Yua, My Silent Sword Instructor

The sun beat down mercilessly on the dusty training yard behind the Heavenfield ducal mansion. Sweat poured from me in heavy streams. Sword training was one of the hours I dreaded most. It was as if I had been born without a single shred of athletic talent. My left hand flailed about with a mind of its own, while my right hand trembled violently as it gripped the blade. To me, the sword was nothing more than a heavy lump of iron. Every swing sent a painful jolt through my wrists, and every muscle in my body screamed in protest.

“Master Leonardo! Again! What in the world is that? You swing a sword like that and you couldn’t even split firewood!”

The instructor’s voice thundered across the grounds. He didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow at the sight of me collapsed in exhaustion. I lay there gasping for breath, staring blankly at the wooden sword I had dropped. It was a disgraceful sight, utterly devoid of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dignity expected from the young master of a noble ducal house. Among all the failing grades I had received in my previous life, this one took the crown. It had always been that way in the realm of “exercise.”

Sigh. I would rather have written ten more territory reports. This was nothing but mindless, songless drudgery.

In one shaded corner of the training ground, Yua sat watching. She observed my clumsy struggles in silence, notebook and pen in hand. Rather than laughing at my miserable display, she scribbled away with a serious expression on her face.

There’s no need to record even this flailing mess, is there, Yua? Don’t document my shame so calmly. Are you creating teaching materials about me?

“Yua. If you’re bored, go read another book. Don’t sit here watching someone suffer.”

When I grumbled, she shook her head. She approached quietly across the training ground, careful to stay out of the instructor’s direct line of sight, and held her notebook out to me.

I let out a small chuckle at her words. “What’s the point of resting? Does resting improve skill? Because mine isn’t improving.”

Even at my complaint, Yua looked up at me with clear eyes and smiled softly. In one corner of the notebook, she had drawn a crooked but surprisingly precise diagram of the sword swing I had attempted. Next to it, a small arrow pointed with the words This direction is wrong! Below that, in large, bold letters: Do it properly!

I barely managed to hold back a burst of laughter. This girl really had a talent for lifting people up and knocking them down in the same breath. Well, if my pathetic flailing brought her even a little joy, I would gladly keep dancing like a fool.

The instructor approached and ordered me into a new stance. “All right, Master Leonardo! Let’s try that last posture again! One!”

I moved stiffly, lifting the sword. My body was already rebelling. Creaking joints, protesting muscles. One, two… by the time I reached ten, my form had completely fallen apart. The instructor let out a deep sigh. Even that sound seemed to mock my incompetence.

“Is this really going to work? Haah…”

He rubbed his face wearily and shook his head. Then his gaze suddenly shifted toward Yua.

“Hey, Miss Yua! Why don’t you show the young master a quick demonstration? Just do whatever feels natural! Do you have any interest in swordsmanship?”

I was stunned. Yua? With a sword? Was the instructor joking?

Yua looked slightly flustered, but she soon nodded. She accepted the wooden sword the instructor offered. In her small hands, the blade looked far too long.

Me? In front of Leo… in front of Leo…

My heart pounded violently. His eyes were on me. If I made a mistake, it might burden him. But… my body was already reacting. The moment the cold wooden hilt touched my palm, something like a long-forgotten instinct awakened. The movements I had learned in the darkness to survive. Movements I had never shown anyone.

I don’t want to disappoint Lord Leo. If I can ease his burden even a little… if I can do something for him…

The instructor gave Yua a simple explanation of the stance. “All right, relax your strength. Imagine cutting that target over there…”

Before he could even finish speaking, Yua turned her body lightly. The motion was as natural as flowing water. The power that erupted from her small frame was beyond imagination.

With a sharp whoosh, the wooden sword sliced the target with perfect precision. A clean mark was carved into the wooden post. Her posture was flawless—so flawless that even I, who had been tense with nerves, could only admire it. The tip of her blade moved with a living intelligence, striking exactly where it needed to, and her final stance was perfectly stable. For a moment, it felt as if even the air itself had stopped.

The instructor stood speechless, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Miss Yua! This… this can only be called genius!”

