A Master's Grace

I seized the hilt.

No one else nearby.

I couldn't sense another presence. Elena had to be the only one who had come charging after me. This was exactly the situation I had wanted.

Drag this out, and I'm the one at a disadvantage.

I could land a solid hit on Elena. But her subordinates were the sort who worshipped her past all reason. If they arrived, her people would have me again, and this time there would be no getting out. Airtight surveillance, and day after day she would wring me dry—like a strip of dried squid.

That, I can't allow.

A master has his pride. I was not about to be squeezed dry, one-sidedly, by my own disciple.

No. Setting pride aside, I had to leave now.

"Master."

Elena spoke to me in a voice thick with rapture, and her hand closed around the hilt.

In an instant the air changed. It trembled. A Swordmaster stood in the realm that dominated space itself. In the game they had fobbed it off as some ground-effect buff or a passive, but the real thing was nothing like that.

The killing intent rising from her body shredded the dark clouds overhead and the snow falling through them.

"…I will attend you again. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠So completely that you never again feel the slightest urge to leave my warm embrace. With all my heart, I will take responsibility for everything."

Aura surged up from Elena and devoured the surroundings. Blue mana shimmered. The world around us froze, and a blizzard whipped into a frenzy.

Her aura—her mana—ruled the space around us. This place belonged entirely to her domain.

"This time, it will be just as you wish, Master. A relationship of complete mutual consent. Not forced confinement."

So that had been eating at her.

To defeat a Swordmaster inside a Swordmaster's own space, you had to bring another Swordmaster.

And in enlightenment, at least, I was one.

It was what came of thrashing and clawing because I had wanted, badly enough to die for it, to live.

"Lena."

I tightened my grip on the hilt. She had seized the space, but she had not yet drawn on her true ultimate.

In the game, an ultimate skill. In the setting, an art also called Mind Sword—Imagery Martial Arts, the manifestation of an inner image's enlightenment upon the living world. She was not using it.

She must have judged that even this was enough to beat me in a straight exchange. My body had recovered, yes, but my mana had been reset; this much, she thought, would do.

Carelessness.

But I was the one who had led her into it. How dangerous carelessness was in a real fight—I was about to teach her that now. As her master.

I awakened my mana apertures.

A roar tore up from the core of me.

There was no pain from internal injuries, but I could feel, in equal measure, how little mana I had left.

I sent it through a single cycle.

Amplification.

And like every technique of its kind, the dead stretch afterward—that so-called sage time, when mana would not answer at all—was simply a given.

But that was only in an ordinary case.

I was different.

A Swordmaster's enlightenment, and the mana control I had forged over ten years of enduring pain, let me govern the amplified mana with ease.

Join that amplified mana to a Swordmaster's enlightenment, and it came down to a single strike. For a moment, I could reproduce a Swordmaster's power.

"The head."

Hearing me, Elena smiled.

A soft metallic chime. The collar in her hand swayed.

I raised my sword toward the sky.

Wind howled around the blade. Small gusts gathered and became a storm.

The root of the Bernstein Cultivation Method was flow. And flow expressed itself as wind. As a storm.

In the original work, too, Damian's skills had been classed as wind-attribute—a unique skill with a very high ceiling. It was also one of the merits of taking the third-faction route, one of the precious few ways to obtain a unique skill in the early game.

Which meant that Damian with his prime restored—no. That I was strong.

If I weren't, I could never have been anyone's master.

"…Kh."

The roar deepened, and the storm condensed upon the edge.

Of course, the false Swordmasters manufactured by those masterminds behind the curtain could swing an Aura Blade as well. But a complete Aura Blade belonged to a Swordmaster alone.

In the game, too, the Aura Blade skill tree opened only after you advanced into the Swordmaster class.

For me, as I was now, it was a hidden art I could call on only for a moment, and only by using Mana Amplification.

Elena's eyes flew wide.

She hadn't known I could use an Aura Blade. I had kept it from her on purpose, and now a brilliant silver radiance gathered along her sword—a glow like starlight. Her own Aura Blade.

"Master. I did not know you could manifest your power in this way."

"I told you to watch your head, Lena."

Just like then. Just like ten years ago, when I had been teaching her the sword, I warned her in advance.

Yes. It had been the same back then. Even after hearing my warning, Lena had gone on taking those blows straight to the head.

"I am not who I was then, Master."

A cold fire kindled in her blue eyes.

Whether she was or she wasn't, I poured every drop of amplified mana into the sword.

A deep thrumming cry. The blade sang. The Aura Blade blazed, and as the power compressed further and further, my sword changed into something like a beam sword out of a film.

My whole body screamed. My mana circuits burned white-hot, and a hideous pain, as if I had been scorched from head to toe, crashed over me.

Even so, I had to do it.

Through a vision dyed in blood, Elena's figure stood perfectly clear. I could see the flow of mana turning with her at its center.

Not a single opening. She's grown well.

Yes. She had grown well. The Elena before me might even have been stronger than the one in the original.

From the instant she saw my Aura Blade, she had gone tense and begun drawing her momentum up. But she was the one who had to subdue me. She could not bring her full power to bear.

I could.

That was enough.

Bracing both feet in the snow, I spoke.

