Love in the Academy - 3
I quickly drove off the wicked veterans who had been targeting the newbie. If those veterans made Ainter break his sword, I would be in trouble too. The Emperor himself had asked me to look after him a bit; failing to carry out that order properly would look bad.
And then reporting the reason as, "He says he can't take it anymore because my little brother and a foreign prince are bullying him"? Just imagining it was enough to make my blood run cold.
Still, that won't happen.
After Erich and Ryutis withdrew, I stroked my chin while watching Ainter, who was still holding a perfect stance.
As long as I kept blocking raids from veterans like those two, Ainter would never break his sword. From everything I had seen of him so far, he was not the type to quit simply because something was hard or tedious. If he had been impulsive and lacking in persistence, he would have been dragged down with the Second Prince when the man died.
"Another week or two of refining your stance should be enough. After that we move on to actual swordsmanship."
I spoke casually while watching Ainter, who had not so much as twitched.
As Erich had said, Ainter was already decent among his peers. Looking at it generously, maybe upper-middle ranks? That was why I wanted to polish the stance just a little more and then shift into techniques. Building a solid foundation was good, of course, but endlessly grinding basics without ever stacking anything on top of them was simply boring.
Naturally that plan stayed secret from the veteran duo. The moment those bastards saw Ainter swinging a sword they would roll their eyes back and charge.
"You'll teach me swordsmanship yourself as well?"
"Yes. Would you prefer someone else?"
"Of course not. It's an honor, rather."
Ainter smiled faintly and sank once more into his silent, perfect stance.
Truly satisfying. The more earnest a student looked, the better a teacher felt.
Shall I work him properly for a full year?
The thought soon became serious. If I trained him thoroughly until the Academy graduation ceremony, he could reach the level of an ordinary knight. If Ainter's talent held up, we could even aim higher.
At first I had hesitated to thrash a prince and marquis like Ainter so mercilessly, but when the student's attitude was this clear, how could a teacher take it lightly? Working him hard was the respectful thing to do for Ainter.
Before that, however, there was something I needed to confirm.
"Ainter."
"Yes, please speak."
"Is there a particular reason you suddenly took up the sword?"
I first needed to know Ainter's exact goal.
If he had picked up a blade simply for royal dignity or for health, then harsh training was something to avoid. When the finish line was only a kilometer away, making someone practice as though they were running a full marathon was simply excessive. Overtraining could kill a student's motivation and diligence.
"The reason..."
At my question Ainter trailed off as though the answer were awkward.
"It isn't anything particularly grand."
"I was the same. Most people take up the sword because their family orders it. Very few do so for some lofty reason."
"Haha. I suppose that's true."
After blinking a few times as if weighing his words, Ainter answered with a light laugh.
"I want to become a warrior worthy of my wife. Wouldn't it be troublesome if the sole son-in-law of a northern marquisate were weak?"
For a moment my mind went blank. A warrior worthy of his wife? Troublesome if the son-in-law were weak?
What is this.
What on earth.
A reason I had never even considered had just come flying out. The chance that Ainter had suddenly thought of this on his own was low; had Shati said something to him?
Come to think of it, I had heard that the two of them had been in contact fairly often since the New Year's Audience. Marquis Barandiga had told me so with a bright face.
Did they exchange ideal types or something?
A plausible guess. Because the chieftain of the Barandiga tribe had traditionally served as high priest, they possessed a relatively mild disposition, yet nomads were still nomads. Compared with settled peoples they could not help but be fiery and aggressive.
If, under that influence, Shati's ideal type was a "strong and valiant warrior," it was hardly incomprehensible. On the contrary, it would have been stranger if Shati, who had lived as a nomad, preferred a slender, delicate man.
Nice.
Before I knew it the bewilderment had vanished and pride was rising in its place. The fact that Ainter, who had walked the path of scholarship, was reshaping himself to match Shati's ideal type meant he was sincere about her, did it not? From the standpoint of the man who had arranged the match, it was a deeply satisfying development.
Moreover, the political marriage between Ainter and Shati was also a marriage for the imperial family and the Empire. It meant Ainter intended to fulfill his duties as a member of the imperial bloodline with sincerity, so as a noble of the Empire it was welcome news worth applauding.
I felt almost moved to tears. After watching foreign royals force their way into the Empire even though their own countries had perfectly good educational institutions, seeing a normal member of the imperial family like this was genuinely touching.
As expected, domestic products beat imports every time.
Those foreign royals were beneath our imperial family.
"A splendid reason. Yes—if you're going to be joined to the foremost house of the north, you should at least become the foremost sword of the north."
"Pardon?"
And so I made my resolution. Since Ainter had taken up the sword for a wholesome and beautiful reason, I would answer him with everything I had.
"For this one year—and if necessary even after graduation—I'll teach you. Let's aim for the top of the north and work hard."
"No, I... I didn't want a goal that grand..."
"Don't worry too much. Every warrior who boasted any real strength in the north died in the last war. If you put in the effort, you can become the foremost sword without much trouble."
At my confident declaration Ainter opened and closed his mouth several times, then nodded with a look of deep resignation.
Right now my words probably sounded like pure nonsense. Even if he had learned the sword a little as a child, he was essentially a beginner; talk of "foremost sword" or anything of the sort could hardly sink in.
