Chapter 3: I Became the Royal Family's Sandbag (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 3: I Became the Royal Family's Sandbag (3)
If I had to describe the current situation in one word, "checkmate" would probably be the most fitting.
"Draw your sword."
The face of the person glaring at me was very familiar.
Though this was my first time seeing her in person, after being selected as a royal instructor, her face was the thing I’d studied most—second only to the techniques of the Defeat Sword.
Princess Hestia.
Among the ten members of the royalty, she possessed a talent that ranked within the top three in terms of swordsmanship alone.
At the same time, she was the most blunt and informal person in the entire royal family.
Thanks to that, she received much attention and affection from many, but she was also a constant source of anxiety and worry for people like the Captain.
Notable facts about her included the King once sighing and wondering who would ever take her off his hands, and her previous instructor submitting his resignation multiple times, only to have it rejected every single time.
Since she was one of the two biggest troublemakers alongside the 3rd Prince, the information about Princess Hestia was burned into my memory.
When I first read her file, I thought, 'Ah, I should definitely avoid this person!'
So why was she the one coming to pick a fight with me?
I couldn't even decline. This was the kind of thing I’d only experienced with Pokémon trainers in my past life!
'Save me!'
I shot a silent, desperate look at the Captain, but the damn man just shook his head as if he found the situation unfortunate.
I was screwed.
I was about to fight a certified prodigy in a country known as the Kingdom of Knights.
I would have preferred to just lose and get it over with, but...
"I cannot entrust my brother to someone who cannot even satisfy my standards."
With a fierce glare, she declared that she wouldn't recognize my position as an instructor if my skills were lacking.
I looked at the Captain again, but he avoided my gaze once more.
That damn old man.
Left with no choice, I had to raise my sword.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
A bloodlust so thick it felt like she might cut me down right then and there.
In my past life, she’d be around the age of a middle schooler. It felt absurd, but then again, considering the news stories about juvenile delinquents back home, maybe it wasn't that far-fetched.
If kids like that were born in a fantasy world, at least one of them would end up like our Princess.
The problem was that I was the one who had to deal with this crazy person.
"Ready."
Tears threatened to well up, and my grip on the wooden sword tightened. Unaware of my plight—or perhaps ignoring it—the referee didn't try to stop the fight; instead, he seemed to be egging it on.
Well, he was probably just following orders, but from my perspective, it was incredibly annoying.
"Begin!"
The moment the command was given, the Princess charged like a maniac, leaving me no time to worry about anything else.
"Hup."
With a short intake of breath, her wooden sword unleashed a barrage of strikes.
I vaguely recalled hearing in health class in my past life that girls grew faster than boys at this age.
Even setting that aside, I knew she was older than me, but the sheer weight of her blows—heavier than most men's—startled me.
As I barely managed to block her attacks, I caught sight of the Princess's eyes and was startled once again.
"You're blocking well!"
Holy crap, she’s insane.
I knew she wasn't normal the moment she called me out for a fight upon our first meeting, but seeing her with a sword made me realize that her earlier behavior was actually quite tame.
"Let's see if you can block this too!"
"Wait, isn't this a bit much...?!"
A reddish glow began to coalesce around Princess Hestia's wooden sword.
It was faint, but it was definitely mana.
She truly was the prodigy the Kingdom recognized, but at the same time, it seemed all her talent had gone into combat, leaving her lacking in other areas.
Does this woman not realize why we're using wooden swords?
"Haah!"
I suddenly remembered a manga from my past life where the protagonist hit people over the head with a reverse-blade sword and claimed it wasn't killing because he used the back of the blade.
We were given wooden swords for a safe spar, and she’s infusing hers with mana?
If our swords clashed, mine would turn into kindling, and if I got hit, I’d end up as A/dam—literally split in two. It was a dire situation.
"Do you have no pride?!"
Because I quickly rolled across the ground to dodge the clash, she hurled an insult at me.
This was so unfair.
It might not have been knightly behavior, but shouldn't I prioritize staying alive first?
"Die honorably!"
"..."
Excuse me, this is a spar.
The words were at the tip of my tongue, but my duties as an instructor included not talking back to royalty.
In times like this, was I supposed to just cater to her mood? As expected of the Prince's education method. The underdog just had to keep his mouth shut.
—What if the Prince is even stronger than you expected? You're asking the obvious.
I recalled the Captain's words as I watched the Princess charge at me again.
—Let your talent explode!
—...
—You can do it!
Seriously, that man is useless.
What good is being a high-ranking official in the Kingdom and a renowned swordsman on the continent?
He’s of no help to me.
Despite those thoughts, I gritted my teeth and raised my sword.
Fine, I’m in another world now.
Maybe I actually have a hidden talent I didn't know about!
Explode, my talent!
"Hup!"
Taking a deep breath, I took a stance and swung my sword.
One of the promised postures of defeat engraved in the Defeat Sword style.
The art of losing while fighting fair and square.
The problem was that my opponent was overwhelmingly stronger than me, but if I were the protagonist, wouldn't things work out somehow?
"Ah."
As I watched my talent explode... no, as I watched the fragments of my wooden sword explode, I became certain that I was not the protagonist.
*
Watching the wooden shards scatter and dance in the air, Hestia finally came to her senses.
'I messed up!'
To be honest, he had passed the test long ago.
Even among those whose talent was recognized by the Kingdom, many couldn't last ten exchanges against her.
