Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Having a Master Isn’t Always a Good Thing
“So you’re saying Sir Beril will teach me swordsmanship?”
Beril was a man with combat skills worthy of his position as the Holy Maiden’s escort. Not quite a Sword Master, but close enough that his skill stood in the uppermost tier.
Having someone like that teach me swordsmanship was honestly welcome news.
“Why?” I asked.
There are no such things as kindness without reason.
“I can’t just stay here and eat for free,” he replied.
“Oh.”
What a shining example of upright character.
“…I could teach you swordsmanship too,” came a grumble from nearby.
I ignored the voice of a sulking Evelyn in the distance. Sorry, but I had no intention of learning swordsmanship from her. No, it wasn’t just unwillingness. It was practically impossible.
I had tried before. After all, she was destined to become a future Sword Master.
The result was… disastrous.
“Just… watch the opponent, dodge where they’re about to attack, and strike their opening.”
Damn it.
How was anyone supposed to learn from that?
“Are you by any chance not a so-called genius type?”
“Huh? Ahahaha! So you’ve already trained under Sir Evelyn, I see.”
Beril laughed as if he immediately understood.
“Ah, I’m not trying to speak ill of Sir Evelyn, but she’s a different kind of genius. Most geniuses take one thing and master ten. But Sir Evelyn… she understands a hundred or even ten thousand things without being taught even one.”
That was right.
Evelyn didn’t really have a “process.” She swung her sword, and instinctively understood everything she needed to do.
There was no such thing as multiple paths in the sword. There was only one truth.
And Evelyn embodied that truth.
A path only she could walk. A sword only she could wield.
From that perspective, Beril was wrong.
She didn’t understand ten thousand things.
She understood one.
The single correct path among ten thousand possibilities.
“If Sir Beril teaches me, I’m sure it will be a great help.”
That was sincere.
Being taught by him would not only improve my swordsmanship, but also give me a valuable connection to a knight of the Holy Maiden’s escort.
“Luka…”
“Just call me Luka casually.”
“Then I’ll do so gratefully.”
Beril brought out wooden swords and handed one to me.
The meaning was clear.
Fight me.
“Luka. Come at me.”
“Yes.”
I pushed off the ground and charged forward, swinging my sword.
Clang!
The wooden swords collided with a sharp vibration.
My grip trembled, threatening to let go, so I tightened it harder.
The force of the impact tried to tear through my arms.
I twisted my body slightly and redirected the blade, aiming for Beril’s neck.
He blocked it effortlessly and chuckled.
“Your flexibility is quite good. Most boys your age are stiff.”
Then he moved.
Whoosh.
In an instant, he closed the distance.
‘Below.’
His sword came from underneath.
Too close to block normally.
So I released my sword.
And grabbed his arms, pulling them downward.
For a normal opponent, this would be enough to break their balance, but Beril simply allowed it out of curiosity.
As his posture dropped, I tried to drive my knee upward—
But he simply bumped his head forward into my body to break the flow.
“Discarding your sword. That’s usually not an option for knights.”
“I’m not a knight.”
“True. And I’m not criticizing. In fact, I’m praising you.”
He wasn’t lying. His tone was softer than before.
“I always tell knight candidates this: be ready to abandon your weapon.”
For holy knights, the sword was not everything. It was merely a tool to eliminate those who defile the name of God.
A tool that could be discarded at any time.
That was exactly why I wanted to learn from him.
Not just swordsmanship.
But how to win.
“So Luka wasn’t expecting me to teach him swordsmanship specifically.”
“…That is not because I think you are lacking as a teacher, Sir Beril.”
“I understand. Holy knights may be below knights in pure swordsmanship, but I am not.”
He smiled faintly.
“I don’t specialize in swords alone. I can use any weapon at a high level.”
That was what I needed.
“Magic energy grows more natural the more you use a weapon.”
“Same with divine power. It becomes natural with repetition.”
Then Beril opened a small pouch.
A spatial storage bag.
Weapons poured out onto the ground.
“I can use about 80 percent of a weapon’s potential. But I don’t focus on just one.”
He drew a dagger.
“I may lose to knights in monster combat.”
But—
Whoosh!
“But in duels between people…”
The blade stopped just beside me.
“No one matches me.”
I smiled.
That was exactly what I wanted.
Not monster hunting.
Not divine battles.
Human combat.
The unpredictable battlefield of people killing people.
That was where everything mattered.
“From now on, use all these weapons and attack me.”
“…What?”
“All of them. Until you can use every weapon naturally.”
Wait.
That wasn’t some secret training method.
That was just—
“From now on, call me Instructor.”
“…Huh?”
Crack.
A whip struck my side.
“I said, Instructor.”
“Yes, Instructor!”
I realized it then.
Beril was insane.
Not because he refused payment.
But because he genuinely enjoyed teaching.
“Start with the dagger.”
He flicked it toward me.
I caught it instinctively.
Cold sweat ran down my back.
This man was dangerous in a different way.
“Begin with one weapon at a time. Eventually, you will understand your own style.”
It wasn’t some mystical training method.
It was just brute repetition.
“Because if you don’t… you’ll die later. So what’s the point?”
Unfortunately, I had no choice but to learn.