Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: Side Story - A Certain Princess's Memories (9)
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# 128
#12 Their Circumstances: A Certain Swordsman's Circumstances.
“Urk!”
I barely dodged the dagger that grazed my thigh, but another one came flying right after.
“What kind of butler walks around armed only with daggers?!”
My respect for my opponent vanished amid the relentless throws.
I’d been asked to evaluate the skills of one of the imperial swordsmen, not an assassin.
“Ah, don’t worry. I already reported everything to the palace.”
“Is that true, Your Highness?”
This was none other than the imperial palace of the vast Karan Empire.
Carrying weapons without permission was illegal.
For the exclusive butler of an imperial princess to walk around with that many? And the palace approved it?
“Yeah. Pretty sure it is, Old Man. He filed a ton of paperwork last time to get permission for weapons... Honestly, I didn’t think he’d submit spares ahead of time.”
“Then... No, attacking even while you’re talking to Your Highness! Doesn’t he know basic etiquette toward his liege?!”
“Yeah, Old Man. Ast apparently has no clue about that stuff.”
To think someone could make the emperor’s most favored princess say something like that.
Visiting the palace after so long, I was reminded once again that the world is wide and full of lunatics.
“In that case.”
It wouldn’t be so bad to teach this fool who disrespects the sword a lesson about it, as a representative of swordsmen.
“Alright then... Gahk?!”
“Ah, looks like the drug’s finally kicking in.”
What did this bastard just say?
“Your Highness?”
“Sorry. I knew he was crazy, but not this level.”
The princess averted her eyes, unable to meet mine.
He’s a butler, not a swordsman?
Fine, I get that.
So he relies mainly on throwing?
That makes sense too.
But, but!
“Using poison as an imperial servant?!”
It wasn’t a lethal poison.
The kind that paralyzes to restrict movement, not to kill.
But poison is poison.
No one residing in the palace should use such a thing.
“Hm? From what I know, the palace sees more poisonings than anywhere else...”
“Th-that’s...”
Her puzzled counterquestion left me speechless.
“Imperial history shows an average of 2.8 poison deaths per month, and for royals, 4 out of 10 die from poison.”
“No, that’s not what I meant...”
Poison is indeed common among nobles for assassinating rivals.
But what I meant was that using it as a servant of the empire—especially a royal’s—is shameful!
“Ah, I get what you’re saying. Something like, using poison shames Your Highness, your liege, right?”
“Y-yes, exactly!”
I thought she finally understood, but that was a huge mistake.
“It shames Her Highness, not me.”
“What?”
What nonsense is coming out of this guy’s mouth?
“Opening!”
“Kuh! Y-you... Do you even realize what you’re saying?!”
He was openly insulting royalty.
His own liege... right in front of her!
“Ast, even I have limits to my patience. Isn’t this too much?”
“If you’re unhappy, just fire me, Your Highness. From the start, I wanted to be just another quiet palace butler.”
“Normal? You? That’s a line you prepared to make me laugh, right? Is this where I should crack up?”
Their exchange no longer felt like liege and vassal.
It suited a dingy tavern.
Like comedians embellishing strangers’ tales over drinks for laughs, performing in the palace.
“I *am* normal.”
“No, Ast. You don’t know yourself at all. I’ll certify it: you’re the craziest lunatic I’ve ever seen in the palace.”
“No, Your Highness. I was... Ahem. No.”
“You were about to say *I’m* crazier, weren’t you?”
“Me? Never, Your Highness. How could I insult my liege like that?”
“Lying through your teeth? Someone might think you’re a loyal retainer.”
The vassal wore an utterly annoyed expression, while his liege looked like she was dying of amusement.
And...
“Your Highness, why exactly did you summon me?”
Caught between them, providing endless comic fodder, I finally set my sword down.
“Hm? Officially, to check Old Man’s skills, since he’s supposed to guide my sword training.”
“And the real reason?”
“To give you a taste of your own medicine, since you screwed me over.”
“Your Highness...”
Sticking out her tongue playfully, she looked innocently girlish for her age.
“But it feels like I ate all the medicine alone...”
“Sorry, Old Man.”
“Haa...”
I couldn’t help but sigh.
Even for imperial royalty, this would justify storming out.
But he had once saved the current emperor’s wife.
He couldn’t betray the earnest request of that emperor’s daughter here.
“Please be honest from now on, Your Highness. And... no more fights with this absurd guy.”
“Got it, Gramps. Honestly, even I’m a bit thrown off. Poison in the palace, and so brazenly... Behind you!”
Clang!
“What is this?!”
I turned, batting away a dagger flying at my back.
“Hm? Attacking, obviously?”
“The match isn’t over!”
“No one conceded defeat, and you suddenly dropped your sword to chat with Her Highness.”
“Didn’t you keep attacking too?”
