Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Overzealous Instructor
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I'm already short on training time as it is.
And yet here I am, plunged into the most troublesome—no, downright infuriating—situation imaginable.
Jayvolg's smile right next to me was enough to make my head spin.
And... there were a few more reasons I wanted to avoid Jayvolg.
I quietly summoned Bator while leaving Jayvolg behind for a moment.
"Bator."
"Yes, young master."
"Come see me for a second."
I slipped into a separate room with Bator and whispered to him.
"Can't we ask the main family to send someone else?"
"Someone else, you say?"
"Yeah, anyone but that guy would be fine."
Anyone else would teach me just enough and call it a day. That would be way better.
Jayvolg, on the other hand, was the type who didn't know the meaning of "just enough."
-I'll make sure to turn you into a strong man, young master!
Those words, spoken like a solemn vow, still echoed in my mind.
"That's..."
Bator looked troubled.
"I'm afraid that's impossible, young master. That knight was personally brought here by the eldest young master. He's already making waves as a knight destined for greatness. His skills are top-notch, and his character is impeccable—families everywhere were competing for him. To replace someone like that...!"
Bator, his hair half-gray, clenched his fist with a surge of emotion.
"The eldest young master went out of his way to bring him here for you."
"..."
Put like that, it did soften my resolve... a little.
Not that I'm ungrateful to my big brother, but this guy isn't helping me—he's just going to be a massive pain.
I recalled my first life, when Jayvolg's passion had infected me like a fever.
-Whoa! You're really the top graduate of the knight academy?
-Indeed. The result of hard work.
-So if I work hard, can I become like you, sir?
-Of course.
-I'll do my best, Master!
-Excellent!
Looking back now, it wasn't all Jayvolg's fault.
I was at fault too.
Back then, I took his words as gospel and kept swinging that sword obsessively even after he left the family.
The result was predictable.
I failed. Utterly and completely.
In hindsight, it was like telling a snake to fight a leopard with claws.
I couldn't repeat history.
I turned to Bator again.
"Bator, still, please ask big brother to reconsider. I'll still learn the sword."
There was yet another reason I rejected Jayvolg so vehemently.
His passion overflowed—way too much. To the point of exhaustion.
Jayvolg was a madman who lived and died by the sword.
It was great at first, but eventually I was playing hide-and-seek just to escape him.
Isn't an enthusiastic teacher a good thing?
I snorted. Back then...
-J-Jayvolg...?
-Young master, you must think of the sword even in your sleep. Embrace it while you rest to feel its sanctity...!
-C-Can't I just sleep?
He'd barge in out of nowhere during bedtime, spouting nonsense about hugging the sword.
-Jayvolg, this isn't lesson time right now...?
-You must never let go of the sword, even when relieving yourself!
He even followed me to the bathroom, lecturing on swordsmanship until I nearly fell in.
By the time I realized Jayvolg was a weirdo, it was too late.
He kept it up for three extra months beyond his mandatory three-month duty.
Insisting he'd change me.
Thanks, but... it brought tears to my eyes.
Wasn't that the epitome of laughing through tears?
In the end, I'd grown sick of him.
Whether it was good or bad... I don't know, but was it Jayvolg's influence?
I'd trained in a sword that didn't suit me until my dying breath.
Early education is dangerously potent, I tell you.
I wish Jayvolg had been Ho Cheol-seung, the instructor called the Grim Reaper of the Sichuan Tang Clan.
He would have been a perfect fit for me.
A disciple needs the right master, and vice versa.
That's the ideal teacher-student bond—mutual benefit.
Unfortunately, we weren't it.
Jayvolg was a leech, plain and simple.
Not a bad guy, but undeniably annoying.
But against my hopes, Bator shook his head firmly.
"No, young master. Jayvolg will definitely make you strong! Haven't you always envied the other young masters training under great knights?"
"..."
No helping it.
Any more whining would just be spoiled behavior.
I'll just endure Jayvolg's lessons. Or tune him out.
Even I didn't know that a steadfast rock could crack under a cricket's endless chirping nearby.
"I'll make you a strong man, young master!"
His youthful vigor radiated even from here.
The passion of a new knight, perhaps.
Jayvolg's eyes looked ready to drip molten lava.
I sat at my desk, enduring his endless sword sermon.
"The sword is more flexible and stronger than any other weapon. That's why most warriors choose it. The Pador family is no different. We rose to prominence with the sword! The sword is the best!"
Why's he fondling the sword while saying that?
Why's he so excited?!
Isn't that guy a pervert?
Stop groping it...
Did he have some weird fetish? Jayvolg needed a serious talk with a doctor.
Just endure it a bit longer. Hang in there.
But an hour in, Jayvolg kept praising the sword nonstop.
Doesn't he get tired...?
"Hmmm..."
A groan escaped me unwittingly.
Jayvolg immediately barked at me.
"Young master, focus! You must master the basics from the start."
That's true, but.
Jayvolg, everything you say is bullshit.
Have you ever considered how a student feels listening to ill-fitting nonsense for hours on end?
This is torture, plain and simple.
Back then, I was ignorant enough to think, "Oh, I see!" But now, having sparred verbally with sword saints and knowing it all?
Those words barely registered.
Might as well go throw some needles instead.
I'd even brought needles for training.
But this passion-filled teacher had trapped me, stealing my practice time.
"Now, Pador family swordsmanship favors sturdy blades over springy ones. For example..."
I tried to hold out, but this was too much. Way too much.
Jayvolg would teach me for another six months.
Not because he insisted.
The family had sent him back to finish his knight duties, feeling sorry he hadn't started them yet, given his promising future.
But that was six months from now! Six months!
Endure this for another half year?
No way in hell.
