Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Sword Empress (2)
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After going up to her residence with the Sword Empress.
On the first day as her disciple, I snapped my eyes open.
"Whoa."
The memory of the Sword Empress groping my entire body the previous day was still incredibly unsettling.
I immediately ran my hands over my body here and there, and it felt like her touch still lingered. Ugh.
- Hey now. Don't move so much. I'm just checking everything over.
- No. Ugh, your hands... they're too weird.
- Hmm? What are you talking about? I'm doing this out of pure goodwill. Can't you trust your master?
- It's not that. Ariel's glaring daggers...! Anyone could see it's a sleazy touch!
Thanks to that, Ariel was growling and shooting me terrified looks.
I'd told her to stay put, so she didn't do anything too extreme.
But every time the Sword Empress ran her hands over me, it felt like my vision was bleaching out in fear.
Even so, her touch on my body never faltered.
This woman had some serious steel nerves. Even shrugging off Ariel's aura.
Her verdict after thoroughly feeling me up was simple.
- Mm. That gives me a good idea.
- Of what?
- Your body's condition. I know what needs fixing now, so hit the sack.
- Ah. Okay.
She had this charming way of speaking gently like a big sister sometimes. I'd give her that much.
"Huuu..."
The air atop these lofty peaks was thin and frigid.
I straightened the blankets while facing the crisp morning mist that could jolt anyone awake on its own.
The Sword Empress's quarters were a stunning oriental-style pavilion, vast enough that even three people living there felt spacious.
For the record, Ariel and I shared a room, but my little sister was still out cold.
She'd always been weak in the mornings back at the estate too.
Beauties were heavy sleepers, after all, so I left her be and stepped out.
"Huu..."
I walked along, my breath fogging the air.
Here in the Sword Empress Pavilion, preparing the morning meal fell to me.
No real reason for it. She'd just declared it so.
- I can't cook to save my life. Good thing a disciple showed up—I can dump it on you.
And with that, she'd handed the entire kitchen over to me.
Honestly, it threw me for a loop. What kind of lunatic master saddles a brand-new boy disciple with cooking?
But when you're the one in need, you compromise.
I was the one begging for her tutelage. So I got to work without a peep.
Memories from my past life or this one offered zilch for Aonian cuisine.
Past life: modern Korea. This life: western fantasy.
As if I'd know squat about eastern fantasy cooking.
So I'd started out thinking whatever, but surprisingly, it wasn't half bad.
"Let's see. At least the hearth has magic on it."
The kitchen tools all had enchantments as standard.
Made sense, really. This was a world brimming with mana.
Not many folks cooked by hand alone.
Especially not the Sword Empress, single-handedly running this massive pavilion.
Thud thud thud—
Once I got the fire going in the hearth and started slicing veggies, my hands moved with eerie familiarity.
Incredible. Did I actually have a knack for this...?
Maybe Kline Leonhart was destined to be a chef, not a swordsman.
Shaking off the idle thoughts, I finished cooking and laid out breakfast.
"Yaaawn."
I headed to the spot she'd pointed out for meals and waited. In she strolled, yawning extravagantly.
"Whaaat's that? Smells amazing. Sniff sniff."
Whoa. Talk about defenseless. This woman.
She had on a yukata, but she moved so casually that the hem kept slipping open.
Which meant the chest area—hard to cover with that thin fabric—was flashing skin... No, don't stare. Rude.
"Hmm. Hey, didn't you set a plate for your sister?"
"Ah, Ariel won't eat. Total sleepyhead."
"Gotcha. Ooh... This is shockingly good. You ever done Aonian cooking before?"
"Nope. First time ever."
"No kidding? Wild. Looks better than mine."
"Eh? Figured living solo, you'd be a pro."
"What're you on about? I suck at cooking. Told you myself."
"Right, but... how'd you handle meals till now, then?"
"Oh, that?"
The Sword Empress propped her chin, flashing a smile.
Her soft "uhuhu" chuckle was downright womanly.
"I'd head to a restaurant. That's how I ran into you, remember?"
"Every single time? Not a hassle?"
"Eh? Yeah, kinda. Been bugging me lately—going down there too often."
"...Wait. Was that why you just sat there staring at your food back at the restaurant?"
"Yup. Couldn't decide: eat in or takeout."
Whoaaa.
