Serena Yohayden (4)
Serena's thrust sliced through the air toward Zeke.
Even as the blade came within inches, Zeke's expression didn't change.
Swish.
Without so much as shifting his body, he simply moved his hand, slipping the violet flower into the path of Serena's swinging sword.
"Eek!"
Thinking Zeke would be seriously hurt if she continued, Serena flinched in shock and instinctively loosened her grip.
But momentum carried the sword through to the end.
BOOM!
The flower and blade collided fiercely.
Yet the thin stem of the violet showed not a single scratch.
The heavy recoil from the hilt nearly made Serena drop her sword. She gasped in astonishment.
"Wh-what is this…!"
"Don't loosen your grip all the way to the end. You'll get hurt."
"How…!!"
This can't be real!
Her entire worldview shattered in that moment.
She was so flustered she could barely speak, her body freezing up. She even forgot she was supposed to keep attacking.
"Not coming? Fine, I'll come to you."
As she hesitated, Zeke charged this time.
The violet at his fingertips flashed with a yo-yo-like purple sword gleam.
Beautiful…
The flower approached like a streak of light.
Serena felt like she was dreaming.
For a moment, she wondered if Zeke was one of those rare wizards.
But the swordsmanship he displayed was purely that of a swordsman.
A practical style with no wasted motion.
Every movement carried meaning.
Not a single glance, not a twitch of a finger was squandered.
Even to her, who knew nothing of his swordsmanship, it was breathtakingly elegant.
Compared to that, her own swordplay was child's play.
BOOM!
Each time he rushed in and swung the flower.
It clashed violently with her blade, then somehow darted straight for her throat.
The petals brushed her neck with a chilling whisper.
Chills ran down her spine.
One single petal felt like it could sever her head at any moment—a terrifying dread.
But Zeke just said,
"Again."
"Again."
"Again!"
His curt command. Each time, Serena gritted her teeth and charged, but
her sword never even grazed Zeke's clothes.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
After repeating this countless times, Serena's breath reached her limit.
Her body was drenched in cold sweat.
Flawlessly perfect,
utterly calculated,
endlessly ruthless swordsmanship.
Irresistible force.
This was a wall. No—a massive, sheer cliff.
One she'd have to gaze up at her whole life, even after endless training.
Now Serena had no choice but to realize it.
Zeke could touch her throat with that flower without ever clashing blades if he wanted.
He was only taking this form to teach her.
Even now, he was acting as her instructor.
So she couldn't just give up without a fight.
Serena clenched her teeth tight.
Forcing strength into her trembling hands from fear,
she shifted her weight to her toes and kicked off.
Zeke's face drew near.
Shoulder to elbow,
wrist to sword tip,
power built,
and the blade whipped out fiercely.
"Hah!!"
BOOM!!!
The flower and sword clashed once more.
Then,
CRACK—
Serena's sword snapped in half.
"Ah…."
As if seven years of effort crumbled in an instant.
She stared blankly at the broken half in her hand.
This… really can't be real…
She'd thought she knew Zeke was impressive.
Invited as a swordsmanship instructor at Lamieli Academy at his age.
She figured he was among the empire's elite.
That was why the lady of Yohayden Duke's house bowed so deeply to him.
But this transcended common sense. It was superhuman territory.
She'd thought living with him had given her some insight into the man,
but it was all illusion.
She knew nothing about Zeke.
Serena looked up at him with trembling eyes.
Seemingly deciding that was enough, Zeke let the flower drop from his hand.
The violet fluttered away on the night breeze, over the garden wall.
His face was impassive as ever.
"If a flower can stand against a sword, why think a rapier—far sturdier and sharper—can't?"
"……."
"Learn proper swordsmanship with a rapier in hand, and you won't be pushed back even against a fiercely swung bastard sword."
Yet Serena couldn't believe it—not him, but herself.
Her voice shook.
"That might just be because you're Instructor. C-can I… really do it like you…? No matter how I think about it, this isn't humanly possible."
"I'm human. So you can do it too. If you learn properly."
"……."
Instructor—no, Zeke Clayman… Just who are you…?
In the end, Serena could only nod.
*
With that, Zeke left Serena in the courtyard
and hurried back to his room alone, as if in a rush.
Moonlight indifferently lit the empty yard.
She still clutched the broken blade.
But
dominating her mind now was neither
the seven years of effort that crumbled like a sandcastle, nor the shattered sword—
but Zeke Clayman, Lamieli Academy's swordsmanship instructor.
Just who was he…? I know nothing about him…
Serena murmured unanswerable questions to herself,
gazing up at his room.
* * *
Thump—thump—
Zeke, who had ditched Serena outside and rushed back to his room.
He clutched his heart, body trembling.
His face reflected in the darkened window.
A mouth split into an eerie grin all the way to his ears.
His black eyes gleamed with murderous intent.
But like a fleeting illusion,
his face soon returned to its stoic blankness.
Fuck. Just a bit of swordplay and this shit again… About two seconds… Yeah, still way better than on Earth. Finally reaping the benefits of this body.
This body was inconvenient—expressionless, barely able to speak freely.
But that stone-like face even suppressed his own habits.
The truth was, Zeke Clayman
was already a broken man.
His usual facade showed no sign, but he was once bright and cheerful.
It clashed with the image of a man worn down after ten years in a dark fantasy world.
Zeke hadn't forgotten that past.
