The Uninvited Intruder
I pulled Oden into a nearby empty room before Liriet could even get a word out.
"Duke Craig, why won't you take her as your disciple?"
My voice rose a notch, which wasn't like me at all.
And for good reason—I never imagined he'd actually refuse.
At this point in the story, Liriet had plenty of talent on her own merits.
I wondered if it was the same reason as with Abel, but that didn't seem to be it.
At the very least, Oden had acknowledged Liriet as a 'swordsman.'
So why?
"Strange. Didn't you leave the decision to take her as a disciple or not entirely up to me?"
"Sure, but you could at least tell me the reason, right?"
"I can't tell you the reason."
"Why not?"
"Some things are like that, lad. There are plenty of truths in this world that you're better off not knowing."
Better off not knowing?
It sounded like knowing would only hurt me instead.
"Is there something wrong with my niece? Don't tell me she doesn't have much time left to live or...?"
"What kind of scary nonsense is that? The kid might hear you."
Oh right.
I'd lost my head for a moment in all the panic.
She was the girl who'd met a bad end in the original story, after all, so all sorts of wild thoughts had come rushing in.
Maybe there was some incurable disease I didn't know about, or some weird hidden setting.
"If it were something like that, I'd have told you right away."
"You're right. I must've lost my mind for a second there."
"Was it that much of a shock?"
"Yeah, I guess so..."
To be honest, I'd barely considered the possibility of rejection.
Maybe ten percent at most.
I'd figured Oden would take her under his wing without much fuss.
"It's not a bad reason, so don't worry. If anything, it's good news. You'll find out in due time, and even if you don't, I'll let you know eventually."
What an enigmatic thing to say.
Good news he couldn't share? And I had no clue when this 'due time' of his would come.
"Besides, I only said I won't take her as a disciple. I can still give her some occasional guidance."
"Really?"
No, then say that first!
Don't confuse people like this.
Just moments ago, I'd been glaring at him like he was my sworn enemy, but now I flipped my attitude in an instant, asking in a friendly tone.
Oden shot me a look like What the hell is this guy?, but I just grinned shamelessly.
"Heh, to think the guy who wouldn't give the time of day to anything but magic has turned into such a doting uncle."
"She's my one and only niece, after all."
"What about that friend Abel?"
"Oh, right, there was a kid like that."
I'd totally forgotten.
Whatever, not my problem.
The important part was that while becoming his direct disciple might be off the table, he'd at least allow her to receive instruction.
It wouldn't compare to inheriting all his ultimate techniques as a prized pupil, of course.
He wasn't the type to half-ass sword training just because she wasn't his official disciple.
Even a single piece.
The foundation Liriet had lacked because no one had properly taught her—if he filled that gap, her talent could blossom quickly, and catching up to Abel might just be a matter of time.
"Then, can I go tell my niece right now?"
"Do as you like. Ah, but before that, I'd like to give you some advice regarding the girl."
"Yes, I'll take it to heart."
If it was nagging about me like my old mentor did, I'd tune it out.
But advice about Liriet? I needed to listen with both ears wide open.
I even boosted my hearing with magic to catch every syllable, showing my resolve.
"For the time being, support that child a lot and stay by her side. That's the first thing you should do."
"...?"
Oden offered some rather vague advice, like he was grasping at clouds.
It was something I'd do anyway without needing to hear it from him.
But the weight he put into the request stuck with me.
Was it connected to whatever fact he'd refused to reveal earlier?
"Uncle!"
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Our talk dragged on a bit."
"No, I was worried you might've come during a busy time..."
"No matter how busy I am, I always make time to see my niece."
In truth, my master had hounded me to attend the conference with him, but I'd weaseled out by saying I just wanted to see my niece's face.
I'd have to go eventually once I got back.
Ugh, I really didn't want to.
The thought of schmoozing with all those old fogeys gave me a headache in every way.
"Since it's such a rare chance for us to meet, how about showing off your skills for a bit?"
Oden had stepped out to wash his hands and returned before suggesting it.
As they say, seeing is believing—he probably wanted to roughly gauge Liriet's abilities first.
"U-Uncle, is that okay? Me showing my swordsmanship in front of the Sword Saint..."
"It'll be fine. Even if you're lacking, you can learn. Duke Craig said he'd teach you himself."
"Really? But earlier, he clearly..."
"He said he won't take you as a disciple, not that he won't teach you. Believe it or not, the duke is pretty serious about nurturing the next generation."
In the original story, Oden hadn't taken a direct disciple before Leon, but he'd been quite active in mentoring juniors—visiting the academy and even giving lectures now and then.
He'd even occasionally checked on the crown prince's swordsmanship, despite rejecting his plea for discipleship.
"So show him your best. I know you can do it."
"Yes! I'll give it everything I've got."
Liriet had been downcast after hearing Oden's words earlier, but my encouragement lit a fire in her eyes.
