Duel (1)
For real.
If you sit quietly on a bench and listen carefully, the rumors of one man drift in on the wind.
Someone says he threw cake at the lady of the von Grind family even before enrollment.
Someone says he beat three second-year seniors so badly on the first day of school that they were seriously injured.
Someone says that in his first sparring match, everyone was so terrified of him they couldn't even think of crossing swords and surrendered immediately.
Someone says he was dissatisfied with that and told the teacher to fight him, earning himself penalty points.
All of it was abnormal, irrational stuff that made you doubt your own ears without thinking.
...That must be the guy who ordered the reverse blade sword.
Considering what Master Otar had said—"He's skilled but a madman"—the man named Ian was surely the one who'd commissioned the yoroi-doshi.
At first, she'd wanted to meet him because of Otar's words, but hearing these rumors made her hesitate.
From the gossip alone, he sounded like a rabid dog who might bite anyone who approached. If something happened because she'd gone carelessly, who knew what damage it might cause.
...Being from the Sword Saint's lineage isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Others might call it a luxurious worry, but sometimes she thought it would have been better to be born into an ordinary noble family—or even a commoner one.
Whatever she did, the label "Sword Saint's kid" always followed her, robbing her of any freedom.
The people who gathered around were just flies hoping for scraps, buzzing around.
Being surrounded by people who only cared about her name, not her, and listening to their fawning made her question why she even bothered.
...Not that I'll ever become the Sword Saint anyway.
She didn't particularly want to, but even if she did, it wouldn't be her—it would be her sister.
As the Sword Saint's little sister, her own middling talent didn't even qualify her as a spare. So why couldn't they just ignore her?
...That guy must be weaker than my sister, right?
At the same age as her, he'd managed to slice through Master Otar's masterpiece, the White Rose armor—that was praiseworthy.
But no matter how impressive, he couldn't hold a candle to her sister.
Her sister was like their father, born blessed by the gods themselves.
Her strength was so otherworldly that every time Elaine saw it, awe turned to fear.
If only her sister had learned even a fraction of that swordsmanship, plus how to consider her position in life...
If her sister were here, she wouldn't think twice about her status—she'd charge straight at that Ian guy if it looked fun.
Of course, with her sister's skill, nothing Elaine worried about would happen, but the problem was the heir to the next Sword Saint acting so recklessly.
It would be nice if their father scolded her, but unfortunately, he was the same type.
If it was a fight his sister might lose, he'd laugh heartily instead of stopping her.
She'd wondered more than once if she was the only sane one in this family.
After graduating the academy, she'd marry off. Would they really be fine without her?
They were okay before I was born, so they'll probably be fine...
Yeah, they'd be fine.
But no matter how much she thought it over, nagging "what ifs" kept surfacing, and a sigh slipped out unbidden.
"Haa..."
As if drawn by that sigh.
She lifted her head at the gaze directed her way from somewhere, and there was a familiar face she'd seen a few times before.
"Is something troubling you, milady?"
The white-haired veteran knight who appeared with those words was Peter van Fortress.
Until last year, he'd been captain of the Royal Direct Fourth Knight Order, one of the kingdom's strongest, but now he was retired.
"Sir Peter? Why are you at the academy...?"
"Truth be told, I've volunteered to nurture the next generation here. I'll be taking charge of the soon-to-be-formed S-Class, so I came to pay my respects in advance."
"It's not set in stone yet. And if anyone's giving greetings, it should be the student—me—first."
"As humble as the rumors say! But as a knight, I can't trouble the Sword Saint's daughter with such formalities!"
The Sword Saint's name held absolute power not just in the kingdom, but for all swordsmen.
She'd never forgotten that, but seeing this formidable knight humble himself before her—not even the next Sword Saint—really drove it home.
"Thank you for saying so."
"Nonsense! So, what had you looking so troubled?"
"It's nothing major, Sir Peter—or should I say, Professor? As you know, there are those rumors going around lately."
"Rumors... You mean that brat Ian?"
At Ian's name, Peter scowled unpleasantly.
