Chapter 13
I held my sword and looked straight at Erich, who stood before me.
To be more precise — it was Erich unlike his usual self, visibly worked up, his composure nowhere to be found.
“What’s gotten into him?”
From what I knew, Erich was always polite and composed — a model student.
Not only was he skilled, but also nearly perfect in every way — a textbook example of what a hero-in-training should be.
He wasn’t called a future hero just because of his noble lineage; it was because he truly lived up to the title.
And yet, the boy standing in front of me now looked no different from an overexcited child — flushed, restless, his usual calm replaced with barely restrained energy.
“We’re starting right away, right? Yeah? We are, aren’t we?”
“Y-yes, Sir Erich. I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Now, show me. The sword form the instructor taught you — I’m dying to see it.”
Had someone put something in his lunch?
Couldn’t be. I was fine.
I steadied my breath and began the sword form exactly as Deus had shown me.
After hundreds of repetitions on my own, there was no hesitation left — the flow of motion came naturally now.
Even if my breathing wasn’t perfect, my sword’s movement was nearly flawless.
I could see every stance and every arc of the blade even with my eyes closed.
Clang—! Cling!
Erich didn’t counter. He focused on defense, blocking my strikes.
“Yes, this is definitely the form Deus taught her… but something’s missing.”
He had once sparred with Deus — well, been beaten senseless by him, to be precise — and he’d never forgotten that day.
The moment he faced him, that suffocating pressure, that gaze that stripped him bare, reading his every move before he made it.
It wasn’t a fight. It was domination.
A fortress that could never be scaled, a hammer that shattered everything in its path.
That was Deus.
And this — this was not that.
Of course not. The girl before him wasn’t Deus. She was just a student tracing the path of his sword.
“Still… this sword form alone is incredible. Fluid, fast, and hidden within it — those deadly, knife-like strikes.”
If the one before him were Deus, he’d already be flat on the ground again, gasping for breath.
Clang—! Clang!
After several more exchanges, they stepped back simultaneously, as if by unspoken agreement.
“Impressive. So this is what the instructor showed you?”
“Yes.”
“Then he must think quite highly of you, Uriel. I’m jealous. Really, I am.”
Pure, playful envy colored his tone — and Uriel couldn’t help but laugh softly.
Of all people, Erich — the one everyone admired, the one she admired — was jealous of her?
“The instructor said there’s something hidden in that form, didn’t he?”
“Yes. It’s only speculation, but I think so.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he’s not the type to teach something like this without a reason.”
Erich nodded. “True enough.”
“Let’s go again. I don’t fully get it yet, but if we keep at it, maybe we’ll figure out what he was trying to say.”
“You sound more passionate than I am, Sir Erich.”
“I never told you? I admire Deus more than anyone else in the world.”
That was strange.
Deus was a commoner. Erich was a noble — not just any noble, but one of the Empire’s six White Nobles.
A highborn youth claiming to admire a commoner… it almost sounded absurd.
“You… admire Instructor Deus?”
“Yeah. Why? Surprised a noble can look up to a commoner?”
“No… just that you’re… like me, I suppose.”
Or maybe not. Maybe I’m just a latecomer, finally realizing what you already knew.
Smiling faintly, Uriel raised her sword again — and together, they resumed tracing Deus’s form.
The next day.
By the time they dissected every nuance of that sword form — a hundred and fifty-six repetitions later —
“…Wait.”
Uriel halted. Erich lowered his sword, waiting.
“I think… I see it now. What Instructor Deus wanted us to understand.”
“Yeah? Funny, I was thinking the same thing just a moment ago. Let’s compare notes.”
They sat cross-legged on the training floor, like old comrades puzzling over a riddle.
“The form is definitely meant to teach something,” Erich began.
“Yes. And while I mimicked it, I felt like… something was missing. Like there was a void in it.”
“Not effort. Not talent. If it were about that, he wouldn’t have asked for an immediate answer.”
“I agree. He wanted something concrete — something we could apply right away.”
It was hard.
Trying to decipher the intent of someone leagues above you was no easy task.
But it was fascinating — thrilling, even.
“So, what he wanted to show us is speed… and sharpness.”
“You think he meant for us to refine our footwork and breathing?”
“Maybe. Or maybe not.”
“Right… if it were just that, it wouldn’t feel so empty.”
Then there was only one possibility left.
