The Road to the Academy (1)
Pinned against the vast blue sky, a single feather drifted lazily downward, swaying gently in the breeze. I simply gazed at it endlessly.
For about fifteen years of relentless Battōjutsu training, the moment I spotted that falling feather, my first thought wasn't what bird it came from—but whether I could slice it clean.
Could I cut it?
I'd know the answer soon enough.
One hand on the scabbard, the other gripping the hilt, I took a deep breath and assumed my stance.
Caught in a fierce gust, the feather tumbled toward the ground, swaying tantalizingly before my eyes without drifting off to some distant place.
The instant it entered my striking range, I drew my sword without hesitation.
My blade flashed out like lightning, hurtling straight toward the feather without the slightest deviation.
"Hoo…."
A moment later, I glanced at the ground and grinned in satisfaction at the feather, now neatly bisected as if it had always been that way.
"Heh heh heh!!"
After several attempts, I'd finally succeeded!!
They say nothing's harder to cut than steel—but a tiny feather that flutters away at the slightest breeze is even tougher.
The mere wind from swinging the sword before it even touches sends it flying.
After endless tries just to cleave this feather, I'd finally nailed it today.
As if blessing my triumph, a message announced the birth of a new trait.
Sword Master has been added.
Rank: A+
This trait is granted only to those who have ascended to a realm beyond ordinary warriors. If you hadn't wasted time on idiotic nonsense like Battōjutsu, you could've snagged it sooner.
I ignored the snide remark in the second line. Though I hadn't aimed for it specifically, my Battōjutsu training had netted me a damn fine trait anyway.
Sword Master—a trait not just for the original novel's protagonist, but for every named swordsman of note in the story. Incredibly useful.
The moment you acquire it, proficiency in all sword-related skills skyrockets beyond compare.
And against any swordsman below Sword Master level, you can read their moves like you're peering into the future, just as the novel describes.
The gap between a regular swordsman and a Sword Master is as vast as the chasm between Battōjutsu and other sword arts. No exaggeration.
'And I wasn't even expecting it, but I got Sword Master this early….'
Battōjutsu delivers again.
With any other sword style, I'd have barely scraped this level around thirty. But here I was, ahead of schedule.
As I sheathed my sword and admired my new Sword Master trait with satisfaction, I sensed someone approaching from afar.
"Haa…! Y-Young Master!!"
I turned at the familiar voice. There stood old Paul, our butler.
"What's up? Your knees are bad—why run like that?"
"W-Well… Madam is urgently looking for you…."
"Mother? Got it, I'll head back right away."
Wondering what it was about, I hurried to the mansion. Mother must've been too impatient to wait inside—she stood right at the entrance.
"Mother, Paul said you were looking for me urgently. What's going on?"
"What's going on?! Ian!! Is it true you submitted an application to the Royal Academy?!"
She waved a letter in front of my face—presumably from the academy.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I did. Why?"
Come to think of it, I hadn't told Mother about applying yet.
It hadn't been long since I sent it off, but they'd already replied, apparently.
"You should've told your mother first! The count's daughter is enrolling this year too—do you have any idea how much we need to do, like paying respects to the count?!"
"Ah… politics stuff. I don't care much about that, so I wasn't paying attention."
The novel had political bits, but they were boring, so I'd skimmed them.
We're not even barons—what's a rural backwater lord like us doing playing politics? This "estate" is just two or three villages in the sticks.
"Those greetings sound like a hassle. Can I just skip 'em? They probably won't even remember a pseudo-baron like us anyway."
"Absolutely not! What if you get on their bad side?!"
"Fine, I'll send a letter or something. They won't wanna waste time on a nobody like me either."
Mother fretted about offending the count's family, but honestly, they wouldn't give us the time of day from the start.
And if they pulled some petty nonsense? I'd handle it with Battōjutsu diplomacy.
"The academy isn't just for learning—it's a social field! Building connections there that help you later is key! Do you understand?!"
