Chapter 22
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Chapter 22
Fatima's eyes widened as she laughed, her pupils so large that her eye shape narrowed until barely any white showed. It was endearing, like a puppy's expression. And I had always been drawn to beautiful things. That was partly why I didn't dislike Fatima, despite her persistent pestering about joining the Club. Though truthfully, the primary reason was that she saw me for who I was, unbothered by gossip and rumors.
"I'm the founding Club Master of Wisdom, you know. My instincts are telling me you're genuinely, truly exceptional talent. So we need to claim you before the other clubs catch on!"
"I'm not sure what you see in me, senior."
"I've been watching the new students incredibly carefully. I've seen almost all the duels and training sessions! I even have a recruitment list. Of course, Echinacea Loaz, you're target number one on that list!"
"Who else is on this list?"
I chuckled softly as I asked. The moment I showed interest, Fatima's face brightened considerably as she began counting on her fingers.
"Well, including you, there are three people I'm most focused on. I'm confident these three will take first, second, and third place in the new student rankings. Then you'll have to acknowledge my eye for talent, right? First, there's Mikhail, the younger brother of Teresa von Frang Almari, the Giosa Owner—"
I barely managed to hide my shock. Teresa's younger brother—I knew who that was. I had memories of killing him in Agenka before my return. The image of the blonde female knight clutching the corpse of a boy who resembled me, wailing in anguish, remained vivid in my mind.
Fatima, unaware that I had flinched, continued with a bright smile.
"And then there's Alice Winterbell, your roommate! She's truly exceptional too. Genuine talent. Though she seems to be in a bit of a slump right now."
"...A slump? Alice Winterbell?"
"You two are roommates but call each other so formally? Are you on bad terms? I guess you did have a duel on the first day."
Fatima tilted her head curiously. As we talked while walking, the Female Dormitory came into view. Fatima pointed toward the Spruce Forest that had been cultivated behind the dormitory.
"You know there's a 9th Training Ground inside the forest, right? Alice usually trains there. If you go take a look, you'll understand. Go check it out. I think you really need to see it."
"Something I need to see? Why do you think that?"
"From what I can tell, Alice's slump seems to be because of you."
Caught off guard by her unexpected words, I could only blink. Fatima smiled mysteriously, then gave my back a gentle push.
"Roommates should get along! You two will be perfect together!"
Perfect together? That seemed unlikely. Before I could protest, Fatima waved her hand and quickly ran off.
"Since I gave you advice, when you become close, you both need to join Wisdom together, okay? You're not going to betray me, right? I'll be waiting!"
“....”
I watched her braided hair disappear with a bewildered expression. Then I turned my gaze toward the Spruce Forest behind the dormitory.
I had carried guilt toward Alice Winterbell all this time. I had deliberately provoked her for my own convenience, handled our duel carelessly, and shown her many unfavorable sides of myself. I didn't entirely believe Fatima's claim that my actions caused her slump, but...
[Are you going to check it out?]
"For now, yes."
I stepped onto the narrow path leading into the forest. There was nothing else to do anyway. With Baraha Islaf away, I couldn't receive squire training, and the Yurien problem wouldn't resolve until the monster subjugation. I had sent a telegram to Nicole requesting detailed information about the Demonic Sword's origins. Until her reply arrived, there was nothing I could do. Training to prepare for the rankings would be meaningless given my current abilities.
Sunlight pierced through the densely growing spruces that stretched toward the sky. The forest interior was quiet. The deeper I ventured, the richer the forest's scent enveloped my body. The 9th Training Ground sat naturally like a simple clearing in the forest, slightly off the path that cut through the woods.
The Military Academy had many training grounds. So this remote location with minimal facilities was rarely visited by cadets. I sensed only one person's presence nearby.
Unlike other training grounds, the floor of the 9th Training Ground was a grassy field mixed with weeds and grass. In the center of it, a woman in a sweat-soaked white shirt was moving her sword. Her deep blue cadet uniform jacket hung carelessly on a nearby branch, swaying gently in the breeze.
Spying on someone else's training was disrespectful. I deliberately didn't suppress my footsteps or presence as I approached the training ground. Yet Alice Winterbell, absorbed in her sword work, didn't notice my approach.
I stood at the edge of the training ground, observing Alice's movements. She was wielding her sword against an imaginary opponent. Sunlight filtered through the spruce branches, scattering across her short blonde hair. Beads of sweat sprayed along the trajectory of her blade.
I was unfairly talented. One might suspect that the misfortune given to me was the price for possessing such enormous talent. Despite never having properly trained in swordsmanship, I had reached a Master's level or beyond, and that talent was the foundation. Of course, my vast practical combat experience and the knowledge I had internalized about how the Demonic Sword moved contributed greatly. The Demonic Sword moved in the most efficient manner for slaughter, and swordsmanship was simply the most efficient way to kill an opponent.
So I recognized it immediately. What was wrong with Alice, what caused it, and how she could overcome it.