I fired it straight and honest—the compressed force, the whole of my power—at Elena's head.

Aura dense with overwhelming mana tore space to shreds as it advanced. A ripping shriek. The mana shockwave swept everything around us; space warped, and cracks ran through the empty air. The domain Elena had made was splitting apart.

"Master…"

Elena's eyes widened, and she raised her sword.

The flow—the flow was crossing over. This space was mine now. I could feel every current.

"…You still… even now, you…"

The initiative of the flow had passed to me. She could not block it. She would know that, too.

"You always… keep teaching me."

The Aura Blade burning along Elena's sword met my strike as it crossed the ruptured space and flew.

The impact detonated. Space distorted, and a roar erupted. An explosion of light filled everything, and snow scattered.

"Hah—khak!"

I hacked out a cough. All my mana was gone. Weakness flooded in, and I felt about to collapse from exhaustion, but I held on. Sage time, the aftereffect of Mana Amplification, had come ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crashing down.

When every roar had cleared, Elena lay in a crater.

"…Master…"

She blinked.

"…Don't go… Stay by my side… Always, forever… I'll take responsibility for you…"

"I have to go."

I said it looking straight at her.

"…But you…"

"I have something I have to do."

Elena blinked. Her body trembled.

"Promise me this. When it's finished… I'll come back here. After that, well… do as you like."

Yes. If everything ended well, I would come back north and settle into that quiet retirement—a life of rest and recovery. Together with Elena.

"Until then, you guard our nest."

It would be a problem if Elena left her post. There was no telling how the northern quests, or the hostile factions, might move. Of course, I had already confirmed—over more than a week of heated hours with her—that Elena did not listen to me particularly well. That was part of what had driven me to decide I had to move myself.

Even after this, she would track me. Still, better to say it.

"…Master. Have you forgotten? I'm a wicked disciple… who doesn't properly listen to you…"

"Well, then I suppose ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I raised my disciple wrong. I'm going. Take care."

"Don't go…"

Elena left those last words and let her head fall. She had fainted.

I turned my back on her and set my feet the other way.

Ugh… my legs are shaking…

They trembled under me, and my whole body screamed. As expected, Swordmaster mode was not something to be used lightly. Mana Amplification, too, was no art to throw around carelessly.

Still, it was a blessing beyond measure that the rejuvenation had healed every internal injury. If it hadn't, I would be coughing blood right now, pale middle-aged face and all, crawling across the ground like a corpse.

I tried to push my shaking legs on through the cold snowfield.

That was when it happened.

From far off, I sensed several powerful presences, and a moment later a number of maids alighted lightly upon the snow. Sword User–class maids who had managed the detached palace—and at their head, a chilly beauty with mint-colored hair streaming behind her.

The head maid of the detached palace, shining at the highest grade of Sword Expert. The woman who oversaw the place, the one I had faced second only to Elena over the past week, was looking at me.

Shit. Am I completely fucked?

Why were they this fast? Fighting her now, without a shred of mana left, was a guaranteed loss. Had I miscalculated? If they caught me again, I wasn't getting out. This time they would stamp me as fully domesticated.

That could not happen. For now, I had to pretend I was fine. Pretend I still had something left.

Her eyes met mine. A brief silence passed.

The head maid gathered the unconscious Elena into her arms. Then she turned her back on me and left me where I stood.

What?

Was she letting me go? Or had she fallen for the empty show of strength? What was she plotting?

No. Did that even matter right now? What mattered was that the head maid had helped me.

I made sure she was gone, then walked on, doing my best to look unhurried. To the very end, the head maid did not come after me.

Good. I was out of confinement.

Now the goal was the central region. A place Elena's hand did not reach. The Imperial Capital, where the protagonist first appeared.

"Are you awake?"

Elena woke to a voice that was not her master's—the first such voice in what felt like a long while.

No. It had not been that long. A week. Only a week, and yet those heated hours with him had felt like a year.

Elena came to her senses.

"Are you all right?"

It was the voice of Clara, the head maid. Elena's right hand—the orphan she had personally selected and taught the sword after ascending to the seat of Grand Duchess.

"And Master?"

"He got away. By the time I arrived, he had already…"

"I see."

At the head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠maid's report, Elena did not rebuke her. Master's final blow had been proof that he was still her master. He was not an opponent some head maid could have stopped.

Even so, she had no intention of letting him go so easily. Just as he himself had said, she was not a disciple who listened—and his disciples were not limited to her alone.

Elena lifted a mirror. It was a magic mirror, and when she breathed mana into it, a map rose upon the glass: a map of the continent. At its center, a single point was marked. Master's location.

Master. I will be with you.

Confirming where he was, Elena stroked her lower belly. Over the past week, she had taken him in. With her whole body. Right here. His grace still remained, and it was warm.

If I had known it would be like this, I should not have bothered with contraception.

Master. Thinking so, Elena smiled, and then she spoke.

"Head Maid."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"See to it that Master is tracked."

"Understood."

At Elena's command, the head maid launched herself away. Watching her go, Elena went on stroking her lower belly—smooth, and striking for the clean eleven-line of muscle there. She felt the warmth within.

And she smiled.

Forever.