Chapter 113: Daily Life at Castle Sigurd
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 113: Daily Life at Castle Sigurd
Four days had passed since arriving in Switzerland.
My daily routine at the Nibelung estate went as follows:
Wake up at 5:00 AM.
Before the roosters even clear their throats, I banish sleep with a cold bath. The water is freezing because the outdated plumbing can't produce hot water.
Given how old the building is, I understood.
Breakfast is at 6:00 AM.
Meals consist of simple bites like rye bread or cheese.
It's a humble spread for nobility, but I accept it as it is.
Not all nobles eat extravagantly, and I'm starting to realize the Sword Emperor is a total cheapskate anyway.
7:00 AM, after breakfast.
Chop firewood to use as fuel. Abel and I take turns every other day.
Some might wonder why anyone would need firewood in August, when the summer heat hasn't even faded.
I'd agree—if we were talking exclusively about South Korea.
But here, Castle Sigurd sits directly beneath the Alps.
Even in late summer, perennial snow drapes over the mountain peaks like a white veil. Which means—it's bone-chillingly cold all year round.
So without South Korea's ondol floor heating, we stoke the fireplace hearth with firewood, much like stoking a traditional Korean stove back in the day.
I'm feeling the sheer brilliance of Korea's heating system firsthand, quite literally on my skin.
‘If it’s this cold before autumn even arrives, how do the people here survive winter...?’
Incidentally, there are only two servants in the entire Nibelung estate.
A middle-aged butler and a young female maid.
The butler's name is Karon.
He looks the absolute part. Exactly what you'd imagine when picturing a middle-aged butler. He even has the classic monocle cliché. Absolute perfection.
His role is the overall manager of Castle Sigurd.
Food supplies, cooking, garden upkeep, facility maintenance, hosting guests... he handles almost everything.
An impressively capable butler. My first impression of Karon was like that of an ascetic monk practicing a vow of silence.
Minimum speech. Nodding in response to questions. He's the textbook definition of a taciturn butler.
Next is the maid, Shail. A stunning beauty who rocks a bob cut, she handles everything outside of what Butler Karon takes care of.
Namely: cleaning, laundry, hunting wild beasts, security, and crime prevention.
Her only unusual trait is the thigh holster fitted with steel skewers.
Surprised by her extraordinary nature, I had asked Abel about her on our first day.
“Shail? She’s been the maid taking care of me since I was little, but she’s really young. She’s only four years older than us, so around twenty-one... But why do you ask about Shail...? S-Sword Demon... D-Don't tell me you're interested in Shail too?!”
Abel suddenly snapped. I only asked out of curiosity; her overreaction was baffling.
Though I did hear that asking personal questions can be considered quite rude in Western cultures.
As her employer, it made sense for Abel to take offense.
Anyhow.
Shail’s demeanor was chic, but she was secretly kind. She was the type to quietly take care of things without making a scene.
If I needed something, she would place it right outside my door before I even asked, then—
Knock, knock, knock. She’d let me know with three taps and vanish. Even if I opened the door immediately, she was already gone.
Leaving behind only the lingering trace of her presence, as if denying any chance to give thanks—just like a ghost.
While not quite on the level of the Auditore, Shail's presence suppression and footwork were far from ordinary.
‘Not to mention the aura she exudes isn't normal. And do ordinary maids usually handle hunting beasts and estate defense...?’
Then again, as part of the Nibelung household, she must possess basic combat capabilities. Though I have no idea how strong she actually is.
Butler Karon and maid Shail.
Over the past four days, watching them work revealed their efficiency to be swift and flawless.
Despite being just two people, the castle remains pristine.
But no matter how near-superhumanly good they are at their jobs, they still only have one pair of hands each.
With just two servants, there's a limit to how much ground they can cover.
‘To think the mansion of the undisputed top nobleman has so few employees.’
If I had to guess, it's probably due to Sword Emperor Siegfried’s signature shut-in, my-way temperament. He obsessively hates crowded places.
Consequently, any tasks outside Karon and Shail’s domain are pitched in by both Abel and me.
Chopping firewood or going grocery shopping every now and then, for instance.
All of this is fine. I intended to earn my keep anyway, so I was prepared to do some servant work.
