The day of the entrance examination has dawned.

Mental preparation? Warm up exercises? I didn’t need anything like that.

 

I was Daisy Fager, a maid of the Weatherwoods, an enlightened sword-demon, and the Count of Vladiev. I was the hero that delivered the final blow to Mephisto and the founder of the Devil’s ironing technique.

 

I wasn’t afraid of some entrance test.

The place where the examination took place was near the royal palace.

In an open space as wide as a race-course, in a white building reminiscent of Mephisto’s temples. The dense stone steps for seating surrounding the circular arena reminded me of the Black Ragel.

 

“Are you here, senior?”

“Hmm.”

 

Jean, who had arrived earlier, tried to lift Andert, who was sitting slouched in a chair, to make him go somewhere else, by grabbing the back of his neck. I sat closely beside Andert, who didn’t budge.

 

“What about Count Serenier?”

“He is with the judges.”

 

I focused my gaze and confirmed the people gathered on the other side of the arena.

 

There were three judges wearing ceremonial robes.

 

Somehow, their complexion didn’t look good. Next to them, in the shade, King Astrosa, Count Serenier, and the white-haired Calepa, dressed in casual attire as they were out for a walk, were resting comfortably. Something looked awkward.

 

‘Is that Desherro over there? It seems he’s been invited, considering his status.’

 

Even from a distance, I could feel when Count Serenier looked at me and smiled.

I turned my head away with a twinge of my nose.

He wrinkled his nose and turned his head.

 

“There are really a lot of people here for the judging. Just by a glance, you can tell there are many outstanding individuals among them.”

 

As I looked at Jean, who looked somewhat excited. I suddenly became curious about something.

 

“How did you learn under the swordmaster?”

“…Swordmaster? Are you talking about swordsmanship?”

 

It was when Jean was carefully organizing her thoughts to form a reply.

“How else? You have to roll like a dog.”

A casual voice threw out. It belonged to Andert.

There was a voice thrown out casually. It was Andert.

 

“Crazy Dog.”

 

With a deeply annoyed expression, he looked up at me, uttering those two words.

 

“Why do you think I was called by that damn nickname? The Swordmaster treats all those who wish to be his disciples without any mercy. He rolls them like dogs with ordinary training, rolls them to the extreme, rolls them until they’re on the verge of death, and only teaches the art of the sword to the remaining few.”

 

Jean, wearing an uncomfortable expression, immediately refuted.

 

“That training is not just ordinary training. It builds stamina, strength, and mental fortitude.”

 

“You’re saying ridiculous things. The swordmaster doesn’t even bother with those who can’t even handle the basics. Aren’t you the same? Even though you’re a wandering mercenary who came from who knows where, your skills were decent enough to rival most knights. He must have thought so as well.”

 

“…”

 

“The most despicable thing about the Swordmaster is that he casually touches people’s traumas. Not only does he touch it, but he also endlessly provokes them until they break. He doesn’t teach swordsmanship to those who can’t overcome it. But even if they roll like worms at his command, they can’t surpass the second wall.”

 

Trauma, huh?

 

According to Andert’s testimony, the training methods of the swordmaster and Rogue seemed to have many similarities.

 

“Can I overcome this wall while I’m still alive? The first time I questioned that, the existence of the swordmaster felt so distant. How did this man surpass the third wall? What kind of life has he lived?”

 

“…”

 

“True learning begins from there. The swordmaster taught us that way. Well, for those of us whom he taught, we had to use it to kill people later, and he can’t be called a humane teacher in any way. But for those who pursue strength, there is no better mentor than him.”

 

As I listened to the story that continued incongruously, I couldn’t help but have questions that couldn’t be answered without asking.

 

“Why do you want to become strong?”

 

What motivated Andert and Jean to seek power?

 

‘Judging by how far they’re willing to go, it doesn’t seem like they’re doing it just for the sake of it.’

 

Instead of answering my question, Andert responded with a retort without even blinking.

 

“I should be the one asking that. Where did you live and what did you do to reach that level at your age?”

 

To take revenge against your enemies….

 

“Call me Master. Then I’ll tell you.”

“Darn it.”

With a snort, Andert moved away, shuffling his long legs towards the seats on the higher floor.

 

‘It’s strange how quiet he’s been lately.’

 

While we were at Midwinterre, he used to come up with bizarre questions to ask me, but ever since I brought him along to Astrosa, he’s been surprisingly calm.

