The Maid Recruitment Test (4)
I won’t let my guard down this time. No matter what, I’ll find a way to get rid of the other Calamities too.
I burned with renewed determination as I called Seres into the study.
She had been waiting to assist with the afternoon schedule.
Five minutes later, she slipped into the room without a sound and took her usual place against the wall, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The plan was simple.
I would give her absolutely nothing to do and ignore her completely.
If a maid stood around doing nothing because she couldn’t find work on her own, that would be grounds for dismissal.
I intended to use that excuse to fire her without hesitation.
To make it work, I resolved not to do anything except focus on my own tasks.
I stretched lightly and spread the continental map and reports across the desk.
This was the final subjugation plan I had been meticulously preparing for months.
It targeted the Edela branch of the Revolutionary Army, secretly supported by Baron Edela in the southern Rosvent Empire.
Even after all this time, the sight of it still sent a thrill through me.
I scanned the unit roster listed in the report.
The 3rd Cavalry Regiment would lead, supported by the 5th Infantry Company and the 12th Battalion.
The 8th Magic Support Company and 4th Assault Battalion would cover the flanks, while the 7th Company handled rear supply and reserves.
Six units in total.
Roughly three thousand troops.
A sizable force for striking a single barony.
Of course, when you considered the Revolutionary Army’s numbers, it was actually on the lean side.
Even the smallest branch fielded at least three hundred fighters.
I checked the march route the staff officers had spent all night perfecting.
It was a cautious path that used detours to minimize casualties.
Nothing more to review there.
Satisfied, I nodded and glanced sideways at Seres.
She stood with her hands neatly folded in front of her, doing nothing but breathe.
Perfect. She could definitely be fired for this.
I fought back a smile and leaned forward to draft additional orders.
The moment I pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer and straightened up, I froze.
“…Huh?”
I nearly dropped the paper.
After rubbing my eyes, I looked down again.
The operation plan had been completely rewritten.
Fresh black ink covered the page.
Red lines crossed out the original unit composition, and a new march route had been drawn in its place.
The 3rd Cavalry Regiment and 12th Battalion had swapped positions.
Instead of the staff’s detour, a daring direct route now cut through a narrow mountain pass.
Only one person could have done this.
Seres and I were the only ones in the study.
I looked up, ready to demand an explanation.
She remained exactly as before, back lightly touching the wall, hands folded, expression unchanged.
No sign of movement. No wrinkled clothes. Not even a trace of ink on her fingers.
In the single second it had taken me to reach into the drawer, she had used her godlike speed to cross the room, rewrite the entire plan, and return to her spot without a sound.
And of course, there was no evidence left behind.
Only the still-wet ink betrayed the truth.
So that’s how you want to play it?
I had already planned to fire her anyway, but now I was even more determined.
I glared at the revised plan, intending to fix it.
Ten seconds later, I had to admit defeat.
The new formation and route were vastly superior to the staff’s version.
At least dozens of times better.
It struck at the barony’s weakest point while maximizing mobility, allowing us to crush the Revolutionary Army before reinforcements could arrive.
Even though she no longer had any reason to possess this knowledge, she had created a perfect strategy in a single instant through sheer talent alone.
Damn it. The result was good, so I’d let it slide this time.
I shot her a resentful sideways glance.
Still, if she was going to be a maid, couldn’t she at least act like one?
This was ridiculous.
After finishing the morning schedule and eating a quick lunch with my family, I headed to the private training ground for afternoon sword practice.
The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky, hot enough to scorch skin.
Under that merciless light, Seres followed in her thick, layered maid uniform.
She stood motionless in the middle of the yard, looking ready to remain there for the entire five-hour session.
I knew she was the Calamity of Genesis, a monster who had cut down countless Sword Masters.
I also knew a little sunlight wouldn’t make her break a sweat.
Even so, leaving someone standing in direct sunlight for hours felt deeply uncomfortable every time I glanced her way.
Haah… whatever.
I rolled up my sleeves and called out awkwardly.
“Don’t just stand there. Go sit in the shade and wait.”
……
It was a simple order, yet Seres’s usually expressionless face showed the faintest flicker of change.
It lasted only a moment, and I might have imagined it.
Still, something about the situation felt strangely significant.
She gave a short bow and walked without complaint to the large tree casting shade at the edge of the yard.
Once she was settled, I finally felt free of that nagging discomfort.
Maybe giving stronger orders wasn’t so bad after all.
I rolled my shoulders, grabbed a wooden practice sword from the rack, and closed my eyes to steady my breathing.
Then I swung.
The blade traced a downward arc.
Just as my arm was about to stop at the intended point, something invisible nudged my wrist upward.
At the same time, an unseen force tapped my front heel inward, adjusting my stance.
Startled, I opened my eyes and looked around.
……Was that my imagination?
Only Seres stood there, hair fluttering gently in the breeze like a painting.
I decided it must have been stress and focused on training again.
This time I attempted a diagonal slash.
The moment I raised the sword and shifted my foot, the strange sensation returned.
Something pushed my elbow up and rotated my hips inward.
From then on, I was certain it wasn’t my imagination.
When I deliberately tried a sloppy thrust to test it, I clearly felt something tug my chin and lower both arms by about three degrees.
On the fourth step, pressure on the top of my foot widened my stride by half a foot beyond my intention.
I finally understood what was happening.
This was exactly like what Erinea had done that morning—erasing her presence while serving me.
The Fallen Sword Saint was moving between the shade and my side at speeds even I couldn’t follow, correcting my swordsmanship in real time.
No wonder the hem of her maid uniform had been fluttering slightly.
I had thought it was the wind, but the breeze wasn’t that strong.
Unlike Erinea, this was actively interfering with my training.
I finished my final horizontal slash and turned to confront her.
At that exact moment—
Shwaaaak—!
Rotational force surged from my ankle through my knee and waist, traveling perfectly through my shoulder and wrist into the tip of the wooden sword.
It was the same horizontal slash I had practiced tens of thousands of times over more than ten years.
Yet the single swing I had just unconsciously performed reached a level of perfection I had never achieved before.
Muscle contraction and relaxation, skeletal alignment, breathing timing—everything aligned flawlessly.
It was a strike that hinted at the path of a Sword Master, something I had never even dared to imagine reaching.
……
I stared at the sword in stunned silence.
The lingering tingle in my palm proved it hadn’t been an illusion.
Seres remained beneath the tree, hands folded, posture impeccable.
Her lips, however, seemed to curve upward ever so slightly more than before.
Damn it.
This really is insane. Is she a maid, or my personal bodyguard, strategist, and sword instructor all rolled into one…?