Fragment of a Sword Expert (1)

Late evening. In front of the Academy chapel.

Following behind Harold as he examined the wound on his side, I cautiously observed his demeanor.

“……”

“…Ahem.”

Ah, damn it.

What the hell do I do now?

Still, since I’m a maid belonging to the Blackwood family and I was the one who injured Harold’s side, I followed him to the chapel.

But in the end, I couldn’t utter a single word and just quietly kept my mouth shut, trailing behind him until he came out after receiving treatment.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to suppress that temper of yours? You’ve gotten into plenty of trouble because of it before.’

‘I’m giving you sincere advice-tone down that attitude of yours.’

Fuck.

Why the hell am I remembering that bastard Gyeotmwa Josyegigot’s advice right now?

Of course, if I’d listened to him, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Getting injured during sparring is surprisingly common, and since the chapel is a well-developed facility, as long as you don’t die, most injuries can be healed with divine power in this world.

Leaving a wound on someone of Harold’s stature was, in a way, a big deal, but it was also proof of my growth in a positive sense, so it wasn’t a major issue.

…The real problem was the words I’d spat at Harold during the process.

‘Drop dead, you crazy bastard! You fucking stone-headed sword maniac!’

‘If you’ve got a problem with me, say it with your mouth, you fucking asshole! You son of a bitch, trying to kill me out of nowhere?!’

‘Was me sticking with Ethan that fucking annoying?! You goddamn idiot bastard!’

…I want to crawl into a slime den. Or sell my soul to a demon to turn back time by just 30 minutes.

Honestly speaking, the fact that I cursed at him is somewhat justifiable. The sword Harold suddenly drew for sparring was clearly imbued with killing intent-anyone could see that. If I’d slipped up even once, I could’ve been split in half multiple times.

The Academy’s training facilities have death-prevention magic, so even if I’d been split into Lil/Ris during the spar with Harold, I wouldn’t have died. But getting injured that badly would’ve been fatal for me as an Academy student.

The wounds I got from fighting Agnes in last year’s evaluation match took over a week to heal. If I’d been split in half by an active Sword Master and nearly died, I might’ve had to skip the entire remaining semester.

‘If only he’d at least turned on the training barrier, the injuries would’ve been minor enough to heal in a few days…’

But Harold didn’t even give me time to activate the training barrier today, so it’s only natural that I ended up harboring hatred and killing intent toward him.

Of course, even so, there are things you can say out loud and things you can’t, so in the end, it’s still my fault.

‘At this rate, I might really get fired.’

Even if it was my true feelings, I essentially admitted that I’d always thought of Harold as an insane, obsessive father. It wouldn’t be strange if my contract as Ethan’s exclusive maid was terminated right here and now.

Not to mention, I practically revealed everything about my relationship with Ethan, which I’d been evading metaphorically before.

At the time, the words just burst out because I was furious. I thought the only reason Harold would harbor killing intent toward me right now was if I’d messed with Ethan.

At least in this world, it was highly likely that Harold still didn’t know Ethan had feelings for me.

Unlike in the original game, Ethan didn’t parade me around naked to show off that I was his slave, nor did he tie Lilith up every night and torment her with strange toys to force her submission.

As twisted as those expressions were, in the game, they were his way of showing obsession toward Lilith. Since Ethan in this world doesn’t display such obvious behavior, Harold wouldn’t have noticed his feelings for me.

What the hell would that dead-eyed bastard know anyway? At best, he probably just thinks Ethan sees me as a sex maid.

After walking silently behind Harold for a while without saying a word, he eventually led me to a bench in one corner of the Academy’s central garden.

“Sit down first.”

“…Yes, Master.”

“Here, I’m Professor Harold.”

“…Yes, Professor Harold.”

Following Harold’s suggestion-which was more like an order-I sat on the bench.

Then, Harold, who had taken a seat on another bench one space away, quietly called my name.

“I apologize for starting the training without any prior explanation. I thought this method would be most effective for you.”

