The Deflecting Kiss and the Demon Assassins' Approach
Yeret kicked off the ground and leaped into the air, her large frame for a woman vanishing from sight in an instant.
‘Pretty fast.’
But in a case like this, rather than trying to track her with my eyes,
it was simpler to predict her movements from the sound.
I relied not on rational judgment but on animal instinct, thrusting out my wooden sword.
My blade naturally traced a horizontal line through the air,
deflecting her plunging strike.
Zing—.
The shock rippling up my arm made my bones quake like they were caught in an earthquake.
“Heh, you're really giving it your all.”
“Scary! You blocked that…? I was dead serious…!”
I'd walked the path of the sword my entire previous life.
My mind was packed with experience, so the moment our blades clashed once, I could instantly gauge most opponents' skill.
In ranks, Yeret sat somewhere between peak B-grade and bottom A-grade.
At that level, she could easily command knights in any decent house.
The knight captain—a woman whose name I hadn't even bothered to memorize properly.
I'd sized her up similarly in my head back then.
But perhaps it was the blood of the legendary hero Max flowing through her veins.
The power she wielded now slightly surpassed the knight captain's.
Well, head-to-head, it'd be a toss-up—like comparing acorns.
The edge where the knight captain came up short?
Purely motivation.
‘The knight captain just humored me briefly with her sword and got wrecked for it. Yeret, though… she wants something from me.’
Thinking of it that way was almost funny.
I'd only said one thing: beat me and get a reward…
Boom!!
How precious that one promise must have been to her.
She was desperately unfolding our family's secret sword techniques, all to land even a single clean hit on me.
“Veins bulging in your eyes. Breathing's ragged too.”
“…Focus, Valter. Big sis isn't done yet.”
“That's my line.”
Evidently,
men in this world were truly worth risking your life for.
I'd vaguely grasped that much before.
But this was the first time I'd deliberately drawn out a reaction like this.
Gazing down at her, my mood was… peculiar.
To put it more precisely,
it was fun.
‘Things are so straightforward here. Getting a woman this desperate… it’s this easy.’
But separate from the quiet satisfaction swelling in my chest,
dragging this spar out any longer was a waste of time.
The instant I'd pegged her as A- to B-grade,
she'd had zero chance of beating me.
Clang—.
Clang!!
“Just once…! Just graze me once, that's all…!!”
“……….”
So I did.
I exhaled slowly,
read her now-predictable sword path,
and targeted the hand of the girl closing in.
Smack!!
“Ugh…?!”
I struck her wrist.
The searing pain made her lose her grip, and her sword flew free.
I caught it mid-flip as she tumbled back.
“You got too worked up, sis.”
“Ow…….”
Thud—.
I planted her sword in the ground.
And with that, the match was decided.
Considering her pride,
I hadn't gone for anything flashy like with the knight captain.
But sometimes, a clean, concise finish packs the biggest punch.
“…Total defeat.”
“Young master…!”
“After the knight captain, now Lady Yeret so easily—.”
The proof was in every knight watching, their jaws slack in stunned silence.
“You pushed her hard. But looks like you'll have to claim that wish next time.”
I knew exactly how a knight would react to being publicly proven inferior,
so I hurried to load up some salvaging words.
But the look in her eyes as she stared at me?
Not the gaze of a defeated knight I'd seen so many times before.
“Wow……….”
“Sis…?”
“V-Valter. You….”
Her face held the wide-eyed awe of someone glimpsing a lifelong idol.
“I poured my lifetime of honed swordsmanship into that, dead serious—and not a single clean hit landed. You slipped through a gap I couldn't even imagine and disarmed me.”
Where else was she supposed to pour that sincerity?
Just as I wondered if she wasn't embarrassed admitting she'd gnashed her teeth to beat her little brother,
“The Sword Ghost himself come down…? Nah, you're just Valter.”
Her words hit my ears.
My danger sensors went haywire.
‘…Dangerous. Wait, I've seen this look before.’
It was exactly like Valeria's eyes, back when she'd figured out I was the Sword Ghost and we'd met privately in her bedroom.
Probe even a little, dig into the origins,
and my secret would spill out in seconds. Anxiety crashed over me.
Well, Yeret finding out probably wouldn't be a problem,
but not yet.
“Ridiculous. Just a coincidence in names.”
“If I changed my name to Valter, could I get that strong too? You're… incredible….”
But
a vague brush-off like that wouldn't erase the seed planted in her mind.
I'd tried leaning into the moment for fun,
but had I overplayed it?
So,
convinced I couldn't leave it like this, I racked my brain for a breakthrough in seconds.
‘Damn family lineage—they know the Sword Ghost inside out. If that's fueling the suspicion…’
Then the most un-Sword-Ghost-like action should fix it.
…….
….
…
That far in my thoughts, I swallowed a silent sigh—purely to dodge this for now—
and approached her sweat-soaked form.
Mwah—.
“Eh……….”
“Anyway, good work out there, sis.”
A kiss I'd never tried before, utterly awkward.
On tiptoes, right to her forehead.
Not cheek, not lips—just forehead.
Perfectly safe as family affection, right?
‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…’
I patted her shoulder, gave her a light hug.
Even after all that, with sis unusually silent, I glanced up.
Her face beet-red, unable to even meet my eyes,
head swimming with hundreds of question marks,
frozen stiff in place.
‘Did she die…?’
No, couldn't be.
Regret stabbed me for the frivolous act—unworthy of the man once revered as the Sword Ghost.
“I'd love to spar the other knights too, but I've got urgent business. I'll head out. Keep training hard and make our house proud.”
I tossed my wooden sword aside like trash
and bolted from the scene.
Damn it.
Shouldn't have messed with Yeret…!
Scratching my head in the hallway, wondering what the hell I'd done,
that's when it hit.
“………What the hell is this.”
A smell wafting from somewhere.
I halted, staring blankly out the layered windows.
Sniffed again to check if it was my imagination—same result.
“Foul, putrid stench of garbage… rotting waste.”
A normal person wouldn't even notice.
No awareness of it.
But I'm Valter.
Failing to identify this smell would be the real anomaly.
“Around fifty of 'em. Flaunting blood like this so openly? Obvious they've lived ripping people apart like livestock.”
The ones I despised most in this world.
The demons.
No idea why, but they were closing in on our territory with clear malice.
And with blood-scent this thick?
High-ranking assassins, no doubt.
Wondering why ones like that would hit a backwater like this? Pointless.
By their approach,
we'd face them tomorrow.
Tomorrow? That was as good as fucked.
That realization hit,
and any lingering embarrassment vanished.
My steps turned furious as I redirected toward Valeria.
Why?
No time, that's why.
What was happening in our territory tomorrow?
A festival.
Festival.
The moment those things dropped into a place packed with people?
Hell was guaranteed.
I'd faced assassins plenty of times.
I knew full well.
Each one packing infantry battalion-level power, moving with precision and organization?
Not a soul at the festival would survive.
‘You think I'll let that happen?’
But
even as I thought it, a vicious smile crept across my lips.
These assassin scum must be so drunk on their own strength,
they hadn't even checked who was watching over this house before charging into Tak County.
These bastards.