It was partly his rigid knightly life, but Elaine guessed it was more than that, eyeing the hammer at his waist.
Hammer. Just a hunch, but he must be a knight trained in the von Grind style.
He'd be furious at the academy mockery, but even more so at the rudeness to the von Grind daughter, to whom he owed a debt.
"Do you know him personally?"
"Not directly. But I heard about him from Master Otar."
"Master Otar?"
At the name no warrior in the kingdom could ignore, Peter's eyes widened.
But as she relayed what she'd heard that day, his eyes narrowed, soon curling into a sneer.
"Even he must be getting on in years, like me. That pup as the Sword Saint's equal?"
"You didn't mean it literally, of course. You just wanted to say he seemed that strong."
"Still over the top. So, what's troubling you about it?"
"...Oh, I forgot to mention. Otar suggested it, so I wanted to meet him, but these rumors have me hesitating."
Not the next Sword Saint, but still from that lineage—if she picked a fight and lost or fled in disgrace, what then?
He read her unspoken worry and flashed a refreshing smile.
"I understand perfectly. Leave that issue to me."
"You, Professor?"
"Yes. I was planning to give him a warning anyway. I'll check his character while I'm at it and broach the subject."
"...I see. If he's not the mad dog the rumors say, a talk might be worthwhile. Would you mind?"
"Of course not! Leave it to me and spend some quality time with your fiancé!"
At "fiancé," she stiffened briefly, then nodded.
"...Yes. I'll accept your kindness and do that."
Peter left with a confident smile, leaving her alone on the bench again.
Quality time with her fiancé...
She really needed to try harder—even if he didn't see her as a woman, it was her only path.
Prince Euclid... What about me doesn't please you?
*****
"Why did it turn out like this?!"
"M-Miss!! Calm down!! Getting angry won't solve anything!!"
"Calm down and what?! That guy—really!!!"
Her head was spinning with rage, but she knew the maid was right.
Understanding that didn't make the anger subside, though.
That guy...!!
In the end, rumors that he'd ruined her salon had spread across the entire academy.
She had no intention of backing down, but if not for those rumors, she could have swept it under the rug and ignored him.
If the gossip had spread even a little slower, she might have handled it somehow, but time wasn't on her side.
Her followers were all too scared of him to help; now she had to step up herself.
"But Miss, if you do that and lose...!"
"Sitting still means my reputation gets crushed anyway!"
If she hadn't gotten involved at all, maybe—but now, failing to rein him in would trample the family honor.
With things blown this big, she had no choice but to confront him personally.
Ignoring the maids' pleas, she stepped out, golden hammer in hand.
A gift from her father on her 15th birthday, forged by the famed Master Otar.
With this hammer he'd given her, she felt she wouldn't lose to anyone.
She boarded the carriage she'd prepared in advance and headed to the academy, where her waiting followers approached.
"...Where is he?"
"In the third training ground right now! He's alone, so if you go now..."
"Got it. You all go home!"
As if they'd been waiting for those words, the followers dispersed, and she headed alone to the third training ground where the man waited.
As her followers had said, only he was there.
...He knows when to shut up.
His usual playful air was gone; the intense focus made him seem like a different person.
If he'd shown that attitude just a few days earlier, none of this would have happened.
Resenting that, she deliberately stomped loudly to annoy him as she approached.
Ugh...!
She hadn't taken a few steps before he noticed her, relaxed his stance, and turned.
Angry or something? He said nothing.
He just stared at her with blank eyes devoid of emotion.
Irritated by that, she forgot her prepared words in her impatience and threw the glove she'd readied.
"Pick it up! I challenge you to a duel!!"
"......"
Ian stared blankly at the glove before picking it up—but said nothing more.
Furious at how nonchalantly he took her challenge, she yelled.
"Why aren't you saying anything?! Scared now, after all this?!"
"......It's not been three days yet—can I talk now? As expected of cute Jessica! So magnanimous! But you're really dueling? Can I draw?"
......Shouldn't have said anything.