Chapter 26: Academy is discontinuing service(4)

A few months before the academy entrance ceremony, I was still receiving training from the Commander as a Royal Instructor. Those were the days when I wasn’t perfecting Defeat Swordsmanship, but rather, desperately trying to keep up with Prince Ellen, for whom Defeat Swordsmanship had become obsolete. That day too, I was sprawled on the ground, panting.

“Ah, Commander.”

“What?”

A question suddenly popped into my head.

“What happens to me when Prince Ellen becomes a Sword Master?”

“Naturally, you have to become a Sword Master too.”

“…Really?”

It was said that only those chosen by the gods could become Sword Masters. Of course, I knew from the Commander that divine intervention wasn’t actually necessary. But it was so difficult that divine intervention might actually be easier. I was dumbfounded.

“I’m kidding.”

The Commander chuckled at my expression.

“A Royal Instructor exists for the growth of the royal family. If a royal becomes a Sword Master, they wouldn’t need further growth.”

“That’s a relief.”

It really was. Even the royal family had some common sense.

“But, if you could become a Sword Master, that would be a different story. Why do you think they say becoming a Sword Master is the beginning, not the end, of the sword path?”

…Before I could even finish that thought, he hinted at the possibility of extending my service.

“I should never become a Sword Master.”

“What? It’s every swordsman’s dream! You wouldn’t do it just because you don’t want to work?”

The Commander looked at me incredulously, but I didn’t care.

“I’ve worked hard. I deserve to spend what I’ve earned.”

By the time my charge became a Sword Master, I would have received a title and be living comfortably. And with my connections to the prince and my own skills, I’d be a top-tier individual.

A prime candidate for marriage. My goal was to marry a noble lady from a good family, not become a Sword Master.

“I’ve said it many times, I have no intention of dedicating my life to the sword.”

I meant it. If I’d been truly dedicated to the sword, I wouldn’t have learned a bizarrely named style like Defeat Swordsmanship in the first place.

“If that’s what you think, I won’t force you.”

The Commander smacked his lips regretfully and added,

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too firm?”

“Consider it a strong conviction.”

“Is that what you call conviction?”

The Commander chuckled, then his expression turned mischievous.

“What is it?”

“Well, there are rules for retirement too. It would be problematic if you retired just because Prince Ellen became a Sword Master during your mission.”

“What are you talking about?”

I genuinely didn’t understand.

“If Prince Ellen becomes a Sword Master at the academy, you also have to strive to fulfill your mission.”

“You’re saying…”

Prince Ellen becoming a Sword Master in his early twenties? Back then, I hadn’t realized this world was a ropan, so it was an unimaginable scenario.

“Why do you think the kingdom sent a royal to study abroad in the Empire?”

We’d come here because of the Sword Emperor, so perhaps it was possible with his help. Did that make sense?

“Even for the Sword Emperor, isn’t that a bit… difficult?”

If that were possible, he wouldn’t be the Sword Emperor, but the God of the Sword.

“You’ll understand when you learn from him.”

His playful smile sent a chill down my spine. It was a memory that would stay with me for a long time.

****

Because of that memory, I often asked Prince Ellen what he’d learned from the Sword Emperor during our meals. And later, after teaming up with Violet, I even assigned her the task of observing the Sword Emperor’s training sessions in the Flower Arranging Club and reporting any unusual findings. So far, the Sword Emperor’s teachings didn’t seem particularly special.

How should I put it? It was like a professor telling students to ask questions after class, and then actually teaching those who came.

He would explain things in more detail than in class, ensuring the diligent students who sought him out understood.

Of course, with his reputation, his teachings were invaluable to the students. But his instruction in the Flower Arranging Club and the Swordsmanship Club, which he occasionally visited, wasn’t significantly different. It was just that the members of the Flower Arranging Club were exceptionally talented, so he taught them at a higher level.

According to Aryn, he taught similar material to the advanced students in the Swordsmanship Club. Knowing this, I managed to calm my anxieties.

He would probably teach me in a similar way. Perhaps the only difference would be one-on-one instruction? He was setting aside time just for me, so he would probably pay a bit more attention.

With that understanding, I agreed to receive his instruction. Honestly, a small part of me, the dormant swordsman within, had also been reawakened.

And that’s why I was certain. There was a reason the swordsman’s voice within me had been so quiet. There was a reason it had been living a meager existence, like a tenant in a cramped rooftop apartment or a semi-basement.

“Is this right?”