This woman was straight-up unreliable.
Was she some sword-obsessed idiot who only knew blades?
"Anyway, let's eat? It's cooling off."
"Sure. Dig in."
She gripped her chopsticks and tore into the fish.
Curiously, the kitchen had been stocked with plenty of fish. Lake nearby, maybe.
All fresh and appetizing, so I'd grilled two. She seemed fascinated.
"Fish is grilled to perfection too... Hold up, why are you so good with chopsticks? You sure you've never been to Aonia?"
"Obviously. First time this life."
"Then how're you this slick?"
"Talent?"
"Hohoho. Talent, huh? Hard to argue with that."
Heh. No need to freak. Past life on the peninsula, after all.
Chopsticks? Piece of cake. Forks and knives felt awkward to me.
"Mmm. Ahh..."
The Sword Empress popped some fish in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Eyes closed in savoring bliss, she let out a drawn-out "Wooow."
"Wow... This is insanely good. How'd you nail it so hard? You cooked before?"
"Nah. First time this life too."
"Fair. A noble like you wouldn't bother. Hmm..."
The Sword Empress worked her chopsticks like a pro.
Fish bite, veggie scoop, rice spoonful, back to fish...
She polished off breakfast, then dropped a bomb.
"Hey, just become part of my family."
"Huh?"
"Losing a cooking whiz like you to some other girl? Total waste. I wanna keep you close and raise you myself. Thoughts?"
"No thanks. Pass."
"Oof. Shot down flat. Harsh."
No clue her exact age, but that was some thief-level greed.
I shot her a sulky look, but she just "uhuhu'd" away.
"Fine, whatever. Glad I dumped cooking on you anyway. From here on, you're handling meals for all three of us."
"Wait, me solo from now on?"
"Yup."
"What about training?"
"Squeeze it in."
"..."
Squeeze in cooking, sure—but training?
After breakfast, I trailed after the Sword Empress.
The pavilion grounds were choked with dense trees.
Pushing through them revealed a lake.
A brilliant blue expanse, glittering under the sun.
Its crystal-clear waters screamed purity.
"You catch the fish here?"
"Yup. Can't cook, but fishing's my hobby."
"Weird. Isn't cooking your own catch the dream after fishing?"
"Turns out bad taste kills the dream. Uhuhu."
Scary.
How abysmal was her cooking, really?
"Anyway. First lesson for you."
The Sword Empress padded toward the lake.
Fish swam carefree inside the transparent water.
She lunged her sword at one oblivious swimmer.
Swish!
The plain thrust missed clean.
It dodged and vanished as expected.
Crack!
But an ice tendril shot from her blade tip and snagged it.
The panicked fish thrashed to flee, but too late.
It froze solid into an ice sculpture—still alive—and she reeled it in.
"Well?"
"Huh? What about it?"
"Get the lesson?"
"..."
She into those Zen riddles or what?
Nah. No doubting the master.
Focus on soaking up her wisdom.
Think.
Lake trip, ice magic demo. Why?
"Environment's key?"
"Bingo. Sharp kid."
She ruffled my hair.
Trying to turn me into a big-sis fan? No dice—I was a little-sis guy...
"Your path as a magic swordsman? One-of-a-kind—no precedents. Rely on gut and experience alone. That's where stimuli come in."
"Stimuli, huh."
"Exactly. Take me—this lake's mine. Ice is water too, see? Manipulating water via ice to snag fish? Sparks new ideas."
"I see."
Got it.
Her teaching boiled down to this:
To forge your own magic, lean on your surroundings.
Way more efficient growth.
Hmm... But mine's light, not ice?
"So what's my spot?"
"Strongest light's right up there."
Her finger hooked the sun.
Aha.
Meditate in the sunlight for breakthroughs, got it.
"Sunbathing in thought should birth new spells easy. Bored after? Fish away."
"Sounds like you're angling for me to stock us."
"Duh. Kitchen full of fish makes your life easier, right?"
"Just to confirm... 'Fishing' means ice-spearing, not rods?"
"Yup. Then pile 'em in the kitchen. Surprisingly addictive."
"Won't they rot? You don't cook."
"Ice halts spoilage. No downside to stocking up."
"Whoaaa."
Suddenly got why Dad hated the idea of me apprenticing here.
This woman was bonkers.
And now I was her disciple.