Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: The Woman Dreaming of Knighthood (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Douglas Earldom was a family that had passed down its lineage of swordsmanship through the generations.
Walter Douglas had been born as the second son of such a family.
Considering that most talent was hereditary, it stood to reason that he should have excelled in swordsmanship as well. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. In simple terms, he lacked talent for the sword.
Of course, that didn't mean he was incompetent. Compared to those who inherited nothing, he could even be called exceptional. It was just that, relative to the abilities etched into the blood of the Douglas family, he fell hopelessly short.
Even so, Walter never gave up. Whether it rained or snowed—even when he came down with a cold and ran a fever—he swung his sword. He was trying to make up for his lacking talent through effort.
It was one day amid all this.
His younger sister Evie said she wanted to become a knight. She'd been reading a book in the study, and it seemed to have influenced her.
"Evie, think it over again."
Walter naturally opposed it.
Becoming a knight—wielding a sword—was no easy task, something you couldn't take on just because you had a dream.
Moreover, Evie was a woman. Even without considering talent, it would be an arduous path.
Having walked that difficult road himself, Walter didn't want his little sister to follow the same one. He hoped she'd live happily as a woman instead.
But despite his opposition, Evie stubbornly refused to back down. In the end, even their parents were persuaded by her resolve.
She had chosen the hard path.
After that, Walter stopped speaking to Evie. He knew nothing good would come from opening his mouth.
Time passed, and after Evie enrolled in the Academy...
Walter received a letter from his parents.
It said, in essence, to persuade her if possible and convince her to give up the sword.
His parents could no longer bear to see her suffering.
It was a cruel situation. They had let her take up the sword because they couldn't overcome her stubbornness, only to dump the task of crushing her dream on him.
He wouldn't say he had no complaints, but that wasn't reason enough to refuse. If anything, he welcomed it. He'd wanted her to put down the sword ever since the day she first dreamed of becoming a knight.
So Walter went to persuade Evie, but...
"Why...? What's lacking...?!"
Evie was already on the verge of giving up.
It was only natural, really. The Academy gathered the most talented individuals from across the Empire. Standing beside them made her realize just how insignificant she was.
At this rate, she'll give up eventually.
Thinking that, Walter didn't bother bringing it up.
He already felt guilty about having to crush her dream, so it worked out perfectly.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Luke Nineheart—the top first-year student—sparred with Evie, and she regained her spirits.
As her big brother, nothing could make him happier than seeing his sister perk up again. But if that meant she wouldn't give up the sword because of it, that was another story.
Walter simply couldn't forgive him. He'd reignited false hope in his sister just as she was about to let go of the sword and find some peace.
That was why he'd challenged him to a duel. He planned to correct the arrogant boy's thinking and then persuade Evie.
He was confident, of course. All his efforts up to now wouldn't betray him. Climbing to the upper ranks of the second-years was proof enough.
Yes, it should have been that way. It had to be.
But why...?
Clack! Crack!
With every clash of their wooden swords, his certainty of victory faded. And in the end, a question lingered.
'Can I win...?'
Luke Nineheart's movements were swift and sharp, his strikes impossibly heavy. It was like facing a ferocious beast.
It hadn't been like this at first. When their swords first met, he'd thought he could win handily. Now, it was as if he'd become a completely different person.
How had this happened?
Did he have another self dwelling within? Or was he using some kind of trick?
As these thoughts chained together in his mind, Luke's wooden sword thrust forward and struck Walter's shoulder hard.
Luckily it was wooden; if it had been real steel, his shoulder would have been pierced, rendering one arm useless.
It was probably time to get serious.
"Fine, I'll admit it. You know how to handle a sword. But so what?"
Walter drew up his aura. The power dormant in his body awakened, invigorating him. It was his final trump card to end the duel quickly.
Luke, facing him, did the same. A blue energy enveloped his body and sword.
'I expected as much.'
He was only a first-year, but the top of his class. Walter had assumed his aura was already awakened.
But there would surely be a clear difference in how they wielded it.
I win.
With that resolve, Walter kicked off the ground. His body shot forward at incomparable speed, and his aura-clad sword swung down.
Boom!
An explosive roar echoed from the clash of wooden swords—impossible to believe from mere training weapons. At the same time, the air in the area blasted outward.
One exchange, two, three...
In the blink of an eye, countless blows were traded. It far surpassed the limits of ordinary humans.
In the midst of it, Walter realized why he was being pushed back.
A second self? Some trick? It wasn't anything like that.
Luke Nineheart was using even this moment of clashing swords as fertilizer for his growth. That absolute talent was surely his gift.
Bam!
Blocking an attack as if he'd foreseen it.
Bam!
Striking with dizzying sharpness.
Walter was somehow keeping up, but he could feel himself gradually being overwhelmed.
He didn't need to see how it would end. He'd become the prey in the end.
'Then now's the chance.'
The longer it went, the stronger he got—which meant right now was his weakest.
Walter immediately pushed his aura to maximum output. He could only sustain it for a few seconds, but that should be enough for one decisive exchange.
As if sensing his plan, an even more intense aura emanated from Luke Nineheart.
The two aura-wreathed wooden swords hurtled toward each other.
And the instant they met, Walter instinctively knew.
He had lost.
Was I the one who was wrong...?
The thought struck him just as the wooden sword in his hand shattered to pieces.
Boom!
The roar echoed, and the surrounding air blasted outward like an explosion.
A numbing sensation shot through my hand, threatening to make me drop my sword, but I gritted my teeth and held on. To a knight, the sword was life itself. Dropping it was as good as forfeiting your life.
Finally, the air currents died down, and the aura I'd drawn up faded away.
It was only natural. I'd used every ounce of aura I had to counter Walter's strike.
If Walter had any reserves left, I'd have been in trouble...
Fortunately, that wasn't the case. The aura cloaking his body was gone, and the training sword in his grip had splintered into fragments scattered everywhere.
As I said before, to a knight, the sword is life. Its loss meant death, so the duel’s outcome was plain without asking.
Was he about to admit it himself? Walter's tightly shut mouth opened.
Just as his voice was about to emerge...
Thwack!
My wooden sword lightly tapped his head.
Think the duel’s over just like that? No way.
"Wh-what is this?!"
"You haven't lost yet."
"My sword broke, didn't it?!"
"I've heard that masters at the pinnacle can form formless blades. The presence of a visible sword means nothing."
Thwack!
I tapped his head once more, lightly.
This is why people need to watch their words. You can't take them back.
Finally, he backed away to a distance beyond my sword's reach and spoke again.
"I lost."
"...A bit disappointing."
"What did you just say...?"
"Just talking to myself. Sorry if it bothered you."
Who knew he'd hear a whisper from this far? Walter must have sharp ears.
Well, it didn't matter if he did.
"Anyway, I'm sorry. For what I said about you, and about the medal you received— I apologize for all of it."
"Is that really all you have to say?"
"Of course not. I'll apologize for looking down on Evie too."
"Thank you for those rude words."
Walter bowed his head to me, and I returned the gesture. It was customary to exchange bows after a duel, but twice was unnecessary.
Anyway, the duel was over now. There was no reason for me to stick around.
"Well then, Sir Walter, I'll take my leave. I learned a lot thanks to you."
"I learned much as well."
Maybe because I'd whacked him on the head twice? There didn't seem to be any lingering grudges.
I gave a light nod and turned to go.
As I exited the training grounds, I spotted Evie and Elena.
But why was this...?
"I-I didn't want to do it either!"
"Hah, you wanna go right now?"
They were facing off, growling at each other.
Though one looked like a beast and the other like a tiny puppy.
Anyway, they were definitely growling.