The Sword Saint's Visit (2)
I nearly spat out my black tea.
Who would've thought Oden would spit out that exact line from the original story right there.
'That's what makes it so vicious—there's no malice behind it.'
I'm not trying to badmouth Oden; it's just a fact.
To begin with, he's not the type to casually insult others.
He's simply a man who stays true to himself and can't abide falsehoods.
It wasn't some deliberate jab at Abel to cut him down.
He said it because Abel truly didn't feel like even a mosquito's hind leg as a swordsman.
And that's what made it so hilarious.
He hadn't even meant to do it, yet he'd landed a solid hit on Abel—and it felt so satisfying.
'Am I being too petty?'
Feeling this way over a mere twelve-year-old nephew seemed a bit much, but given who the kid was, no guilt stirred in me.
Who was Abel Argent, anyway?
One of the worst culprits behind what happened to Liriet.
In the original story, he'd beaten a ten-year-old Liriet black and blue, then stood over her sobbing form and ranted nonsense like, "To think something like you is part of the Argent family. What a disgrace!"
That innocent-looking face hid something even worse than his mother's—a devil in disguise.
"Abel, why are you just standing here?"
"M-Mother…!"
Kasdia arrived late, asking in bewilderment, and Abel grabbed at her skirt as if about to pour out his woes.
"You've arrived, sister-in-law. Allow me to introduce you. This is Duke Oden Craig. Duke Craig, this is my sister-in-law and the lady of the Argent house, Madam Kasdia Argent."
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Oden Craig."
"I am Kasdia Argent. It is an honor to meet the renowned Duke Craig."
I quickly cut in on Abel's words with a smile, using the introduction as an excuse to smooth things over.
"Ugh…."
Unable to even voice his lament, Abel's face turned ashen. He stuck close to Kasdia as she introduced herself and approached us.
Come to think of it, the kid had a bit of a mama's boy streak.
"When the young master suddenly said he was bringing Duke Craig, I can't tell you how startled I was."
"Hoho, what is there to be startled about with an old man like me?"
"Oh, don't say that…. Ah, if it's not too rude to ask, how did you two come to know each other?"
"No special connection. My old friend Godwin is this lad's master, that's all. We run into each other now and then."
"Oh, I see."
The conversation seemed to flow smoothly on the surface, but I could tell.
Kasdia was subtly glancing around, pulling Abel closer to her side.
Obviously to get in Oden's good graces.
Without even knowing what had just gone down here.
And in the midst of it, Abel trying to edge away like he hated it—pure comedy.
Ah, I shouldn't laugh.
I'm gonna burst if I do.
"It seems the young master went to some lengths to show off our boy's swordplay to such a distinguished guest."
"Something like that."
"And in your esteemed opinion, does our boy have talent?"
She might not realize it herself, but Kasdia's nostrils were flaring.
The mask of the demure, elegant duchess she always wore was cracking in real time.
She even reminded me of those overzealous parents from my past life.
As Kasdia's expectant gaze turned to him, Oden gave a wry smile and lowered his head.
"Regrettably, I haven't had a proper look yet. I'll tell you after."
"Pardon? You haven't seen… what do you mean…."
Kasdia glanced at Abel with a dumbfounded look, like she'd been smacked on the back of the head.
As if asking Oden, 'He's right here, aren't your eyes working?'
"Were you referring to this lad? My apologies. This old man misspoke."
"Ah, no, no need to apologize, but…."
Oden showed the same sincere lack of malice as he had with Abel.
Thanks to that, Kasdia's face twisted into the same ridiculous contortion Abel's had moments ago.
Not even blood-related, yet they looked like matching fish-shaped buns in their mother-son dynamic. Hilarious.
"Since you've brought it up, may I ask… what do you think of this child?"
Even so, Kasdia mustered her courage as a "mother" and asked for his opinion.
Abel, finding some sliver of hope, watched with gleaming eyes.
"Hmm."
Oden stroked his chin thoughtfully for a long while, looking troubled.
With his personality, he wasn't agonizing over whether to be honest.
He was just choosing his words.
"As a guest, I'm sorry to say this, but when evaluating a swordsman, I don't look only at technical talent."
"What do you mean by that?"
"It means I look at the vessel. The sword is a profound art and martial discipline, and the human body is far too small and fragile a container for it."
As expected.
I nodded at the response I'd anticipated.
Yes, Oden Craig was that kind of man.
A man who placed the sword above humanity.
A man who prefixed humans with "mere" or "paltry" in the face of the blade.
"And that vessel comes from one's will. Why do I wield the sword? Why do I seek to learn it? These things cannot be hidden. Even my nine-year-old great-grandchild reveals it plainly."
"I see."
"Unfortunately, I see no such thing in this lad. I can't even guess what drives him to swing the sword."
"So that means…."
As Kasdia's lips trembled, Oden replied gently.
"It's a matter before discussing talent, so it's hard to answer. If this child becomes a proper swordsman, I'll tell you then."
Even as he said it, Oden surely knew.
Abel could never become the kind of swordsman he meant.
