Swordsmanship Training (1)
“You look tired. Did something happen yesterday?”
Early in the morning, as Chiron was heading out for work, he asked Sisilia at the front gate.
“Slept in.”
“Even on vacation, you can't get too lazy. Diligence is lifeblood for a knight.”
Chiron spoke sternly, but not as firmly as usual.
'He even came out to greet me on his way to work. How thoughtful.' Chiron was quietly touched by such things.
“Shopping again today?”
“Today I'm teaching Betty swordsmanship.”
Chiron's eyes lit up.
“No special schedule today, so I'll help.”
Sisilia opened her half-lidded eyes and said firmly.
“It's fine.”
“I see...”
Chiron sounded a bit disappointed. But before boarding the carriage, he asked once more.
“You sure you don't need me?”
“Don't need you.”
Sisilia pushed Chiron's back. He had no choice but to climb into the carriage.
As the carriage departed, Sisilia grinned.
'Now it's my world.'
No tiger in the tiger's den? The fox is king. Sisilia was the coolest white fox in the world.
She'd even come out to greet him just to savor this moment.
She turned around. The maids stood in neat rows, awaiting orders.
With Chiron gone, Sisilia was top dog.
Her small shoulders lifted a good five centimeters.
“Miss, what first?”
“Shall I give you a massage?”
“How about a tea party? If you say the word, all the young ladies making waves in high society will come running!”
“Really?”
“Of course! Just the invitations for you are too many to sort properly.”
The maids giggled. Sisilia's eager face was just too cute.
'Hmm. That doesn't sound bad at all...'
Sisilia liked noble ladies. Spending all day with the sweaty knights made them irresistible.
But today, there was something more important.
She'd even put off the simple task of slaying the Demon King for this moment.
To show Beatrice the 'perfect Sword Princess.'
“Important business today?”
“Yeah. Beatrice is coming over. New knight I've gotten close to lately.”
“...!”
The maids' playful eyes sharpened in an instant.
'Sisilia made a friend!'
'A friend's coming!'
'Historic day!'
“You all have to help.”
The fierce maids drew their weapons in unison. Brooms, dusters, mops gleamed menacingly.
“What first?”
'A bit scary, but... I'll do my best. Gotta get strong to help Sisilia.'
Beatrice stood tensely before Chiron's mansion.
She knocked, and a maid sweeping leaves approached.
“What can I do for you?”
“Um... I'm Beatrice. I have an appointment today. N-new recruit in the Windsor Knights...”
The friendly maid's eyes widened.
“One moment, please.”
“Y-yes.”
Oddly solemn reaction, but Beatrice waited patiently.
Soon the door opened, and she entered.
“What a splendid mansion.”
“Of course. This is the home of Captain Chiron of the Windsor Knights—who'll be a duke upon retirement.”
Head maid Mari brimmed with pride.
'Heard Sisilia's his adopted daughter. Even without high knight status, huge gap.'
And this mansion would be Sisilia's inheritance.
'Thought she overspent, but she's frugal. When can I afford something like this?'
Probably never, even saving forever... Beatrice walked on sadly.
“Where's Sisilia?”
“Probably rolling around like a kitten...”
A maid beside her paled and poked Mari's side.
'Head maid! The concept, the concept!'
Mari realized her slip, eyes bulging. Unprofessional.
“...No way. Sisilia lives by the minute, true to her Sword Princess title.”
“I see. Just like the Sisilia I imagined.”
Beatrice nodded.
“She's training now. Normally we'd greet you, but she's so diligent—please forgive.”
“No, it's fine. I'm here to learn swordsmanship... and don't deserve such welcome.”
“Pardon, but before Windsor, were you a lady of some house?”
“Schwarzfeder. Tiny rural barony in the west—you probably haven't heard.”
'Pureblood.'
'Pureblood. Perfect playmate for miss.'
Mari was thrilled, warming up.
“Schwarzfeder's a fine house. No traitors, no tax dodgers—true nobility.”
“Th-thank you...?”
'We're too small for that stuff.'
Rebellion needs power, evasion needs money. Schwarzfeder barony was dirt poor.
“This is Sisilia's training hall.”
Behind the mansion, a ridiculously spacious detached cabin.
“She trains here...?”
“Yes, of course.”
Mari hid that it was a storage shed an hour ago, cleaned in a sweat.
“Up at 4 a.m., dew for throat, always here till 9 a.m. sword practice.”
“4 a.m.? When does she sleep?”
“10 p.m.... no, 1 a.m. Processes paperwork after work.”
“My god.”
Mari wiped nonexistent sweat.
“Sigh, so worrying. Paperwork she could delegate...”
Subtle hint. Beatrice clenched her fist.
“Don't worry. I'll join her squad, handle all that crap. No wonder she hasn't grown.”
“...”
Wrong. Sisilia slept at 10 sharp, drank a liter of milk daily. Not for height, other assets.
'Anyway, miss's orders done. Now her time.'
Mari swallowed, opening the shed—er, training hall door.
Creak.
Slowly opening. Beatrice breathed deep.
“Keep what you see secret, but if your mouth itches, spread a little rumor.”
“...Pardon?”
“There.”
Last 'order' done, Mari backed away, bowing quietly.
'...Which way?'
Beatrice flustered, but stepped over threshold resolutely.
Eerie vibe. Sunbeams through cracks danced on dust motes. Vast rectangular space.
Center: Sisilia knelt demurely, wooden sword on thigh. Hair tied tight, white blouse, long navy skirt—unlike her usual knee-length shorts. Black stockings, not white. Solemn, refined.
“...”
Beatrice swallowed, overwhelmed by Sisilia's aura.
'This is the Sword Princess.'
Rumored before meeting: noble, elegant sword incarnate.
-Why's her title Sword Princess?
-Pretty, but... not what I pictured.
-Berserker fits better.
-Berserker. Lmao! Perfect.
Now she had comeback fodder for rookies.
“S-Sisilia...?”
“Twice.”
Sisilia half-opened eyes, voice soft. Silver gaze flicked coldly.
“Betty just died to me twice.”
“...!”
“Swordsmanship basic one: gauge opponent's range.”
'Training started already.'
Beatrice stepped back five paces, serious.
Sisilia rose leisurely, half-turned.
“Range good?”
“...Yes.”
Unsure words, Sisilia lunged.
'Just sword training.'
No aura use. Weight forward, block with wooden sword guard. Her build advantage—Sisilia loses balance.
Executed perfectly. Distance let her pin stably.
Or so she thought.
Bang—!
Screee—!
“Guhk.”
Beatrice bounced off wall, clutching gut, heaving nothing. Ears rang, vision spun knockout-style. But stood desperately.
Cornered, escaping—Sisilia charged again.
'Block this time. High!'
High guard up. But Sisilia retracted, roundhouse to gut from below.
“Hahk...!”
Floated midair, crashed, curled fetal. Drool leaked, unwipable. Gut agony. No breath. Air starved, mind fogged.
“Basic two: maximize build.”
Sisilia chin up coolly, foot on Beatrice's head.
Touch revealed: powerful aura surging inside Sisilia.
'Aura internal, boosting build...'
“Essential for girl knights like us—raise absolute mass.”
Sisilia kicked gut again. Beatrice slid, tumbled.
Clutching belly, shuddering, face mess. Every fluid emptied.
“Basic three: target weak spots relentlessly.”
Sisilia shouldered wooden sword casually.
“Start with mass? You're too light now. Again... Huh.”
Sisilia blinked. Beatrice passed out.
“...”
Sisilia knelt neatly before her, lips quirking.
'Hope she wakes soon.'
Wait patiently till then. Hehe.