"Yes…."
I couldn't fathom why I'd grovel to some girl who couldn't even wield Battōjutsu, but arguing would drag this out, so I nodded.
Which count's family was it again?
I'd heard the name from Mother, but it wasn't prominent in the novel, so I'd forgotten.
"Mother, what was that count's family name again?"
"Ian, honestly…. It's the von Grind family. The lady's name is Jessica—don't be rude; memorize it!"
Jessica von Grind. Never heard that name in the original story either.
Still didn't ring a bell.
She wasn't deeply tied to the plot, so a quick hello and done.
"But Ian…."
"What is it, Mother?"
"Why do you want to enter the academy? Honestly, I never thought you cared much for academics."
"Oh, that. It's because I have a mission that can only be fulfilled at the academy."
"A mission?"
Mother looked startled at the grandiose word from my mouth.
"Yes. To showcase Battōjutsu at the academy and proclaim it the supreme sword art to the world."
For fifteen years without fail, honing Battōjutsu daily, I'd realized something.
Was it right to hoard such a powerful, beautiful art for myself?
No way that selfish crime could be forgiven.
The good stuff belongs to everyone.
'…To spread Battōjutsu far and wide, I'll take down the protagonist—the future Sword Saint!!'
Born to the Sword Saint's lineage, the guy who becomes the world's strongest swordsman by the end. I'll flatten him and prove Battōjutsu's supremacy.
If needed, his sister, the prince, and the prince's future knight captain guard too.
By any means, spread Battōjutsu's glory—that's why I believe I was born into this world.
"For that, I must go to the academy!!"
"……Huh."
A few days later, the day arrived when Ian—whom I'd secretly hoped would never go—headed to the academy.
I left my room to see him off at the entrance.
But what was this? Every step toward the entrance stirred an ominous unease in my chest.
Was it the sorrow and loneliness of parting from the son I'd birthed and raised, for the first time?
No, not quite. If I had to name it, it was anxiety.
Like a child who'd accidentally broken Father's prized artifact, fretting over the inevitable scolding.
If asked why I felt such dread about my son entering the academy, well, there was a reason.
'He's not a bad kid, but… no, he's downright peculiar.'
I'm no expert on swords—magic's my field—so I couldn't gauge Ian's skill precisely.
All I knew was Father once drunkenly beaming that Ian might become a Sword Saint someday.
But Father wasn't among the true powerhouses, so who knows how credible that was.
'What if….'
What if Ian's skills weren't up to par and he crumbled in despair?
Or worse—if they were too exceptional, drawing the ire of high nobles and crushing our house….
Ian was hopeless at politics or socializing, even as a compliment.
Plus his weird Battōjutsu obsession could spark fights with knightly honor-types.
'Spouting nonsense about his "mission" to spread Battōjutsu….'
With any other child, I'd dismiss it—but Ian? Ominous what-ifs kept flooding my mind.
Was there any way to stop him even now…?
"Mother?"
"Y-Yes?"
I snapped to—somehow, I'd reached the entrance where Ian waited, not the stairs.
How deep in thought was I? Shaking it off, I looked at my waiting son.
"What were you thinking about so hard?"
"Ian…."
Ah…! What should I say?
Cling to his pants and beg him tearfully not to go?
No—his stubbornness on Battōjutsu matters made that pointless.
"Haa… Ian."
"Yes, Mother."
"Once you're enrolled, buy a gift first and go greet Lady Jessica. Something small like a slice cake works."
"Isn't a letter enough?"
"No! I wrote to the neighboring Victor young master too, asking him to go with you. You'll go together! Understood?!"
"Got it…."
Seeing him nod reluctantly, I barely suppressed a sigh.
All that's left is prayer.
At least, pray he doesn't do anything too insane by my standards.
Starting tomorrow… no, today—like Ian with his Battōjutsu, I'll pray desperately.
If the gods exist, surely they'll pity me and keep Ian from folly.
'Pray, just pray….'