episode_0127

It was nearly half an hour later when Luciella, who had been swinging her sword with an eerie intensity, finally sheathed her blade and caught her breath.

“Hah… hah… Hm?”

Only then did she seem to notice me, freezing stiff as she turned her gaze in my direction.

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t mind me—keep doing what you were doing.”

I had expected her to notice me within minutes at most, if not sooner. But Luciella’s focus was beyond what I’d anticipated. There was something almost unsettling—no, frightening—about the way she wielded her blade in silence without a single word.

Which is exactly why I hadn’t carelessly approached her earlier.

The last thing I wanted was to meet such a pointless end—getting cut down by a Luciella who hadn’t even noticed me before I could speak.

“Ah, my apologies. What brings you here—”

“I have a favor to ask. And hey, why don’t we drop the formalities?”

“But…”

“There’s a lot I’ll need to talk to you about going forward, and if I have to keep hearing you speak so respectfully, it’s going to grate on my nerves.”

Unlike Cecillia, who had always used formal speech with all of us, Luciella had never really engaged in much conversation before. So hearing her suddenly address me so politely in this loop felt… off.

It wasn’t inedible, but it was like forcing together two foods that just didn’t belong on the same plate.

“Are you… truly alright with this…?”

“I said it’s fine. Besides, once you hear what I’m going to ask you to do, you’ll probably drop the honorifics on your own.”

“…Understood.”

Luciella gave a small nod.

“Yeah, that’s better. Cecillia’s enough for all the formal speech I can tolerate.”

“So, Eric, what brings you here?”

“Right—about that favor I mentioned. But more importantly, how long have you been training like this?”

“I started right after my last lecture ended, so… about six hours now.”

“Six hou—never mind that. How long have you been doing this brute-force swordsmanship training?”

“Ever since you promised to introduce me to a master. I don’t know who this person is, but it would shame both you and them if I showed them anything less than my best.”

“Uh…”

Seeing her say this so calmly left me slightly dumbfounded. I knew she had always been a training fanatic, but this was excessive even for her.

“Forget about that for now. There’s something I need your help with.”

“My help?”

“Yeah. So, I’m thinking you—”

Just as I was about to explain, my gaze was stolen by the sword in her hand.

“…What is that?”

“Hm? It’s a training sword, obviously. For cadet drills.”

“You call that a sword?”

“I do.”

As she casually swung it, I stepped closer.

“Let me see that for a second.”

Meeting no resistance, I took the sword and inspected it closely—and couldn’t help but sigh.

“You’ve been training for hours with this piece of junk?”

“Junk?”

“You can’t tell?”

The sword Luciella had been using was so worn down that it barely qualified as a blade anymore—more like a blunt club. Even the grip had lost most of its leather wrapping, exposing the bare metal underneath.

Sure, it was just student equipment, and given how many trainees used them, some neglect was understandable. But this was beyond excessive—even for training gear.

“This isn’t even worth calling a sword. You honestly think you could cut down even training dummies with this?”

“It has a blade and a hilt, and I can swing it. While it isn’t ideal, this is all that’s available in this training yard.”

“Tch.”

I glared at her.

“And you just accept this? You’re something else. Ever thought of demanding a better sword?”

“I’ve asked a few times. But the budget allocated to Training Yard 7 can’t afford anything beyond this. The other commoner-born trainees are in the same position. None of them complain—why should I?”

“Yeah… I guess.”

I understood her reasoning—this was Luciella, after all. She probably already believed that simply being under Elria and Chris’s protection was more than enough goodwill extended towards her.

“Besides, a sword like this isn’t entirely useless. You can’t always fight with high-quality weapons in real battles. And if you break one, at least replacements are easy to come by.”

“That’s because they gave you brittle junk in the first place.”

Looking at the fragments of broken swords scattered at her feet, I sighed again. For all her stubbornness, this was pushing it too far.

“Give me one. Any one—preferably one of the ones you claim are fine. And hold another properly.”

“What are you planning?”

“You’ll see. Just hand it over.”

Taking the “intact” sword she gave me, I told her to grip another one properly.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Proving why you need a new sword. Just stay still.”

I’m not particularly skilled with swords. At best, my body’s undergone basic training—far weaker compared to the other four in the hero party. If anything, I’d barely match an average trainee from another academy.

Besides, having relied on elixirs and artifacts to shore up my combat deficiencies, I almost never wielded a sword purely with raw strength.

Yet, without hesitation, I swung.

—CRACK!

The sound of the clash was pitiful—and with it, the blade Luciella held split cleanly in half.

“Huh. Broke cleaner than I expected.”

“…”

“See? Just a cheap trick. Anyone could tell where this thing was weakest.”

All I’d done was strike the weakest part of her blade with the stronger edge of mine. Under normal circumstances, identifying a sword’s weak point just by looking is borderline impossible—unless the blade is exceptionally shoddy.

And yet, even I—a complete amateur—could spot the flaws in the sword Luciella had been using.

“If I can break it this easily, what’s the point of you treating it like some irreplaceable treasure? It’s obvious you’ve been training the exact opposite way, right?”

“Correct.”

To my sarcasm, Luciella answered seriously.

“If a blade has weaknesses, you simply minimize the force put on them. That’s all.”

“That’s all? You’re really—”

“Is there a problem?”

Without reaction, she set the shattered sword aside and picked up yet another from the rack. Striking without exploiting weaknesses—distributing force to prevent breakage—was obviously far harder than just swinging recklessly.

Yet she did it without issue, proving just how much effort she had poured into this.

“You’re really…”

Now I understood why, in past loops, she hadn’t believed me.

When you’ve reached a skill level attained through sheer effort, hearing some powerless bystander preach about how to really grow stronger would grate on anyone.

If Elria trusted her talent, Cecillia her convictions, and Chris his experience, then Luciella—she trusted her effort.

“Pathetic.”

“What is?”

“Nothing. Anyway, dealing with your busted swords comes first. Otherwise, most of my advice won’t even matter.”

“This sword is enough for me.”

“What you should be learning isn’t how to survive with trash—it’s how to overwhelm opponents with the best tools possible. A hero stuck using garbage has already lost. Sacred swords don’t break—your training’s pointless.”

Luciella didn’t argue, quietly setting down her current sword.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere with swords that aren’t garbage. Ideally Training Yard 1—there’s enough high-grade blades lying around to trip over.”

Once she gets her Sacred Sword, weapon worries vanish—but she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Her swordsmanship’s already renowned, and if she gains a proper master, her skill will skyrocket.

“I don’t need an exceptional sword. Yards 4 or 5 would suffice.”

“No.”

“The Student Council President has already done more than enough for me—extending training hours, removing discriminatory hurdles against commoners. The others help me study so I won’t fall behind. I can’t trouble them further.”

“So?”

“None of them are actually helping you grow right now. Look, trash is trash. You’re supposed to become the hero, remember?”

“What…?!”