 

‘Has he become timid because he’s in a foreign country?’

 

He wasn’t that type of guy.

 

Since it was a welcome change to have the most explosive guy quietly sulking, I pretended not to be interested for now.

 

After Andert left, I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

As someone who claimed to be a teacher, I realized I was leaving Jean to herself a little too much.

 

That didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about her at all.

 

“I don’t feel like teaching you swordsmanship.”

 

Jean looked at me with a slightly surprised expression.

“More accurately, I can’t teach you. I’ve never learned many advanced techniques in swordsmanship. And I’ve concluded that what you need is not just an increase in martial prowess.”

 

Jean was already a skilled swordsman.

 

She didn’t just use her sword on the battlefield like me, nor was I a talent who learned under the legendary genius, swordmaster.

 

Therefore, she shouldn’t be lacking in basic skills like slashing or thrusting a sword.

 

“Why is that?”

“Because you are a Sword Demon.”

“…Does that mean I shouldn’t become stronger because I might be completely possessed?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Even if you become completely possessed, I can handle you alone.”

“Oh, I see.”

 

I felt a faint sense of reassurance in Jean’s slightly puzzled smile.

My greatest desire was to help Jean overcome the barrier of being a sword-demon.

 

Regardless of how it happened, I had a similar experience, so perhaps I could teach her in a similar way.

 

“When you think of someone important, whose face comes to mind?”

 

Jean hesitated for a moment before speaking.

 

“My younger brother comes to mind.”

“Last time, you said you didn’t have any family?”

“Yes. My brother was my only family, but he passed away a long time ago.”

“Is there anyone among the living whose face comes to mind?”

“No.”

“What about a long-time friend?”

“I don’t have any.”

“What about a lover?”

“I don’t have one.”

 

This was a difficult situation.

 

A Sword Demon is a being swayed by its sword.

As a result, it is easy to lose control over the sword. The phenomenon experienced when completely losing this control is called complete assimilation or complete posession.

 

However, when I crossed the second barrier, even if I couldn’t achieve physical evolution, I gained the ability to control and prevent complete possession.

 

So, how did I obtain this control?

 

I obtained it by overcoming the fears of becoming a complete sword-demon and fully accepting myself as a sword-demon.

Then, how was the fear overcome?

 

“This scar is my pride. Hehe. Among all the princesses of the Penrotta lineage, there is no one else who bears such glorious scars. To think it’s a scar left by a hero!”

 

A presence that praised me and encouraged my identity as a sword-demon.

 

“Please teach me how to overcome and not harm those I trust. Teach me how to prevail like a senior who never gives up.”

 

A presence that believed that being a sword-demon could be helpful.

 

“Now that you’ve confirmed that I’m alive, get rid of things like swords. Treat the time you wielded a sword as if it never happened. Just live the life that you like as a maid.”

 

A person who made me realize my sword was a part of me.

Thanks to them, I was able to overcome my fear.

 

It was a realization that would have been impossible for me to come to throughout my entire life if there were no people around me who needed me and whom I needed.

 

But for a sword-demon who had no friends, no family and no lover.

 

“If you have nothing, then give up on crossing the barrier.”

 

“….”

 

“If you don’t want to give up, start by making friends.”

 

“Do I really have to?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Please tell me the reason.”

 

I bit my lip.

 

I decided that conveying what I had realized in words would be meaningless.

‘When I think about it, I really don’t know much about Jean.’

 

I hadn’t even asked her the most fundamental question that defined a swordsman’s existence.

 

“Why do you want to become stronger?”

Jean hesitated for a moment before giving a prepared answer.

 

“Because the Great Wizard Mephisto might still be alive.”

Ah, unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated that name at all.

 

“He’s dead, Jean. He was annihilated along with Andert Fager. It’s been four years already.”

“But no one found their bodies, right? He could still be alive somewhere. He might be growing stronger while waiting for the right moment to strike.”

 

Oh, that’s actually a very solid reason. Wanting to protect the world, huh? That was the stuff for heroes.

 

“So you’re worried about Mephisto’s resurrection. Is that the only reason you want to become stronger?”

 

Jean’s expression stiffened slightly.

 

It seems like she wasn’t prepared for this question.

 

That meant there was a higher chance of getting a more honest answer from this side of the conversation.

Tap the screen to use advanced tools Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.

You'll Also Like