Nobody likes a freeloading guest; sitting around doing nothing while leeching off them would be far more uncomfortable.
‘A person has to have some shame.’
Besides, since Abel and the Sword Emperor do their share as well, I have no grievances or complaints.
Having been roughed up by society since I was seventeen, chores like these don't even qualify as hard labor to me.
Up until now, these days have been quite satisfying.
Breathing in crystal-clear air away from thick micro-dust feels like my lungs are being cleansed.
Above all, it's a treat for the eyes. Everywhere I look offers a magnificent view. I can easily see why Switzerland is considered such a great place to live.
Except for just one thing.
There is one daily routine I absolutely cannot stand—
* * *
Castle basement, the Sword Emperor’s private training room.
A gloomy atmosphere intertwined with a suffocating silence weighed heavily upon the space.
“…….”
It was so silent that ringing hummed in my ears.
What am I doing here? Sitting cross-legged alongside the Sword Emperor, quietly meditating.
And—I’ve been doing this damn thing for four hours straight after breakfast.
My knees are beyond numb to the point of losing sensation, and my lower back is twitching with tiny spasms.
I narrowed my right eye and glanced sideways.
The Sword Emperor was meditating solemnly. His posture remained perfectly immaculate, unchanged from four hours ago.
I stared quietly at him before letting out a soft sigh.
In the suffocating stillness, the sound of my breath echoed.
‘To think that after coming all the way to Switzerland, all I’m doing is meditating.’
Tracing back the origin of why I’m stuck like this leads back to the main reason the Sword Emperor brought me to Switzerland.
‘He said he would guide my training and mental discipline for the Seven Stars succession.’
Personal instruction from the Sword Emperor, who has reigned for decades under the title of humanity’s strongest.
To anyone else, it would sound like an astounding, unbelievable privilege.
And as a fellow swordsman, a senior who has wielded a blade far longer than I have...
...I secretly anticipated learning and realizing so many things from him.
Because I knew the value of a great master's teachings from my first Master.
So I had high expectations inside, but...
The reality is sitting upright opposite the Sword Emperor every single day, meditating.
For a whopping four hours until lunchtime.
The Sword Emperor’s explanation regarding this was as follows:
“The foundation of your blessing itself is likely complete. However, because that power is too vast and primordial, it cannot be easily controlled. Increasing your martial power is useless in this state. Communicating with yourself to adapt the blessing to fit you must come first. Your first week here will be spent on that.”
To summarize his explanation: carving and polishing the unrefined 'Blessing of the Sword God' through 'meditation.'
The intent itself is good. No, one could even say it’s correct.
Since the innate potential is sufficient, regulating it through meditation makes sense. Except...
“Ugh...”
A groan escaped through my teeth. The Sword Emperor dismissed it without opening his eyes.
“Don't exaggerate. If an old man with one foot in the grave can manage, a young man like you shouldn't be complaining.”
“...Yes, sir.”
“Be patient a little longer. Just thirty more minutes.”
“…….”
‘Thirty more minutes?!’
I lamented internally. It was sheer agony.
Sitting cross-legged for hours makes me feel like my kneecaps are grinding away.
My whole body aches, and my hips tremble so hard that my rear fidgets against the cold stone floor.
‘Ah, damn it. Cramp!’
Far from communicating with myself, I just wanted to escape this situation as fast as possible.
But the Sword Emperor was enduring it so firmly beside me.
How could a young guy like me complain when a seventy-year-old elder didn't budge an inch?
Knock—knock—
Two knocks shattered the silence of the training room.
The Sword Emperor slowly opened his eyes. He rose quietly and headed toward the door.
I tried to stand up as well, but under the Sword Emperor's chilly glare, I remained glued in my cross-legged position.
Exaggerating just a bit, this was as painful as when the Blessing of the Sword God first manifested.
The Sword Emperor opened the door.
Screeech—
Through the squeak of rusty hinges stood Butler Karon. Quite a bit of fluster was etched across his face—distinctly different from his usual expressionless countenance.
“Um, Sword Emperor. May I have a quick word in private?”
Karon whispered softly to the Sword Emperor. Wondering what was going on, I averted my gaze.