Time to choose.
Kick Jayvolg out entirely? Tch... no.
In a way, he was someone I owed—maybe not a full debt of gratitude, but close enough.
The Tang Clan repays debts. That's our iron rule.
So what now?
A way for Jayvolg and me to not waste time, while helping him grow...
Aha! Perfect.
A brilliant idea struck me.
To repay his past passion, why not teach him instead?
It'd help him immensely—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
I never even gave one-on-one lectures to the Tang Clan's later generations.
Yes, this is gold.
I don't chase him off, avoid his bullshit, win-win. How great is that?
But could I just say, "Teacher, let me teach you"?
No amount of sweet-talking would work.
Especially with Jayvolg—a young knight so full of pride, like his brain had been rewired at the academy to live and die by honor.
Tell him that, and he'd cry foul, extending lessons out of spite...
Wait. Prideful?
Then exploit that.
Sorry, Jayvolg. Bear with the irritation. It's for your own good.
"Sir Jayvolg."
Jayvolg paused mid-ramble, not even frowning at the interruption.
"Yes, young master."
"I've been wondering. What makes the sword the best?"
"Obviously, it is. If you lined up history's strongest knights, five out of ten used swords. Doesn't that prove it?"
"But say you give a spear and a sword to two untrained adult men. Who wins?"
"Obviously..."
"No. Without fail, the spear guy wins. Every time."
I cut him off again, pressing my index and ring fingers together.
"Simple reason. Length. It's an absolute advantage."
"Young master, you could think that way, but that's just ignorant talk. Once you advance in skill..."
"Does skill make your weapon longer? Sure, mana extension could mimic it... but the weapon itself doesn't change. Not saying spears are superior—swords have strengths too. For instance..."
I folded both fingers.
The ring finger bent faster than the index.
"Spears are long, so once thrust, changing moves is hard. More openings. Swords are freer."
"Exactly, young master. That's why swords..."
"That's not my point. All weapons—not just swords and spears—have pros and cons. It's not the weapon; it's the wielder. And aptitudes differ per person, I think."
There are guys who call the sword a cure-all or miracle blade.
I'd love to stab a dagger into their foreheads.
It's all bullshit.
Blind swordsmen do that crap.
Like that guy.
They all ended up with holes in their chests from my poison needles or daggers in their skulls.
What would they call my flying dagger arts or poison palm? World's best? Ultimate poison? Ten thousand daggers?
Sounds legit... but nah, none of that exists.
Weapons are just edges. The master wielding them matters.
But narrow-minded folks like Jayvolg filled the world.
Jayvolg scowled deeply.
"Young master... that's a strange fallacy. The world has truths. Magic exists, doesn't it? All cast via fixed formulas."
"What did they teach you at the knight academy? That's not what I mean. I'm talking training methods—no, weapon differences, and ultimately, the human factor. Mages have elemental affinities too, right? That's what I mean."
Even as the count's son, openly challenging his lesson drew a reaction on Jayvolg's face.
He'd be offended.
Shattering his worldview like that. Sorry, but I planned to keep nitpicking.
His pride needed crushing.
That's why I was poking deliberately gently.
Eventually... he'd agree to a childish bet or demand.
Jayvolg stared at me for a long moment, then chuckled as if amused. His throat bobbed with laughter.
"Hahaha...! Young master, your eloquence is remarkable. I nearly fell for it! Your rhetoric rivals the Imperial Academy students. True Pador blood."
Jayvolg knelt to my eye level with a grin.
"Young master, keep walking the path silently, and you'll see someday. Why the sword is right... and why the Pador family chose it."
Not crumbling on day one, huh.
No matter. Time's on my side. And for my bet proposal to beat him, I needed a little prep.
"Is that so? Must've read it in some book."
His quick attitude shift made Jayvolg twitch, frowning.
"What book?! Such subversive texts must be burned."
My head, you idiot.
"Dunno, haha!"
"Better not read that stuff. Instead, check out Dean Marcus's book from the Imperial Knight Academy—Why the Sword is Right. I can lend it if you want!"
"No thanks. Let's continue the lesson."
"Hm... a pity. Well then...! Since it's the first day, theory today, then practical application starting tomorrow!"
And so, for a full four hours—interrupting other teachers—Jayvolg passionately ranted sword theory.
"That's it for today, young master!"
Only after seeing me utterly drained did Jayvolg finally end the lesson, satisfied.
"Ugh..."
Was I seaweed? Stuck flat to the desk.
How does one man spin so much talk from one sword?
That's a talent too.
"Young master, are you alright?"
Marian's soft voice drifted over as she set fruit juice on the desk.
"Have some of this at least. It'll give you strength. You're not well, and that knight grilled you too hard."
"Right?"
"Absolutely."
As I lifted the juice to my lips... several books thudded onto the desk.
Thud!
"No, this is how you get strong. That knight's right!"
Nellin beamed, pointing at books with "sword" in the titles.
"Young master! I bought these in town. They say reading this makes you a knight king!"
Becoming a master from street books... pure fantasy.
Nellin, you do the most useless things.
"Nelllin, these are all fake. You believe that?"
Marian scolded her. Nellin scratched her head.
"But the merchant swore it!"
"Obviously, to make a sale."
"Really?!"
"Can't let this slide. Come on, we'll return them together."
Marian gathered the books and dragged Nellin away.
The two maids vanished in a flash, leaving only the fruit juice behind.
Slurrrp...
"Mmm..."
Delicious as always.
Marian's cooking skills were impressive.
"Hm..."
More importantly... time to set up that bet with Jayvolg soon.
I needed to show the frog-in-a-well what a vast sky the world of weapons truly was.
For that... first, some physical conditioning?