Tomorrow was the day of departure. Naturally, there won’t be any time tomorrow, and it will be difficult to receive proper training while on the road.
“You’re too timid. Try to be more aggressive.”
“Huff, huff….”
Karl steadied his breathing at Bilford’s words and reset his stance.
But even when told he was being timid, Karl had no idea how much more aggressive he was supposed to be. It already felt like he was being plenty aggressive.
“Your stance is good, but if you hesitate because you’re too focused on form, it’s meaningless.”
Because Karl had a strange tendency to doubt praise, Bilford treated him more harshly than necessary and pressed him hard in their sparring, even though Karl had only been holding a sword for two days.
“I won’t injure you, Sir Karl. Don’t worry and be bold.”
Though he could not yet handle mana, Bilford had already reached a level in swordsmanship far beyond that of noble swordsmen his age.
No matter how hard Karl struggled, he couldn’t so much as graze a single hair on Bilford, and there was no situation in which Bilford would lose control and injure him.
Even so, Karl failed to mount a proper offense. Bilford’s plan to lightly spar so Karl could get a feel for the overall flow of combat and receive feedback on his mistakes was becoming completely useless.
Hesitating at Bilford’s words, Karl cautiously stepped forward, then shrank back under the pressure of Bilford’s stance. Gritting his teeth, he pushed in as he had been taught and brought his sword down.
Clack!
Bilford easily blocked Karl’s attack, raising his hand to receive it lightly with the forte near the crossguard.
Normally, he could have followed up with a thrust or wrapped around Karl’s blade and launched a series of attacks, but Bilford chose to remain on defense.
“……”
However, like most beginners, instead of ignoring defense and unleashing a flurry of attacks, Karl changed his stance the moment his strike was blocked, holding his sword between middle and high guard before quickly retreating.
“Bilford, fall back.”
“Yes?”
Seeing this, Catherine stepped in, sending Bilford back, and stood before Karl with a wooden sword in hand.
Karl was slightly taken aback. He had assumed she would simply watch silently after leaving it to Bilford.
“Sir Karl. Watch carefully and follow what I do.”
Then she demonstrated the basic movements Karl had learned.
With his sword held in middle guard, she quickly closed the distance and brought it down in a sharp arc. She moved slowly so Karl could follow, yet it was still chilling enough to raise goosebumps.
Karl watched Catherine’s movements intently. His narrowed eyes tracked even her smallest motions with persistence.
At a glance, her stance wasn’t much different from Bilford’s.
Tap!
But then, Catherine sprang lightly to her left, shifting her body to the side.
Raising both hands high, she twisted her wrists and swiftly cut back down to middle guard with the back edge of the blade.
“Try it.”
Catherine took her stance in front of Karl.
“…Against you?”
“Yes.”
At her firm reply, Karl pressed his lips together, lowered his chin, and stared at her.
For a long moment, Karl couldn’t move. He had hesitated but still rushed at Bilford. But standing before Catherine, he simply couldn’t bring himself to swing his sword.
“Sir Karl, this is sparring. I have no intention of killing you.”
“……”
Only then did Karl realize he had been treating this not as sparring but as real combat.
And he understood why he had struck once and then hurriedly retreated. He hadn’t learned how to protect himself and continue attacking after his strike was blocked, so he chose to retreat to keep himself safe.
Catherine saw straight through Karl’s passive movements and showed him what came next.
Teaching follow-up techniques to someone as frail as Karl, who hadn’t even fully grasped the basics, was normally forbidden.
If it led to bad habits, it could cost him his life in an instant.
Even so, Catherine readily chose to teach chaining techniques to Karl, who had only held a sword for two days.
Karl clenched his teeth.
Having been so deeply impressed by Catherine’s demonstration, even though he clearly understood this was sparring, he still found it difficult to attack.
But standing still would accomplish nothing. Summoning all his courage, Karl swung his sword.
Clack!
The wooden swords collided. To Karl, it felt like striking a rock.
Though he had surprising strength and stamina for his frail frame, his body was not what one would expect of a sixteen-year-old.
His overworked, thin wrists alone were under significant strain.
But completely immersed, Karl didn’t even feel the pain.
Simply swinging his sword at Catherine put him under intense stress. Sweat poured from him, and his heart pounded wildly.
He was afraid.
Just like when he had been dying from a fever, just like when he first faced Madius.
And because of that, Karl could move even more fiercely. Because of fear, he could drive himself harder to protect himself.
With their wooden swords still locked, Catherine subtly angled her blade toward Karl’s neck. From this position, she could take his head with a single thrust. If it were Catherine, she could kill Karl even with a wooden sword.
And unlike Bilford, Catherine thrust forward without the slightest hesitation.
Slow enough for Karl to react, yet firm as stone, with enough force to break his neck.
Unlike when he sparred with Bilford, Karl did not retreat.