He was whispering, so it was bound to be a private matter. As an outsider, there was no need for me to pry.
Besides, that wasn't my most pressing problem right now.
‘I can’t feel my lower body at all.’
Everything below my lower dantian feels hollow. Numbness has completely taken over my lower half. How am I supposed to stand up...? I can't put any power into my legs!
At that moment—
“What?! Richard, that crazy bastard!?”
The Sword Emperor shouted furiously, his brow deeply furrowed. Having only ever seen his dignified side, this expression was a first for me.
“U-Um, Lord Siegfried. Young Master Kang Geomma is right behind you.”
“Ah, ahem. I lost my composure for a moment.”
The Sword Emperor cleared his throat and softened his tone. However, his face remained stiff.
I blankly stared at the two before mulling over the name the Sword Emperor had uttered.
‘...Richard.’
Though he left out the surname, I easily guessed who it was.
In this world, only one person bearing that name could make the Sword Emperor that angry.
Rachel's uncle, and the giant who holds a seat among the Seven Stars.
The Spear Saint, Richard de Myura.
Though his reputation lagged somewhat behind the Sword Emperor, rumor had it that no one could match him in pure brute strength. The logic was that he made up for lacking technical skill with overwhelming force.
Supposedly, a single punch from him could pop a B-rank Magical Beast’s head like a watermelon.
From the rumors alone, he sounded like a lion in human skin. Since I’d never seen him in the game either, I couldn't tell how true it was.
Still, for such rumors to circulate, his physical perfection must be top-tier even among the Seven Stars Heroes.
‘So why is the Spear Saint’s name coming up?’
The Sword Emperor spoke to Karon.
“I have an urgent matter to attend to. I might return by dinner, or perhaps later. So go ahead and let the kids eat first.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Saying that, the Sword Emperor hurriedly left the training room.
The sound of footsteps echoing up the basement stairs faded. Once I could no longer hear them, I pushed off the floor to stand up.
...Or at least, I tried to.
“…….”
My eyes met Karon’s, who was standing with his hands behind his back.
His half-lidded eyes narrowed even further.
“There are still fifteen minutes remaining.”
“…….”
“Master Geomma.”
Pfft. I gave a composure-filled smirk.
Then immediately straightened my back. A perfect, formal posture.
Only then did Karon nod.
Inflexibility truly runs identical between servant and butler alike.
...Damn it.
* * *
“Urrgh...”
A groan slipped through my teeth involuntarily. Crossing my legs for four days straight made me feel like even my internal organs were twisted.
I even skipped lunch. I was hungry, but more than the emptiness in my stomach, my legs were numb and throbbing.
I collapsed onto the bedsheet. Facing a foreign ceiling, I stared blankly into the air when suddenly an idea flashed through my mind.
“Wait, come to think of it, being in Switzerland means it’s close to that dungeon.”
My upper body shot up. Right away, I flipped open my suitcase and pulled out Murasame.
Looking down at the partially unsheathed blade, a smirk spread across my face.
“Lucky coincidence.”
A clear objective was now injected into a vacation that would have otherwise been spent aimlessly training.
However, entering that dungeon strictly required advance preparation and party members.
“The entry requirement was a minimum of three people...”
Aside from entry requirements, defenses had to be solid as well.
The path leading there was rugged, and above all, that magical beast waiting in the hidden area...
Truthfully, I didn't even want to step foot near it, but what choice did I have?
Upgrading my armament was my top priority, so I had to swallow the bitter pill.
‘It’s where one of the few magic stones in this world is located...’
As I let out a worried sigh—
Knock—knock—knock—
As usual, three taps came at the door.
“Guess it’s already time for dinner.”
Thinking it was the maid Shail, I didn't reply. Even if I spoke to her, there would be no answer anyway.
Knock—knock—knock—
However, another knock sounded.
Tilted my head in confusion, I opened the door.
Standing hesitantly outside was an unexpected person.
“...What? Why are you here?”
It was Abel. She was holding a glossy blanket in her arms.
“I-I have something to return...”
“...?”
Abel tilted her eyes up slightly. Beneath her brows, her golden eyes glittered brilliantly.
“And I have something to talk about...”
Abel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke.