Chapter 7: Ecstasy (1)

“Young master, I’ve brought the wine.”

It was just after I’d finished training and was resting.

Aaron, who had disappeared for a bit, returned with a bottle of wine.

“Sir Vallach is a well-known drinker. He’ll love this.”

“Well, that’s true…”

I stared intently at the wine.

Vallach is undeniably a heavy drinker. That much is a fact.

But I wasn’t bringing him wine for his pleasure.

“This won’t be enough.”

That grumpy old man would just snatch the wine and ignore me completely.

Sigh.

I held the bottle and closed my eyes.

A warm, tingling sensation flowed from my hand into the wine bottle.

“50 faith has been bestowed upon the object.”

“It now holds the properties of a low-grade holy wine.”

On the outside, the wine looked unchanged.

But now, it had become one of a kind.

The perfect bait to hook Vallach.

“The meeting should be over by now.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

I left the training grounds with Aaron and headed toward the main palace.

“Is this the place?”

We stopped in front of an elaborately decorated guest room.

I steadied my breath and knocked.

No response.

Maybe he stepped out for a walk?

Then suddenly—

Bam!

The door flung open.

“And who the hell are you?”

A massive figure with a fierce expression emerged.

He looked more like a bandit chief than a nobleman.

This was Vallach.

“I’m Richard Bartenberg. I came to pay my respects.”

I bowed politely.

“Richard? That useless piece of trash?”

His raspy voice grated my ears as it came from above.

Calling someone trash to their face? How nice.

“Hmph!”

He snorted dismissively.

Judging by his expression, he already knew why I was here.

“What a pain. Just hand over the wine and get lost.”

His gaze landed on the wine bottle I was holding.

I subtly hid it behind my back.

“Please accept me as your disciple.”

Vallach hated roundabout talk.

And I wasn’t a fan of it either, so I got straight to the point.

“I heard you’ve long been searching for a worthy disciple. Please give a chance to one of Bartenberg blood.”

Vallach looked me over, then scoffed.

It was clearly a mocking laugh.

“Your brother said the same thing. And his brother before him. Not a single one satisfied me. And you? Trash like you? You’re not even worth considering.”

He moved to shut the door.

I held out the holy wine.

As expected of a legendary drinker, Vallach took it reflexively.

“It’s good for your health. I’m honored to have met you.”

“Leave.”

That ended our conversation.

Bam!

The door slammed shut.

It was a brutally cold response.

Aaron looked a bit flustered.

“Young master, are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

I’d expected this.

“Shall we look for another teacher?”

“No. It has to be him.”

Who is Vallach?

A swordsman who inherited the forgotten blade of the Sword Saint—though only Ludwig and I know that.

To the world, he’s just a powerful but gruff man.

“Don’t worry. Let’s just keep training for now.”

I had thrown out the bait.

If holy wine wasn’t enough, I had another surprise—one he should’ve noticed.

I stared at the shut door before turning away.

***

Meanwhile…

Vallach stared at his hand with a serious face.

When Richard handed over the wine, their hands briefly touched.

“That brat has mana?”

An unfamiliar energy had passed into him through Richard’s hand.

It was definitely intentional.

He must have released just enough mana for Vallach alone to sense.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be mana-insensitive?”

But that wasn’t all.

Crack!

Vallach clenched his fist.

A surge of vitality spread through his body.

Richard had given him something beyond mana—something invigorating.

It wasn’t malicious.

On the contrary, it was pure and radiant.

So much so that it didn’t match Richard’s reputation as a degenerate.

“A sly one. Hiding his fangs, huh?”

Vallach had a duty: as the inheritor of the Sword Saint’s legacy, he had to pass it on to a disciple.

But none ever satisfied him.

Especially not Bartenbergs, who were born with everything and didn’t understand real struggle.

Hmm…

He stroked his chin.

The Richard he met earlier was nothing like the infamous scoundrel.

“He stayed polite despite my rude treatment. That was unexpected.”

Vallach found himself intrigued.

“Maybe I’ll toy with him a little.”

He had no intention of accepting Richard as a disciple.

It was merely to amuse himself.

But everything changed when he took a sip of that wine—

BAM!

He slammed open the door and grabbed a passing knight.

“Bring me to Richard. Now!”

To Vallach, disciples came first—alcohol second.

But holy wine?

That was temptation incarnate.

***

I looked at the old man standing in front of me.

