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Chapter 1: Swordsmanship instructor (1)
"Heok!"
Jolting upright, he frantically ran his hands along his neck.
What the, why is it still attached?
He had clearly felt the sensation of his neck being severed, vivid and unmistakable.
'Did I die and end up in hell?'
With a hollow laugh born of resignation, he recalled the moments just before his death.
'The Sword Saint must be dead too.'
Siellin Rekanof.
His mentor of sorts, and the Sword Saint.
A genius who had reached the pinnacle at a young age—a talent unrivaled throughout history, one no one could approach.
He had sworn to himself that he would defeat that Sword Saint no matter what.
Not for some hot-blooded reason like wanting to surpass the strongest.
One day, the Sword Saint had fallen into Madness.
With that graceful sword, she had slaughtered people without mercy.
He had been the Vanguard Commander of the Sword Saint Subjugation Force assembled across generations of the empire.
And every last member of that force, save for him, had been annihilated.
The moment he, the last survivor, drove his sword into the Sword Saint's heart—
His neck was severed.
As his head flew off, what he glimpsed in that instant was the Sword Saint collapsing, vomiting blood.
He had died first, but it was a draw—that much was clear.
It was something to be proud of, yet he couldn't bring himself to feel that way.
'What's the point of grinding through a draw.'
He had fallen into hell as the price.
He let out a long sigh and looked around.
'What is this?'
What entered his view was a room he had seen somewhere before.
A cramped space with a musty smell.
The bedding was in absolutely filthy condition.
This was a room in a cheap inn.
It was far too peaceful to be hell.
Come to think of it, perhaps he had been acknowledged for saving the continent and dropped into heaven instead?
But it was far too shabby to be heaven.
'This isn't Life Flashing Before Eyes either.'
Then what was it?
There was only one answer.
'I've returned to the past?'
It was unbelievable.
Even so, his instincts whispered.
That he had Regressed.
The moment he grasped that fact, he rewound his memories furiously.
What time is it now?
Here too, there was only one answer.
'So it's that day.'
He was the eldest son of the Valter Ducal House.
One might wonder what that had to do with anything, but here he was—in a cheap inn.
Not exactly a place befitting the eldest son of a ducal house.
But there had been exactly one time he had stopped by a cheap inn.
The day he had applied to become the Sword Saint's Swordsmanship Instructor.
That one day, he had concealed his identity and stayed at a cheap inn.
'What on earth was I thinking?'
Back then, he had harbored a romantic notion about experiencing commoner life.
That was why he had come to the cheap inn.
He gave it up the moment he saw a fist-sized insect crawling across the ceiling.
'So this is ten years in the past.'
He hadn't confirmed the date, but he knew.
Because today was both the worst day of his life and a deeply significant one.
'This was when I felt the Wall of Talent firsthand.'
He had been what one would call a genius.
Not long after picking up a sword, he had defeated the household's guard knights.
Without any particular effort, there was no one who could receive his sword.
And so he had carried more pride than anyone.
That he was the greatest genius on the continent.
It was in the midst of that when he heard a certain rumor.
That the youngest daughter of the Rekanof Household was a genius to make the heavens look up in awe.
That every Swordsmanship Instructor assigned to her would instead feel the gap in talent themselves and fall into despair.
He felt equal parts intrigue and defiance at that rumor.
How dare you?
A genius to make the heavens look up in awe?
He couldn't accept it.
And so, after unilaterally informing his household that he would take the position of her Swordsmanship Instructor—
He finally met the Sword Saint.
He immediately picked a fight with the Sword Saint, who was ten years his junior.
And.
'I got my ass handed to me.'
Without landing a single effective blow, he was beaten in the most humiliating fashion imaginable.
Even a dog would bite at its owner's leg after getting hit that much.
He had crawled along the floor like a complete idiot.
The young Sword Saint said nothing as she watched him.
She only glanced down at him with what seemed like contempt.
After that, he trained hard with the sword, and so on and so forth.
