The Wrong Sword
That afternoon, after all classes had ended, Ludenberg felt the strange gazes of students lingering on him even as he headed back to the dormitory. Just as he was wondering what nonsense Eden Asta and Mion Altis must have been spreading around to cause these odd looks all day long, an unwelcome guest approached him.
Cletta Peliche, with her light purple hair, appeared before him once more.
She greeted him with a bright, lively face.
"Hey!"
At that moment, the air around them froze. The students who had been eyeing Ludenberg strangely now stared at Cletta as if she were mad.
Ludenberg's reaction was no different. Gazing at her greeting him without the slightest hesitation, he concluded that the girl had lost her mind.
He certainly knew who Cletta was—the girl who had approached him when he was on edge from Raha's trivial test and ended up regretting it after his somewhat aggressive response.
"What is it?"
"I wanted to say thanks."
"...What?"
Ludenberg made a thoroughly baffled expression. What on earth could she have to thank him for? Thanking someone who had cursed at her and dismissed her sincerity—it made no sense to him.
"Thanks?"
Watching his reaction, Cletta recalled what Ashytara Solenute had whispered to her last time.
'Cletta, if you tell Ludenberg thanks, he'll ask what you mean. Just play dumb and move on. He's embarrassed, that's all.'
Seeing Ludenberg's sharp demeanor from before completely gone, replaced by a dumbfounded look, Cletta thought Ashytara was right.
'He looks so flustered—Ashytara was spot on.'
If Ludenberg knew the misunderstanding she was having, he'd be horrified. But Cletta, beaming with a bright smile, began spilling everything that had happened with Ashytara.
"Last time, you told me to get lost, right? After that, Ashytara suddenly came to me and said you'd sent her..."
And innocently, she repeated verbatim what Ashytara had told her—even the stories about their shared past.
"Ah."
In that instant, Ludenberg realized the source of all those subtle gazes he'd felt that day, and he saw through Ashytara's intentions.
'Not Eden and Mion... Ashytara. What the hell is she playing at?'
"...Ha."
He let out a hollow laugh.
Ludenberg understood exactly what Ashytara was trying to do. But he couldn't fathom why she'd go this far. Her method relied entirely on the assumption that he'd definitely apologize to Cletta—otherwise, it was doomed to fail.
What if Ludenberg told Cletta he never said any such thing and to stop talking nonsense? Then Ashytara would have deceived her.
Members of the imperial family had to be flawless. That was the common perception among all citizens of the Solemnute Empire, and the image the Solenute imperial family desperately upheld. Spreading lies tarnished that prestige, so they were trained never to utter even the smallest falsehood.
If Ashytara went around lying, it would deal her a significant blow. So why had she chosen this risky approach to change how people saw him?
'Ashytara. Why are you going this far for me? Even after I pushed you away like that... Could it be because of that slight opening I gave her last time?'
Ludenberg couldn't comprehend the trust and goodwill Ashytara directed at him. If he had to guess, maybe it stemmed from when he'd shown her a bit of leeway while half out of his mind from Raha's test. Or perhaps from the memories they'd built up, the ones he'd desperately tried to abandon. Or worse, she might be using him—after all, he'd encountered countless people who baited with false trust. The Lavante name was valuable enough for a princess to take such risks.
Of course, it could be genuine sincerity, but he couldn't discern that now. He didn't possess Solem's Eye to read true hearts.
'I can't figure out Ashytara's intentions right now. But if she's using Cletta somehow, her actions will ripple through my surroundings—and that will reveal her goal. So I have no choice but to play along.'
He could confront Ashytara directly, but that would backfire. She was skilled at hiding her feelings and would likely dodge with vague responses. He knew she wasn't just some innocent girl—she was clever. So he'd have to read her intentions through Cletta, the pawn she was using.
And how to play along? Simple: make Ashytara's words to Cletta reality. Apologize to her and give her some sword instruction. It wasn't hard.
While Ludenberg was lost in thought, Cletta looked at him cautiously and spoke up.
"So, thanks for going out of your way to apologize through Ashytara. But..."
"But?"
"If you're going to apologize like that, wouldn't it be better to do it directly instead of through someone else?"
"...Yeah. You're right."
In truth, none of Ashytara's actions had been at his behest—she'd done it on her own. Still, Ludenberg nodded, to uncover why she was doing this for him.
"Huh?"
"Sorry about that time. I was in bad shape and ended up taking it out on you without thinking."
Cletta blinked in confusion at his straightforward nod, and to her, Ludenberg bowed his head in apology.
"...Wh-what?!"
She hadn't expected an apology right to her face and jumped in surprise.
"So, like I told Ashytara, how about I grant that request you made last time?"
"My request? You mean... sword lessons?"
"Yeah."
"Of course! When can we start?"
