The New Routine #2
“Pleasure meeting you, Lucian!”
The next day, during the introductory swordsmanship class, the opponent assigned to me was Raoul.
His expression looked as if he was fighting me instead of Rie—pure excitement.
It seemed like he believed that as Rie's rival, he had to earn my recognition before even facing Rie.
*Hold on. I don't have time for this right now. My nose is so itchy I can barely stand it.*
On top of that, Raoul's gaze wasn't the only one pressing down on me today.
Every time we traded practice cuts and took a brief break, I could feel eyes fixed on me.
My classmates were clearly stimulated by the realization that even a literary student could handle this, but for me it was genuinely frustrating.
Not only did their stares come at me, but Professor Staffen was also subtly watching.
He seemed to be waiting for me to surprise him again with some new growth.
Somehow, I had become the most anticipated promising student in the first-year literary division.
I already knew this would happen because Rie and I had discussed it beforehand.
But I couldn't let that envious gaze continue forever, so I had to train even harder.
The problem, however, was that my body still had too many flaws.
“Hoop!”
After a few exchanges, just like yesterday's grueling practice, I swung my sword with full power.
I dodged Raoul's attack by the narrowest margin and immediately aimed a counter at his shoulder.
With Forbes it would have been different—he might have evaded or taken the hit on his arm since he was a martial student.
But Raoul didn't have the skill to pull that off, so he took the blow to the shoulder.
*Thud!!*
“Ugh!”
Even with protective gear, the neck guard was more like a blunt weapon than a sharp one.
The impact traveled straight through to his body, forcing Raoul to grab his own shoulder and step back.
After that, he raised both hands slightly, as if acknowledging defeat.
“I lost. Really different from before, Lucian? Back then it felt like I was completely struggling.”
“Still struggling now. And a lot. You're still far away.”
“Modesty. You're clearly different from before. I've clashed with you a few times already—I'd notice if you were that clueless. I'm not that dumb.”
Raoul said that, then gripped his sword again and offered a final request.
From then on, every match against Raoul ended the same way.
After a few exchanges, I landed a decisive blow that hit his shoulder, leg, or arm, and he conceded defeat.
It was clear I'd improved since before.
Back then I could barely swing a sword, let alone block it.
Thanks to Rie, I had finally broken through the initial “path” and could now confidently use a sword and defend myself.
But swordsmanship wasn't just about blocking—everything still came down to a single strike.
“Wait a second, Lucian.”
After class ended and I was about to leave the training ground, Professor Staffen caught my arm.
Students had never seen a teacher stop a classmate after class, so they shot me curious glances before all disappearing into the practice field.
“Does this mean there's another lecture later?”
“No, none.”
“Then could you spare a little time?”
“Of course, Professor.”
He had always given me the right kind of advice before, so he wasn't trying to scold me.
I stood quietly in front of him, waiting.
Professor Staffen extended his neck guard toward me.
At the same time, he gripped his own and stood a dozen paces away.
“I watched your match with Raoul earlier. I have a few things I want to tell you about it. Is that all right, Lucian?”
“Of course. Your advice is always welcome.”
“Thank you for saying that. Let's try it the same way we did against Raoul.”
Almost as soon as our conversation ended, Professor Staffen charged forward like a bolt of lightning.
I flinched so hard I almost screamed—I hadn't realized how fast he was.
I barely managed to swing my sword and block the attack, thanks to the experience with Rie.
But blocking didn't make me happy at all.
Cold sweat ran down my back.
Professor Staffen had poured everything into that charge.
He hadn't gone all-out physically, but the determination in his neck guard was unmistakable—he meant to crack my skull.
The prickling feeling on my skin and the way every hair stood on end reminded me of the day my sister had shown me what a real sword swing looked like.
*Whoosh! Whoosh! Wham!!*
After that, Professor Staffen matched Raoul's exact speed and swung his sword.
The precise movements were so clear in my mind that I could picture exactly where to block and how to counter from which angle.
Then, when he turned for the next attack—the moment I usually used to press the advantage I had against Forbes and Raoul—
*...Huh?*
A sudden bad feeling swept over me.
At the same time, a completely new situation that I had never imagined before flashed before my eyes.
The man in front of me was perfectly deceiving me, faking his movements to lure my attack in, then closing in at the last second.
*Thud.*
The tip of his sword pressed right against my throat.
If this had been a real sword, I would have been rolling around headless.
I quietly lowered my own sword, stepped back, and bowed my head.
“I lost, Professor.”
Professor Staffen nodded with an expressionless face.
He had won, yet his expression was far from pleased. I could see him deep in thought.
It looked like he had something to say. I waited quietly.
After a moment, he pointed at the neck guard I was still holding and spoke.
