Chapter 37
…Rather than saying her hand turned black, it felt more like there had been a black glove that suddenly vanished. However… Saldir tilted his head slightly. When he looked again, there was nothing on Verdette’s hand. Maybe he had just imagined it.
Hmm, best not to mention it. Saldir made up his mind.
“We’d better start training immediately. As early as tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Thanks to her older brothers, Verdette is exceptionally clever.”
“It must be because Albrecht and Saldir set such a good example.”
As Theodor spoke, Jindel and Horne nodded in agreement, speaking in turn. Albrecht and Saldir smiled. The atmosphere was as peaceful and relaxed as it could be.
* * *
The next day.
“Still sulking, are you?”
“No.”
I pouted slightly.
Waiting for me at the training ground that morning wasn’t Ove, but Grand Duke Theodor—my grandfather. Dressed in a simple training outfit, he was smiling as he looked at me.
And the training ground, of all places!
It wasn’t the classroom where I usually had lessons, but the real training ground used by the Saelkar Knights. In fact, in another training ground next to the one Theodor and I entered, shirtless knights were enthusiastically sparring with one another.
Amidst all the shouting and training yells…
“Well, at least you got a good night’s sleep and can train with your grandpa in top condition.”
“That’s… that’s true.”
I opened my mouth to argue… but closed it again. Because he was right.
I was only seven years old now, but even I knew what an incredible honor it was to train with Theodor. Besides, he had been my idol for as long as I could remember.
“…I’ve dreamed of training with you for a very long time, Your Grace.”
I hesitated a little before shyly confessing.
“You brat!”
Suddenly, Theodor shouted at me.
“Ah! Wh-what?!”
Startled, I flinched and shouted back. It was louder than thunder! I looked up at him in shock. With a stern face, Theodor’s expression had hardened.
“Why do you keep calling me ‘Your Grace Theodor’?!”
“…Huh?”
“Why do you use such distant titles for me?!”
“…”
Theodor scolded me again, still stern.
“Say ‘Grandfather.’ Loud and proud. That’s how you improve.”
“…”
“Hurry!”
“G-Grandfather!”
Theodor barked, and I shouted in response. I mean, if he tells me to do it, I have to do it!
“Again!”
“Grandfather!”
“Again! You should shout ‘Grandfather!’ even when surprised or woken from sleep! Again!”
“G-Grandfather?”
“Stronger!”
“Grandfather!”
“With pride!”
“Grandfather!”
This was starting to feel like the military. Like some kind of drill!
I had to shout “Grandfather” dozens of times until my throat was raw, while Theodor watched with great satisfaction. Only after that did he give me a big bear hug.
His arms were so massive, it felt like I was being crushed by a boulder. I got to experience what it felt like to be trapped under a rock. And then, Theodor even rubbed his beard-covered cheek against mine.
“Now then, before we start the real training…”
“…We’re still not starting?”
“Let’s first see what you’re capable of.”
Rubbing my now-tingling cheek, I stepped down to the ground.
Theodor adjusted the height of the punching dummy so it matched mine, then nodded toward it.
“Go ahead, give it a hit.”
“…”
I glanced around briefly, then focused on the dummy in front of me. It looked like a wooden mannequin covered in cushioned strike zones.
I lightly jabbed it in the face. Thud. Theodor immediately narrowed his eyes and said:
“Put more sincerity into it.”
I was going to anyway.
I took a deep breath and stood properly in front of the dummy. Then I twisted slightly and threw a jab, quick like a flash. The first strike hit the forehead—light, but precise. Then I followed up naturally with an elbow strike and a shoulder rotation into the torso. The motions flowed like water. Ah, this was fun.
Excited, I started striking the dummy just as I’d imagined.
A punch to the center of the chest, a quick retreat, then a final strike to the abdomen—every movement flowed seamlessly. This was a combo I often used. I had to follow the flow, not force the power. The faster, the better. I was physically weaker than most average men, so I had to rely on speed and precision—targeting only vital areas with sharp, clean hits.
And the feel of the dummy was good. It wasn’t exactly like hitting a real person, but it had a nice bounce that helped solidify my technique. Just a few more rounds, and I’d probably have good calluses forming…
It was then.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm with great force and lifted it. My body swayed, still suspended in the air. Wh-what was happening?
“You little rascal!”
A thunderous voice boomed over my head. I looked up, shocked. Theodor was holding my arm aloft with a fierce, scowling face.
He growled, his eyes sharp and angry.
“Where did you learn such thug-like street brawling techniques?!”
…I swallowed hard.
Anyone could tell—Theodor was really mad. His face was flaming with anger, his eyes glaring.
“Where did you pick up such crude techniques that barely count as basic form?! The reason you’ve been focusing on building your strength is to lay a clean foundation! Only when you’re truly ready can you understand the core of our family’s martial arts! Who taught you to sully your body with this garbage?!”
Oh no.
Realizing what he meant, my face turned pale.
He called it “thug-like street brawling.” And honestly, that was a perfect description of what I’d done in the back alleys of Otern.
That’s right. No matter how skilled I was, that was only in Otern’s backstreets. I’d never learned formal martial arts or been trained by a master. I just created what worked for me—techniques I’d cobbled together for survival. Meaning, there were bound to be all kinds of rough, bad habits mixed in that I hadn’t even realized.
And Theodor… he could see all those flaws at a glance. I’d never learned the family’s secret martial arts techniques like Albrecht and Saldir talked about.
Still held by the arm, my face flushed with heat. It must be bright red by now. I was so embarrassed. What I’d thought of as “training” was really just worthless trash in his eyes.
It felt like the sky was collapsing. So this was how I must look…
I knew I probably looked very lacking… but still, it hurt. The techniques he called “junk” were ones I’d learned desperately in my past life—through endless trial and error, getting hit and dodging, only developing a feel for combat through experience.
“…I’m sorry…”
Feeling like everything I’d worked for was being denied, I whispered, barely holding back tears.
“I just… wanted to become strong so badly…”
No, I couldn’t hold it in.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
With my lips trembling and tears falling in drops, I looked at Theodor and said,
“I just kind of… hit it however I could…”
Crying messed up my pronunciation again. This was a disaster.