Despite the instructor’s praise, Yua simply lowered her sword with an indifferent expression, as if she had done nothing special. Then she pulled out her notebook again and held it out to me.

I took her notebook. A bitter smile rose to my lips. It’s easy? Who would have thought such simple words could cut me so deeply. Nothing in my life had ever been easy. Yet Yua’s eyes were pure. She seemed unaware of my despair; her only desire was to share what she had learned with me. This child… she made it impossible to hate her. Sometimes she dragged me down to the bottom, yet at the same time she was the one who embraced me most warmly.

I took Yua’s hand and gently lowered her notebook. My sweat-stained hand overlapped with her small, clean one.

“Yua. You really are incredible. Yes… I suppose I should learn from you.”

I let out a hollow laugh. I had thought I was her teacher, but perhaps she was meant to be mine. Well, even if it was because of my own incompetence, I had to cling to whatever hope I could find. It was a little ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠funny that the source of that hope was this small girl.

The moment his hand wrapped around mine, a shiver ran through my entire body. His grip was rough yet warm. His eyes no longer held the same helplessness as before. If I could become even the smallest spark of hope in his life… everything was for him. This warm hand that protected me, this body that could learn the sword for him, every part of him—if I could one day protect it all.

Leo. The sight of you smiling was my entire world.

Watching the faint smile on his face, I made a quiet vow—not with the hand that held the sword, but with my notebook. My world began with you alone.

From that day on, Yua became my sword instructor. Once the official instructor’s guidance ended, Yua correcting my posture became the new training routine.

Whenever I struggled awkwardly with an unfamiliar movement, Yua would press close to my side and gently wrap her hands around my sword arm. Her slender, soft fingers overlapped the cold, rigid line of my own arm, as if the sword itself were trying to support my body. The warmth radiating from her small frame and the faint scent of fresh grass seeped into me, and I felt my tension-locked muscles slowly relax.

Damn it. At this rate, training was becoming less like torture and more like a massage. My ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fatigue melted away, my body loosened, yet my heart pounded for no good reason.

Yua held out her notebook, pointing out that my gaze had wandered. I followed where she indicated. Her small, gentle hand covered the back of mine, guiding the sword’s path. When her body brushed against me, an inexplicable flutter struck my heart.

The sword was no longer a heavy iron weight. It felt like a light wing fused perfectly with my hand. My body moved in harmony with hers. In an instant, my blade flew exactly where she wanted it to go.

“Oh, Yua! Did you see that? I did it!”

When I cheered, she laughed silently and wrote in her notebook.

One day after training, as we rested, Yua approached and handed me her notebook.

At the innocent question, I laughed in disbelief. “If it hurts, you take medicine. What do you mean, touch somewhere? I’m not a child, Yua.”

Yua drew my grumbling face in her notebook. Beside it, she sketched a small hand patting my arm.

She pointed at the drawing and gently patted my arm. Her clumsy but sincere gesture made the corners of my mouth lift without me realizing it.

Several more months passed. The sturdy walls of the Heavenfield ducal mansion still stood imposingly. Yet even those solid stone barriers could not hold back the ominous signs of a coming catastrophe. The sky visible through the ornate windows remained blue, but beneath that blue, I could feel the heart of the empire slowly bruising.

Of course happiness could not last forever.

Two years ago, on the day I brought Yua home, my foolish hopes for an ordinary life had already shattered. Now I could feel with my skin that this brutal existence was plunging into an entirely new dimension of chaos.

The market’s vitality had vanished like a lie. The amount of fresh vegetables and meat delivered to the mansion each morning had visibly decreased, while prices skyrocketed almost monthly. Smiles had disappeared from the merchants’ faces, replaced by deep worry, and their voices were filled with complaints and anxiety. Public sentiment grew increasingly volatile.

A few days ago, recruitment notices had been posted on the mansion walls. Young men my age—seventeen years old—stood pale-faced beneath them, shifting uneasily. From the barracks, the shouts of soldiers training day and night echoed relentlessly. The sound of sharp steel clashing instead of wooden practice swords, along with pain-filled screams, drifted into the mansion on the wind.

