The Master of Blades Does Not Hide Their Hands – 5

-Clang, clang.

The sound of bells ringing in the distance spread across the night sky.

The heavy, perhaps even ominous sound, failed to travel far and gradually fell to the ground.

And it reached the ears of Maria and me, wielding our swords above that ground.

That was the second time the bell had rung already. That meant two hours had passed.

I had picked up my sword thinking I would loosen up for a bit…

Maybe it was because I had lived in a martial arts world, or maybe it was just my meddling nature, but I swung my sword without realizing how much time had passed.

“Hah… hah… hah…”

And the result was the sight of Maria before my eyes.

She couldn’t even maintain a proper stance and was gasping for breath. She looked like she would collapse if I so much as touched her.

It had been a continuous, one-sided offensive and defensive.

When she swung her greatsword, I deflected it with my wooden sword, and I suppressed her by finding gaps in her continuous attacks and stabbing with the tip of my sword.

Judging Maria’s skills based on the standards of the martial arts world, she was somewhere between second-rate and first-rate.

I was somewhat surprised that Maria had skills in the upper-middle tier among the Inquisitors.

Considering that the Holy Knights’ skills were at the first-rate level or just entering the peak, she would have a hard time even passing the preliminaries, let alone winning a prize at the competition.

I had hoped that her posture would improve even a little as I pushed her for two hours, but it didn’t improve at all.

I wondered if she lacked a knack for this, so I decided to stop teaching her.

“Good work,” I said, lowering my wooden sword, and Maria collapsed to the ground.

The dust from the training ground clung to her Nun’s Habit.

Maria had a hard time calming her breathing.

Was it because she didn’t receive high-intensity training like the Holy Knights? It seemed like her basic stamina was weak.

“Hoo…”

I took a deep breath of the refreshing night air and exhaled.

I had been feeling restless from living such a sedentary life, but swinging my sword like this seemed to make me feel a little better.

…I felt sorry for tormenting Maria too much, though.

“Get up,” I said, offering my hand to Maria, feeling uneasy about her continuing to sit on the cold ground.

“…”

But she didn’t respond.

Something was dripping from under her lowered head.

“Sister Maria?”

I bent down, worried.

Did she notice me getting closer? Maria’s head lowered even further.

“Sister Maria… are you perhaps crying?”

I asked cautiously, as what was dripping onto the ground looked like tears.

Maria shook her head without answering.

It was a denial.

But that was actually an affirmation.

The teardrops falling on the ground gradually increased.

I could hear her sniffing in between.

“…I’m sorry. Did I push you too hard?”

I scratched my head awkwardly, looking back at my excited self as I swung my sword.

I had said I would teach her, but I had just been enthusiastically bullying her. She must have felt wronged.

“…”

Maria still showed no sign of raising her head, even at my words.

Unable to do anything, I aimlessly circled around her.

“…Saint.”

After a few minutes, Maria called out to me, sobbing.

“Saint…”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I… I can’t do it anymore.”

“Huh?”

“I… I can’t do it anymore. Not interpreting the Bible every day, not improving my skills enough to beat the Holy Knights, not enduring the jealous looks from those around me who say I’m in the Saint’s retinue…”

It felt like something that had been piling up in Maria’s chest was gradually being brought out.

Maria began to talk about the things that were weighing her down, one by one.

The Bible.

The training.

The gazes of those around her.

Her conduct as an Inquisitor.

And…

“I’m scared of the expectations you have for me, Saint.”

Maria raised her head and met my gaze.

Expectations that I didn’t know I had for her.

“I swung my sword diligently for two hours… but I didn’t reach you, Saint. I kept allowing openings… there was no improvement… how can I go to the competition and prove my qualifications with this…?”

Maria muttered, her shoulders rising and falling slightly.

What qualifications did she want to prove?

I wondered if I should ask, but I didn’t bother.

One thing was certain: she hadn’t volunteered to go to the competition.

And I had a feeling that my existence was somewhat mixed up in that decision.

Having poured everything out, Maria buried her face in her knees and sobbed quietly.

I felt a pang of sympathy.

I had also been blocked by walls during my training.

It was like that before my first vocalization, and I had to face minor limitations even after that.

I enjoyed learning Martial arts, so I was able to accept those limitations with a happy heart.

Martial arts was my goal.

But Maria was different.

For her, swordsmanship was a means. A means to satisfy the expectations that weighed her down.

That was why she was being chased.

But I knew.

That skills don’t improve when you approach it with a chased mind.

I slowly grabbed Maria’s shoulders and lifted her up.

It was impossible to lift her with my pure strength, but Maria, realizing my intention, straightened herself up halfway.

I and she were now facing each other.