For Abel, the sword was just a weapon and a tool for power he'd grasped at a young age.
No deep insights into its study.
But he didn't voice that truth.
Whether out of consideration for Abel or Kasdia, it was this excessively honest man's way of showing tact.
It felt like walking on thin ice, but after what had been a thoroughly enjoyable conversation for me, I led Oden to Liriet's room.
"Is this the child's room? It's awfully isolated."
"Tell me about it."
Did Oden sense the same unease I did?
His eyes, scanning the surroundings, brimmed with puzzlement.
Well, who was this old man?
From the mother's attitude in the drawing room earlier and the room's location alone, he might have already guessed Liriet's place in the family.
But there was no point spelling it out myself right now.
It could just stir up trouble, so I held my tongue.
Liriet must have heard we were coming, right?
Maybe I should call her.
Knock knock.
"Niece, are you in there?"
—Uncle…!?
Wait, no.
Her voice carried genuine surprise, like she hadn't expected me.
"Uncle! It's been so long si— Ah?"
There was a clatter from inside, then the door flew open and Liriet appeared.
She started to greet me warmly but froze, her gaze shifting to Oden beside me.
"It's been a while, my niece. Have you been well?"
"Y-Yes…! I've been well. But Uncle, who is this gentleman?"
"This is Duke Oden Craig, the one you've always wanted to meet."
"Eeeee!?"
Judging by Liriet's reaction, no one in the family had bothered to tell her we were coming.
Not surprising at all, but their pettiness was almost childish.
I didn't even feel like scoffing.
"Pleased to meet you. This old codger is Oden Craig. You're Liriet Argent, yes?"
"Y-Yes. Ah, I mean, it's an honor to meet you for the first time… No, a pleasure!"
She was so flustered she forgot basic etiquette, fumbling her words.
It was so cute I couldn't help but laugh.
Even old man Oden wasn't immune.
He smiled with evident delight.
"No need to be so flustered. I heard you were learning the sword, so I expected a sturdy young lady, but you're a delicate, pretty little princess. Quite the surprise."
"P-Pretty? You're too kind, sir."
My niece, oblivious as ever to her own beauty, took the praise as mere flattery.
What a heartbreaking sight.
Nothing sadder than someone unaware of their own worth.
I'd have to educate her on that later.
"See? Didn't this uncle tell you? If the chance came, I'd bring the Sword Saint to see you."
"I never dreamed you'd actually keep that promise."
"Ho? You mean you didn't trust your uncle? That's a bit hurtful."
"Ah, no! It's not that I didn't trust you, Uncle—it's just, you're so great and busy, I thought…."
My clumsy acting worked perfectly on Liriet.
Waving my hands like a mime was fun to tease her with.
Ah, so this is why uncles get hooked on teasing their nieces?
Still, I'd try not to be a mean uncle.
Teasing in moderation.
"Tsk tsk. As rumored, you've handled a sword before. Still raw, but your balance is solid even when you walk."
"Y-You can tell?"
"This old man's devoted his life to it. If I couldn't spot that much, what good am I?"
"Wow…!"
Moved by praise from the world's greatest swordsman, perhaps?
Liriet's eyes sparkled as she bowed repeatedly in thanks.
Our delicate niece might snap her back at this rate.
"How long have you been swinging it?"
"About two years. I started at eight."
"Oh ho, early start. Family training?"
"Ah, no. Mother said it was fine, but I just wanted to learn, so on my own…."
Fine? More like she never let her touch a sword.
Unable to say that outright, Liriet offered a lame excuse.
"So no teacher?"
"Very occasionally, one comes."
A teacher does come.
Just teaches Abel and leaves.
And Liriet watches from afar or her room.
Then practices alone.
That's all.
"Since it's come up, how about Duke Craig takes a look?"
Brushing the pitiful truth aside for now.
I seized the moment.
Oden, as if he'd been thinking the same, nodded and asked Liriet kindly.
"Not a bad idea. Well, child? Would you like to receive instruction from this old man?"
"P-Pardon? Me? From the Sword Saint…?"
Pfft, she's broken.
I'd have reacted the same.
"Does that mean I'd become your disciple, Sword Saint?"
"Disciple, hmm…."
Yes, Liriet!
That's exactly the question I wanted!
You're doing great, niece!
I shot Oden a sidelong glance, my eyes perhaps more eager than Liriet's.
Oden would surely accept.
Even if Liriet's Sword Aspiration hadn't awakened yet.
Her talent was the real deal, acknowledged even in the original story.
Besides, this old man wouldn't ask if she wanted to learn from him without intending to take her on.
'Huh? Why's he looking at me?'
As I waited for his answer, Oden, who'd been staring at Liriet, suddenly glanced my way.
Then back to her, then at me again.
He even furrowed his brow with a grunt.
What? Is there a problem?
Anxious, I held my breath waiting.
"My apologies, child. It'd be difficult for this old man to take you as a disciple."
His words shattered my faint hopes, chilling me to the core.
……Give me back the money for my drinks right now, you old geezer.