“Maybe he meant for us to change weapons.”
“Or to add something to what we already have.”
Not just swordsmanship. Something else alongside it.
The same answer, spoken in different words — which only meant one thing:
they were finally getting close to Deus’s intended lesson.
“Let’s call it a day. We’ve been at this for nearly twenty-four hours straight.”
“Right. I even skipped class today.”
“…You what?”
Skipping lessons at the Imperial Academy — especially this one — was no small offense.
Erich just laughed. “But come on, how could I focus on class after seeing Deus’s form?”
“Why go that far? It’s not like he gave you personal instruction like he did with me.”
“Oh, that?” He smiled.
“I grew up hearing about his exploits — his heroics on the battlefield. And I wanted to be just like him.”
“Most people call those stories lies, or political flattery.”
“Those are the people who’ve never faced him. Idiots, the lot of them.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. After sparring with Deus herself, Uriel had a newfound respect too — mixed with lingering trauma.
“What about those girls from earlier?” she asked.
“Ah.”
During their practice, a group of female students had interrupted — nobles, of course, fawning over Erich, glaring daggers at Uriel.
To them, a fallen noble sparring with their idol was a provocation.
Erich’s response?
He’d turned and roared at them to get out.
“Wasn’t that a bit harsh?”
“They deserved it. It was their fault for interrupting.”
“They looked terrified…”
“Better terrified than stupid,” he muttered, shrugging.
Then, like the lunatic he was, he stood and said, nagging. One last spar before we rest.”
“…You finished the assignment already?”
That was odd.
I could’ve sworn I gave them plenty of time.
After all, Teresa Academy isn’t some basic military school — it’s the Imperial Officer’s Academy.
Students here juggle a hundred lessons — tactics, history, spell theory — on top of combat training.
Especially for someone like Uriel, whose practical skills were… let’s just say, developing.
That’s why I’d given her until the weekend. I didn’t want her failing other classes because of me.
“Sir, yes, I finished it.”
There were still two days until the deadline. She stood before me, exhausted but proud.
“I’m pretty sure I said by the weekend.”
“You did.”
“And I remember you complaining about other assignments.”
“Well, I realized your task should take priority. So I finished it first.”
…This girl’s going to give me an ulcer.
Before I could scold her, I noticed the person beside her — and nearly groaned.
“…And what’s he doing here.”
Uriel wasn’t alone. Standing next to her, eyes practically glowing, was none other than Erich.
“An honor to see you again, Instructor Deus!”
You’d think we hadn’t met in months.
“I helped Uriel with the assignment you gave her!”
“You did?”
I turned to Uriel. She nodded.
“It was hard to fully analyze your sword form alone. Erich offered to help, and… it was the right choice.”
“Hm.”
Not a bad call, actually.
Having a sparring partner helps — even if I’d planned to fill that role myself.
But perhaps this was better.
At her level, it might be easier to learn with someone closer to her — someone still human.
“So then,” I asked, “what did you two conclude?”
They smiled, and without a word, both drew their swords.
Before I could ask what they were doing, Uriel shifted her grip — holding two blades, one in each hand.
“This,” she said, “is our answer to your assignment.”
Her stance was awkward, full of openings — but the idea was correct.
“Why this answer?”
“You told me to find something that brings an immediate, objective change — so it couldn’t be something vague like effort or talent.”
“Go on.”
“When we analyzed your sword form, we found that it focused on overwhelming speed — and between those movements, there were strikes sharp enough to kill in one blow.”
She had reason to sound confident. They were close. Very close.
Two swords.
Dual blades — the path of the swift, the relentless, the merciless.
Most would think it’s all flash and speed, but the truth is darker: every motion should be aimed at the kill.
Unstable, risky — but with proper reinforcement, devastating.
Especially in this world, where mana strengthens the body.
“You’ve both worked hard.”
Uriel’s face lit up. Erich actually shouted, “Yes!”
But I wasn’t finished.
“However… that’s not the perfect answer.”
“What? There’s more?”
“Oh, there’s always more.”
They leaned forward eagerly.
And I said it.
“Magic.”
“…Excuse me?”
Uriel’s voice trembled.
A swordsman learning magic — it was unheard of, even absurd. Their disciplines were natural enemies.
But for her… it was necessary.
“Learn magic, Uriel.”
Her eyes widened — and in their reflection, I saw the spark of the same realization I once had long ago.