“Ah, my weapons were running low, so I just restocked when I had the chance.”
The scattered daggers around had vanished.
Seeing him now holding even the long sword he started with, I looked to Her Highness.
“Your Highness, are you really leaving this bastard as your exclusive butler?”
“To hear such language from Old Man... Guess I underestimated Ast’s talents.”
Watching her cackle at my curse, I felt doomed.
She’d inherited that trait perfectly.
“Lady Lea, as Her Highness’s guard, you’d let such a dangerous man roam free?”
Time to shift targets.
“Sir Ast wants to quit, but Her Highness won’t let him, so I can’t do anything.”
“Exactly. I just want to ditch exclusive butler duty and clean the palace as a regular one.”
Lady Lea fidgeted under my gaze but offered no real help.
“Just admit defeat. Honestly, with the paralysis spreading and no change in the situation, weren’t you talking to Her Highness to end it quietly?”
I did want to quit.
But that was from sheer absurdity, not defeat.
My training wasn’t so shallow I’d lose to this clown over mere paralysis.
“Our Highness doesn’t go back on her word, but she’ll nitpick ambiguous endings to make more hassle... Better to call it a loss here, good for everyone...”
“No. Losing isn’t good.”
“Huh?”
Seriously. For the first time in ages, I raised my sword in earnest.
“Not good. I didn’t want this, but as one representing swordsmen...”
“Uh, Ast. Old Man seems serious.”
“Ah, Sir Ast...”
“What’s with that thrilled look, Your Highness?! And Lady Lea, why the pitying gaze?!”
Sensing the shift, he hurled daggers frantically, but none grazed me.
“Even I am known as the Sword Heaven.”
“Ah, wait. Your Highness? Isn’t this overkill?”
“What’s overkill is everything he’s done to the Sword Heaven so far. It’s fine, Ast. He won’t kill you. You need a good thrashing.”
Her giggling made his expression turn deadly serious too.
“Lady Lea, mind lending your sword? You can just toss it.”
“Huh? My sword?”
“Yeah. Facing the Sword Heaven, hailed as the sky by swordsmen... Might as well do it properly.”
“Well, borrowing a sword is still...”
“Didn’t you promise one wish if I beat Her Highness last time? I’m cashing it now.”
“Ah, no...”
After hesitating teary-eyed, Lady Lea handed him her sword.
“It’s a sword bestowed directly by His Majesty, Sir Ast. Please don’t throw it...”
“I’ll try.”
“Not *try*... Please, really don’t...”
As she retreated, eyeing her sword anxiously, he smiled at me.
“Thanks for waiting.”
“Not afraid?”
“Afraid? How often does a swordsman get to cross blades with the Sword Heaven, stakes on the line?”
“Weren’t you no swordsman earlier?”
“Two swords in hand—hard to claim that now, right?”
“Hoo...”
His aura had completely changed from before.
Raising both swords seriously, his form alone screamed first-rate swordsman.
“You’ve trained with the blade.”
“Trained, yeah. Had to learn to survive this harsh world.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“That’s *my* job!”
Swords clashed.
No more words needed.
Swordsmen speak through steel.
The moment blades meet, talk ends.
‘Not what I expected...’
Impressively skilled.
In an era where flashy knights lack basics, a poison-dagger guy with solid fundamentals?
“Where’d you learn?”
“Taught myself, mostly!”
Each strike. Heavy.
Perfect weight and power transfer—takes years of swinging to master.
‘Minimal movement too.’
Dodges with a step or half-step, minimal distance. Always ready to counter.
“Mercenary?”
“Had to, to survive.”
His occasional footwork: common mercenary dirty tricks.
Unlike his mismatched sword aura, it fit perfectly.
‘Confusing.’
His style’s roots are for human foes.
But it feels more monster-hunting.
Especially techniques for giants, habitual among long-time monster slayers—yet seamless against humans.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six!”
“Heh, weird. Very weird.”
Some are geniuses.
Growing at unimaginable speeds.
But they lack experience from rushing ahead.
Not this one.
No genius. Average, definitively.
Yet his blade holds years beyond his age—vast experience.
From someone half my age... swordsmanship with my level of polish.
“As expected of Her Highness’s retainer...?”
“If that’s praise, thank you!”
“Praise it is!”
How many accumulate such experience young?
“Then I won’t hold back!”
“Come!”
Paralysis poison?
Crude earlier attacks?
Disrespect to his liege?
Irrelevant.
Now, he’s just another swordsman facing me!
Victory by blade alone!
“Dwarven style, sure-kill.”
“Hm?”
Dwarven? He learned dwarf swordsmanship too?!
I’ve never even fought dwarves—how much experience does he have?!
But his follow-up words, and...
“Blade launch!”
“You bastardttt!”
Seeing hidden blades fly from his shoes, I realized anew: he’s no swordsman, just a bastard.