He cleaned up his pathetic ways and lived properly.
With his grown swordsmanship, he earned recognition from those in high places.
Being Vanguard Commander of the Sword Saint Subjugation Force wasn't nothing.
"Let's go."
First, the Sword Saint from ten years ago.
How old was she now? Twelve, wasn't it?
Anyway, he was going to meet the twelve-year-old Sword Saint.
He gathered his sword and stepped out of the cheap inn.
The Rekanof Household wasn't far, so he arrived before long.
"Young Lord Adrian, I will escort you."
Guided by a retainer, he arrived at the reception room.
What immediately came into view was the Rekanof Household Head.
Harsen Rekanof, seated with a solemn air.
He settled onto the reception room sofa and faced him directly.
"Young Lord Adrian. I have heard. That you wish to take the position of the Young Lady's Swordsmanship Instructor..."
"That is correct."
"Then give it up."
Harsen said plainly.
As if without a single doubt in his own words, he calmly raised his teacup and drank.
'Same as before.'
Before his Regression, he had heard the exact same words.
To give up the position of Swordsmanship Instructor.
The him of that time had pushed back strongly.
Something about whether they were hiding the Young Lady because she was all talk.
That this Adrian Valter was personally offering to serve as Swordsmanship Instructor, and they dare refuse.
Something along those lines.
"I cannot do that."
"Huu. Young Lord, I will say it again. Give up the position of Swordsmanship Instructor."
"For what reason?"
"Because you will be put in danger."
This was a different response from before his Regression.
'What had the Household Head said back then.'
Had he told him to go see for himself?
Filled with stubbornness, he had accompanied Harsen and the Rekanof Household's guard knights to meet the Sword Saint.
And lost in a disgraceful manner.
Truly humiliating, but that wasn't what mattered here.
What mattered was that Harsen had made the suggestion out of genuine concern for him.
More precisely, it was a judgment based on the incidents that had occurred up until then.
He wouldn't want to make an enemy of the Valter Household, after all.
'The Household Head sees the Sword Saint as a monster.'
The reason he had brought the guard knights along wasn't to hold him back either.
He had brought them in case the Sword Saint happened to kill him—because the consequences would be unmanageable.
"It pains me to say this myself, but the Young Lady is a monster. A monster beyond human reach, one we cannot comprehend."
Harsen's gaze deepened.
"Young Lord Adrian, I am well aware that you have made a name for yourself as a genius swordsman. But you are human. Facing a monster will only end in bloodshed."
She was undoubtedly his own daughter, yet he called her a monster.
And not only him.
Not a single member of the Rekanof Household failed to regard the Sword Saint as a monster.
'She's not a monster.'
He did not like the Sword Saint.
No—he disliked her.
Because the entire continent had been ruined because of the Sword Saint.
But that wasn't hatred toward the Sword Saint as a person—it was hatred toward the state of Madness she had fallen into.
The Sword Saint was not a monster.
He could say that with certainty, because he had spent time with her before the Madness took hold.
"A monster..."
He tapped the teacup lightly.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to believe it until I see for myself."
"Young Lord Adrian, please relent. I do not wish for you to come to harm."
Attitude really does matter.
When he had spoken rudely, they had pushed him straight into danger.
Now that he showed a courteous manner, they were desperately trying to stop him.
"I see. The Young Lady may indeed be a monster, as you say, Household Head. But."
He paused for a moment and pulled up the corners of his mouth.
"Isn't that precisely what a Swordsmanship Instructor is for? No matter how much of a monster she may be, the Young Lady is young. With proper guidance, she may improve."
It was wishful thinking, but this was the most effective argument.
Either way, left like this, the Sword Saint would fall into Madness.
He was the only one who could prevent that.
'There's also the option of killing the Sword Saint.'
But at this point in time, the Sword Saint was a twelve-year-old girl.
Not the monster the Household Head spoke of.
She simply overflowed with talent to the degree that it felt like a curse.
'How could I kill her?'
