The Master Who Became Interested
Whoosh!
Thud!
Swish!
Thud!
After a light meal of snacks, Rachel arrived at the training grounds with Elden and threw herself into a live sparring match.
The pattern was not so different from their first session.
Because he had learned by rolling around with his body rather than through theory and lectures, the training continued as practical combat built around sparring.
What had changed was this.
…None of my attacks from last time are landing at all.
Every strike that followed the same pattern was blocked, and even the occasional feints Elden threw out were dodged by the barest of margins.
Worse, his eyes would flash with an unnerving light from time to time, as if he were watching for a chance to counter.
The fists that had once simply flailed now knew how to wait for their moment. The shoulders that had once been locked with raw power had grown supple. The feet that had only ever advanced in a straight line now stepped through a variety of footwork.
It was strange.
She was certain she had never seen him do any separate practice or training after that first spar. Between the reading he was doing at the same time, there simply had not been the hours for it.
She had watched him countless times before—the way he spent every other day brawling with thugs.
And she had always thought the same thing.
He never improves much.
Just as you pick up tricks if you keep grilling meat, a person who fights that often should get better at it. That was only natural. A baby who practices walking eventually starts to run; everything grows with use. That was the law of the world.
Elden Raphelion had defied that law.
He had done nothing but mindless, endless melees. Of course he had not completely stagnated—but the improvement relative to how often he fought had been painfully slow.
Which made the present situation make no sense at all.
On top of that, she had not specially taught him anything. The first session had been a single sparring match meant only to gauge his level—less a foundation for instruction than a disciplinary thrashing for a disciple who had mocked his master by reading aloud some delusional string of letters as if it were a stage play.
And yet, in that brief exchange, had he somehow grasped something?
What is this?
What was it?
At this level, he could enter an amateur fighting tournament and reasonably aim for the championship. The skill and the look in his eyes were completely different from the Elden she had known until now.
What in the world had happened in only a few days? Had he swallowed some kind of miraculous elixir?
Compared to her he was still only at the stage of learning to run, but the speed of his climb from toddling to full-out sprinting was nothing short of miraculous.
Or perhaps…
…Is it the difference in will?
It might be.
The boy who had fought simply because he liked fighting had finally embraced the will to learn, and that will had fused with the senses and talent he had been born with, producing this explosive leap.
Of course it was still too early to decide. Whether the climb only looked fast because his ceiling was low, or whether it was absolute growth with no ceiling at all—she would have to watch longer.
In any case…
…This is kind of fun.
Her own capacity for learning had been so poor that when others rolled a few dozen times, she had to roll a few hundred. It had taken her ten years just to earn the title of Purple Knight. Even after suffering hundreds or thousands of times more than anyone else, she had never become the kingdom’s strongest.
She had never believed it was because she was a woman. Physical frailty could be papered over with magic. She had simply been born with too little. The only thing she had been born with was grit, and so she had never been able to rise beyond Purple Knight and had been forced to content herself with that.
She had learned too late that a lack of talent could not be covered by effort alone, and that thrashing against that truth had been a foolish struggle.
Perhaps that was why.
…If this goes well…
Interest stirred in her.
Elden, who had thrown himself into endless brawls without even knowing his own talent. Herself, who had thrown herself onto battlefields without any talent at all. Two people of similar yet different grain—both far more responsive to real combat than to theory. Their combination might produce something worthwhile.
Maybe…
A vague hope rose that Elden might be able to pass on to her, who had once had to bow to her limits, the sheer pleasure of breaking through them.
Of course, whether his growth curve was a dry-sky lightning bolt that would vanish in an instant or a summer rain that would fall long and steady remained to be seen.
Whoosh!
“Ra—Rachel?”
Thud!
Swish!
Without realizing it, power flooded into Rachel’s limbs. The fists she had been swinging lightly grew heavy; their speed, inversely, grew faster. Her dark pupils, sunk deep in thought, lost their focus. As the destructive force turned increasingly merciless, Elden called out to her in bewilderment—but Rachel’s ears were already closed.
“Hey?”
Swiiiish!
Wham!
“M-Master?”
Swish!
Bang!
“Guh!”
In the end the power she could no longer control punched straight through Elden’s guard. Struck cleanly in the center of the chest, he went flying and sprawled across the ground some distance away.
Thud!
Even then, Rachel’s eyes still had not found their focus.
It hurt.
It hurt like hell.
It had started light enough. This was supposed to be a review of the first spar, after all. But at some point her fists had grown heavier, and by the end Rachel had thrown a full-power, all-out “serious punch.”
Thanks to that, my guard had shattered and a massive shock had slammed into the exact center of my chest. When I came back to myself I was already lying flat on the ground.
Today’s spar had taken place in the outdoor training grounds, so a clear sky filled my vision. Not a single speck of cloud—just pure, deep blue.
Still, I put up a pretty good fight.
