Chapter 12
The sword the princess showed me — she said it belonged to a dear friend of hers.
And I knew that sword.
Or rather, I knew the one who wielded it.
“That nameless masked swordsman… right?”
A strange figure, wrapped completely from head to toe, with no visible face, no voice — not even a hint of gender.
In the game, he wasn’t quite on Erich’s level in terms of popularity, but among players who valued efficiency, he was still considered a solid 1.5-tier pick.
What made him stand out, though, was that his character data — background, lore, dialogue — were completely blank.
People even joked the developers must have accidentally deleted his file.
But the devs insisted: “There’s no problem.”
So it was intentional.
And now, here it was again — the very same sword from his illustration, gleaming in front of me.
‘No mistake. That’s the one.’
Then, a sudden thought struck.
Could it be…?
No, wait. Don’t jump to conclusions.
Unfortunately, I never got to know much about the masked swordsman. He wasn’t one of my favorites — otherwise, I would’ve torn the entire game apart to uncover his secret.
Still, my instincts were screaming now.
The princess’s sudden request to have me personally instruct her — that had felt odd from the start.
Sure, in the game there was a “training support” mechanic, but here, there had to be another reason.
And in this world, I’d learned some new things.
The Seventh Princess, Edelweiss Trichia, was an outstanding student at the academy.
She hid her identity, studied diligently, and worked hard to honor the Empire and her family.
Hardly anyone even knew her face.
And she owns the exact same sword as that masked character…?
I let out a dry laugh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
So that’s how it is, huh.
These insane developers — were they planning to keep this twist secret the entire time?
Not even a hint? Not a single breadcrumb?
Maybe they forgot about it themselves.
But the more I thought about it, the clearer it became.
The masked swordsman and the Seventh Princess, Edelweiss Trikia, are one and the same.
Not one hundred percent certain — but I’d soon find out.
I had my ways.
“…Instructor?”
“Ah, forgive me, Your Highness. The sword is simply… magnificent.”
“I thought you favored the axe. You don’t seem the type to be charmed by swords.”
Even as she said it, the princess’s smile betrayed her delight at my praise.
She wore her emotions plainly — lively, expressive, radiant.
Nothing at all like the cold, voiceless masked swordsman.
“Then, I’ll just show you some basic forms. Is that all right?”
And the moment she gripped her sword and took her stance—
‘…There it is.’
Deus knew at once — his prediction was right.
[Data Access: Character Info]
Name: Edelweiss Trichia (Rank B)
Traits: Steel-like Duty, Romantic Idealist, Diligent Worker, Lightning Strike, Disguise
Growth Potential: Developing, but slow
The moment she grasped her sword, her data changed.
New traits had appeared — all identical to the masked swordsman’s.
So it was true.
A hum filled the air as her sword cut through it.
Even without space for grand maneuvers, her technique was sharp, precise, and beautiful.
A little more refinement, and she might rival Erich someday.
“Incredible. She’s a must-train. No question.”
To think that the hidden story I’d missed — this was it.
Why had she fought while concealing her identity?
Why had she kept her true self secret even after proving her strength?
I wanted to know. I needed to know.
If only they hadn’t nerfed her… I’d have sworn loyalty for life.
When the princess finished, she exhaled softly, sheathing her sword, and turned toward me.
Her eyes brimmed with expectation and a hint of worry.
“How was it, Instructor?”
“I see now why the Headmaster urged me to consider your request, Your Highness.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Even from that brief display — your form is disciplined and your technique, remarkable.”
If she could focus entirely on growth, without hiding behind a mask, how far could she go?
That question alone was enough to make my blood stir.
Even if I’d long stopped thinking of this world as a game, the veteran player in me couldn’t resist.
I’d seen something new — something I’d missed before.
And there’s no way I could just ignore that.
“Though I wield an axe, not a sword… Your talent makes me want to teach you all I know.”
“You’re not just flattering me because I’m royalty, are you?”
“If I were, would I have refused your first request?”
She laughed — relieved, perhaps, or simply amused.
It was a good thing this was her second attempt at asking.
Her first offer, I’d declined — too much obligation, too much risk of favoritism.
But now, she came to me asking, not commanding.
That shifted the balance.
Now, I had leverage.
“Then you’ll accept my request this time?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll do my utmost to help you reach the level you seek.”