In truth, Karl already knew that blindly retreating wasn’t a good choice. He had only done so because he didn’t know what else to do.
Recalling Catherine’s movement, he pushed aside her incoming blade while shifting his body to the left.
As if by magic, Catherine’s blade caught on Karl’s crossguard and was stopped. Twisting his wrist and rotating his center, Karl swung the back edge of his blade in a sharp arc, striking Catherine’s side.
Thud!
Just like before, Karl hurriedly retreated again.
Because he still didn’t know how to defend himself against the next attack.
“Huff! Huff! Haa…!”
Even though he had only exchanged two moves in that brief instant, Karl breathed as heavily as if he had sprinted at full speed.
Rather than feeling joy at having clumsily succeeded in replicating a move he had seen once, the thought that he could have died came first.
It felt as though the spot where Catherine’s wooden sword had been aimed at his neck was being pressed down.
“The angle of your step was slightly off. You might have injured your ankle.”
“…Ah, um…”
At Catherine’s words, Karl hesitated and stepped back, then flinched as a dull ache ran through his ankle.
“If you had a more flexible body, you could afford to twist more boldly. Then you could lower your stance completely and dig into the lower line.”
Tap!
Catherine repeated the same movement as before, changing only the angle of her ankle. This time, her body sank low to the ground.
With her sword raised high to perfectly guard her head, she struck at the opponent’s lower line, while simultaneously circling to the opponent’s right to take their flank.
Her footwork was light yet heavy—contradictory, yet the only way to describe it.
Karl was completely entranced by the picture-perfect movement.
“You have talent, Sir Karl. Not just talent for martial skill, but something more important—a sense for life and death.”
“A sense?”
At Catherine’s cryptic words, Karl furrowed his brows and asked again.
Instead of answering directly, Catherine took her stance in front of him. Her sword was raised high in an upper guard, but something about it differed from the basic form Karl had learned.
“How would you respond?”
“……”
Karl carefully studied Catherine’s stance while moving his sword, which was held in the middle guard position, back and forth.
The tip of his blade couldn’t settle with firm resolve; it trembled, unable to find its place.
In the end, Karl stepped back.
“Why did you retreat?”
Karl had clearly learned how to defend himself and counter against a downward strike. Yet instead of applying what he learned, he chose to retreat.
“I don’t think I can block it.”
Karl answered honestly. Looking at Catherine’s stance, he was convinced he couldn’t handle even that seemingly simple downward strike.
“Explain in more detail.”
Catherine pressed him.
As Karl examined her stance, unease and tension crept over him, and a chilling sensation ran down his spine.
He struggled to put into words what felt like a purely instinctive perception, then finally spoke without confidence.
“I thought about blocking it, but if I do, it feels like other areas would be too exposed.”
“The upper line?”
“If I raise my arms to block the upper strike, it feels like my side is left open. If I keep to the middle, it feels like my head is exposed. And if I angle the blade to cover both high and middle, it feels like my lower line is left open.”
At Karl’s answer, Catherine nodded while Bilford widened his eyes in surprise.
“Excellent.”
Catherine said only that, then unleashed a flurry of strikes from that very stance.
Whoosh!
The sword that had been raised high slid down along Catherine’s back, then, as if by magic, shot out from her side and swept horizontally at mid-level.
Raising her sword again, Catherine swung several more times. Not only at mid-level—she even twisted her center dramatically to cut low.
From a single stance, dozens of attack trajectories emerged.
A variety of attacks that would be impossible without tremendous flexibility and strength.
“The distance between the two hands gripping the sword, the angle of the arms, whether you pull or push the shoulders, the direction of the waist, the center of gravity, the angle of the knees, the stride, the positioning of both feet. These are things you cannot know without learning.”
That is why swordsmanship and martial arts are frightening.
If you don’t know, you get hit, and that can cost you your life.
And yet Karl, without having learned any of it, instinctively judged the danger and stepped back.
It wasn’t just talent for martial arts. Like a beast that has caught the scent of blood, he was sensing it on a visceral level.
It was only natural that Karl behaved as if frightened during his sparring with Bilford and Catherine.
It must have felt like facing an enormous monster he could not possibly defeat.
This was an extremely rare talent.
“It would be best to increase the amount of sparring time.”
At Catherine’s words, Karl nodded. However, he couldn’t simply agree without reservation.
“Lady Catherine, we depart for the campaign tomorrow. It will be difficult to find the time.”
Karl had far too many things to learn besides swordsmanship.
The most urgent of all was learning to write properly. He was at the point where he couldn’t even sign his name.
“…I’ll try to make time whenever I can.”
“Understood.”
Catherine, knowing that Karl needed to learn a great many things across a wide range, had no choice but to let it pass like that.
***
The day of departure arrived.
Karl struggled to get up early in the morning with Cecil’s help. His body, which hadn’t properly moved for sixteen years, ached all over after two consecutive days of horseback riding and sword training.
