Why Are You Here, Sir?

The Empire was a nation that revered martial prowess above all else. Within its borders lived four individuals known as the Emperor's Four Swords. These were the greatest warriors in their respective fields, all trained under a single master. That master's name was Decaron. Yet unlike his four famous disciples, Decaron himself was not widely known. Part of the reason was that his students had deliberately kept his existence secret, fearing his reputation might overshadow their own. But the bigger reason was that Decaron had no desire to be famous in the first place. He preferred a quiet life in the countryside.

However, in his twilight years, he found he didn't want to take all his knowledge to the grave. In this era where the legends of Heroes and Demon Kings still lingered, he wished to pass everything on—not just to his four disciples, but to future generations as well. At first, he had hoped to transmit his training manuals through his students, but they refused. Their ambitions and various complicated reasons stood in the way.

“If that's how it is, there's only one option left.”

What he chose was to write a book himself, preserving his training methods for posterity. The recent boom in the novel market in the Glacia Kingdom had influenced the Empire as well, leading Decaron to this decision. Since the Empire was heavily influenced by his disciples, he would publish through another country instead. A place like Glacia Kingdom, home to the legends of the Hero and the Saintess, for example.

Once his mind was made up, Decaron immediately began work on a training manual covering swordsmanship and various martial arts. He titled it Sword Saint's Swordsmanship Manual. It contained not only sword techniques but also supplementary martial disciplines, and he was confident it was the most meticulously crafted work of his entire life.

He knew requesting publication from an Empire publisher would only result in another rejection, so Decaron contacted Portmus Publishing in Glacia. He even negotiated directly with the company's president, Hugo, to ensure the publishing process could begin.

“You wish to sell this.”

“You may take all the profits, President Hugo. My only goal is for everything I have taught to be passed down to future generations.”

“I see. Hmm. The knights I know have all said this is quite remarkable. Very well. Let's give it a try.”

Just as the publishing project was about to get underway, President Hugo made an unexpected request.

“You want me to personally teach swordsmanship to someone? What is this about?”

It was a sudden suggestion to take on a disciple. Decaron, who had unpleasant memories regarding students, responded curtly. But President Hugo simply pulled out a book and showed it to him. The title was There Is No Defeat in My Hero Party. It was quite a provocative name for a novel.

“Would you read this book first?”

Caught off guard by the sudden request, Decaron began reading. At first he thought, What kind of novel is this? But it turned out to be surprisingly engaging. A mysteriously captivating story. It followed the first Hero as he raced across the world to save a despairing humanity. It was a masterpiece.

More than anything, for Decaron—a man from the martial-worshipping Empire—it was exciting in a way that felt entirely inappropriate for his age.

“Oh. This is… truly fascinating. I’m very much looking forward to what happens to Hero Lars next. This is undoubtedly a once-in-a-generation work that will sell tremendously well even in the Empire.”

But he never imagined that this very book would now be connected to a request for him to take on a disciple from the Kingdom. Well, if he only listened to the proposal, it wasn’t a bad offer at all. After all, who wouldn’t want to raise a Hero like that?

The problem was that this was a publishing house. He didn’t think President Hugo was the type to make such a request lightly.

“That’s correct. We’re also planning to expand into the Empire, and the author of this work believes it would be best to experience things firsthand before writing about them.”

“Oh?”

“Even if it’s not at the level of taking on a formal disciple, could you perhaps provide some training to the author?”

Ah, right. It had been about taking a disciple after all. A disciple, huh. He only had bad memories of disciples. The president seemed to have tactfully pivoted away from that word, but if the author of such an outstanding novel wanted to learn, there would be no shortage of things to teach. Besides, this wasn’t the Empire, so it might actually be helpful. And judging by the story’s progression, there would likely be a second and third volume. Teaching for a short while shouldn’t be a problem.

“Hmm. Very well. If it will be of help, I’ll do it.”

And so it was that Decaron, the Empire’s greatest swordsman, came to meet the author K.

The person President Hugo introduced was truly an unexpected figure. Decaron. To think I would meet him here of all places.

Decaron was one of the most important figures in the Empire. He was the master of the famous Emperor's Four Swords. However, his ungrateful disciples had done everything they could to undermine their master’s reputation, fearing he might outshine them. Decaron had never sought power or status in the first place, yet he was deeply disappointed by their betrayal. Eventually, he tried to leave the Empire that had begun to feel like a cage, while his disciples—the Four Swords—became consumed by regret and obsession.

In short, that plagiarist author bitch had crammed all that nonsense into the Empire’s setting. She had basically mashed several different stories together and simply made Sophia the protagonist. In a way, if the Empire had been the main stage, Decaron would have been the kind of character who could have been the hero. He was quite old, his disciples were obsessed with him in a pathetic way, and yet he was so ridiculously overpowered that he easily evaded their pursuit. And now this person was writing a book?

Ah. This must be because of me.

Thanks to my actions, novels had spread like wildfire throughout the Kingdom. Naturally, that elevated the status of publishing houses, and word had reached the Empire as well. That was how Decaron had learned of it. And so, in order to leave behind some legacy, he had chosen to write a training manual.

Originally, he would have spent his time fleeing from his disciples until he coincidentally helped that idiot Schwald during the Demon King subjugation. He was only mentioned a few times from the Empire’s perspective after that. To think my actions had altered the original story this much. Was this the irony of history?

