Chapter 67
How to Teach the Pope to Use a Sword
Life in the palace was perfect—except for a small… no, rather large, discomfort in my heart.
Without even asking, I was provided with food and clothes. The pain in my leg had long since been healed by the expensive potions they supplied.
So, to loosen up my body a bit, I woke up early at dawn and picked up the wooden sword. It was the sword the Pope had gifted me, and I planned to swing it lightly in the temple’s backyard to work up a bit of sweat.
As soon as I made up my mind, I stepped into the backyard and raised the sword straight. It was usually quiet there, but at this hour, no one was around, so I could swing freely without any worry.
Whoosh—
Even for a wooden sword, the sound of slicing through the air was surprisingly sharp. The sensation transmitted to my hands was pleasant, making my entire body feel vividly awakened.
I continued swinging to wake up the sluggish muscles dulled by a few days of rest.
Whoosh—swoosh—
Once vertically, once horizontally, then diagonally while twisting my body. The crisp morning air cooled my sweat. I focused solely on the sword, paying no attention to my surroundings.
Clap, clap, clap. The sound of applause reached me precisely when I had swung the sword fifty-two times.
“Your Holiness…? How long have you been watching?”
Turning my head at the sound, I saw the Pope standing there. When I asked how long he had been there, he grinned and replied:
“I followed you when you went to the backyard. I’ve been watching almost from the beginning. Your concentration is incredible. You didn’t even notice me coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I wasn’t expecting an apology. On the contrary,” he said, tucking his cream-colored hair behind his ear. “Watching you so absorbed in one thing—it was truly magnificent.”
I was used to receiving such compliments. Everyone who saw me swing a sword admired it without fail. But the Pope’s praise felt… slightly ticklish somehow.
Unable to respond, I looked away, and he smiled, stepping closer.
“Do you know something?”
“…?”
“When you swing the sword diagonally, I can’t help but think of a silver butterfly. Your hair flows widely, glinting in the light, resembling the wings of a butterfly.”
The Pope carefully took a strand of my hair in his hand. Bathed in the dawn light, he gently kissed it, handling it as if it were something sacred.
“You know how when you see a butterfly on a flower, you worry it might fly away and can’t touch it, just watching anxiously?”
“Is that so? I usually just caught the butterfly,” I replied.
“I couldn’t—it was too slow for me. So I watched you anxiously, afraid that, like a butterfly, you’d vanish if I approached too boldly.”
This man… his words were smooth. I hadn’t realized it at first, but the more we spoke, the more I noticed how skillfully he spoke. Ernant was eloquent too, but it was different. If Ernant excelled at teasing, this man specialized in flattery.
Not knowing how to respond to such polished flattery, I stood there blankly. Then he suddenly changed the topic.
“May I try holding the sword as well?”
“Of course. Isn’t it the sword Your Holiness gave me in the first place?”
“Thank you. I just wanted to try swinging it.”
I handed him the wooden sword willingly. It wouldn’t matter if someone saw the Pope holding a weapon—it wasn’t a real sword anyway.
He grasped the sword with both hands, but the sight was… rather awkward. It reminded me of the first time I held a sword at six years old—it wasn’t held like that back then either.
“You should straighten your waist more.”
Unable to help myself, I placed my hands on his waist to adjust his posture. He straightened immediately, diligently following my guidance, but it still looked awkward.
“Lower your arms slightly. If you raise them too high, they block your vision, and you won’t be able to see your opponent.”
“Like this?”
“…No, now they’re too low. Wait, let me adjust it from behind myself.”
I stepped behind him, embracing him gently to correct his stance. I lifted his arms to a better position, straightened his slightly bent waist, and narrowed his stance.
I often taught children swordsmanship this way, so I didn’t find it embarrassing. But it seemed slightly unfamiliar to him.
“…It feels strange having you adjust my posture from behind.”
“Eh? Oh, I see. I apologize. When I teach young knights, I usually adjust their posture like this. I’ve done it so often that I did it unconsciously… sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean it negatively. Please continue.”
Relieved that he didn’t mind, I continued adjusting his posture from behind. His back twitched slightly whenever my body touched him, so I tried to avoid contact. The Pope seemed very sensitive to physical touch, probably because he had little experience with it.
While adjusting him, he suddenly shared intriguing news.
“I’ve found someone who can remove that ability-sealing item around your neck.”
“You’ve found them? Really?”
The item sealed my ability, and to remove it, I needed the help of someone with a special ability.
“Someone with the ability to ‘dispel’ the seal?” I asked.
“Yes.”
The seal contained a type of curse that suppressed my ability. To remove it, one needed a ‘curse-dispelling’ ability… in other words, the power of a Haiju. The Pope had miraculously located such an awakened individual.
I thanked him without hesitation.
“Finally, I can rid myself of this cursed thing. Truly, thank you, Your Holiness.”
“Not at all. I would do anything for you. I just worry… if you regain your ability, you might leave me like a butterfly…”
I laughed lightly at his jest.
“I’ll visit you often, even after I return to the knights.”
“…I see.”
He gave me a slightly bitter glance. I worried I’d said something wrong but realized nothing was amiss. Soon, he brightened and asked:
“So, what do you think of my posture? Do I have potential?”
“…Yes. With a bit of practice…”
I felt a tickle in my nose trying to lie.
After much deliberation, Ernant chose to return to the palace. The rescue of Yulia had been entrusted to the royal guard, so he didn’t need to wait on the island. More importantly, leaving the emperor’s palace unattended was unadvisable.
Even after being away briefly, a mountain of work had piled up, which he quietly handled.
An unwelcome guest arrived just as he had become extremely busy.
“Your Majesty, Duke Habicht requests an audience. How shall we respond?”
Ernant sighed.
“So, he’s finally come.”
“Shall I tell him to leave?”
“No.”
Rubbing his tired eyes, Ernant stood.
“If he were obedient enough to leave quietly, he wouldn’t be so annoying.”
“Then…?”
“Bring him to the Second Audience Chamber. We’ll talk there.”
Unlike the First Audience Chamber, the Second was for private meetings—used when they needed to discuss matters unsuitable in front of other ministers. Ernant sensed Martin had a very private matter to discuss.
He waited quietly in the chamber until the aide escorted Martin inside. After the staff left, leaving only the two of them, Ernant finally spoke.
“It’s been years since you came to me first.”