“Wouldn’t it be better to receive treatment from Milton?”
Cecil asked with concern. Karl shook his head.
“If I do, my muscles won’t grow. I have to endure it.”
Cecil felt as if she might go mad with worry over Karl.
She could not follow him to the Barony of Hilpin. There were various complicated reasons, but in truth, Madius had chosen Cecil as the leash to keep Karl under control.
Karl sat for a moment to catch his breath, then suddenly sprang to his feet.
In fact, Karl had no need to receive treatment from Milton. Milton knew it, Cecil knew it, and Karl himself knew it better than anyone.
His body had recovered at a speed that was clearly impossible.
Combined with strength and stamina that should not have come from that body, he was able to spring up even after handling himself roughly for two days. This was something that should have made it impossible for him to even lift a wooden sword.
Karl recalled how the heat and cold that had raged within him had not transformed into mana but had instead seeped into his body, and how, thanks to that, his ruined body had been restored.
An unexpected stroke of luck.
It was a shame he couldn’t freely wield mana, but that was something he could gain someday. For now, the strength to control his body was far more valuable.
With Cecil’s help, Karl finished getting ready. After putting on the armor and sword he had grown somewhat accustomed to over the past two days of training, he draped the long, cumbersome cloak over his shoulders.
The red cloak was embroidered in gold thread with the emblem of the Imperial House of Hardion.
An eagle seated upon a balanced scale with its wings spread as it gazed downward.
What a ridiculous emblem.
Karl let out a quiet chuckle. He could already imagine how much people would mock him without even seeing it.
His clothes had already grown a bit tight and uncomfortable, while the cloak was so long it nearly dragged on the ground. He looked no different from a ridiculous clown.
Even so, Karl squared his shoulders and walked forward with confidence.
“Cecil, I’ll be back.”
“Karl… please stay safe. Please.”
Karl gently embraced Cecil, whose eyes shimmered with tears.
With trembling hands, Cecil hugged him back.
They looked like family. Nothing like an imperial prince and a lowborn nurse with no blood relation.
Leaving Cecil behind, Karl stepped out of the room.
Harmon, who no longer had to attend to Karl thanks to Cecil taking over his duties, and Milton, the imperial physician dispatched to ensure the survival of the royal, followed behind him.
Though it was still early, Karl knew everything would already be prepared.
Since no officer had been sent to command the thirty soldiers who would accompany the subjugation mission, Catherine herself had taken on the role of commander. She was not one to overlook anything and would handle everything thoroughly.
To begin with, a knight must hone not only martial skill but also strategy, tactics, and the art of command.
For now, he would leave things to Catherine, but Karl knew he would have to learn much from her, step by step.
“Sir Karl.”
Catherine, having finished all preparations in advance in response to Karl’s trust, lined up the soldiers as soon as he appeared and gave a brief report on their numbers and condition, as well as supplies and the planned route.
At the flawless, impeccably clean report, Karl nodded and slowly looked over the soldiers who were forcing themselves to keep straight faces.
Pathetic.
This was supposed to be the departure of an imperial prince, ordered by the Emperor himself to carry out a monster subjugation mission….yet there was not a single person to see him off.
On top of that, the soldiers’ morale was practically at rock bottom. They wouldn’t run or slack off, but neither would they fight with any real effort.
Aside from Vilford, who stood beside Catherine, glancing around with a face full of dissatisfaction, there was no one he could trust.
“Hahaha.”
Karl laughed. His small shoulders that were almost swallowed by his cloak trembled slightly.
His loose blond hair fell forward, covering his face. People assumed he was laughing in despair at his own situation.
But when Karl lifted his head to reveal his gaunt, fragile-looking face and smiled, they couldn’t help but stare in shock.
He wasn’t laughing out of despair.
He looked genuinely, purely amused.
Laughing… in a situation like this?
Had he truly gone mad?
Or did he think he was heading out on a picnic?
“Let’s move out.”
“…Yes.”
Catherine hesitated for a brief moment at Karl’s pure, untroubled voice, then answered firmly.
Karl did not refuse Harmon’s support as he staggered and struggled to climb into the carriage. The way he carefully avoided stepping on his cloak made it seem doubtful he could even walk properly.
Leaving everything to Catherine, Karl even had the carriage windows covered.
“We depart.”
With Catherine’s voice as the signal, the shabby subjugation force set out.
With no one to see him off, Karl left the imperial palace just like that.
“……”
And yet, there was someone who watched him off from afar.
Eingir, who had been observing Karl’s every move from a distance, closed his eyes. His yellow eyes, tinged with red, disappeared into the darkness as he quietly stepped away.
He had wanted to plant someone among them, but Madius had pushed things forward too suddenly, and with only a mere thirty soldiers assigned, he hadn’t even had the chance to try.
Was it coincidence? Or was it intentional?
Eingir withdrew his previous assessment of Karl.
For now, he was an unknown risk.
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