Club Refusal (2)
“For now, I'll have to decline.”
Alan had no interest in insincere club activities. For someone juggling academics and writing, adding club duties would drain his stamina even more. Sure, he trained with Meia every morning and free period to build endurance, but he still needed dedicated time to focus on writing.
“Why?”
“I'm already swamped with school and writing.”
“...Ah.”
Felicia seemed to have momentarily forgotten that Alan was the author of the Shuren Chronicle. He gave a wry smile.
“I appreciate the invitation, but I have no plans to join a club anytime soon. I want to concentrate on the Shuren Chronicle.”
“Oh dear. Without you, there's no point in starting the club.”
“I don't think I have to be there for it to work.”
He could say it wasn't necessary. Sure, challenging royalty might seem insane, but Alan intended to live by his principles.
Felicia hummed thoughtfully at his response.
“Fine, then let's scrap the club idea. I was hoping to surprise you with it, but if you're not into it...”
“You don't have to cancel the whole thing just because of me...”
“But it wouldn't mean much without you. I want you to gain all sorts of experiences so you can write even more colorful stories.”
Sincerity shone in Felicia's eyes as she gazed at him. Meeting her stare, Alan lowered his head slightly.
After a brief silence, he spoke.
“...Then it doesn't have to be the Kun'Rung Culture Exploration Club, right?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Something like the Adventurer's Club, Exploration Club, or Travel Club would work too.”
“Oh! Those exist? How did I not think of that? Was I too fixated on Shuren Chronicle and Kun'Rung?”
Felicia beamed with pure delight. Alan continued.
“And Your Highness...”
“Felicia.”
“Pardon?”
“We've known each other face-to-face for quite a while now, but you're still sticking to 'Your Highness'? We're academy cadets first—before royalty or nobility. It feels like you're keeping your distance, and it really bums me out.”
Hands on her hips, Felicia pouted and stepped closer, pressuring him. If not for the academy uniform's modest coverage, Alan's eyes might have drifted to her chest. He leaned back slightly as she grabbed his tie.
“Answer me. Won't you?”
“Still...”
“It makes me super upset. Like you're drawing lines with me and Lin.”
“I haven't really...”
“She's right, Young Master Alan. You always keep a subtle distance. Starting with how you address people.”
With Lin joining the assault, Alan looked like the sky was falling. Felicia tugged his tie.
“You know, Alan? You're only on a first-name basis with Meia.”
He was at a loss for words. Truth be told, the only ones he treated casually were Meia, with whom he'd spent years, and his family like Albert.
“Your position is subtly isolated as well. Though as your maid, it's an honor.”
“Even you, Meia?!”
“Please accept reality, Young Master.”
Meia's cool verdict sank him completely. Felicia grinned triumphantly.
“Come on, call me Felicia now, Alan. I won't let go until you do.”
“...Mercy!!”
In the end, Alan promised to drop the honorifics with Felicia and Lin before escaping the two princesses.
Finally free, he slumped under some shade and sighed.
“How did I end up getting hounded by princesses? This is driving me nuts.”
“One could interpret it as proof of the Shuren Chronicle's massive influence. Though it's undeniably entertaining too.”
“Yeah, sure, but...”
Alan met Meia's eyes as she delicately wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Come to think of it, I really haven't made many friends here. Just Diavela, I guess?”
“You're always holed up writing. It's fortunate the two princesses approached you.”
“Am I... a hikikomori?”
“What's that? Doesn't sound like Empire tongue.”
“Uh, shut-in loser?”
“Sounds like Kun'Rung slang, judging by the unfamiliarity. I'll remember it.”
“No, forget it. You don't need to.”
Meia didn't respond. Alan sighed again.
“A thought I had while reading the Shuren Chronicle.”
“Yeah? What?”
“What if people actually tried to recreate the martial arts from it?”
“No way, right?”
At Alan's nonchalant reply, Meia countered.
“Hasn't there already been one attempt?”
“Sword illustrations? But you can't just replicate them from drawings. It's a novel.”
“Didn't you see Young Master Albert's swordsmanship?”
“...Huh?”
Cold sweat trickled down Alan's forehead.
“Crazy?”
Why hadn't he thought of that?
“Winner: Albert Eling von Mueller!”
Albert, fresh off another easy win in swordsmanship class, descended the training ground with his wooden sword in hand.
“Great work, Albert!”
“You were awesome today!”
“Your swordplay seems even sharper lately. Got a secret?”
He smirked at his followers' questions.
“Secret? Guess you'd call it the Shuren Chronicle.”
“That kindling trash?”
“Don't forget my little brother's the one who wrote that 'kindling.' Loose lips sink ships.”
“Sorry!! I was careless!!”
Tsking at the bowing follower, Albert racked his wooden sword. But he wasn't lying.
He'd genuinely felt something reading the Shuren Chronicle. The Mueller house's Lion Sword Technique overwhelmed with raw power, but at a huge cost. Generations had refined it to delay the peak's fade, but that was it.
Who knew the answer was in the Shuren Chronicle.
The Lion Sword Technique discarded finesse for brute force. Yet Alan's novel clearly showed its counters—not just in volume 3, but from 1 and 2, where Shuren clashed with diverse styles, sparking insights in Albert.
“You really got something from the Shuren Chronicle, Albert?”
“No reason to lie.”
“Sure, it's fun, but...”
Albert looked away from the lingering female cadet.
“If Alan had half-assed it, we wouldn't have had that recent fiasco. Weren't you all drooling over those illustrations just days ago?”
“Th-that was...”
“And flipping out over orcs depicted differently? Pathetic.”
His followers fell silent under his icy critique. They had no defense—their about-face was undeniable.
“Don't follow me.”
Class over, Albert left the training ground. Wiping sweat, he headed to his private dorm training room—exclusive to Knight Faculty cadets, and his personal one at that. He drew his cherished sword from home.
“Incredible, that kid Alan.”
Raising it skyward, he pictured his baby brother and chuckled.
“Maybe more theorist than practitioner.”
Bluish mana gathered on his blade. It traced a faint circle, etching a bizarre pattern in the air—like a black-and-white divided shield before him. Then—a deafening boom!
Bang!
The sturdy metal wall bore a Kun'Rung-esque pattern. Despite the roar, the magically reinforced wall showed only a shallow scar.
Yet Albert smiled with odd satisfaction.
“Good. Deeper than before.”
He couldn't even draw it that clearly before. A month focusing solo on sharpening this technique's form, and now results.
Gazing at the wall's pattern, he lowered his sword.
“Kun'Rung calls this Taiji, right?”
One of Shuren's clan sword arts from volume 1. The technique that inspired him most.
It taught him power wasn't everything. Drawing from Shuren's swordsmanship, he'd honed this counter to the Lion Sword Technique's dominance—attack and defense as one, rebounding foes' strikes stronger. Polar opposites.
Albert loved it. Low mana cost, efficient reversal with minimal effort. For unbeatable foes, fall back on Lion Sword. A new tool—how could he not be thrilled?
“...Guess I'll call it the Taiji Sword.”
Just like Shuren's. Seeing the deepened Taiji scar, he laughed.
“...Dad'll love this.”
Alan would freak, but in a corner of the Knight Faculty, Albert's private training room—this was unfolding.