Chapter 83 : Swordsmanship (2)

I stared at Agnes, who was holding a sword to my throat, and thought to myself:

Why is it that everything I do always ends up in chaos like this?

“Answer me, Ruina! Who taught you that swordsmanship?”

Agnes’s harsh voice echoed, making my eyebrows twitch nervously. I glanced down at my neck, where her blade gleamed with a menacing blue hue.

Then I looked away, gazing into the distance, and thought:

Why… why is this happening… damn it.

This is absurd. All I did was use the swordsmanship I worked hard to learn. And now, because of that, I’m on the verge of being exposed and possibly losing my head.

Even swordsmanship, of all things, has now become a trap for me…

Honestly, I’m baffled. Judging by Agnes’s words, the swordsmanship I’ve been using doesn’t seem to be just any ordinary technique. But until now, I never imagined it carried such a heavy secret.

‘I just thought it was a strong and practical style…’

Royal swordsmanship of Draken, passed down only among the chosen… What the hell? I didn’t even know it was a royal style!

Everything Agnes has said so far is completely new to me.

The fact that this technique was the royal swordsmanship of the dragonkin kingdom, or that it was only passed down to select individuals—all of it!

Suddenly, a memory surfaced.

I recalled the first day Redros began teaching me the Wind Dragon’s Sword. His knights had vehemently protested against it.

At the time, they had said:

“To think you would pass down the Wind Dragon’s Sword to someone so unworthy! No matter how much we respect you, Redros, this is unacceptable! I would rather die than agree to this!”

‘So that’s why they were so adamant back then.’

At the time, I couldn’t understand why they were making such a fuss. But now, it’s clear. It was because of this deeply rooted legacy.

Of course, they would be opposed. Why wouldn’t they be furious at the idea of some nobody inheriting the swordsmanship of the royal family they served?

They must have been absolutely disgusted. And on top of that, I wasn’t even a dragonkin, which must have made it worse.

Well, in the end, Redros’s unyielding stubbornness silenced all their protests…

Wait a minute.

Then what does that make Redros?

If his knights had protested so strongly, it meant Redros knew all about this lineage.

So he was aware of this history and still decided to teach me?

Not once did he ever mention that the Wind Dragon’s Sword carried such secrets. He didn’t even hint at it.

Although, now that I think about it… Maybe he wasn’t entirely silent about it.

I remember once, during all the fuss raised by the other successors, I asked him about the Wind Dragon’s Sword.

“Redros, do I really have to learn this swordsmanship? Your men are so against it…”

And he had answered me with infuriating calmness.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I pressed further, saying, “But they’re putting up such a fight! There must be a reason. Are you hiding something from me?”

He simply said, “It’s a swordsmanship with a bit of a special history. That’s why they’re sensitive about it. Don’t worry about the noise; just focus on mastering it.”

I guess it was from that moment on that I stopped thinking about the history behind the swordsmanship.

Why? Because when the strongest person I knew told me not to worry, I didn’t see any reason to waste time overthinking it.

I’d rather spend that time practicing my swings.

‘So this “special history” he mentioned was this?’

Yes, he did tell me there was a secret behind it.

The problem was…

He said it was just a bit of a special history.

‘Redros, you bastard! This isn’t a bit special! It’s a big freaking deal!’

I swallowed the urge to shout into the heavens, clenching my trembling fists in frustration.

‘What do I do now?’

I thought hard. How could I get out of this situation? Her blade still hovered dangerously close to my neck.

Let’s review the situation: Agnes is asking me who taught me this swordsmanship.

And I can’t answer her because my mentor is Redros, who, from her perspective, is an enemy.

The best course of action would be to lie and claim another dragonkin as my teacher.

But there’s a problem with that.

Every dragonkin I could name as a potential mentor lives in the demon realm, and worse, they’re all well-known figures.

If they were obscure, I might have considered trying to bluff. But no, these are prominent individuals who hold notable positions.

Would naming one of them resolve the situation? Absolutely not.

So what can I do?

I have no idea, damn it!

Isn’t there a term in chess for when no move can save you from checkmate? That’s exactly how I feel right now.

No matter what I say, I can only see disastrous outcomes ahead.

‘AAAAAAHHHHH!’

I screamed internally, resisting the urge to tear my hair out.

But then, out of nowhere, a clear memory surfaced in my mind, as if a veil had been lifted.

“Ruina, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The memory was of Redros’s words. He had said them to me long ago while I was training in the Wind Dragon’s Sword.

I’m saying this just in case, but if you use this swordsmanship after learning it, someday someone might see your technique, express hostility toward you, and ask about your master.

If that ever happens, say that your master is not me but Ares.

He inherited the swords of the Wind Dragon and Thunder Dragon, so it wouldn’t be strange to call him your master.

What are you suddenly talking about?

Just keep it in mind. You might need it someday.

At the time, I couldn’t understand what he was saying at all. But somehow, the current situation aligns perfectly with what he said.

Agnes, who began to suspect me after seeing me use the Wind Dragon’s sword, and the situation where she is asking who taught me swordsmanship.

‘Could it be that Redros predicted this moment?’

Doubt suddenly arises. The situation fits so perfectly that I even suspect he foresaw it.

However, there’s no time to think about such things now.

Right now, the only option I have is to follow Redros’s words.

A way out has appeared. Whether or not he truly anticipated this situation, I need to get through this first.

Alright, let’s answer her now.

Having made up my mind, I finally opened my tightly shut mouth after a few minutes. Then, I spoke cautiously.