Alice's gray eyes had lost the dignity she originally possessed and were wandering aimlessly. Her sword had lost its way. And just as Fatima said, it was my fault.
'It was because of our duel.'
Alice's sword had originally been fast, precise, and refined. Though I had only dueled her once, her swordsmanship had felt elegant and clean.
But now she swung her sword wildly, having lost that precision. Her posture had collapsed clumsily. Rough, mismatched trajectories had mixed into her swordsmanship, and because they didn't suit her, they were even disrupting her existing strengths.
Alice's black sword was originally in a fast, precise, and refined form. Though they had only crossed blades once, her swordsmanship was so clean that it felt elegant.
But now she had lost that precision and was swinging her sword wildly. Her posture collapsed clumsily. Rough trajectories that didn't suit her mixed into her swordsmanship, and because they didn't fit her style, even her existing strengths were falling apart.
When we had dueled, my blade had left an impression on her. That crude, reflexive swordplay devoid of any personal style—its phantom lingered in Alice now. It must have been shocking for someone as peculiar as Echinacea Loaz to suffer defeat on her very first day at the academy.
The solution seemed simple enough: erase that phantom and return to Alice's original swordplay. But if she could simply forget it by trying, the phantom would never have taken root in the first place. It would take Alice considerable time to overcome this on her own.
I wrestled with the dilemma for a while. Interfering with another's swordplay was itself disrespectful. I was neither her senior nor her close friend. If anything, we were on poor terms.
Having never formally studied the blade, I had naturally never taught anyone either. Alice hadn't asked for my help. If I tried to assist, she might take it as an insult or grow angry.
No matter how I looked at it, the right answer was to turn away and pretend I'd seen nothing. Yet I exhaled softly, drew the cheap longsword I carried, carelessly tossed its scabbard to the ground, and stepped into the radius of Alice's swing. I deflected the blind blade as it came slashing toward my ribs.
The blades met with a sharp clang.
"...!"
Only then did Alice notice my presence, startled. She must have been deeply focused. She dropped her blade and retreated. As Alice steadied her ragged breathing, I stood motionless, sword hanging at my side.
"...What is the meaning of this, Miss Loaz?"
Alice asked coldly. I smiled slightly.
"Let's spar, Miss Winterbell."
"That's the most discourteous sparring request I've ever received. You really are...."
Alice's expression twisted. I, who was about to do something far more discourteous, paid no mind to her criticism. What I was about to do would seem like a miracle from a knight's perspective, but I harbored no expectation of gratitude or reward for it.
'As long as I don't get cursed out, that's good enough. This is still the most certain and fastest way to erase my phantom from her mind.'
I leveled my blade. With a scornful smirk, I spoke.
"Are you afraid of losing to me?"
Fire ignited in Alice's eyes. Her brows trembled slightly. Her grip on the sword tightened visibly. She clenched her teeth as she answered.
"Do you think someone aspiring to be a knight would fear defeat? That's not the issue here."
"Then just spar with me. Let's spar, Miss Winterbell."
"You're missing the point! Barging into someone's solo training, blocking their blade without permission, and calling it a spar?"
"Ah, I'm sorry about that. You were so focused I didn't want to interrupt."
"Interrupting without asking is far more rude than calling out!"
"I didn't realize that."
I blinked as I replied. Of course, it was a lie. I'd deliberately barged in to provoke her. A polite sparring request wouldn't have stirred her enough. As expected, Alice flared up in anger.
"Do you even intend to become a knight? If someone wielding a sword doesn't observe courtesy and law, what separates them from the ruffians of the Back Alley?"
"I'll be more careful from now on. Anyway, so we're sparring or not?"
I twirled the longsword planted in the ground playfully, asking casually. There wasn't a shred of respect for the blade in my demeanor. Alice, her face flushed with anger, adjusted her grip.
"Draw your sword."
"Thanks. Let's skip the formalities between us. Here goes."
I made the decision unilaterally and raised my blade. Without giving Alice time to set her stance, I lunged forward immediately. Caught off guard, she received the strike in an awkward position.
From that moment on, I displayed a completely different aspect than during our duel. Relentless attacks poured forth—fast, precise, and economical. The hem of my dress, reaching to my calves, wrapped and unwrapped around my legs. My delicate feminine shoes marked a steady rhythm on the ground.
Alice desperately parried my onslaught until, at some point, she recognized the rhythm. The trajectory of my thrusts, the movement of my arms, how I managed my gaze, my defensive form, my footwork, how I shifted my weight.
'This can't be real.'
She felt like a completely different person than during our duel. Clean, elegant swordplay. Refined movements. It was all too familiar. Echinacea Loaz was wielding swordplay identical to Alice's own.
'No, this is actually more...!'
It wasn't the same. She had felt this sensation before—when sparring with the knight who had taught her swordplay before coming to the academy. The feeling of witnessing swordplay that matched her own yet was more perfected.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org