“Good. Then I look forward to working with you, Instructor Deus.”
She extended her hand, and I took it in a firm shake—
“Y-you insolent fool! How dare you seize Her Highness’s hand like that! You should be kissing it!”
The guard’s outrage echoed through the hall as the princess hurried to calm him down.
I sighed inwardly.
Sometimes… life here is just exhausting.
Later that evening — the empty training hall.
Uriel swung her sword, again and again.
The sound of steel slicing the air filled the vast space.
But her skill — it wasn’t improving.
Her peers, even those who practiced half as much, were surpassing her.
Her grades were slipping toward academic warning.
Each day felt like a countdown.
She prayed once — to a god she didn’t even believe in.
No answer ever came.
Just another identical tomorrow.
Another failure.
Another piece of her heart sinking into the dark.
“You’re an instructor, aren’t you?”
Those words, spoken by the man who’d helped her one day, lingered.
“A proper instructor doesn’t just look after the prodigies at the front. He keeps an eye on the ones falling behind too.”
Their first meeting had been disastrous.
Uriel had dared to question the judgment of a man who had survived real battle — a hero in his own right.
She’d assumed he hated her for it.
But Deus, the instructor, wasn’t like she’d imagined.
Now, she replayed their training in her mind, tracing every motion, every path of his blade.
She had to find what she was missing.
“If you can even roughly guess what you lack — that’s your first step.”
“I want an answer that brings real, immediate change.”
It had seemed a strange assignment, but she took it to heart.
Maybe the answer wasn’t far off.
After all, just one session with him had shattered her stagnation.
What am I missing?
It wasn’t just talent.
He saw something she couldn’t.
She needed to know. To prove herself.
This was her first step toward that proof.
Her only chance.
A single failure, and she’d sink for good.
Clap, clap.
“Impressive. You’re working hard.”
The sudden voice startled her. She turned, eyes wide.
She hadn’t even noticed anyone enter.
“…You’re—”
Erich Lanstat.
The prodigy of the academy.
Heir to one of the Six Great Houses.
Perfect in every way.
The kind of person who drew everyone’s attention — teachers, nobles, even other students vying for his favor.
Everything Uriel was not.
A fallen house, no talent, no prestige.
Just standing near him would make other students glare daggers.
“My apologies,” he said. “I was watching without permission.”
“It’s fine, Lord Erich. It’s not anything impressive — and it’s not even mine.”
He frowned slightly.
“Can I ask something?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you speaking so formally? We’re both students.”
She nodded simply.
“Because it’s safer that way.”
He blinked. “Safer?”
“Erich Lanstat — the top student of Theresa Academy. I, on the other hand, am the bottom-ranked student of a ruined family.”
She smiled faintly.
“There are plenty who’d hate seeing me speak casually to you.”
No exaggeration. Just fact.
Erich scratched his head awkwardly.
“Then… I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”
To her surprise, he actually meant it.
For someone of his stature, that kind of humility was rare.
She found herself thinking — at least he’s not arrogant.
“But still,” he added, “your sword just now — that was amazing. For a moment, I actually wanted to spar with you.”
A duel?
Uriel almost laughed.
The last duel she’d fought had ended with her getting slapped — but also with her gaining Deus’s respect and a new chance.
“I told you — that form isn’t mine. It’s something Instructor Deus showed me—”
“Then let’s spar right now.”
“Wait, what?”
“Right now. Let’s have a duel.”
Surely she’d misheard.
“The sword form your instructor taught you — I have to see it. Instructor Deus uses axes, right?”
“Yes… but he said once you hold a sword, you can see differently.”
That only made Erich’s excitement flare brighter.
“You’re kidding. He said that? Oh, I have to try this.”
To him, Deus was a living legend — someone he admired deeply.
The thought that Deus had personally shown a student a sword technique was too much to resist.
Uriel hesitated.
But then she remembered Deus’s words — and how understanding had come only through collision, through clashing steel.
Maybe that was what she needed again.
And who better to clash with than the academy’s best?
“…All right,” she said quietly. “Let’s have a quick match.”
“Thank you! Hahaha, this is going to be great. The instructor’s sword technique, huh? I can’t wait to see it.”
He grinned like a child given a new toy.
Uriel exhaled, steadying her grip on the sword.
And as their blades rose under the quiet moonlight—
The air trembled once more.
