Chapter 6
She didn’t even know what a mercenary was and was simply excited.
At the time, there was no one by her side to stop or warn her.
The Sword of the Empire, once known as Tenearha, becoming a mere mercenary?
A high-ranking noble joining a mercenary corps, something only commoners usually did?
Those were thoughts anyone might have, but Pechenik didn’t care, and Erika didn’t know enough to think that way.
The child was just thrilled to finally feel like she belonged somewhere.
After leaving the count’s estate, she’d been full of only positive feelings.
She didn’t even notice how hard her body was working.
“Doesn’t your ankle hurt?”
“I can even run now!”
“You’re adjusting quickly. We’ll stop by a blacksmith in the next village. Gotta double the weight of those iron rods.”
Building Erika’s strength was simple.
The thick iron cuffs on her wrists and ankles got heavier by the day.
Anyone who saw it would’ve screamed abuse, but Pechenik thought it was the best method.
Erika ate a lot. Then she ate more. And more again.
She didn’t put on much weight—because the basic strength training was intense.
She hadn’t even seen a real sword, let alone learned to wield one, but she faithfully did everything her master told her.
For example, when camping in the mountains—
Erika hung upside-down from a tall tree, dangling there.
“Use your core to pull yourself up. Don’t flap your arms.”
Pechenik yawned as he lay beside the campfire.
“Let’s do 500 reps before bed. Wake me when you’re done.”
“My head’s filling with blood…”
“Then lift your torso so it doesn’t. I tied your legs tight, so they won’t wobble.”
“If wolves come, you’ll save me, right?”
“That sounds fun. Want me to go lure some wild beasts?”
“…Master, you really are a terrible person.”
And so, Erika did her sit-ups, legs tied to the tall tree.
Sweat poured down like rain.
She’d spent months building strength and endurance—and the results were good.
Even the picky Pechenik nodded in satisfaction at her progress.
Even after Erika had become quite strong, Pechenik didn’t teach her the sword.
She only repeated barehanded combat movements hundreds, thousands of times.
Erika honestly found it boring.
No matter how hard she tried, her arms never grew thick and muscular like Pechenik’s.
“When will I become strong?”
“Huh?”
“My arms aren’t getting thicker. Look. They’re too skinny. Am I just… too slow?”
“No. You’re doing great.”
Pechenik ruffled Erika’s hair with a smile.
Though she hadn’t gained weight, her inner muscles were so solid that she already surpassed most adults.
Erika’s light and agile movements were a result of how Pechenik had trained her.
She was tough. And fast.
No doubt she’d been born with an extraordinary physical gift.
“Do you remember your parents’ faces?”
“Huh? P-Par-Parents?!”
“Yeah. Your parents. The ones who sold you to the count’s estate when you were no bigger than a rat dropping.”
“I… I don’t remember. I was really young…”
“I’d believe it if someone told me your dad was Tenearha.”
“Wh—Whaaa?!”
“I’m saying you were born with a lot of natural talent. Lucky me, picking up such a rare gem.”
It was a compliment, but Erika wanted to crawl into a hole.
She clenched her fists, glanced this way and that, unsure what to do.
Pechenik found that little head of hers amusing—it was hard to tell if this was the joy of teaching a disciple, or the joy of raising a daughter.
Pechenik and Erika traveled through many villages.
They developed a strong bond and exchanged a lot of knowledge.
She learned to read in their spare time.
“Chi… Cheese?”
“It’s romantic affair. That says ‘romantic affair.’”
“Romantic affair…”
Erika picked up quickly.
“Romantic affair… The nobles involved in the romantic affair tried to cover it up.”
She could suddenly read whole sentences, which surprised even Pechenik.
“Guess it’s better to show her real books than cheap newspapers.”
When they visited a major city, they even browsed a fancy shop called a bookstore.
“These are books.”
Erika only nodded.
She learned how to read, but didn’t particularly enjoy reading.
Because it wasn’t fun.
Pechenik always said carrying a poetry book in your bag was the true essence of romance, but Erika never listened.
Instead, she focused on Pechenik’s silly stories.
“There’s a place called the Lercancan Great Jungle. It’s made up of dozens of forests, and in the center, there’s a terrifying place called the Phantom Forest…”
Pechenik, being a former high noble, knew many things—and he was a chatterbox.
He shared generously with Erika.
Scratch, scratch—
He would draw on the dirt with a stick, and that became excellent visual aid.
“Look here. This is the temple’s crest, and if you add a shield design in the background, it becomes the Holy Knights’ insignia.”
“Are the Holy Knights as strong as Tenearha?”
“They’re powerful but limited. I’ve never really fought them, but I’d say they’re a tier below Tenearha. Still, you have to show them respect if you meet them.”
“How do I show respect?”
“Put your hands together like this, and say: ‘May the righteous justice of the gods dwell in the sword of good.’”
“‘May the righteous justice of the gods dwell in the sword of good.’”
She didn’t need to read books.
For Erika, her master was the book, the bookstore, and a greater library than the Celestial Grand Archive.
That was enough for her, every single day.
Erika thought she was living days more blessed than she deserved.
Sometimes, it was so overwhelming she teared up in secret.
One year after training began.
Erika held a sword for the first time.
It was just a wooden sword carved from a tree, but gripping that shabby weapon sent a thrill through her.
“I feel like a swordmaster already!”
“Don’t be silly. Watch me closely. Follow exactly.”
“Yes!”
Whoosh— A sudden gust of wind blew through, and that was it.
Pechenik stood still. Not a single motion.
To Erika, it looked like he hadn’t moved at all.
“Did you see it?”
“…?”
“Now copy it.”
“W-What part?”
“Just do what I did.”
“…Okay!”
Following his words, Erika stood still.
Silence—
Pechenik frowned. Even after a while, Erika hadn’t moved.
“What are you doing? Why’re you just standing there?”
“I’m doing what you did. Standing still.”
“….”
Shhh—
Only then did Pechenik move his sword—at a pace a hundred times slower than usual.
Swish—
“There. Got it?”
“Got it!”
“Do it 5,000 times.”
“Five thousand… times!”
After 5,000 repetitions, countless more movements followed.
Erika absorbed everything like a sponge. She took in the sword techniques as if they were her own.
Some days, they repeated the same drills. Other days, she learned new ones.
Back at the count’s estate, she had also been bruised and bled—but she’d gained nothing.
Now, it was different. Each wound and fall brought real growth.
Torn ligaments and dislocated shoulders were a regular thing during intense training, but just like the ground hardens after rain, she became stronger afterward.
One day passed, then another, and several months went by like that.
Erika’s sword became faster and faster.
By the time she could strike away falling leaves Pechenik tossed at her as a joke—
They visited a blacksmith’s weapon shop.
As they entered, Erika’s heart pounded.
‘Am I finally graduating from the shabby wooden sword?’
Would he finally buy her a real sword—something solid and shining?
…But instead, Pechenik handed her a different weapon.
“This one’s really fun.”
“This one?”
“Sneaking around and attacking from afar? Absolutely thrilling.”
“…?”
Once she heard more, it actually did sound fun.
“I’m already trembling.”
And just like that, she began learning archery.
I love their relationship so much. 💖