Chapter 4
“Wow, we’re meeting again this year. Have you been well?”
“…Happy birthday.”
“Happy birthday!”
“I just blew out the candles and made a wish. I did it properly this time. Before a mean person like you came and blew them out.”
“Ahem, hmm. Is it the same wish as last year?”
“Yes.”
The young girl’s bright smiling face looked exactly the same as last year.
And not just that—many things remained unchanged.
Countless scars.
Old, stained clothes worn for so long they were ragged—every shabby little thing.
“Well… but what can you do? The heavens don’t grant wishes so easily. Mine’s never come true, not even once.”
Pecenic said rather bitterly, as if speaking for the heavens to hear.
“But… I hope your wish comes true.”
He smiled as he wished her good luck. His smile looked painfully bitter.
A year passed once more.
Erica turned nine years old.
That year, there was no birthday party for Pecenic.
Instead, he came to the Herace Count’s estate dressed like a traveler.
“Oh, you should at least stay for a meal.”
“Farewells are better short.”
He went around in person to say goodbye to his closest comrades from the knight order, and the last stop was the Herace estate.
The imperial social scene had been buzzing with rumors.
“Sir Pecenic has relinquished the glory of Teneahar.”
Even the gossipers in the streets were shocked and talking.
“You look bored. That’s unlike you—you were always cheerful.”
“Well, all glory comes to an end eventually.”
“What made you so disillusioned?”
“My blade has grown dull. I thought a younger sword should be guarding the Celestial Fortress.”
“You’re not going to tell the truth, are you.”
Pecenic had retired from the Celestial Fortress Knight Order.
He was one of the few Swordmasters on the entire continent.
To claim his blade had dulled was a ridiculous excuse—and it wouldn’t convince Count Herace, who had crossed swords with him countless times.
Pecenic even gave up his noble title without hesitation. With no family, there was nothing to hold him back from true freedom.
“So what will you do now?”
“Why do people ask so many questions when someone just wants to go live quietly? Move aside, I’m leaving.”
“Can’t you at least say where you’re going?”
“I told you—I’m going home. Somewhere in the south.”
“The southern empire is vast and far. Even the closest part takes at least a month on horseback.”
“I haven’t decided yet. Maybe the Maritime Federation, or Dangther. But I suppose I’ll start by seeing the ocean.”
Pecenic pulled down the wide brim of his hat and tightened his long brown robe.
The peasant clothes didn’t feel awkward. He planned to wear them to the point of exhaustion, and they already felt tailored to him.
There would be no more need for the prestigious Teneahar uniform.
“I’d give you some traveling money, but you’re so wealthy that I’ve got nothing to offer.”
“If it’s a farewell gift, I already stole one from your garden earlier.”
“Hm?”
“I’m sure it’s something insignificant and worthless to this estate, so I’ll just take it with me.”
“…Well, alright then. If there’s something you wanted, I’m glad.”
Pecenic had never wanted the scruffy little maid.
But he had made up his mind to take her out of this estate, so he didn’t deny it.
He climbed into the carriage.
The Count and Countess of Herace saw him off.
“Farewell. I hope we meet again someday.”
“Sure. If I come across a story so outrageously fun I can’t keep it to myself, I’ll return to tell you.”
“You might be back very soon, then.”
Pecenic let out a laugh, and the driver cracked the whip.
At last, the carriage departed.
A line of wagons loaded with luggage followed behind.
In the second wagon, a small girl peeked out from under a pile of straw.
Her skin was pale, her face smudged with ash.
It was Erica.
“Do you still want to leave the estate?”
“Yes.”
“Then will you come with me?”
“Yes.”
She hadn’t asked where they were going.
Afraid he might change his mind, she quickly ran to the wagon he had gestured toward and hid inside.
And soon after, something unbelievable happened.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop…
They were really leaving the estate. For real.
It felt like a dream.
Watching the grand mansion fade into the distance, Erica blinked in disbelief.
Her whole body had gone stiff.
It was her first time in a carriage, and she thought crouching in the luggage space was a normal way to ride.
After a long while, the carriage stopped.
“Take my hand and come over here.”
Only when she took Pecenic’s hand and climbed out of the luggage space did she realize—it wasn’t meant for people to ride in.
Inside the cozy cabin, the girl sat carefully across from him.
Though there was plenty of room, she hunched her shoulders to take up as little space as possible.
The seats were plush for long-distance travel, but she couldn’t feel comfortable.
Would she really no longer be beaten by the Countess? No longer tormented by the estate’s servants?
But what would her life be like now?
How far would he take her? Where would he drop her off?
As Erica nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Pecenic spoke up.
“You don’t have to be so tense. You’re not a maid anymore.”
“…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say, Actually, I was never a maid to begin with.
If he found out she was an illegitimate child of Count Herace, he might be so shocked he’d throw her out.
So she kept that truth to herself and let the misunderstanding stand.
“I brought you along, but I don’t plan to take you in as my daughter.”
“…!”
At the word daughter, Erica flailed her hands in panic.
“If you give me chores, I’ll work hard. I’m fine with any kind of labor.”
“I didn’t bring you to make you a servant.”
“T-then why…?”
Pecenic crossed his legs and rested his chin by the window.
His gaze swept over Erica indifferently.
Thin, but strong bones. Even at a glance, her frame was well-balanced.
“I think I’ll get bored. So I figured I’d try raising a disciple.”
“Pardon…?”
Erica looked around, startled. But there was no one else in the carriage.
Then that disciple—he meant her?
“M-me? Me??”
Pecenic was a knight.
Could he mean he’d teach her the sword?
Erica stared at her trembling hands.
“You’re going to teach me swordsmanship?”
She had no idea, but Pecenic was one of the most renowned names in Teneahar.
He was the sword guarding the imperial heir of the great Thousand-Year Empire, and one of the continent’s few Swordmasters.
Who in their right mind would turn down the chance to be trained by him?
“Is that a look of disapproval?”
“No! This is my excited face—I want to do it!”
Erica clenched her tiny fists. They were no more than little chick wings.
“Good. I like the fire in your eyes.”
Her fists were small, but for a powerless maid who’d endured abuse at the estate, the spirit she showed was impressive.
She must’ve been born with it.
Pecenic suddenly wondered what kind of people her parents were.
But he didn’t ask. Any parent who’d sold a child as a maid to a noble house couldn’t be worth knowing.
“From now on, call me Master.”
“Master!”
“…You’re not shy at all, huh?”
“Is there something to be shy about?”
“…Normally, people are so overwhelmed when they become my disciple that they stammer and blush just to say ‘Master.’”
“…”
Erica fidgeted with her fingers.
She lowered her gaze, then peeked up at him with a glance.
“M… M…”
“…”
“M… M… Master!”
“…”
She’d tried so hard to say it shyly, just like he explained.
But Pecenic was so taken aback by her sudden performance that he simply burst out laughing.