Before his Regression, he had learned many things from the Sword Saint.
Not only had he gained enlightenment after his humiliating defeat—
Later, when he had finally become capable of properly wielding a sword,
He received instruction in swordsmanship from the Sword Saint.
And it was then that he also came to know the indescribable loneliness she carried within her.
In that final moment, the one who had taken his life—
Was also the mentor who had taught him what it meant to live.
"So allow me to instruct... the Young Lady. I am confident."
"...Huu. It seems I cannot change your mind, Young Lord. Very well. See it with your own eyes and then judge."
Harsen rose to his feet.
"Prepare the knights. We are going to meet the Young Lady."
A servant bowed their head and stepped out of the reception room.
A short while later.
"Household Head, preparations are complete."
"Young Lord Adrian, follow me."
Harsen and the guard knights.
Together with them, he made his way to a secluded Training Grounds.
Upon arriving at the Training Grounds, he found the young Sword Saint and two maids—
The maids were clinging to each other, trembling violently, keeping their distance far from the Sword Saint.
"Eok."
And the moment they spotted his group, they rolled their eyes back and fainted.
Harsen spared the two collapsed maids not a single glance.
To faint without permission before the Household Head.
To fail to properly carry out their duty as maids in attending the Young Lady.
But because maids capable of even holding a conversation with the Sword Saint were precious personnel—
"Siellin."
Harsen murmured quietly.
The Sword Saint... no, Siellin slowly turned to look their way.
Snow-white hair, half-dead white eyes.
The corners of her mouth were twisted in what seemed like displeasure.
At that, the guard knights fell into formation in one swift motion.
She had merely turned her gaze—
"Why did you come?"
"To introduce you to a new Swordsmanship Instructor."
"...Get lost."
Siellin snapped her head away.
Even at such impertinent behavior, Harsen was completely unfazed.
"They'll just run away again, so what's the point?"
"Then we'll find out soon enough."
He stepped forward.
The guard knights standing behind him recoiled in alarm.
Harsen also moved hastily to restrain him, but—
"It's fine. Just watch."
He was not afraid of Siellin.
"Don't you know my reputation?"
"I do."
"Then why are you acting up? Wondering if the rumors might be false?"
Siellin let out a sigh and raised her sword.
"No. You're not someone who can teach me."
It was an arrogant thing to say, and yet—
There was something mournful in it.
"How impressive can a twelve-year-old brat be?"
"You don't know my reputation, do you?"
"I know the rumors. So what, am I supposed to cry about it?"
He had learned swordsmanship from the Sword Saint.
He was also the only person who had ever driven a sword into the Sword Saint's heart.
There was no way he would lose.
With a smirk, he drew his sword.
"Come at me."
He flicked his finger.
The provocation must have been tremendously effective, because Siellin's face twisted into a fierce scowl.
The guard knights all shifted into combat stances simultaneously.
"Everyone calm down."
He casually waved them off and walked forward unhurriedly.
Everyone looked on in horror, as if watching a person walk straight into the jaws of a beast.
How unfortunate.
Not the guard knights—Siellin.
Why was a twelve-year-old being treated this way?
"You...!"
Siellin's fists trembled.
'Look at that. She's holding back.'
Proof that she could regulate her emotions.
It wouldn't be impossible to raise her.
'Should I set her off.'
He let out a sneer.
Unable to hold back any longer, Siellin charged at him.
And.
Clang!
"...Huh?"
He knocked her down with a single strike.
Siellin, having tumbled to the ground, stared at the sword she had dropped with a look of bewilderment.
As if she had no idea what had just happened to her.
He approached that Siellin.
"Call me Master."
It was what the Sword Saint had said to him, when she saw his improved swordsmanship in the past.
"Call me Master."
He stood before the dumbfounded Siellin.
"I'll make sure you can function like a proper person."
The Sword Saint's voice came back to him.
"I'll make sure you can function like a proper person."
Because this life, I'll be the one to raise you.