Flying Sword (2)
The clear chime of a handbell echoed through the room. After Norde left the office, Cornelius rang the bell without hesitation.
Change the guard. I will be sparring with the guest for a while.
The butler who answered the bell bowed deeply. Cornelius gave a meaningful glance toward the knight commander standing nearby. The knight commander immediately understood and spoke in a respectful tone.
“I recommend calling Senior Knight Kelrtr. He would gladly lay down his life to protect you in my stead, my lord.”
“Do that. Butler, bring him here.”
The knight commander had promised to instruct Norde, so he was arranging a replacement escort. Once the butler left to fetch the substitute, Cornelius stroked his beard and muttered thoughtfully.
“Instruction, huh… What do you make of it?”
“From what I can tell, it is likely a craving to reach the next realm.”
The knight commander answered quickly; the same question had been weighing on his mind as well.
Tap. Tap.
Cornelius drummed his fingers on the table.
“You’re saying he asked for guidance because he wants to become even stronger? From what I’ve heard, he’s a warrior on par with you.”
Before visiting the head of the Hermione Guild, Cornelius had sent a man to one of Renapolis’ most reputable information agencies. He simply couldn’t believe the feats Primor had written about this outsider named Norde.
The woman known as Catherine Heswald, who doubled as an information broker, had been about to leave town but didn’t ignore the servant he sent. The information she provided was only what circulated on the streets. Still, for Cornelius, that was more than enough.
Norde was no ordinary man.
“He slew a man who rose to honorary nobility through swordsmanship, and he’s an Aura user who killed a giant impervious to blades and spears in a single strike. Would a master of that caliber really cling to a few words of instruction?”
Cornelius had also heard rumors about the ferocity of that hideous giant. The nobles who had hunted the giant in Renapolis and obtained its hide were already bragging about it everywhere. The hide itself was top-grade material for equipment. Its only flaw was vulnerability to strong light, but that could be easily fixed by enchanting it with the proper magic before processing.
And Norde had slaughtered several of those monsters—whose hides couldn’t even be cut without Aura—with his own body right after battle. Multiple eyewitness accounts confirmed the story beyond doubt.
“A warrior of Mithril Class caliber won’t change much from receiving instruction at this point. And, though it pains me to say it, it would be difficult for you to unilaterally teach him anything.”
“There is no need to apologize; that is simply the truth. Perhaps he is simply grasping at straws.”
A warrior who had hit a wall would naturally feel desperate to find a way past it. The knight commander knew this from personal experience, but he chose not to mention that part.
Though he said nothing aloud, the knight commander had been completely stagnant for over seven years since reaching Mithril Class. His strength was still more than sufficient for any task, but the lack of growth weighed heavily on him as a warrior. The wall of Master Class was that high.
If Norde felt the same way, it made sense that he would seek instruction from someone at a similar level.
“I see.”
Cornelius accepted the explanation without further deliberation. He trusted the loyal knight’s judgment far more than his own youthful doubts about abandoning the path of the sword to become family head.
“Teach him a few lines of our family’s Flying Sword technique. However, limit it to the level taught to lower knights.”
“Understood.”
The knight commander obeyed without question. He is a master of that caliber. He will surely grasp the deeper principles hidden within our family’s swordsmanship on his own.
Even the sword forms taught to lower knights could not be taken lightly. While the core secrets had been stripped away to prevent the family’s true art from leaking, the martial principles of the Flying Sword still remained within those basic movements.
Cornelius added one more cautious remark.
“Do not guide him through each technique one by one. Show him only the essentials, then leave him be. It would be rude to spy on his training process.”
“Of course. It might appear as though we doubt Sir Norde’s skill or learning ability.”
“Exactly. That’s all. Getting older really does bring nothing but worries.”
Cornelius let out a hearty laugh. The knight commander smiled beneath his helmet at the old lord’s jest.
“Leave it to me. Sir Norde is already a master capable of wielding Aura. With his exceptional talent, teaching him more than necessary would only waste his time.”
For a Mithril Class warrior, attempting to teach in detail was pointless. There was no way Norde would want a systematic explanation of Aura control like some mediocre knight. A few well-chosen hints to spark insight would be more than enough. That was the unspoken understanding between Cornelius and the knight commander.
Knock. Knock.
“My lord, it is the butler.”
Right on cue, the butler returned with the replacement escort. The knight commander gave Cornelius a light bow, then left the office.
Creak—Thud!
With no one left to guard against, the senior knight who had come as escort stood watch just outside the office door. Alone now, Cornelius closed his eyes and reflected on the conversation that had just taken place.
Norde’s unshakable attitude in front of the elders of Romania had been deeply impressive. Yet he had never come across as arrogant. The sharp intellect hidden behind his words was also very appealing.
Even without this particular opportunity, Cornelius would have become Norde’s patron if they had met. Now that he had even received help from the man, handing over the family crest wouldn’t be out of the question. After all, Norde did not seem like the type to abuse the Armaals name for personal gain.
Hoo…
He had only closed his eyes for a moment, yet old memories from his childhood kept rising to the surface. Cornelius noticed his own sentimentality and gave a small, bitter laugh. Perhaps his son’s death still cast a long shadow of guilt over his heart.
“…Fate really is a cruel thing, Leticia.”
Like any ordinary old man, the elder of Romania quietly reminisced about his younger days.
Fuck. I’m completely screwed.
I broke out in a cold sweat, my pupils practically having an earthquake. Let me say it again. I am in deep, deep shit right now.
The reason is simple. These insane talent junkies have set the damn bar ridiculously high.
Deeeeh…?
In the training grounds where the Armaals family knights practiced, I stood alone holding a sword for the first time in months, looking like a scarecrow that had just been smacked in the back of the head. That’s right. Alone.