Maria, her face covered in tears, seemed to feel embarrassed belatedly and kept trying to turn her head away.

“Sister Maria. I’m really sorry, but would you try grabbing a weapon just one last time?”

I put strength into the hand holding her shoulder.

Yes, I said I would look at her posture, so I had to take responsibility for that.

However, I needed to change my teaching method a bit.

At the Saint’s words, Maria obediently picked up her sword.

Not because she believed his words, but because it was the Saint’s instruction.

‘I’ll probably just collapse pathetically again anyway.’

She had this thought even as she picked up her sword.

Her palms were already full of blisters from gripping the greatsword.

She endured the stinging sensation and gripped the handle of the greatsword tightly.

Gripping the sword tightly.

That was the only realization she had gained through the Saint.

Maria imagined the Saint taking out his sword in front of her, but then tilted her head.

She had felt the Saint’s presence behind her just a moment ago when they were facing each other.

“Saint?”

Maria’s voice was full of questions.

“Sister Maria. Just take your stance as is.”

The Saint’s voice came from behind her.

Maria tilted her head but took the stance as taught in the textbook.

Legs spread apart appropriately, sword raised upward.

While taking that neat stance, the Saint suddenly hugged her from behind.

“Eek!”

Maria’s scream echoed through the training ground.

“Don’t be surprised. It’s not like I’m trying to do anything weird.”

The Saint’s voice was calm despite her reaction.

Maria felt embarrassed that she had made such a fuss because of that calmness.

The Saint overlapped his arms with hers from behind.

She unknowingly swallowed as she felt the firm sensation coming from her back.

“Swords, axes, and spears. These are just blades.”

A soft, gentle voice flowed from her back into her ear.

“They’re not very dangerous if there’s no will of the person wielding them.”

The Saint moved his arm, swinging the greatsword meaninglessly, and her arm moved with it.

-Whoosh.

The greatsword weakly cut through the air.

“What’s the most important thing in handling a weapon?”

At the Saint’s question, Maria answered as she had learned.

“Accurate posture and practical use.”

“Wrong. Unfortunately, that’s not the answer.”

Inho smiled. Maria felt her ears turn red.

“The answer is that you have to wield the weapon with will. Now, let’s look at the first stance.”

Inho moved Maria’s legs with his feet, then swung her arm with his arm.

-Whoosh.

The greatsword came down from top to bottom.

It was the most basic swordsmanship movement that Maria had shown Inho throughout their sparring.

“And was this the second stance?”

Inho moved her feet and arms again, creating her second stance.

-Whoosh.

The greatsword, raised diagonally, was slashed from left to right.

“The textbook said this was a continuous movement, right?”

Maria nodded at Inho’s question.

“The textbook calls it a continuous attack, but it looked like separate movements when Sister Maria was performing it.”

“That’s because I lack skill…”

“Now, take the strength out of your body.”

Inho cut off Maria’s words.

When Maria took the strength out of her body, Inho moved her, moving her arms and legs.

Maria’s legs moved as if gliding across the training ground, and the arm holding the sword was swung in all directions.

But that appearance was not a haphazard slashing.

Each movement was accurate, and its sharpness was indescribable.

“So, how is it? Is it a little different?”

“Saint? What was that just now…”

Inho said, separating his body from hers. Maria hurriedly turned to look at him.

Inho smiled and took the greatsword from Maria.

“The swordsmanship here seems to emphasize efficiency. Accurate and clean movements. At first glance, it may seem reasonable… but I think differently.”

Inho, distancing himself from Maria, swung the greatsword a few times as if loosening up, then took a stance.

“What must come before efficiency is the will of the one wielding the sword.”

Inho begins to swing his sword.

“The mindset that I must eliminate the person in front of me… creates this kind of sword path.”

A ferocious and powerful strike like the forefoot of a beast appears.

“Or perhaps you might feel like suppressing your opponent through gentleness?”

Suddenly, the greatsword dances like flowing water.

“…”

Maria had the illusion that all the light in the world was shining on him.

No, it wasn’t an illusion. The Saint was shining.

‘Ah… I’m spending time with someone like this right now.’

Maria felt tears welling up in her eyes at the emotion that welled up from deep within her chest.

While Maria was staring blankly at Inho, Inho, having finished his sword dance, handed her the sword.

“Sister Maria. Blades are not moved by the hand of the wielder. They are moved by the heart of the wielder.”

The Saint was saying cryptic words.

Maria nodded mechanically.

She wasn’t sure, but she felt like she had grasped some kind of clue.

And in fact, she didn’t care.

-Thump, thump.

And because her heart was pounding at the warmth that remained on her hand, as if she was still embracing him.