Anyway, if I could learn from someone like Decaron, this was a heaven-sent opportunity. I needed to get on his good side somehow. This was the man who had already been stabbed in the back by his disciples and was now simply preparing for death.

“Hello. I’m K, the author of There Is No Defeat in My Hero Party. I’ve heard so much about you from both my editor and the president.”

I immediately bowed deeply in greeting.

“Oh ho. I didn’t expect such a lovely young lady.”

“I’m the one who should be surprised. I know quite a lot about you, Master.”

I made my eyes sparkle as much as possible.

“About me?”

“Of course! You are the great Sword Saint Decaron who trained the Empire’s Four Swords! Isn’t that right? It is truly an honor to meet you!”

I cried out with tears of emotion glistening in my eyes, practically singing his praises.

“How does a young woman like you know of me?”

“Isn’t it only natural? I research every possible source when writing my novels. I know all about you, Sir Decaron!”

It was the truth—I knew because of the original story—but what did it matter? This was my chance. The original plot had already been twisted, and Decaron had chosen the path of publishing. In that case, I would win him over to my side, reap the benefits, and perhaps even ask him to handle any future messes Schwald might cause. I could even subtly suggest that he teach Schwald a little earlier. After all, even if he was old, this man still had many years left before he would die.

“Oh ho. There are almost no people in the Empire who still know of me, yet a young lady from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a foreign country knows so much.”

That was right. Before he met his disciples, Decaron had been active as the Empire’s Sword Saint from a young age. Yet now, almost no one in the Empire knew of him. Why? The answer was obvious. His disciples had worked hard to bury his existing fame. Of course, decades had passed and some of it had simply been forgotten, but his students had done many things to overshadow their master’s reputation.

If I played my cards right, I could obtain this incredible item called Decaron.

“The profession of novelist requires investigating everything in order to create a perfect story. Since There Is No Defeat in My Hero Party is set across the entire continent, I’ve been researching various countries. That’s how I came to learn about you, Sir Decaron.”

“Oh ho.”

There’s a saying that praise can make even a dog dance. Decaron might be a Sword Saint, but right now he was suffering because of his pathetic disciples. Having a beautiful young woman praise him like this must feel both ironic and deeply moving. No man hates receiving a woman’s attention. And Decaron was currently in a position where he desperately wanted to leave something behind. In such a situation, if a lovely girl called him Master and asked him to teach her, could he possibly refuse?

Besides, I had no intention of becoming a real disciple. I just needed to learn enough to write my novel. Building a good relationship and keeping him tied to this country would be more than enough.

“I don’t expect you to take me as a formal disciple! Just teach me a little—enough to help with my writing!”

“Hmm. Is that so.”

“Yes?”

Suddenly Decaron stroked his chin, deep in thought. No, it wasn’t just thinking. Upon closer inspection, he was looking me up and down. I hadn’t been in this body for very long, but since it was female, I could definitely feel it. Men’s gazes. The gaze of the opposite sex. Whether they were looking at my face or my body, I could sense their eyes on me. I used to be a man, so I knew it well. When you see a pretty woman, you can’t help but look at least once. I honestly thought it was because I was that attractive, but…

Right now, Decaron’s gaze wasn’t perverted at all.

“Your body is certainly that of a woman, but among women there are those born with the spirit of a warrior. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you, Miss K.”

“Is that so?”

Then what was it? Was he saying he couldn’t teach me? No, his eyes suggested otherwise. The way this old man was looking at my body, it seemed like he was seriously analyzing something.

“But strangely, the energy flowing through your body is extraordinary. From the perspective of the Sword Saint you praise so highly, Miss K, your body seems as if it has been prepared for anything and everything. It’s completely activated.”

“Huh? My body?”

What was wrong with my body?

“It’s not an innately perfect frame, but the potential to overcome that is there. Hmm. How many hours a day do you write?”

“Pardon? Ah, if it’s just learning on the side, I can make time whenever.”

If I reduced my time going out and focused on learning, it should be fine. I could write manuscripts quickly anyway, so there wouldn’t be any problems.

“Heh heh. There’s no need to be so modest. In what remains of my life, I would like to take you, Miss K, as my final disciple.”

Huh? What was this development? Why was I becoming Decaron’s disciple? I only wanted to learn a little!

Uh, the one who was supposed to become Decaron’s disciple was Schwald. Even if only briefly. Of course, once he realized Schwald had the Holy Sword’s power, he had only given advice on how to handle it at least a little. There was even a specific line of dialogue.

—Why would someone like this pathetic brat be chosen as the Holy Sword’s Hero?

It had been quite the despairing line. He had lamented that if only he were younger, but ultimately only trained Schwald’s stamina enough to somewhat wield the Holy Sword. The rest had been handled by the sword itself.

In other words, astonishingly, the final disciple of Decaron’s life was supposed to be a guy like Schwald. And now it looked like that disciple was going to be me instead. Well, if he took another one after me, maybe it would be fine. I had no idea how the original story ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would change from here on.

But becoming his real disciple… this was a bit much. I was originally Korean. If it was something emotionally charged like magic, maybe, but learning the sword directly felt wrong. Sure, there was romance in swordsmanship, but you could still practice that in reality. Wasn’t it different from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something truly romantic like magic?

“I look forward to working with you.”

The atmosphere right now was exactly like something you’d ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see in a martial arts novel. Being acknowledged as a disciple by the world’s greatest Sword Saint and then being trained under him to grow stronger. No way. Damn it.

And just like that, I had become the disciple of one of the strongest beings in this world.