“A person skilled in attack can defend easily, but someone skilled only in defense finds it hard to attack. Do you know why Lebechia always takes the initiative?”
“Yes. If you focus only on defense, your mind and body eventually stiffen and lose flexibility.”
“Correct. So Lebechia would rather claim the honor of being the attacker rather than give up the flow itself. The saying that offense is the best defense wasn't spoken lightly, Lucian.”
“...”
“Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”
I nodded.
I had been so focused on defense and the next incoming attack that I had missed the opponent's trickery for just a second.
That missed moment had cost me the match.
If this had been a real battle instead of a practice, I didn't even want to imagine it.
Thinking about how a single instant decides everything in combat, even if I lost more than half the fight from the start, it would have been acceptable.
“I have no intention of demanding the impossible. From what I've seen of your growth, Lucian, you're actually doing too well. I only hope you'll understand how, as a professor and educator, I can't help but feel the desire to see you push further.”
“Of course, Professor. I came to the academy to learn, so I'm ready to listen to anything.”
Professor Staffen wasn't a pompous old man like Professor Eggmas, nor did he live off his own ego, so it was always a good thing for me.
“If you follow the opponent's attack too closely, you'll end up doing exactly what they want. Even if it's difficult, you shouldn't just focus on defense—you have to advance with offense. Instead of using defense to replace attack, think of attack as replacing defense.”
“…Rie and I have been discussing this too.”
“A student like Rie would have spotted your weaknesses and limits faster than I did. Just because I told you to watch doesn't mean you should stop practicing.”
Professor Staffen stepped closer and patted my shoulder encouragingly.
As I had said before, don't rush. Since the next head of the Deodur family is deeply experienced in swordsmanship, I should be able to do well too.
After the light sparring session with Professor Staffen, I headed back to the place where I usually trained with Rie.
Lately it felt like I was just swinging my body around with no time for a single book or letter.
But when I felt a sense of something missing, I had to push myself harder until my body and hands became familiar with it.
“Late today, huh?”
Rie looked like she had been practicing again—sweat still beading on her forehead.
She had been watching me quietly, then slipped up beside me as if she had figured something out.
“Is something wrong?”
“I had a light sparring match with Professor Staffen.”
“Of course you lost, right?”
“Of course.”
Professor Staffen was a far stronger opponent than Forbes.
He was the academy's swordsmanship professor, the one responsible for laying the foundation in the first-year class.
It was only fair that I couldn't compare him to Forbes' flashy style.
“Don’t worry about it. Right now, Lucian, you're still in a difficult spot.”
“I'm not saying that because I lost. It's just that I feel the limits of my own method. Real defense I can manage, but I have no idea how to start an attack or how to end it.”
At least blocking the opponent's attack was visible and clear in my mind.
If I clenched my teeth and moved my sword once and twisted my body once, it would have been enough.
But attacking required far more complex methods, and I couldn't stop after one strike—I had to continue all the way to the next attack, which made my body struggle even harder.
“…That's why I really miss my sister when this happens.”
“I've seen her from a distance before. She pinned down all those knights who thought they could handle her aggressive swordsmanship.”
“It's true, she talked a lot because of that. Rie, you know how scary my sister is.”
“Was it scary? From what I remember, she seemed really nice.”
“It can be nice, then suddenly scary. Especially when she's holding a sword.”
“I don't know. Anyway, she's the first high-ranking knight to come out of the Deodur family, right? I heard she's still on duty near the border.”
“…How did you know that?”
I wasn't a Deodur family member, and I didn't know my sister was on the border.
When I asked, Rie said, “Oh, it's because I overheard the knights from the Haniel family…!” but quickly shut her mouth.
Then she gave a very unlikely reason: “I heard it from the Haniel family knights!”
“…Anyway, when I watch my sister swing her sword, I just think ‘wow’ without knowing anything, but actually doing it myself, I realize how difficult offense really is.”
“Some people think it’s just about slashing and thrusting, but once you pick up a sword, it’s completely different. The moment the attack misses or gets blocked, you become helpless.”
At some point, Rie and I ended up squatting together in the training ground, talking.
First, I wanted to get more comfortable with handling a sword, and then we would move on to offense.
Since there was no other answer, I nodded.
“Ah, by the way, Rie… um, I’m saying this because you’re you.”
“Yes. What is it?”
“My sister said she’s returning from the border.”
“Already? I thought it would take at least a year.”
“She said she received orders and was reassigned to a new post.”
“Where? Is it the royal palace?”
Rie’s question carried hope.
I slowly shook my head.
Then I pointed downward with my hand.
“…What?”
“It’s been assigned here. To Minerva Academy. As a swordsmanship instructor, even.”
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