In such a situation, a boy two years younger than her—the same age as her brother—had already endured ten exchanges.
That alone was enough for him to pass, but he had even managed to endure through optimal movements when she got a bit excited and infused her blade with mana.
Her criticism of him rolling on the ground was just a momentary outburst because her attack had missed.
In fact, she had been impressed by his determination to do whatever it took to win.
While some nobles might look down on someone gritting their teeth and struggling to win despite an overwhelming gap in power, Hestia was not one of them.
That was why she had given it her all.
To Hestia, giving her best to someone else who was doing the same was the ultimate form of respect.
As the exchanges continued and her opponent kept enduring, her stubbornness flared up.
Let's see if you can handle this. Oh? How about this, then?
After repeating that a few more times, she had ended up attacking with her full strength.
"..."
And the result was the disaster before her eyes.
Fragments of the wooden sword littered the ground.
And the sight of blood trickling from where a shard had embedded itself in his neck was enough to traumatize an ordinary person.
Of course, this was the place called the Kingdom of Knights, so it wasn't entirely shocking.
Accidents during training or sparring were common occurrences.
However, that was only excusable when it happened between opponents of similar skill levels.
In this situation, anyone could see that she had used her authority to pressure a younger prospect into a fight (true), forced him into a one-sided beating (true), and even infused her sword with mana to cause a bloody injury (also true).
"..."
Hestia couldn't move, even as the boy lay twitching on the ground and urgent voices rose around her.
It was partly because she realized that, even as a Princess, she had crossed a line.
And it was also because it was her first time seeing such a gruesome sight.
No, more than that.
'I...'
Hestia's eyes shook violently at the fact that she had created this disaster with her own hands.
The sword in her hand felt heavy.
'To become a knight, one must be able to bear the weight of the sword.'
It was something one of her masters always said while teaching her.
Back then, Hestia would smile brightly and swing her sword around, saying, "This isn't heavy at all!"
But now, she understood.
The "weight of the sword" her master spoke of wasn't about the physical weight of the weapon.
Born into Leon, the Kingdom of Knights, she had picked up a sword as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and so she had forgotten.
A sword is a weapon. It is a tool for killing.
A sword could be used to save people, but it was an undeniable fact that its primary purpose was to take lives.
When she truly felt that reality, fear washed over her.
The sword was heavy. The moment the sword she had felt so close to, the one she had considered a friend, felt alien.
"Adam!"
Amidst the murmurs of the crowd, the boy, covered in blood, stood up.
Holding the half-broken sword, he looked as if he hadn't lost yet.
Hestia's eyes widened at the sight.
Why was he standing up?
He looked like he would collapse if someone so much as poked him.
What could he possibly gain by fighting further?
"Ah."
The moment that thought crossed her mind, a certain saying surfaced.
—Knights are those who draw their swords even when they know they will lose.
It was what her father had told her when he first placed a sword in her hand as a child.
Why had she forgotten?
Why had she forgotten the very things she should never have let go of?
The sword that had felt terrifying and heavy suddenly returned to its usual weight.
No, it felt even lighter.
However, she let the lightened sword fall from her hand.
Because...
"I lose."
Because today's match was her defeat.
*
I collapsed the moment Princess Hestia declared her defeat.
Because it hurt like hell.
"Are you alive?"
The Captain asked quietly as I was being carried away on a stretcher.
Am I alive?
"I think I'm dead."
"So you're alive."
His calm nodding made something surge up inside me for a moment, but...
"Don't worry about the treatment. You'll get compensation from the royal family too."
"How much?"
The moment I heard about compensation, my anger vanished.
As expected of the Kingdom of Knights. Even their compensation is bold.
"Is it okay to give me this much?"
"It's fine. You've done quite a lot."
Princess Hestia had never lost to someone her own age.
It wasn't just a matter of people taking it easy on her because she was a Princess; there simply wasn't anyone skilled enough to beat her.
Because of that, she had become too arrogant.
To the point where a single fall could have caused everything to crumble.
And that moment was today.
"If you hadn't stood up at that moment, Princess Hestia might not have picked up a sword for a long time."
Was it really that big of a deal? Even as I was standing up, I was debating whether I should just stay down.
"Well done."
"It hurts."
A celebratory pat on the head landed on me. It hurt. No, it really, really hurt.
"Ow! There's a shard stuck there!"
"Hahaha!"
I spent some time in the infirmary, but since getting injured was a daily occurrence in the Kingdom of Knights, a few days in the treatment facility was enough to fully recover.
In fact, beyond just recovering, I became stronger after consuming an elixir bestowed by the royal family.
And as a result, everything became perfect.
I was the greatest talent the Captain had ever seen, and the benefactor who had reformed Princess Hestia, the royal family's headache.
No one would object to me being in charge of the 5th Prince!
...Or so I thought.
"Huh?"
"Wow!"
Princess Hestia, with a wooden sword pointed at her throat, widened her eyes.
The 5th Prince, who had defeated his sister for the first time, was equally wide-eyed with joy.
But the ones most shocked were me and the Captain standing beside me.
"Holy shit."
A curse from my past life slipped out unconsciously.
But I couldn't help it.
It had been one year since he started learning the sword.
Princess Hestia, one of the top talents in the royal family, had lost to her younger brother, who had only been training for a year.
It was a result that could only be explained as insane talent.
And the problem was... I was the one who had to be the pacemaker for that insane talent.