10. Proper Education, and the Sweltering Summer Lord's Castle Front Yard
Under the blazing sunlight, three kids stood solemnly in the front yard of the Lord's Castle during a sweltering summer day.
An 8-year-old kid, Seria. A 9-year-old kid, Veron. And me, the 6-year-old self-appointed referee.
Anyone seeing us might think we were just playing house. But even kids have their romances. The atmosphere was dead serious. Especially Veron, who held his wooden sword high like he was some legendary knight.
"Hoho, not bad form. But it won't work on me. Surrender now, and I'll show you my vast magnanimity."
Veron snorted and pointed his sword tip at Seria. His confidence was universe-level.
I knew, of course, that Seria would win. Still, since this was like her first real spar, I figured she might be nervous, so I sidled up to her.
"Seria, you okay?"
Seria whispered in my ear with a troubled look.
"Young master, what should I do?"
"Why? Scared?"
"No. There are too many openings... I don't know where to hit without killing him."
"Ah... I see."
My worries were unfounded. To a genius's eyes, the opponent must look like Swiss cheese full of holes.
I gave a wry smile and patted Seria's shoulder.
"Still, he's a precious young master from another house, so go easy on him. If you break any bones, Dad'll be in trouble."
"Go easy? Ngh... Got it."
Seria nodded with an ambiguous expression and resumed her stance.
"Then, begin! Ready, go!"
At my signal, Veron let out a kiai.
"Yaaah! Take this! Gale Thrust!"
Veron charged. Gale? It was barely a breeze.
Seria twisted her body slightly with a yawn-worthy expression. Whoosh! Veron's wooden sword sliced through empty air.
"Huh?"
Veron didn't stop and swung again.
"Iyap! Hup! Chaa!"
Left and right, up and down. You could tell he'd learned some basics. But Seria, rooted to the spot, just bobbed her upper body like swatting away an annoying fly, dodging every attack.
"Ha! Haa! Dodging forever—what're you gonna do!?"
Veron panted as he yelled. He seemed to think Seria was flustered by his attacks, even though he was the one exhausted.
But as one minute, two minutes passed, Veron's face twisted.
"Huh? Why isn't it hitting?"
Of course not. You're fighting air right now.
I watched with arms crossed, but figuring Veron would collapse from exhaustion at this rate, I decided to intervene.
"Seria!"
"Yes, young master."
Seria replied while dodging Veron's attack.
"Give him a power clash from there! But weakly! Hollywood action style!"
"Huh, Hollywood action?"
Seria's eyes went wide.
"Just pretend to get pushed back! Like, 'Uwaaah!'"
"Aha."
Seria nodded quick-wittedly. Just then, Veron swung down again.
"Die!"
Instead of dodging, Seria blocked with her wooden sword. Thwack!
She parried Veron's sword, then half a second later cried out in a dramatic textbook scream, "U, uwaaah!" and stumbled back a couple steps.
Our Seria... hate to say it, but her acting was terrible.
But Veron was even worse. He bought it hook, line, and sinker.
"Puhaha! See? You can't beat my strength!"
It worked? Veron's nose was in the sky. He gripped his sword smugly and sneered at Seria.
"You, a mere maid, put up a fight? But you're so sloppy. Like master, like maid."
Oh crap.
"......"
Seria's movements froze. Veins bulged on her lowered forehead.
Oh no.
I clutched my forehead.
"Hey, Veron! Run!"
I shouted urgently, but it was too late.
"Who... dares insult whom?"
Seria raised her head. Her red eyes blazed fiercely.
Veron flinched and stepped back.
"W-what's with the sudden attitude?"
"The price for insulting the young master... one bone won't be enough."
"Eek?!"
Seria kicked off the ground and charged. A clump of dirt exploded.
And then—
Bam!
"Gwaaack!"
One strike. Seria's wooden sword knocked Veron's aside and slammed into his side.
Veron's sword flew into the distant sky, and he rolled on the ground.
"Ugh, hack! It hurts! It hurts!"
Veron wailed, tears and snot streaming.
But Seria didn't stop. Exuding dark aura, she trudged toward the fallen boy.
"Get up. It's not over."
"S-save me! I surrender! Surrender!"
"Like master, like maid, was it? Say it again."
"I was wrong! My bad!"
Veron crawled away in terror. Seria dragging her wooden sword looked straight out of a horror flick.
Ahem, even I'm too scared to approach.