Cletta flashed a radiant smile.
"Right now."
"Okay!"
Ludenberg tossed out the words and headed to the training grounds, with Cletta hurrying after him.
* * *
The sudden commotion drew students to the training grounds in droves. Not only had that Ludenberg apologized to Cletta, but he'd agreed to give her sword lessons—it felt like the heavens had shifted for them.
And among the crowd was Ashytara, the architect of this situation. She'd been anxious whether Ludenberg would go along with it, but seeing him apologize to Cletta, she sighed in relief and followed to the grounds.
Ludenberg glanced briefly at Ashytara before turning back to focus on Cletta.
"Pick up a sword."
"Got it."
Cletta lifted a fairly heavy two-handed sword.
"First, show me the imperial swordsmanship."
Cletta gripped the sword firmly with both hands and demonstrated the imperial forms. She knew it was poor, but she gave it her all.
Ludenberg watched and gave the same assessment Ashytara had yesterday.
"It's terrible."
But unlike yesterday, Cletta didn't slump in despair. She just met his eyes steadily.
"Yeah, I know. Ashytara said the same."
"...Reset your stance. Every single swing needs a complete overhaul."
Cletta hesitantly raised her sword, and Ludenberg began correcting her posture step by step.
But despite his efforts, her stance kept destabilizing.
'What's the problem?'
If she'd been training as a knight, she'd have swung that sword endlessly. Persistent instability meant a fundamental issue.
Watching her closely, Ludenberg realized something.
'Her build is too small.'
Cletta's frame was quite petite—more like a 15-year-old than 17. The moment he noticed, the cause clicked.
'That's why her swings keep veering off with such a heavy sword.'
"Hold on."
"Yeah? What?"
"Isn't that heavy?"
"A bit? But with divine power, it's no problem."
"...Ha."
He was speechless. "No problem with divine power" meant it was a strain without it.
How could her family knight not mention this after years of training, ignoring her physique?
"Why do you ask?"
"Are you an idiot?"
"What?"
"Picking a weapon without considering your build and using it for years?"
"Uh... Our family only has a few knights. I learned from the best one among them. He said erosion beasts have tough hides, so heavier weapons are better..."
"Without considering your weak strength?"
"He said since I awakened Terra's divine power, I could compensate for that."
Hearing her story, Ludenberg felt a headache coming on.
"Go get a one-handed sword from the rack. Now."
"What?"
"Hurry!"
"O-okay!"
At his sharp command, Cletta quickly fetched a suitable one-handed sword.
"Show me the imperial forms again."
Despite switching from her main weapon of years, she followed without complaint—and was stunned.
Her shaky, directionless swordplay unfolded cleanly.
"Huh...?"
Without Terra's divine power, the flaws she'd always felt vanished in an instant. The blade's path sharpened, and she wasn't dragged by its weight.
"A knight decides their own weapon. If you dream of being one, you know the difference between two-handed and one-handed. And remember: divine power isn't infinite."
"Ah... ha, haha."
Cletta laughed hollowly. Memories flooded back of conversations with Sir Slrod, her family's "best" knight.
'Just mimic my swordsmanship, miss.'
'But this sword is too heavy...'
'It's fine. With Terra's divine power, you can handle a heavy two-hander easily.'
'Won't it make proper forms hard?'
'Are you doubting me?'
'N-no, sir. Please continue.'
The Peliche family was on the brink of ruin, far from martial prowess. Their "knights" were lazy good-for-nothings like Sir Slrod and a few others. Knighthood was prestigious in the empire, but he was arrogant, complacent, untrained—barely a knight. Content with slaying low-grade erosion beasts for the tiny Peliche house, teaching Cletta was just an annoying chore for an immature girl.
That laziness led him to teach her his half-baked two-handed style, unfit for her frame. If Cletta were suspicious by nature, she might have questioned it—but she trusted easily. Thus, she'd wasted years.
Realizing her hard efforts and self-loathing stemmed from this, rage boiled within her—self-directed fury.
'Idiot.'
A main weapon was sacred to aspiring knights, be it sword, spear, or axe. But blindly following others' words? She couldn't bear her own foolishness.
At the same time, she was deeply grateful to Ludenberg. A minor issue, but he'd spotted it faster than anyone. Family knights aside, no one at Solemnute Adem had—not even professors. Joint training didn't allow individual focus, and rank-specific sessions relied on divine power, masking her flaw. Terra's power hid her weakness when active. Ironically, divine-powerless Ludenberg saw it clearly.
"Thank you."
She expressed her sincere gratitude, and he merely nodded.
In that moment, a faint smile ghosted Ludenberg's lips—brief, but Cletta caught it.
Just as Ashytara said. Everyone had misunderstood him. No one who saw that smile could condemn him.