Damn it. Even that noise of labor served as a warning from reality. A mocking voice saying, Your quiet life is over.

“Leo. You haven’t forgotten sword training today, have you?”

Father’s voice came from the breakfast table. It was as cold and firm as always, yet carried an undertone of tension. As always, Yua stood silently beside him, watching over me. Her gaze now held the depth of a woman.

“I remember, Father.”

I answered half-heartedly, poking at my scrambled eggs with a fork. Even two years after bringing her home, my physical abilities had not improved at all. I was still completely incompatible with the sword. Yet Father continued to drive me to the training ground every day under the pretext of finding a “use” for his son. It seemed he now believed that use lay in swordsmanship. It was terribly inefficient, but I could not defy him.

After the meal, I headed to the study as usual with Yua at my side. While I reviewed documents each morning, she would read a book or write in her notebook beside me. Her presence had become part of my daily routine.

But today was different. As I tried to focus on the papers, Yua quietly called for my attention. The hand holding out her notebook trembled slightly.

I forced a smile at her question. “It’s the usual sound, isn’t it? The recruits training. It happens every day.”

Her eyes did not waver. Her insight was sharp. Yua always noticed the truths I tried to ignore first.

At her words, the corner of my mouth twisted. Yes, you can’t be fooled. You sense the world’s changes more keenly than anyone. That’s so like you. I was simply trying desperately to look away from that brutal truth. The facts I didn’t want to face always arrived this clearly.

“Don’t worry. It’s just that training has been intensified. War won’t break out so easily.”

I carefully brushed her hair back. In my previous life, every time something like this happened, how many times had I screamed, “I just want to live an ordinary life!” To protect the one person I had brought home out of meddling—only Yua—I once again wore this hypocritical smile.

Yua nodded at my words, but the anxiety in her eyes did not easily fade. She wrote small letters in her notebook and held it out.

That pure concern made something in my chest sink heavily. My only weakness. I never thought I would waver because of this child.

“Hurt? What are you talking about? I’m perfectly healthy. I swing a sword pretty well, you know.”

I shrugged with exaggerated bravado. Only then did Yua smile faintly.

By afternoon, the ducal mansion was filled with taut tension. On the way to Father’s study, every servant we passed wore an expression of deep concern. Today was the day the empire’s major families gathered for a “private family meeting.” On the surface it was about strengthening family bonds, but everyone knew the truth: this would become a council of war.

I opened the door to the meeting room and stepped inside. The air was heavy. The dukes and counts seated around the long table wore expressions as grave as their titles. In their eyes swirled complex calculations—concern for their family’s safety, the empire’s future, and their own interests.

As always, Yua stood beside me like a shadow. The meeting began with a hostile atmosphere, just as expected. Border issues in the western territories, suspicious movements by northern tribes, secret proposals from the eastern empire… everyone spoke of the omens of war. The debate grew heated, voices rising. Anxiety and anger flashed across every face. Yet their fear was not for the empire’s survival, but for the loss of their wealth and the fall of their houses.

Damn it. These disgusting hypocrites. The same people I had watched countless times in my previous life, fighting only for their own rice bowls, were on full display. To me, their empty bravado was merely ridiculous.

“In the end, war is inevitable! We must strike first and crush the enemy’s momentum!”

One marquis’s voice shook the room. At that moment, my heart dropped with a thud.

War. The word pierced my ears. War. The only thing I knew about it was the struggle for survival. The smell of blood, screams, despair. Was that world approaching once again?

I felt my fingertips grow cold with fear.

Leo. Will you be all right? I’m terrified you’ll get hurt. I need to protect you… but I’m still too small and weak.

The meeting continued. Fierce arguments and rebuttals flew back and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forth. On the surface, Leo maintained his usual cynical attitude, but his eyes flashed sharply. In this brutal world overshadowed by the shadow of war, what could he do? To protect his only world—Yua—he gripped his pen more firmly. Amid all this chaos, he began to form a new plan. For Yua. Only for Yua.