Now, what do I tell Dad? I scratched my head awkwardly.
Then—
Bang!
The Lord's Castle main gate burst open. Someone came running out.
"What kind of madman is this!"
It was Pides Viscount. Pale-faced and drenched in cold sweat, he fled.
Looks like after a day of enduring Dad's sunny smile, his mental broke.
"D-Dad!!"
Veron sobbed and clung to the viscount.
"Dad! She hit me! That maid's trying to kill me!"
"Hng! Son!"
Pides Viscount barely glanced at Veron before snatching his hand, peeking behind.
"Hurry! Let's go! We can't stay in this madhouse anymore!"
"Dad?"
"This is hell! That lunatic's a devil! He guts you while smiling!"
Full-on breakdown. Dad, what the heck did you do...?
He tucked his son under his arm and sprinted to the carriage. Before the coachman could even grab the reins, the viscount kicked the horse's rear.
"Go! Now!"
The carriage kicked up dust and sped off.
His wail echoed from the window.
"Like I'll ever come back here!"
Rumble rumble. Whiiiine~
What was that? Seria and I stared blankly at the receding carriage.
Then Dad strolled out from the entrance, relaxed.
"Huh? Viscount? The tea's still plenty—where you off to?"
Dad looked around puzzled, teacup in hand.
"Already gone? Such a hasty fellow. Should've stayed longer."
"......"
I shook my head.
Dad's the real MVP. Scarier than Seria's sword—his pure-heartedness.
Dad beamed at me innocently.
"Uh, son? Did I do something wrong? Why'd he leave in such a rush?"
"......No, Dad. You did nothing wrong."
I gave him a thumbs-up.
"One thing's for sure—you protected our territory's peace."
"Really? Heh heh, glad to hear it."
Dad stroked his beard, clueless. Beside him, Seria sheathed her wooden sword and muttered quietly.
"Young master."
"Yeah?"
"Next time, can I really chop him up?"
"No. Hold back."
We wryly smiled at the fleeing father-son duo.
Anyway, the unwanted guests were gone, and our territory's peace was safe. That should do it.
—
Northern winters are long and harsh. Summers, short. But don't underestimate them—you'll regret it.
It's like all the year's sunlight crashes in during that brief span. Bottom line: it's brutally hot, just like anywhere else.
"Ugh, melting... melting away."
I'm sprawled starfish-style under the big zelkova tree in the Lord's Castle inner courtyard.
They say if you sit in the shade doing nothing, it's not hot. Total lie.
"Hot... so hot I'm gonna die......"
"Young master, your clothes'll get dirty. Sit up."
Seria, fanning me beside me, nagged. But she was suffering the heat too.
"It's fine. Better than steaming to death. So what if it gets a bit dirty."
"Sigh... Still, you're the next lord. Gotta keep some dignity."
"Why don't you lie down too, Seria? It's better."
"I'm fine."
Seria grumbled but plopped down next to me anyway.
She usually wore training leather, but today, beaten by the heat, she had on a thin summer dress. Probably from the maids' fashion show on her.
Sky-blue dress. Hem fluttering in the breeze, constantly fanning her collar from the heat—adorably cute.
Sweat beaded on her white nape.
Ah, I miss AC.
My past life's civilization aches. One button, and paradise coolness.
This world has magic, but no AC?
Wait, magic?
I bolted upright.
Right—if it doesn't exist, make it. I've got magic as my cheat key.
"Seria."
"Yes? Water?"
"No. Let's go to my room quick."
I grabbed her arm and tugged. But Seria didn't budge. Strong for an 8-year-old.
"Why the room? It's hot—rest here."
"No, I wanna show you something."
"Show me?"
Seria's eyes narrowed. Classic this guy's plotting trouble look.
"Young master, what're you up to this time?"
"Uh, magic research?"
"Hoo, magic research."
Seria crossed her arms, glaring.
"Then do it here. Nice and open. And why keep glancing around? Like you're guilty."
"......"
Sharp as ever. Truth is, if I fail and it explodes here, Dad catches me. After the study incident, he's sensitive about my magic experiments.
Surface: "My son's a genius!" Inside: terrified the house'll collapse.
But without luring Seria, it's pointless. Better than tinkering alone—I need a spotter.
Strategy shift. Brute force fails? Go emotional.
"Seria."
"Yes, young master. Won't work."
"That outfit today."
"......Yes?"
"Super cute summer dress. Suits you great."
"......!!"
Seria's eyes went round.