The knight commander who was supposedly going to teach me had disappeared ages ago.
Shall I introduce myself first? I am Gaius Ritter Vane.
The knight commander only said that much after removing his helmet, led me to this training ground, and showed me the Armaals family swordsmanship. He was a ridiculously handsome blond pretty-boy, and a talent monster who existed on a completely different level from me.
I will now demonstrate. These are the seven basic movements that form the foundation of our family’s sword art.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh—!
Bwoong bwoong bwoong bwoong—!
The knight commander introduced himself with a refreshing smile and swung his sword exactly seven times in front of me. I clapped for the sword form that had been shown in roughly ten seconds. Obviously, I had assumed he would demonstrate the full sequence once, then explain each movement one by one from the beginning.
It took me about three seconds to realize how ridiculously naïve that thought had been.
You saw it, right? Then I shall take my leave. Do your best with training!
What?
After swinging his sword a few times in the air, the knight commander ran away with that disgustingly handsome, refreshingly cheerful face. Only then did I finally understand what the hell had just happened.
That son of a bitch was using the excuse of teaching me to slack off during work hours!!
“Kieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek──!!!”
I trembled with fierce betrayal. There was no way this could be a misunderstanding. If he had any real intention of teaching me, he should have at least explained the movements or demonstrated them multiple times!
But instead, he just flailed around like some overweight American otaku waving a katana, then actually left!!!
“Fuuuuck… I should’ve just asked for money…”
Shaking with rage, I glared at the spot where the knight commander had vanished. What a spectacular case of paycheck fraud. If I failed to learn anything, he would definitely pull a home-shopping scam tactic and say, ‘It’s because you couldn’t do it, so why are you yelling at me?’
It had been a while since I’d been properly burned by the spicy taste of this other world.
I should’ve kept Odin’s Eye active, damn it.
He had just gone swish swish chop chop and disappeared. There wasn’t even time to read the flow of mana. The only thing left in my memory was the knight commander’s mocking smile as he danced around with a sword before bolting.
I had tried to imitate Kakashi with my Sharingan against a master-class warrior, but when the dust settled, I was nothing more than Rock Lee. If you removed all the cheats and forced me to produce results through pure effort, I was just a genius at trying hard.
The backstabbing in Romat Leaf Village… always comes twice…
“Hehe, why are you just standing there looking stupid?”
While I was wallowing in regret, thinking, So this is what happens when meticulously crafted elite scams catch an idiot like me off guard~, a group of people called out to me.
They were knights with military-style buzz cuts. True to this world’s fashion, their hair colors were all over the place, which made them look ridiculously funny. Holy shit! A Westerner with a blue-dyed buzz cut!
I pressed my lips tightly together to hold back my laughter. Veins bulged on my neck. If these crazy bastards were going to express their individuality through hairstyles, they should at least be handsome. Wasn’t it against the rules to try to be funny with their physique when they had zero sense of humor? How could a person look like a half-painted sweet potato?
“Well well, we heard you were an incredibly powerful warrior. What are you doing just standing there?”
I had been desperately holding back my laughter, but I could feel clear malice radiating from their sweet-potato faces. The blue sweet potato who stepped forward wore the arrogant ugliness typical of racists and swaggered arrogantly.
“Hmm? Why are you glaring at us like that? Are you going to teach us a lesson or something? Mr. Silver Class adventurer?”
The sweet potatoes and potatoes giggled among themselves. I wasn’t glaring, you idiots—I almost burst out laughing at your faces.
…But do these guys have screws loose in their heads?
After forcing down my laughter, I began to feel suspicious. I didn’t know the exact reason, but it was obvious these bastards had come to pick a fight with me. Even though I was currently a guest of the family and receiving patronage from the lord himself.
There were about four of them, and there were no other knights in the training ground. From that alone, I roughly figured it out.
They’re the idiots who came out for supplementary training.
The level of knight management in this elder house is pretty sloppy. No, looking closer, these root-vegetable bastards seemed to have decent skills. Of course, that half-baked skill seemed to have fueled their twisted personalities.
I crossed my arms and thought it over. Figuring out the shallow minds of these dog-shit bastards was easy. They were probably doubting my skills that they had only heard about through rumors. They had come out to train even on their day off, yet some yellow monkey con artist had the audacity to spout lies and receive patronage from the lord. In other words, it was pure jealousy.
After watching me get screwed over by the knight commander, they must have decided I was an easy target. Their tone was still somewhat polite, but they were bold enough to openly provoke me.
So this is the kind of pathetic envy you get when you succeed.
…Huh?
At that moment, a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
The low-level knight swordsmanship that the knight commander showed me roughly before running away… Can’t these guys use it too?
They clearly looked like small fries. Whether they were low-rank or mid-rank, there was zero chance I would lose to them. On the contrary, maybe I could get them to explain the finer details of that sword form that had ended in just a few seconds earlier.
I also had the Skill Capture I stole from that warlock mafia bastard. If I copied the sword form from these guys, then went to the knight commander and said, “I’ve mastered everything you showed me. Is there anything else?” he would have no choice but to show me more.
And then I just steal his Aura usage technique at that time!
Good. It was a perfect plan.
I smiled with satisfaction.
“Hey, buzz-cut knight sirs. You asked if I was going to teach you a lesson, right?”
“Huh?”
Clang!
I tossed my sword aside and beckoned to the blue sweet potato who had been acting the most obnoxious.
“Come at me. Stop acting pathetic and jealous like a little bitch.”
If I ignored a provocation that had already been thrown, my macho pride would cry. It looked like I’d get to beat up some trash without worrying about killing them. It had been a while.