Blood truly tells.
"Then I'll go grab the wooden swords."
"Ah, before you do, take this."
"What's this, Uncle?"
I stopped Liriet as she turned to head back to her room and handed her a small paper bag.
Her eyes widened like saucers as she peered inside with a puzzled look.
"Clothes for training in. I guessed the size, but they should fit."
It wasn't anything special—just a few sweat-wicking outfits.
Liriet probably didn't have anything like them.
Sure, she had fancy dresses, but those were just leftovers Kasdia had gotten from acquaintances to pretend she was treating her like a proper daughter.
Liriet's wardrobe was otherwise pathetically sparse.
She'd even practiced swordsmanship in a dress because she had nothing else to wear.
"Was it a useless gift?"
I teased her lightly, seeing her eyes start to glisten with tears.
She shook her head without a word.
She looked ready to burst at the slightest touch.
"No! Sniff! Th-thank you so much, Uncle. I'll treasure them."
"I'm not giving them to you to treasure. Get them dirty, cover them in dust—whatever. Just focus on your training. Your uncle here will buy you more anytime."
"Y-yes... Hic!"
Aigoo, who knew my niece was such a crybaby.
It felt a bit awkward and refreshingly new compared to the Liriet Argent I knew.
After becoming the villainess in the original story, she'd never shown this side.
Well, exactly once, actually.
Right before Leon killed her.
'With me here, that future will never come.'
The horrific, heartbreaking illustration flashed back to life in my mind.
Unthinkingly, I reached out toward Liriet's face.
She looked up at me with tear-streaked cheeks, as delicate as a glass artisan's masterpiece—too fragile to even comfort properly, so I pulled my hand back.
For a moment, it seemed like Liriet looked at me with disappointment.
I chalked it up to a mirage from getting caught up in the mood.
"A-anyway, I'll go change and come right out, Uncle."
Did she think she'd shown an unseemly side in front of her uncle and the swordsman she admired?
Belated embarrassment hit her, and she bolted into her room like she was fleeing.
She was like a rabbit peeking out of its burrow, spotting a predator, and darting back in.
That cute, anyway.
"Duke Craig."
"What is it?"
"Isn't my niece just adorable? 'You could put her in your eyes and it wouldn't hurt'—that's gotta be what that saying's for."
"...It's rare to see a doting uncle at your age, but you're outdoing even me."
Is that so?
Anyone with a niece that cute would be the same.
Anyone who disagrees, raise your hand.
Bang.
Next.
Whoosh! Swish!
Liriet's hands moved surprisingly fast, thrusting the wooden sword forward, pulling back, and slashing repeatedly.
Her footwork kept pace just as nimbly.
I wasn't a swordsman myself, but it didn't look easy for a ten-year-old to move like that—I couldn't help but let out an admiring gasp.
"Enough. That's good."
"Hah...! Y-yes."
At Oden's signal, Liriet stopped.
"Good work. Drink this and catch your breath."
"Ah, thank you, Uncle."
I handed the canteen to her as she panted, and she smiled while quenching her thirst.
It was the picture of healing.
The villainess who'd met a bad end in the original story was right there before me, burning with youthful vigor and dripping with sweat.
Wearing the brightest smile, no less.
Meanwhile, Oden stroked his chin, staring at her with a sense of something off.
"You're unusual. I heard you've trained in swordsmanship, but your basics are quite lacking."
"S-sorry."
"Not criticizing you. Your fundamentals are weak, but certain stances and movements are crisp. Like you learned by peeking over someone's shoulder."
"Hic!"
It was like he'd summoned a ghost.
Liriet let out an adorable hiccup at the spot-on observation.
He was right.
Liriet's swordsmanship hadn't come from a proper teacher or her brother.
She'd just watched the two of them from afar and scraped by on her own.
"Good. As promised, I'll stay here for a while and teach you personally. I've got time to spare, so ten days should work."
"Ten days?"
"What, too long and bothersome?"
"N-no! I'm just so happy. Thank you so much, Duke Craig."
Liriet bowed at a perfect ninety degrees, beaming.
I hadn't expected Oden to go this far either, so I was a bit surprised.
He was famous enough that no place could afford not to invite him.
Ten days at the academy as a lecturer? You'd need a fortune, and even then, good luck.
"That's great, niece."
"Yes! It's all thanks to you, Uncle."
"What did I even do? Your talent shone through so brightly that the duke couldn't help himself."
I wiped her sweat-soaked face with a towel, and she giggled happily.
She must've been thrilled to earn recognition from the world's greatest swordsman.
My choice had been right after all.
If I just kept building her confidence like this, so much would change...
"I can't accept this!"
"...Hm?"
The heartwarming mood was doused with cold water.
Blame the uninvited guest who poked his head out from the far end of the training hall.
He'd rushed over so frantically his face was beet red, panting as he glared at us.
It was Abel.