A Slightly Changed Daily Life
Life had changed, if only a little. After that promise with his childhood friend who loved throwing tantrums, time flew by in a blur.
Edgar had grown quite accustomed to castle life by now. He had also become close with Leonel and Enya, who lived under the same roof. It was still a shame that he hadn’t yet fulfilled the promise from back then, but he believed an opportunity would come eventually and never slackened in pushing himself to improve.
Clack. Thwack.
Just like any other early morning, sharp sounds echoed through the rear courtyard of the grand duchy. The source was the grassy field where Creed and Edgar were deep in their daily sparring—a scene that had become routine ever since Edgar’s arrival.
Though the difference in their physiques was nearly double, Edgar refused to yield. He faced the older man head-on with unflinching resolve.
Several onlookers watched from the side: Leonel and Enya, their housemates, along with a few of the duchy’s private soldiers who had gathered to observe. Their gazes weren’t those of adults watching children at play; they carried a surprising weight of seriousness.
“Hup!”
“Still too slow! Move more efficiently!”
At Creed’s sharp rebuke, Edgar accelerated, barely knocking aside the wooden sword thrusting toward his chest. But as Creed withdrew the blade, he suddenly changed trajectory, swinging down at Edgar’s right shoulder from above.
“……!”
Edgar’s arm was already raised from parrying the previous strike. He realized he was a beat too late. Counterattacking now felt awkward, especially since his opponent had initiated the swing first, giving it superior speed.
No. That’s not it.
The moment the thought crystallized, Edgar’s hand moved faster than conscious thought, slashing his sword downward. This will work. His instincts, honed through countless swings, told him so.
Even as he swung, he twisted his body sharply to the left, trying to slip outside the arc of the descending blow aimed at his shoulder. The wooden blades sliced through the air with a vicious whistle, about to cross—when Creed’s hand suddenly froze.
Thud!
Edgar’s wooden sword struck Creed squarely in the chest. At the same time, Creed’s blade, which had been aiming for Edgar’s shoulder, stopped short. Their exchange ended there.
Edgar blinked in confusion at the abrupt halt. He looked up at the man who stood more than a head taller than him. Creed met his gaze with a wide grin and grasped the wooden sword still pressed against his chest.
“That’s enough for today. That last strike was an excellent decision.”
“Ah, thank you for the training!”
Creed was not a man who gave praise lightly. The fact that he looked so satisfied while commending that final blow meant it had truly been a sharp, well-timed strike. Edgar stared at him in a daze for a moment before belatedly bowing deeply in gratitude.
“Whoa! Edgar, that last attack was seriously amazing! Right, Enya?”
“Y-yes… I don’t know much about swordsmanship, but… it looked incredibly sharp.”
Leonel, who had been watching the high-level spar from the sidelines, ran over first and showered Edgar with praise that made his face burn. Enya, though an outsider to this field, had also found the recent exchange impressive and nodded in agreement with Leonel.
“Thanks. If you two are saying that, I guess it wasn’t bad.”
Truthfully, even Edgar hadn’t consciously planned that final strike. It was as if his body had moved before his mind could catch up. If he had only tried to dodge in that moment, Creed would have reacted and followed through anyway. A counterattack shouldn’t have been possible in terms of timing.
Yet the reason he had been certain it would land was the difference he had noticed at the very last second: Creed’s larger build and greater height. Assuming both swung from above to below, Edgar’s sword would reach its target fractionally faster.
Of course, that ignored factors like raw strength. And in that split second, he hadn’t been thinking through any of it logically. Before he could even fully compare their sizes, the conviction that the strike would land had already surged through him, and his sword had followed.
Even I have to admit it’s strange.
Edgar kept clenching and unclenching his fist, still replaying that peculiar sensation. Perhaps it was proof that his skills had truly risen. It seemed all those days of training hadn’t been in vain.
“Wow! You’re incredible, Edgar!”
“Good work. Why don’t you come over and have a snack?”
The private soldiers of House Robeheim, who had been watching from a distance, whistled and cheered, praising his martial prowess. For nearly half a year now, Edgar had sparred with Creed every single morning. These soldiers had made it part of their own routine to watch the bouts whenever they could, quietly observing his growth the entire time.
The boy who used to be sent flying after only a few exchanges with Creed had now reached the point of landing clean hits. It was growth that defied imagination. Lately, the soldiers who frequently watched their sessions had even started joking—half in jest, half in earnest—that Edgar might soon threaten their own positions.
“I’m not stealing the breakfast that you uncles should be eating, am I?”