“It is.”

The Sword Emperor stood there, holding a sword. Something felt wrong.

According to my information, he rarely drew his sword when teaching, and even then, it was only to demonstrate a few stances, not to spar. But as soon as I agreed to his instruction, he drew his sword. And then, he told me, still dazed, to draw mine. It would have been fine if he’d just told me to follow his movements, but…

“There’s no better way to learn the sword than by crossing blades.”

The benevolent, grandfatherly expression vanished, replaced by something else. Something familiar. The Commander sometimes had that expression when he was about to go all out. He wasn’t technically the Commander’s disciple, but the resemblance between master and… well, not disciple, was uncanny.

No, it couldn’t be. This was the Sword Emperor. The legendary figure who had accomplished so much, unlike the Commander, who, despite being a Sword Master, often acted childishly. They couldn’t be the same.

“Come at me.”

But my hopes were shattered. The way he beckoned me with a flick of his hand was identical to the Commander’s.

****

Aren, the Sword Emperor, thought:

‘Is this what they call the tide of an era?’

A new era was dawning. He was now experiencing what he’d heard when he first rose to prominence.

‘Interesting.’

He’d been somewhat forced into the professorship, but he was enjoying it more than he’d expected. The swordsmanship students, though lacking in some areas, were surprisingly skilled. The Swordsmanship Club members, who were more serious about their training, reminded him of old acquaintances.

And for some reason, the students in the Flower Arranging Club, even more talented than those in the Swordsmanship Department, heralded the arrival of a new era. And among them, two individuals, in particular, made him wonder if the tide might one day overwhelm him.

‘Ellen, Adam.’

Was this the legacy of Leon, the Kingdom of Knights?

The Prince of Leon was far more talented than he himself had been at that age, and Adam, despite his eccentricities, was also excellent. So excellent that his own grandson, who had no rivals his age, was soundly defeated.

It pained him to see his grandson disheartened by successive defeats, but it wasn’t a bad experience. In fact, defeat in a real battle meant death. Getting accustomed to defeat in this manner was a good thing.

So, he’d been observing Ellen and Adam. And he’d summoned them to his office, offering to teach them. He’d been genuinely shocked when Adam flatly refused.

So, when Adam, using his connection with his grandson as an excuse, finally agreed to his instruction, he decided to teach him seriously, with a hint of lingering resentment from that earlier rejection.

“…”

And he was quite… no, very surprised.

‘In terms of pure physical prowess, he’s actually superior.’

The most talented swordsman among the freshmen, or even the entire academy, was Ellen, the Prince of Leon. Even Ellen’s father, one of the most skilled individuals he’d ever taught, hadn’t been this good. They’d only crossed swords a few times, and never seriously, but Ellen’s swordsmanship was a testament to raw talent, making his own past self seem insignificant.

In comparison, Adam’s talent was… obvious, but less dazzling. He wasn’t untalented, far from it, but compared to Ellen’s brilliance, it was like comparing the sun to a firefly. And yet, he was certain.

“You’re accustomed to fighting stronger opponents.”

Unlike Ellen, who clashed with him with flashes of brilliance, Adam reacted to his attacks with a practiced ease. He was accustomed to fighting opponents far stronger than himself. And what made that possible was his pure physical strength and solid fundamentals. A refreshing change from ordinary students.

And even…

“…”

Look at that reaction. Gritting his teeth, an expression of utter exhaustion.

He tried not to let his reputation precede him, but he was the idol of all swordsmen on the continent. Even if he tried to ignore it, those around him couldn’t. But from their first encounter, Adam had tried not to be intimidated by him. Not as the Sword Emperor, or even as a professor.

More like a troublesome deity, a disaster best avoided?

Interesting. Even his rivals in his youth hadn’t treated him like this. So, he got a little carried away.

“Ah…”

A single mistake, and Adam collapsed, unable to even cry out.

“…Oops.”

Such a mistake. A terrible mistake for a professor, but unavoidable for a swordsman.

“Still, it’s not too bad.”

Fortunately, he’d unconsciously controlled his strength at the last moment. Conversely, it meant he hadn’t been holding back much before that. Even without using his aura, the symbol of a Sword Master…

He hadn’t imagined a freshman could withstand that much. It was something he hadn’t anticipated before coming to the academy.

“It seems my old age won’t be too lonely.”

He’d become a professor due to personal reasons, but now, the Sword Emperor understood, just a little, the joy of discovering a potential successor.