‘That bait worked better than I thought.’

Didn’t expect him to show up in less than an hour.

“You liked the wine, I take it?”

His flushed face showed he’d downed the whole bottle.

“What was that wine?”

Vallach tried to sound indifferent, but he kept licking his lips.

Ahem!

He coughed as if realizing he was being obvious.

Then his face returned to normal—he must’ve used mana to sober up.

Not exactly what mana is for…

“Let’s get to the point.”

Maybe it was pride as a Sword Saint.

He forced himself to feign indifference.

“You brat. You deliberately released mana just for me to sense.”

I gave a sheepish smile.

It wasn’t intentional.

That was literally all the mana I had.

Barely enough for Vallach to feel.

But I had my reasons.

Vallach had wandered the continent in search of a disciple, but never found one.

To me, that was an opportunity.

So I provoked him with mana and faith.

“I have no intention of accepting you as a disciple.”

His voice was firm.

Expected.

A man who couldn’t find a successor in years wouldn’t be swayed by someone like Richard overnight.

But I had a card to play.

“Still, having you around might be an amusing distraction.”

A distraction, huh?

Still, I smiled faintly.

At least I’d caught his interest.

“That’ll do.”

Sigh…

***

Pant, pant…

I collapsed to the floor, breath ragged.

Vallach had made me run laps around the training ground “to test my fitness.”

I’d easily run over 30 laps.

“You’ve clearly trained a bit.”

“I’ve tried hard.”

I drank some cold water.

“Here.”

He tossed me a wooden sword.

Was this the start of actual swordsmanship?

But then he added:

“Don’t even think I’ll teach you my techniques. I’ll only show you the basics.”

He said it like I was a lost cause.

“Understood.”

“Oh? No complaints?”

“What could I do without the basics?”

He gave me a strange look.

I ignored it and picked up the sword.

Click.

He clicked his tongue and got into position.

His lazy expression vanished.

Like he was facing a real enemy.

“Watch closely.”

He swung the wooden sword through the air.

Just basic cuts and thrusts—yet in his hands, even that looked extraordinary.

After a few swings, he said:

“Take the stance.”

“Like… this?”

I awkwardly copied him.

Whack!

“Ow!”

His sword smacked me square on the head.

“Are those eyes just for show? Keep the sword at eye level!”

He could’ve just told me!

But I endured it.

Someday, I’d drain every secret he had.

“Relax your shoulders! You swing like a stiff log!”

His corrections continued endlessly.

Even holding a stance drained my stamina.

And of course, his sword kept smacking my head.

“Ugh! My poor skull…”

I complained, but another strike came anyway.

“You’ve got no talent whatsoever. Give up on the sword now.”

I cursed him silently.

He’d judged me before I even swung properly.

Was it my fault? Or Richard’s?

Probably both.

Tch.

Vallach already looked ready to give up.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve got hidden talent.”

“You know the old saying? ‘A needle in a pouch will pierce through.’ You’re just a pebble.”

Ouch.

I bit my lip and took the stance again.

At last, Vallach moved on.

“Next: horizontal slash.”

What followed was hell.

Horizontal cuts, vertical cuts, thrusts…

All while enduring endless nagging and blows to the head.

My poor skull suffered the most.

Drip…

“B-blood?!”

At last, my head split open.

“Hmph. Don’t be so dramatic.”

He looked calm—but I saw it.

His eyes had widened when blood first trickled out.

“Even a farmer would learn faster than you.”

I had nothing to say.

Not because I agreed—but because something appeared before me.

[Trait Acquired: Basic Swordsmanship]

[Current Proficiency: F]

[You can improve this through training and faith.]

Heh…

Just as I expected.

‘This world is built on game mechanics—at least for me.’

The notification looked exactly like in the game.

I chuckled.

“A light in the darkness.”

The system window, always showing up when I needed it, was my one hope.

Vallach just clicked his tongue.

“Bleeding and smiling? You really have gone mad.”

He set down his sword.

The sun had set—time had flown by.

“Mastering the basics will take you a lifetime.”

He turned without looking back.

He was disappointed.

Again.

“One week…”

If I remembered right, Vallach would stay at House Bartenberg for about that long.

“I need more faith.”

I had to pump faith into my skill and raise my proficiency.

Enough to change Vallach’s mind within a week.

It was a time attack challenge.

As I watched him walk away, I clenched my fists with resolve.