Edgar approached the soldiers with a cheeky grin and accepted the dried meat they offered. It had been seasoned with spices, giving it a pleasantly spicy flavor.
Did they make this themselves?
If so, he should learn the recipe next time. If it was something they bought, he ought to find out where. With that thought, he reached for a second piece.
“Hey, kid. The age gap isn’t that big. Call me ‘hyung.’”
“Come on, you’re in your mid-thirties. Doesn’t ‘hyung’ feel a bit off?”
“This kid never loses an argument, does he?”
When the man raised both hands in exaggerated surrender, Edgar chuckled and plopped down on the grass, joining their conversation. He hadn’t been here very long, but he was glad he had grown so close with those around him. Most people—excluding the high officials living in the castle—were kind to him and his friends. Above all, they all seemed like good people, which put his mind at ease.
“Man, at this rate you could join the guard. Don’t you think, Rafel?”
“Honestly, the guard feels too small for this guy. Looking at how fast he’s improving, he’s going to go far.”
“Thank you for the kind words.”
In truth, Edgar had no intention of stopping at the level of a mere guard. His goal lay much higher.
It’s still so far away.
Edgar gazed toward the balcony where Ariel’s quarters were and gave a bitter smile. He had visited several times since then, but he still felt nowhere near ready to pass through those gates with his head held high and enter her room openly. There was no need to rush, yet he couldn’t afford to be complacent either. No one knew better than he did how short the patience of that spoiled young lady truly was.
“Speaking of which, the lord is taking quite a while this time.”
“Tell me about it. The resistance from those bastards is unusually fierce this round.”
Edgar, who had been staring at the balcony, pricked up his ears at the conversation behind him. Even after nearly six months here, he had yet to catch even a glimpse of the Robeheim family head—Ariel’s father. His curiosity was inevitable.
“What kind of person is the lord here?”
“The lord? Edgar, you’ve never seen him even once since you arrived?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Edgar shrugged as if it were no big deal. Normally one would at least spot him from afar, yet for some reason he had never laid eyes on the man. It was almost as if someone was deliberately preventing it.
“If I had to describe him, I’d say he’s the very embodiment of integrity.”
“The type who would break before he bends… Just looking at him would make your legs go weak.”
At the soldiers’ words, Edgar let out a low hum and fell into thought. He could roughly picture the man now. Physically similar to Creed in build, but with a completely opposite personality. Strong facial features, a rigid way of speaking, minimal change in expression—an aura so intense it could steal your breath. Regardless of his actual character, he certainly seemed like the difficult-to-approach type based on appearance alone.
However, since Helene had once mentioned that Ariel took after her father in temperament, his personality might turn out to be surprisingly different from expectations.
He was in the middle of chatting with the soldiers, thinking they would meet someday, when Creed—who had been sparring with Leonel and Enya in the distance—caught his eye and suddenly jerked his head backward.
What’s going on? Looks like I can see her.
It was a signal the two of them had developed over the past six months of frequent time together. It meant Ariel wants to meet.
It seemed his extremely busy childhood friend had finally found a bit of free time today. In that case, he should go entertain her.
Edgar rose lightly to his feet and brushed the grass from his backside. Rafel, who had been watching, paused mid-chew on his dried meat and spoke with a puzzled tone.
“Busy today?”
Edgar usually lingered to chat longer, so his unusually quick departure stood out. The boy who normally spent his time in a somewhat lonely, old-mannish way—what was the occasion?
“Yes, I have someone I need to meet.”
“Someone you need to meet?”
“Oh, is it that?”
In contrast to Rafel’s confusion, another soldier grinned slyly and raised his pinky finger. Edgar let out a small laugh and shrugged as if to say, As if.
“It’s a girl, right?”
“Well… yes?”
“Oho, you rascal. She must be pretty, huh?”
How shocked would these men be if they knew the person Edgar was about to meet was the only daughter of the family they served? Part of him wanted to tease them with the truth, but he knew better than to do so. Instead, he swallowed the words and offered an ambiguous smile.
He picked up the wooden sword that had fallen to the ground, slid it into his belt, and tossed out one last remark.
“I’m not sure about pretty, but she is rather cute.”
Behind him came a chorus of “Ooh—!” along with comments about how he clearly had feelings for her, but he ignored them and headed toward the residence. If he told Ariel about this conversation, she would probably beat him to death. Still, her reaction might be amusing, so using it as teasing material once today wouldn’t be so bad.
This should be fun.
Already excited at the thought of teasing his childhood friend, Edgar’s steps grew noticeably lighter.