He'd just sealed it deep inside, all in one place.
That dark, gloomy abyss, endlessly sinking,
reared its head slyly whenever he held a sword.
Those ten hopeless years in the dark fantasy world had twisted his personality,
turning a normal young man into a blood-mad killer feared by enemies and allies alike.
In the Dave Continent, the deeper his despair grew,
the wider he grinned on the surface as he swung his blade.
What joy was there in a ruined world?
Just endless slaughter day after day—
the thrill of life-or-death combat was his only entertainment.
Balancing on the razor's edge of death was like a drug.
Enemies dreaded his approach,
and allies shunned the madman drenched in gore, grinning grotesquely.
After saving the Dave Continent
and returning to Earth, he'd struggled endlessly to reclaim a normal life.
Convinced he'd become a serial killer otherwise,
he finally set down the sword he'd never let go for ten years.
Without it, his bright personality slowly returned,
so he clung to that desperately.
He was relieved his bloodthirst wasn't overwhelming.
Thankfully, now at least with blunt objects,
he could control it like this.
Of course, using swordsmanship had triggered it briefly.
Yeah… This much, I can handle training at the academy. Just don't use swordsmanship or hold a real blade. No need to wield one while teaching.
Zeke swallowed hard, soothing the faint lingering thirst.
* * *
Please… end it quick…
If you're gonna kill me… do it fast…
Just kill me…
Quick…
Please!
The next morning, Zeke was bewildered by the servants who burst into his room at dawn.
They swarmed him, grabbing him to wash, oil his hair, powder his face.
Now they were dressing him like a doll in gaudy clothes.
Even white gloves on his hands—uncomfortable.
This torment had dragged on for hours already.
Caught off guard amid his flustered protests.
What the hell!?
A baggy white shirt loaded with frills, a fluttering cravat like a bib.
Over it, a bright blue suit dripping with gold braid.
What is this…? So damn stuffy and complicated! Is this really cool? If I go out like this, I'm just begging to be a laughingstock.
Unaccustomed to romance fantasy world's fashion,
this flashy attire was utterly baffling.
His usual military uniform was at least neat and sturdy,
but this looked like the capital's top clown.
"You look so handsome!"
"Right? We didn't realize since you never dressed up, but with your hair styled up, you exude such elegance!"
"And that decadent charm… slurp."
"Hey, don't even think about it. You'll get in trouble."
The maids whispered praises among themselves,
but Zeke in the mirror still looked baffled.
Can't even take this off alone.
Knock knock—
Then, a knock from behind, and the dressing room door opened.
"……."
Click-clack—
Click-clack—
Serena, in a light purple dress, entered slowly.
Or rather, she walked normally,
but to Zeke, she moved in slow motion.
Everything but her blurred.
Her sparkling silver hair made her look like a fairy from a picture book—dazzlingly beautiful and graceful.
In truth, Serena usually wore simple, clean designs.
But today, for the entrance ceremony, she'd gone all out.
Oh, pretty.
"I-Instructor!"
Serena spotted him, paused, then called with an awkward smile.
After utterly dismantling her last night and humiliating her with a flower,
he'd worried how to face her today,
but she seemed to be the one concerned for him.
…Yeah, I went too hard yesterday. Needed to break her sword once properly, but… still too much. She must've trained her ass off all this time.
Even now, seeing her trembling and stuttering but pretending it was fine made him feel guilty.
They say don't hit girls even with a fist. Whipped her with a flower yesterday, and she's still this sweet. Angel—no, goddess material. Right, body? Gotta say her beauty's on fire today.
"Suits you."
This body, which couldn't usually utter such cringy lines,
opened up today as if acknowledging her beauty.
"Eep! R-really? Instructor, you look great too!"
"…I see… So this getup is actually cool…"
"Uh, um? D-does it not suit you?"
"No, it's fine. First time wearing something like this."
"Ah, yeah… You're always in uniform, so it must feel weird. You'll wear this a lot at the academy. No—wear it often!"
Zeke's face hardened. Hard to tell on his stoic mug.
This? Often? Wear it?
* * *
Serena had to compose her pounding heart before the dressing room door.
Whew, Serena Yohayden. Yeah. It's fine. Natural. Be natural.
She hadn't slept a wink after last night's spar.
Doubts about her swordsmanship and thoughts of the enigma Zeke Clayman had kept her up all night.
But hope had bloomed too.
Until now, she'd walked the sword's path alone, without a master.
Was she on the right track? Bad habits? Too late?
Those worries drove her to the academy.
And she'd found an overwhelming master. A swordsman so far beyond her.
Who he was, his past… she didn't care anymore.
Honestly, just a tiny bit?
Like, a smidge?
Since he'd be her master?
She was curious, sure,
but more than that, the thrill of learning from him,
of wielding such swordsmanship herself.
Even with the rapier condition.
She'd resisted at first, but after witnessing his "violet swordsmanship," she had no qualms.
Pfft.
One person bringing despair and hope.
The irony made her chuckle.
After seeing such beauty and dominance,
she couldn't view Zeke the same way.
She'd just gotten used to that cold, stiff face,
and now knowing how truly amazing he was,
he intimidated her anew.
"Natural. Natural."
"Lady Serena. Aren't you going in?"
"I-I am!"
Eily, adjusting her dress, asked.
Knock knock—
Creeeak—
Serena's breath caught.
Oh. Shit.
And the world stopped.