“…Oh, no. From an educator’s perspective, Professor Harold’s judgment was undoubtedly correct a hundred times over. If anything, I was the one who misunderstood and spoke out of turn, so I have no excuse.”

“Facing a Sword Master’s killing intent out of nowhere, it’d be strange if you didn’t curse. In fact, as a swordsman, it’s a good attitude to face it head-on rather than freezing up.”

“…Thank you.”

But… I’m not a swordsman.

The words rose to my throat, but I swallowed them. Right now, my fate hangs on every word Harold says, so I couldn’t risk it.

Even if my actions couldn’t be punished under the professor-student relationship, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t affect my employment. What employer would want to keep a maid who secretly badmouths them?

‘…Is this the end of being Ethan’s exclusive maid?’

No, more importantly, if my contract with the Blackwood family ends, how am I supposed to live starting next semester?

What happens to the marriage/engagement dormitory with Ethan? How do I retrieve my belongings left at the Blackwood mansion?

My mind was a mess for various reasons, so whether I was a swordsman or not didn’t matter anymore.

“So, did you make any progress?”

“…Huh?”

“Your swordsmanship. Earlier, I noticed you accurately predicted the trajectory of my sword and moved accordingly. It was as if you’d realized something mid-spar.”

“…I might have realized something, yes.”

“Did you feel like time slowed down? Or perhaps you saw where the next strike would come from? Something like that?”

“……?!”

Harold described the exact sensation I’d experienced moments ago.

How the hell does he know that? I stared at him silently, and Harold gave me a rare smile along with a brief congratulation.

“Congratulations, Lilith. You’ve reached the threshold of a Sword Expert.”

“…Huh?”

…A Sword Expert?

…Me??

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

Even after hearing Harold say I’d reached the threshold of a Sword Expert, I tilted my head in confusion for a while, unsure what it meant.

I’ve reached the threshold of a Sword Expert? Me, Lilith?

Normally, I would’ve dismissed it as a joke, but the person saying it was Harold.

A Sword Master. One of the Emperor’s Three Blades. And those utterly serious eyes that showed no hint of deception.

There wasn’t a trace of humor in Harold’s expression, so I couldn’t just blurt out, “Stop joking.”

“Predicting the path of your opponent’s sword and adjusting your own accordingly-that is the threshold of a Sword Expert.”

“I see…”

“Of course, since you primarily wield daggers, you used magic to deflect instead of clashing blades directly. But the fact that you saw the sword’s path means you’ve undoubtedly taken your first step toward becoming a Sword Expert.”

“Is… that so…”

A Sword Expert.

Honestly, I never thought I’d reach this point so soon.

Of course, since I wield a dagger as a secondary weapon, I vaguely thought I might reach it someday.

But I assumed that “someday” wouldn’t be during my time at the Academy. More like 10 or 20 years from now.

With 10 or 20 years of experience as an adventurer, I’d become a moderately well-known name in the region, and in the process, I’d have no choice but to swing my dagger countless times for self-defense. So I figured I’d reach it eventually.

“Watching your spars with Natalie, I had a feeling. Your drive for growth isn’t based on desire or ambition-it’s fueled by ‘rage.'”

“…Huh?”

“The expression on your face as you desperately deflected Natalie’s long rapier with your dagger confirmed it. The way you read her sword’s path in an instant, despite your fury at having to face a long rapier with a short dagger.”

“……”

“So I deliberately set up a situation where you’d feel unjust rage toward me. Though it seems I angered you more than I intended, haha.”

“Ha, haha…”

Harold suddenly lightened the mood with a friendly laugh.

Maybe I could smoothly move past my outburst during the spar? I tried laughing along subtly, but…

“…Speaking of which.”

“Yes, Professor Harold.”

“Since when have you thought of me as a deranged, obsessive father?”

…Yeah, the crime I committed was too big to just brush off like that.

“……”

Ah, damn it.

I think I’m really screwed now.