall short. In just days—mere days—most first-years had realized it. Especially that day he parried Gawin Greta's divinely empowered strike with a blunt training sword, no power of his own.
Students who cursed him as cursed or feared him had to admit: he was beyond common sense.
Cletta felt that wall anew. Even ten times the time wouldn't reach him. It only brought despair.
"If I said I understand your feelings, it'd sound like a lie. But I've had similar experiences, at least. Cletta."
"...Yeah."
How had Ashytara not quit, facing that wall up close? Rumor had it they'd known each other since age eight.
"How'd you keep going?"
"I tried to quit at first. Training under Duke Leonard Lavante with Ludenberg, I kept thinking I couldn't do it."
As their conversation deepened, the attention already on them intensified. Ashytara realized: the stage she'd craved had finally risen.
"Then why'd you stick with it?"
"Because Ludenberg pulled a pathetic me along."
She cast her eyes slightly downward with a wistful expression, transforming into the star of her own play. The gazes around them sharpened, and Ashytara spoke.
"Cletta, when I first picked up a sword, I was hopeless. Couldn't even hold it right, swings all clumsy."
"You?"
"Yep. Nobody's great at everything from the start. Obvious, I know."
Cletta stared, her face saying, But you must've been perfect from day one.
"Really? Hard to picture..."
"No, for real. Even with Duke Leonard guiding me, the basics overwhelmed me. I'd never touched a sword before. He shows me Imperial swordsmanship once and says 'do it'—I couldn't manage a thing."
Ashytara gazed distantly, her slightly low voice—unlike most girls her age—drawing people in without even trying to persuade. Cletta found herself hooked.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, totally. I'd swing and fall dozens of times. But I thrashed around, refusing to quit. Right before starting with Duke Leonard, I'd vowed never to give up midway."
"Why make that vow?"
"I'd always quit easy before. Convinced I sucked at everything. So this time, I swore I wouldn't and kept swinging. But no progress. Always stuck in place."
"Like... me now?"
"Worse than you. Imperial swordsmanship? Mine wasn't even swordplay. Couldn't master basic swings. That vow turned to self-doubt; soon I didn't even want to hold the sword."
"Ah..."
Ashytara's vague talk of her own near-quit felt so like Cletta's own, stirring pity. Yet Cletta oddly fixated on every word.
What's this?
But she wasn't alone. Other students listening were equally entranced, swayed by her every phrase.
"My passion faded, that vow chaining me so I couldn't drop it easily. Ridiculous, right?"
Ashytara let out a hollow chuckle. Cletta had no words. She could tell Ashytara had felt this exact frustration back then.
"Meanwhile, Ludenberg raced ahead. At nine, he'd mastered Imperial swordsmanship to perfection. After just one year with a sword."
"What? No way. You're kidding."
Cletta laughed in disbelief.
"I know, insane. But seeing it up close? I was floored."
"Whoa..."
"I admired him and hated myself. Why can't I do this? Why not better? That anger became inferiority... and I ditched the sword, holing up in my room."
"What happened next?"
"What do you think? Ludenberg burst in and dragged me out."
"He what!?"
"If it weren't Lavante Duchy, he'd have gotten in trouble. Anyway, as I resisted, he said: 'Why talk quit so soon? Is that all you've got?'"
"Wait, how old was he then?"
Cletta gaped at Ashytara.
Ashytara paused thoughtfully.
"Probably nine?"
"Nine!? A nine-year-old saying that?"
"He was super mature back then, yeah. Anyway, that sparked my inferiority complex—it boiled over ugly."
"What'd you say?"
Cletta's eyes sparkled. Ashytara thought: Perfect. Hooking her worked. This innocently naive girl would flip her view of Ludenberg instantly. She'd been riveted moments ago.
"Wanna know? It's kinda embarrassing to share... Wait, why the puppy eyes? Fine, since I started."
"Tell me, tell me!"
Ashytara's face shifted in a flash. Cletta's heart skipped.
"Leave me alone! I'm no genius like you—I can't match your pace! So forget training together. I don't want to anymore. You make me feel so pathetic!" Exactly like that.
"Whoa... wow."
Even softening her fierce expression at the end left Cletta frozen, face rigid. Ashytara's intimidation—not quite Ludenberg's level, but no joke—overwhelmed. The words were childish whining, but the raw anger and despair she exuded felt vividly real, dominating everyone nearby, Cletta included.
"Oh, sorry. Scared you... Anyway, Ludenberg grabbed both my hands and said:
"Er, yeah. Can't imagine that from a nine-year-old..."
"Haha, I couldn't believe it either. Is this kid really my age? Shocked me. But it didn't end there. Still holding my hands, he continued:
He let go, stared straight into my eyes, and said:
"I asked why. He replied:
"Then, finally:
"Wow... I can't even believe it hearing it now."
Cletta stuck out her tongue in awe. Ludenberg's precocity back then was unreal. Ashytara recalled her own antics at that age.
Probably begging Mom for storytime.
As she drifted briefly, Ashytara continued.
"I was speechless. Embarrassed. That night, I realized why he pulled so far ahead."
"Why?"
"Empty night training ground. There he was, swinging a heavy sword relentlessly. Beyond our sessions, he trained alone at night. I was stunned silent."
"..."
Cletta had no words either. At that age, unmatched among peers, yet no complacency—just self-cultivation. Possible?
"Everyone calls him genius, and he has the gifts, but Ludenberg worked harder than anyone. Results followed naturally. After that, I stopped whining."
The crowd hushed. Ashytara smiled wistfully, a touch sheepish.
"Anyway, it's a dull tale—ordinary to others. But thanks to Ludenberg, I made it here."
Ashytara beamed. An enchanting smile no one could resist.