Training Begins
Clank—clank—
The sound of iron armor and greaves striking against each other as she walked somehow managed to sound quite valiant and bold.
Her breastplate, crafted a touch wider to fit her chest, had been shaped into the sharp form of fangs and finished with a splendid gold plating—refined, romantic armor through and through.
Fenril strode out looking every bit the lady knight, radiating pride and presence.
But for all the stern, solemn expression on her face, her tail was thrashing so hard it looked ready to fly clean off.
A knight… I'm a knight…!
Once an orphan abandoned by her parents, Fenril had naturally drifted into a life of crime—yet deep in her chest she had always dreamed of looking exactly like this.
Cool. Brave. A knight charging across the battlefield.
As a child, watching knight orders parade through the streets from the shadows of the underground alleys, she had nursed that romance. But as the boss of the Red Fang, she had buried it in a corner of her heart and pretended it didn't matter.
There had been complications, plenty of them—but she was an official knight now.
On the surface she had persuaded the Red Fang members that they had no choice, that this was a chance to wash their hands of crime and step into the light together. Privately, she had been trembling with excitement.
And now, for the first time since her knighthood, her liege Freya had summoned her.
She said that now that we have funds, she'll purge the underground alleys right away… I've held territory in those alleys for a long time myself. If I use that, I might make an even bigger impression.
Fenril figured she had been called up to deploy for the coming purge.
Good. The plan's already perfect. All that's left is to deploy…!
If I distinguish myself on this one, I can lock down my position even more firmly—and my standing with my liege might grow that much greater too.
Having been thoroughly outmaneuvered by Freya and taken for a massive ride, Fenril felt less resentment than sheer amazement.
Freya's schemes never relied on simple threats or crushing people under the weight of noble rank. She always kept that gentle smile. She was someone who looked further—much further—ahead. And when she found talent, she made no distinctions of class or race. The very picture of an outstanding commander's character.
As a beastkin who had mixed into human society and endured every kind of inconvenience and discrimination, it was only natural that Fenril had been moved by Freya, who had freely extended an offer to her first.
"Hoo… My liege. This Fenril has arrived at your summons."
Wrestling with all those thoughts, Fenril found herself at the office door before she knew it. She took a deep breath, then pieced together the archaic words she had seen in fairy tales and plays about the knights she had admired since childhood, and knocked.
"Ah, come in!"
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
At the voice from beyond the thick door, Fenril flung it open and strode inside.
"I have come at my liege's command—"
She bowed solemnly, then lifted her head to look at the liege who had called her—and swallowed the rest of her words.
Unlike the office she had visited in the dead of night a few days ago, mountain-high stacks of documents greeted her.
"Ah, you're here!"
"M-My liege…! What on earth is all this…?"
"Hehe. I'm not quite used to being called 'liege,' but I rather like it. It does stir a man's heart, wouldn't you say?"
"…Pardon?"
While she was still reeling from the magnificent document piles, Freya—who had been completely hidden behind how high they were—appeared with a light smile.
"O-Ohhh…! A new recruit?"
"Yes, Curmon. This is Dame Fenril, who'll be assisting us for a while."
"Ah… Aah…! Dame Fenril…! A pleasure to meet you! I'm Curmon."
"Ueh? Eh? Ah, well… Nice to meet you…?"
From the neighboring table, equally buried under mountains of documents, a presence stirred. A figure staggered over and took her hand.
Dark circles hanging down past his eyes. Hollowed cheeks. The gaunt man looked ready to collapse at a light tap. He clutched Fenril's hand and wept freely, as if a savior had arrived.
"Now then, I'd like you to start with these."
"Uh… My liege? What is this…?"
"Now that funds have been secured, these are all the administrative tasks we couldn't touch before because we lacked the budget."
"A-All of this?"
"Ah, of course not all of it. We're continuously sending more documents up, so please work quickly."
"…Did you summon me not to discuss the underground alley purge operation, but rather…?"
"Yes. I'm counting on you?"
"…."
"Ah, Dame Fenril. Your seat is over here."
"Ah… Yes."
"First, we need cost estimates for various repair works that must be handled within this quarter, based on the prepared funds. Reference materials are in these documents—"
Thud. Thud.
While she stood babbling, consciousness half-lost at how wildly different this was from her expectations, documents began piling up on the table she had been guided to—just as many as theirs.
"Time is of the essence, so I'd appreciate it if you work quickly. Still, with Dame Fenril here, I might actually get three hours of sleep tonight. I'm truly delighted! Well then."
"………"
…
…
Scratch. Scratch.
…
…
Scratch. Scratch.
Clank. Clank.
…
Clank. Clank—
"Dame Fenril? I'm sorry, but could you remove your armor?"
"Ah, yes."
…
…
Scratch. Scratch.
This isn't it. The knight I imagined definitely wasn't like this…
Assigned a seat in the blink of an eye, Fenril stripped off the breastplate and gauntlets she had polished to a shine all night long just to look cool, set aside her sword, picked up a pen, and began filling out documents.
To others it may mean nothing, but to me, this pen is my sword and my arms.
So that line was actually real… Shit.
As she worked, Fenril recalled the makeshift knighting ceremony from their secret meeting a few days ago—and a single tear dropped from the corner of her eye.
And so, once again, the only sound that echoed through the office of Evergarden Manor was the scratch, scratch of pens on paper.
"…Hmph. Cocky little mutt. Suffer a bit."
"Huh? What'd you just say?"
"Nothing of consequence. Merely wondering whether the beast is being properly tamed…"
"…??"
At that moment, in the empty training grounds, Gordon muttered something under his breath, then cleared his throat and glossed over it.