But effort—eeeeeeffort—was enough. The monsters of the north had been wiped out completely in the war six years ago, and even the remaining dangerous specimens had been cleaned up last year. Anyone in the north who could swing a sword with any skill at all had gone extinct.
It's possible.
As a northern specialist I was certain. This was a perfectly feasible empty-house burglary.
Through my teaching Ainter would become the foremost sword of the north as Marquis of Idrafen, and thus become the son-in-law of the foremost house of the north, the Marquis Gurt household.
The perfect plan. Even the Emperor might be moved.
The contacts from Marquis Idrafen, who used to light up the communication sphere at the drop of a hat, had grown sparse.
Thanks to that, my mind had been at ease lately. Watching that irritating man smirk had been pure torture; not having to see him for several weeks already felt wonderfully refreshing.
Finally the effect is showing.
I hummed under my breath as I wiped the blade clean. The wall I had steadily built since the New Year's Audience was at last bearing fruit.
Yes—a flower that had grown peacefully inside a garden could never match a wildflower that had grown while facing the northern cold. He had proudly announced he was training, yet it seemed he had given up in the end. That was why he could not even contact me and was keeping his mouth shut.
Still, the fact that he had cut off contact suggested he possessed at least a minimal sense of shame. That was fortunate, at least. Yes.
...Or not.
No sooner had the thought formed than the communication sphere began to glow.
I bit my lip hard without meaning to. The people of the tribe—no, of the territory—who were still unused to communication spheres simply came in person when they had something to say. There was only one person who would ever contact me through the sphere.
"This is Shati Gurt."
After several heavy sighs I finally gripped the communication sphere. I wanted to ignore it, but pushing someone away and outright ignoring them were different matters.
"It's been a while, Lady Shati. This is Marquis Idrafen."
The moment I took hold of the sphere, the face I had not wanted to see appeared.
As expected, that same annoyingly smirking expression as before. I really wanted to hit him just once.
"Yes, it has been a while. I don't even know how many weeks it's been."
Since he had already been quiet for several weeks, it would have been nice if the silence had stretched to several months—
"Oh my. So you were disappointed that I couldn't contact you. I apologize."
"Disappointed? Of course not."
At Marquis Idrafen's words I clenched an invisible fist and forced my insides to settle.
Disappointed? Me? Just because I hadn't received his calls? Ridiculous.
"I also wanted to converse with Lady Shati often, but I met a rather strict teacher. Even today I am only contacting you by barely carving out the time."
Yet Marquis Idrafen, oblivious to my true feelings, continued speaking with that same smiling face.
Ordinarily I would have ground my teeth at that expression and ended the conversation, but fortunately today I had a topic ready for counterattack.
"If the teacher is strict, it means he is teaching with all his heart. He must be doing it entirely for Your Lordship's sake."
I could stick a barb into the marquis who was complaining that his teacher was too harsh.
I had no idea who that teacher was, but gratitude was already sprouting vigorously. Thanks to him I had been able to avoid the marquis's face for several weeks, and he would no doubt continue training the man diligently from now on.
"Haha. The teaching is so excessive that my body can hardly keep up. Who would have imagined I would receive instruction from the torture—no, the Minister of the Inspectorate."
"Pardon?"
I let out a dazed sound at those words.
Right now... who did he say?
"Ah. The name Count of Wiridia would be more familiar to Lady Shati."
It was a careful correction, yet the shock did not fade. I already knew that the Minister of the Inspectorate referred to the Count of Wiridia, the Count of Tailglehen. Of course I would know the titles of the man who led the northern nobles.
The problem was that that very leader was personally teaching Marquis Idrafen.
The warrior who had split the sky with a sword, who had slain the one who defied the heavens and the false Khan. The man called the continent's foremost swordsman was instructing him in person.
Uh...?
My mind gradually went white. There was no law that a strong warrior automatically made an excellent teacher, yet a strong warrior was himself an existence that granted enlightenment to other warriors. A single casual step, one short sword stroke, could stimulate every other martial artist who witnessed it.
If—if Marquis Idrafen possessed even a sliver of talent for the martial path...
He'll really get strong.
Cold sweat slid down my spine.
"By the way, following Lady's advice I have been putting effort into training recently. Someday I will have occasion to stay in the north, and if my body cannot endure it, that would be troublesome."
And the words Marquis Idrafen had spoken before came flooding back.
The shield I had thought of as a last resort was in danger of being pierced.
Watching Ainter improve by leaps and bounds with every passing day, I reached a conclusion.
Being of the imperial bloodline really is different.
Perhaps because he belonged to the lineage that reigned above the nobility, he was showing growth far beyond my expectations.
One year of proper training for the level of an ordinary knight? That estimate had been far too low. Knight-commander level might even be within reach.
"I've swung all five hundred times."
"You need to fill a thousand. Five hundred more."
"Yes."
Even so, his passion never cooled; he obeyed my instructions without complaint.
Occasionally a student who realized he was improving and that he possessed talent would let his head swell and start talking back. Moderately thrashing such a person was also a form of education, but fortunately I would never need to hit Ainter.
Hmm.
I raised the water flask to my lips while watching Ainter swing the sword with perfect form.
Thanks to Shati mentioning her ideal type, a pillar that would support the Empire was about to be born.
What a patriot.
A new noble who had only become an imperial citizen last year was already rendering service. As expected of the prospective wife of a member of the imperial family.