“It’s Sir Ares.”

“What?”

“The name of the one who taught me swordsmanship and gave me the strength to live is Sir Ares.”

“Ares… you say? Is that true…?”

I nodded in response to Agnes’s incredulous expression. I kept affirming her repeated questions.

Then, Agnes’s expression brightened as if flowers were blooming in spring.

“Sir Ares is alive…!”

What a pity.

For the record, I don’t know who Ares is. I don’t know his face, personality, or anything else about him. But I do know a few things about him.

Who is this Ares person?

He was my irreplaceable friend.

One is that he was a close friend of Redros.

Isn’t that even more dangerous, though? What if the real one shows up and says you’re lying?

That won’t happen. He’s no longer of this world.

The other is that he is no longer alive.

Other than these, I know nothing about him. But even I can now discern one thing about him.
Ares seems to have been quite an extraordinary person.

And for good reason.

As soon as Agnes heard the name Ares, her attitude toward me changed completely.

Her sharp, piercing gaze and demeanor from earlier had turned into a friendly look, and her icy tone now carried a hint of warmth.

She asked,

“Ruina, where is Sir Ares now?”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer.

He’s probably in heaven, but saying that here would ruin everything.

I replied with an apologetic expression,

“I’m sorry… I don’t know either. It’s been a long time since he disappeared…”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes, he said he had something to do and left for somewhere.”

“Something to do… Ah, I think I get the idea. Alright. Then let me ask you one more thing.
What was your relationship with Sir Ares?”

How should I answer? If I give a good response now, things will go more smoothly in the future.

After thinking for a moment, a good idea came to mind, and I opened my mouth.

“It’s hard to call it a typical master-disciple relationship. I met him purely by chance.”

Simplicity is best. I went with the classic master-student relationship while hinting at some deeper story.

I let out a bitter smile, trying to give the impression that I felt awkward talking about it.

“It wasn’t a significant relationship. I just picked up a few lessons from him. To him, I was merely someone he helped by chance. Among his many connections, I was probably the least important. He probably thought of me that way too.”

Hearing this, Agnes shook her head and replied,

“No, that’s not true. Relationships are always formed by chance. And the swordsmanship of the Dragon Kings is undoubtedly powerful but also extremely difficult to master.”

“It requires many qualifications to learn, and because it’s so strong, most practitioners are reluctant to pass it on to others.”

“Understand? Despite those conditions, Sir Ares taught you this swordsmanship.”

“He must have thought long and hard about whether what he was doing was right, especially since he was a knight representing the royal family.”

“Looking at you now, I can see what decision he made.”

“Do you still think Sir Ares felt nothing toward you?”

Of course. There was never even an opportunity for emotions to develop, let alone emotions themselves. He probably doesn’t even know my face.

But I couldn’t say that. To stay consistent with the story I had created, I grumbled slightly,

“But he hid himself from me.”

“Because you are precious to him. He probably left you because he cherished you too much. The path he intended to walk was likely a thorny one. He couldn’t bear to take you along such a path.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Without a doubt.”

Agnes assured me with a smile.

“Well, in just a few minutes, I’ve suddenly gained a master who cherishes me deeply. Should I be happy about this or not?”

I sighed inwardly, trying to process the whirlwind of events.

“Anyway, it’s a relief,” Agnes said as she sheathed her sword, which had been hovering dangerously close to my neck.

“It’s a relief that the one who taught you swordsmanship was Sir Ares. If it had been anyone else, I might have had to execute you.”

“Execute…?”

“Yes. Aside from those who disappeared alongside Sir Ares, anyone else who could have been your teacher is aligned with the demons. That’s why I had to confirm it.”

Her explanation sent a chill down my spine.

No wonder she had acted so boldly. It seemed she had come here with a degree of certainty already.

The thought of what might have happened if I hadn’t remembered Redros’s advice… A cold sweat ran down my back.

“Good. All my doubts about you are cleared now,” she continued, her tone lighter. “It’s a relief that no conflict arose between kin. And now, I can ask for your help with something more comfortably.”

“Help…?”

Her last comment left me puzzled. What could she possibly want from me in a situation like this?

As I stood there in confusion, Agnes looked at me with an unusually serious expression. Her golden eyes gleamed as they locked onto mine.

“Ruina, I have a favor to ask. Will you grant it?”

What should I do?

I couldn’t answer hastily. Based on everything that had happened so far, her requests seemed to lead to nothing but surprises.

After a moment of hesitation, I decided to at least hear her out. The atmosphere was less tense than before, and simply listening couldn’t hurt—at least, that’s what I told myself.

Besides, refusing outright might jeopardize the rapport I had carefully built up.

I asked cautiously, “What is it you’d like me to do?”

Agnes hesitated briefly, appearing to wrestle with some inner conflict. Then, with a look of resolve, she opened her mouth to speak.

Her face was slightly flushed, and her mannerisms brought to mind a shy girl mustering courage.

Feeling a sense of foreboding, I braced myself for whatever monumental request might come next.

And then, she said it.

“Ruina, could you teach me swordsmanship?”

Her request was so unexpected it left me utterly dumbfounded.

I stood frozen for a moment, trying to comprehend her words.

Had I heard her correctly?

As I replayed her request in my head, I slowly regained my senses.

Looking at her with a face full of incredulity, I finally managed to stammer out a response:

“Excuse me… what?”

My voice, layered with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and sheer astonishment, echoed through the forest.