"Incidentally… You said you wished to learn the sword, but I did not expect the young miss to join us as well."
"Ugh, why do I have to do this for real… I was sleeping just fine…"
"Hey! Always rolling around in your room—aren't you sick of it?"
"Mom…! No, Lady of the House! I literally just got out of the service grind, can't I rest a little?!"
"And what's this about a sword all of a sudden? You said you were bored and wanted to hang out, so I came! This is the first I'm hearing about swords!"
The day after Darian told Gordon he wanted to learn Sword Aura, they gathered at the training grounds at the appointed time—and there was Rosaria, someone who hadn't even been mentioned when the arrangement was made.
It was true that Rosaria had been bored that morning, wondering how to kill time. It was also true that Darian had approached her saying there was something fun and lured her out. But being suddenly made to change clothes and dragged to the training grounds was something the two of them had never agreed on.
"Hey, you'll change your mind once you see it. Gordon? That thing… yeah. Show it again."
"Yes, understood."
Whoosh—
"…Ohh..! Wait, that. Sword Aura? That's the one you showed before, right?!"
The face of a soldier dragged out for weekend daylight labor, looking thoroughly unimpressed, lasted only a moment. The instant the blue aura blazed from Gordon's hand, Rosaria's eyes lit up.
"Holy shit… That's sick."
"Right? Awesome, huh? Don't you want to learn it?"
"Yesyesyesyes… I absolutely want to learn it."
Rosaria had never been particularly into comics or anime, but seeing Gordon radiate energy right in front of her, she felt a man's instincts boiling up.
"…Then, may we begin?"
"Let's start right away!"
And so Gordon's Sword Aura lecture proceeded with the enthusiastic support of both of them.
"Hah… Hah… Hah…!"
Sweat poured from her forehead, ran down her sharp jawline, and plopped onto the barren training ground, leaving a small dark spot.
"A-Ahh no…! Crazy…! Haaah…! Haaah…!"
She'd thought she was going to learn Sword Aura, but Gordon had suddenly ordered laps around the training grounds. With every step, Rosaria's legs trembled as if they might give out any second.
"Thirteen laps remaining, young miss."
"I'm dying!!!"
Whether he knew her condition or not, Gordon calmly announcing the remaining laps made Rosaria hate him so much.
"Why… haah…! Am I the only one…! Hah…! Runninggg.. uugh…!"
"Yeah, I don't have to run?"
"Lord Darian's physique is already solidly built; there is no need for you to do so at present. You already completed physical conditioning this morning, did you not?"
"However, the young miss lacks even the stamina to grip a sword and swing it, let alone draw out aura. For the time being, she will need to focus on building her endurance."
"Hey! You hear that?! You're stuck doing laps for a while."
"I'm not doing it! I'd have to be crazy… uugh…! Aaaah!!!"
Unlike Darian, who had always loved exercise and continued training even after becoming a man, Rosaria had been a noble young lady—so far from building muscle, her stamina was abysmal from a sheer lack of exercise.
"Then what should I do?"
"Hmm… Lord Darian, you have never learned the sword, have you? Even in your days as the young master, you kept your distance from the blade… so when you suddenly said you wished to learn, I was somewhat surprised."
"Ah, haha…? Is that so? Well… just sitting around felt weird, and Freya handles all the administrative work so well I was getting bored."
"Even so, this Gordon! For the head of the Evergarden family—a house renowned for swordsmanship since ancient times—to personally request instruction in the blade… though my skill is lacking, I resolved to guide you with all my strength!"
"…Uh-huh. So, what's that got to do with what I'm doing next?"
"A moment, if you would come this way."
Finished with his sudden speech, Gordon led Darian over to various training equipment set in a corner of the training grounds.
"Please select whichever feels most comfortable to you."
"Huh? Anything here? Don't I have to use a sword?"
Swords, spears, bows, axes, hammers—confirming that more than just swords were laid out, Darian asked again.
"A sword is highly versatile, so most begin with one. But fundamentally, a weapon is a tool. I believe it proper to choose one suited to one's own body."
"Ohh… Is that so?"
Hearing Gordon's explanation, Darian nodded with interest, then began surveying all the remaining weapons.
"Then, this one."
What he chose was an axe. A single-edged axe of the sort one might use to split firewood.
"This one fits my hand best."
Having handled a fire axe well even as a firefighter, breaking down locked doors, Darian's choice was unhesitating.
"An axe… You've chosen quite a brutal weapon."
"I'm pretty simple-minded, so I like this kind of thing. Bad choice? Should I pick something else?"
"No, it is fine."
"So, what do I do with this now?"
"Do you know the most efficient way to assess an opponent's skill?"
"…No idea."
As Darian gripped and released the axe he'd chosen, looking at Gordon, the butler revealed the hand he'd been hiding behind his back.
"By facing them directly, of course."
"Just like that? And bare-handed?"
"This Gordon's joints have been aching a bit of late, but it will be no trouble."
"But I've got a weapon over here. That's not fair."
"Even should Lord Darian swing a greatsword of mithril, I would be perfectly fine. Please rest assured."
"…Hmph, is that so?"
Darian looked slightly taken aback at Gordon's proposal to spar bare-handed right away.
"Yeah, that makes sense. Better to just clash than have someone telling you do this, do that."
Whoosh—
He lightly swung the axe in his hand, cutting the air, and grinned.
"Watch yourself. You've still got to think about retirement, right?"
"This Gordon believes it is far too early to hand over his post."
"…."
"…."
"Here I come!"
"Haaah… hah… haaah…! My heart's gonna explode…!"
And so, while one person panted and ran laps around the training grounds, in a corner, a sparring match began without anyone else knowing.