More important than the pain of being hit by a rhinoceros was the fact that I had lasted a full three minutes longer than the first spar, which hadn’t even filled a single minute. That was probably why a smile rose even through the agony that made breathing hard, and why, even with my whole body soaked in sweat, I felt as light as if I could fly into that sky.
In the first spar I had been too busy flailing. Defense alone had been so urgent there had been no room for any other thought. This time, whether because I had already faced her once or for some other reason, I not only found a little breathing room but even started looking for openings to counter.
It felt like I had made tremendous progress in a short time. Of course I had tried hard not to forget anything from the first spar, yet the sense that the output far exceeded the input refused to leave me.
I pushed myself up at an angle. Rachel stood there looking half-gone.
“Master. That was a bit much against a beginner disciple, don’t you think?”
At the scolding of a thoroughly disciplined newbie, the veteran finally came back to her senses and looked down at the newbie sitting on the ground.
“Ah…… I’m sorry. I got carried away without realizing it.”
“Did a god possess you or something?”
“No.”
I lifted one arm. The throbbing in my chest and the trembling in my legs made standing difficult.
“If you’re sorry, at least help me up?”
“…….”
Even after recovering her wits, Rachel still looked somehow loose in the head and gave no answer. Just as I was about to get up on my own, she finally approached.
“Ah, yes.”
A reaction two beats too late. What on earth was she thinking about to be like this? I wondered—and the moment she grabbed my hand tightly and put strength into it, I grinned wickedly.
“Revenge, Master.”
In our first spar, Master had said it herself. Carelessness is fatal. You never know when or where a surprise attack will come, so you must always be ready.
I simply wanted to show her that I had not forgotten that precious lesson. After all, is there any greater joy for a teacher than watching a disciple properly put what they were taught to use?
Of course, I never imagined the obvious newbie surprise tackle would actually land. Rachel’s reflexes were superhuman, after all. I only put the tiniest bit of spite into it—enough to get a little payback against the veteran who had gone all-out in a PVP match against a newbie—and the instant I rose I hooked her outer leg.
And yet.
“…Huh?”
Contrary to my expectation that it would end as a pure miss, the outer leg hooked cleanly. Rachel did not react. The tackle already underway had momentum and could not be stopped; I hurriedly tried to let go of her hand at least. If things continued like this, something unfortunate was going to happen.
But Rachel did not release her strength. Our eyes met.
…A gaze still two beats late, only now beginning to grasp the situation.
Right after that her hand finally loosened, but the situation was already racing toward its conclusion.
“Uh-oh.”
And so—
Thud.
I toppled over together with Rachel.
…….
My body ended up layered on top of hers. Rachel, finally understanding what had happened, furrowed her brow. We were close enough to hear each other’s breathing. A soft—no, a strangely warm—moment in which master and disciple simply looked at each other.
“Please stay farther away.”
“If an escort knight stays that far away, how is she supposed to escort anyone?”
“It is possible from a distance.”
“I’ve said this several times already—I really didn’t think you’d get caught.”
“Understood.”
“And the one who didn’t let go of the hand was you. I clearly tried to let go and dodge.”
“Yes. I understand perfectly.”
……All the way back to the annex I kept bickering with Rachel. No matter how many times I explained, there had been no malice. I had naturally assumed she would dodge. And the moment the outer leg hooked, I had tried to release her hand and roll aside. Her hand simply had not let go. It was unfair.
For some reason, starting from the very first spar, I seemed to keep ending up in situations that required excuses.
“I was only putting into practice what I learned from my master.”
“I never taught you to feign a mistake in order to fulfill your desires.”
“There are no desires, I keep telling you.”
“Yes. I understand perfectly.”
…….
Faced with a conversation that only circled the same spot, I finally gave up. Who could ever out-stubborn the blunt Master Rachel?
And so, together with a Rachel who took the utmost care not to let the distance between us shrink by even a single centimeter, we arrived at the annex. Evening sunset was already settling in. A day that had left me exhausted without having done much of anything.
Now if I could just wash cleanly, eat dinner, and fall asleep reading the novel Ariel had recommended, it would be a perfect day.
Unfortunately, Old Man Rendler came running with an expression that said he had been waiting for me with desperate impatience.
“Y-Young Master…! You weren’t at the training grounds—where have you been?”
“Ah, I heard the royal guards had no training today, so I was at the outdoor grounds. Why? Has ‘someone’ been waiting for me again?”
Judging by Rendler’s face, the annex had not spent the time I was away in perfect peace. I asked in a half-joking tone.
“T-The Grand Duke’s daughter waited a long while and then left this note for you…!”
“…What?”
At Rendler’s answer my brow furrowed of its own accord. I took the note he held out. Thankfully it was not the previous note that had been sealed and then somehow resurrected. It was a new one, folded carelessly rather than neatly—as if the rough folds themselves spoke for the writer’s state of mind.
“…What is this?”
“I was only ordered to deliver it, so…”
I unfolded the note.
To the northwestern edge of the Grand Duke’s castle—the Ever-Snow Garden.
Hmm.
This…
Was this a challenge?