“I have other training sessions, so I can’t devote that much time to swordsmanship. Once a week is enough.”
“Ah..! That makes sense. Since you mainly use a different weapon…. When would be a good time for you?”
“Anytime except Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”
“Today happens to be Saturday, so shall we do Sunday morning?”
It was basically saying to start training right away from tomorrow.
Since my schedule for tomorrow had nothing but solo training planned, it didn’t really matter.
With this, Saturday was reserved for Professor Radbisin, and Sunday for training with Vigdis—my entire weekend was basically spoken for.
‘Still, if I have to go out, Monday mornings only have lectures, and Friday afternoons are free. Or I could go out after morning training with Vigdis..!
I ran through my schedule in my head and confirmed there were no conflicts, then nodded.
“Then 8 a.m. tomorrow at the shared training grounds. Eventually, we might move to a private training area, but for now, we should make it known publicly that we meet regularly.”
“Hearing it put that way makes it feel like some kind of showy meeting.”
“What are you talking about? The whole point was to show others that we’re on good terms, so they don’t suspect a broken engagement.”
“Of…!”
‘Why was she making that sound?’
I stared quietly at Vigdis, and she curled up awkwardly, avoiding my gaze.
It seemed Vigdis hadn’t even thought about this basic calculation.
She probably just casually said she’d teach me swordsmanship as a hopeful friend.
I had admired her for being clever, but I’d have to take that back. She only used half her brain.
“Anyway, there’s something to add to the contract, so give it here.”
“You want to add that I have to teach you swordsmanship once a week?”
“You can’t put that in. You won’t have time during exams and vacations.”
Vigdis looked puzzled but slid the contract and pen across the table to me.
Then she noticed the doughnut in front of me and glanced at me.
She must have forgotten it was there during our conversation, but as things relaxed, her appetite kicked in.
“Eat it.”
I repeated what I’d said just before sitting opposite her.
Vigdis, who had ignored the doughnut before, now picked up the fork without hesitation.
After watching her, I returned my gaze to the contract and added a new clause:
[The ‘Party B’ shall not sacrifice or risk their life for others.]
I couldn’t write explicitly, “Don’t take hits or die for others.”
That would be too suspicious.
Of course, this was still somewhat suspicious, but I was confident I could talk my way around it.
“Um… uh, uh…?!”
Vigdis made a strange noise with the doughnut in her mouth, eyes wide with obvious surprise.
Judging by her quick chewing, she must have been struggling to ask why I’d written that clause.
Before she could question me, I decided to explain kindly so she could chew slowly.
“Looks like you have a tendency to be a pushover. If you keep putting others before yourself and helping everyone, when will you ever stand on your own?”
Of course, this was just an impromptu excuse.
Vigdis’s talent in swordsmanship wasn’t so weak that helping others would slow her growth.
Besides, she wasn’t even a pushover who couldn’t manage herself.
So it was no surprise her expression turned to one of bewilderment.
“Why would you misunderstand me so badly…?”
“Did I misunderstand? Then you shouldn’t mind signing even with this clause.”
I brushed off her doubt and handed back the contract and pen.
Maybe because she was no longer wary, despite the new clause, Vigdis didn’t hesitate or agonize over it but signed immediately.
“If the other person can’t be trusted, they won’t overlook even the smallest detail. But once trust begins, they stop doubting.”
She might not be a pushover who helplessly helps everyone, but she could be one of a different kind.
At least clause 6 would limit her pushover tendencies within her capacity.
“I need one copy of the contract too. Write the same content in your handwriting and sign it, then give it to me. If I have a contract in your handwriting, I can’t add or alter clauses without your consent.”
“You’re thorough.”
“It’s a contract.”
I was mimicking Karvald Austri’s handwriting, but Vigdis had no idea.
If anyone reading this thinks I’m trying to tamper with the contract, I’m not.
In case someday Vigdis says, “We don’t have to break the engagement, right?” and tears up the contract I gave her, that would be troublesome.
I just want to prevent such a situation in advance by keeping a copy.
“But about clause 4—do you really need it? Not talking to me first or calling me somewhere sounds inconvenient.”
“What if I remove it and then start obsessing over you again?
Clause 3 means I can’t stop you from making friends, but I can still show up unannounced and pry into your private life or drag you around. Is that okay?”
“Ah…”
‘Maybe she’s starting to realize that Karvald could easily do such a thing.’
Vigdis hastily began copying the entire contract including clause 4.
Watching her, I realized now was the perfect time to say something important I had to get off my chest.
“You said you hate this, but you’re the one who said you’d regularly meet to teach me swordsmanship. What if I grow too attached and want to own you?”
“…!!”
Apparently, she hadn’t even considered that possibility.
That’s why she was a pushover.
“How about looking in the mirror every morning and reciting clause 6 to remind yourself? So you don’t forget and go back to being a pushover after the contract expires.”
“Are you… making fun of me?”
“No, I’m warning you. You seem to have already forgotten what kind of person I am.”
I said this, locking eyes with her stunned face, speaking each word clearly:
“You can teach swordsmanship, but you should avoid becoming close friends with me if you don’t want to suffer from my obsession again.”
Adding clause 6 provided at least a minimal defense, but it’d still be better if Vigdis didn’t get emotionally attached.
I was trying to get her to keep her distance from me.
‘Such a crazy dog, so embarrassing…!’
The default tone of this possessed persona was cringe-worthy enough, but combined with this content, it was truly mortifying.
So much so that even those watching beyond the fourth wall would feel secondhand embarrassment.
“Aaaargh…”
Even Yor seemed to be writhing in shame, twisting its long body like a pretzel.
I wanted to twist my own body with my familiar too, but I summoned superhuman patience and managed to keep a serious expression.
“Is the contract still not done?”
“J-just a moment…! I just need to sign!”
Nervous and tense, Vigdis quickly finished signing the second time and handed me the contract written in her handwriting.
I added the possessed persona’s signature and tossed it to Yor.
Only then did Yor untangle and place the contract inside the orb.
“Now that the contract is complete, I’ll give you a commemorative gift.”
“A gift too…?”
Vigdis looked at the orb with curious eyes, then shifted her gaze to me and asked.
But somehow, I could detect disbelief in her eyes.
No need to ask why—she explained herself.
“You called me a pushover, yet you prepared a reward and even brought a gift…”
“This is the key to the private training ground. Train hard, master swordsmanship quickly, and escape the family. That way, you can break the engagement. I prepared this because it benefits me, so don’t misunderstand it as unwarranted kindness.”
I tossed the key to Vigdis as I spoke, returning her pushover treatment.
For reference, this isn’t the training ground key I use.
It’s a separate one prepared just for Vigdis.
‘And I prepared one for Reysir too. If he drops out, maybe improving a bit will help us keep at least one comrade… When should I give that to him?’
Anyway, I threw the key thinking Vigdis’s reflexes would catch it.
As expected, she easily snatched the flying key, muttering to herself:
“If only she fixed that attitude, many people would like her…”
I want to change that damn attitude too, but I have to maintain Karvald Austri’s original character.
It’s also the perfect tone to keep annoying people who act friendly at bay.
Though Reysir and Vigdis are hard to shake off.
“Since we’re done, get out quickly.”
I sighed deeply, waving my hand to shoo Vigdis away.
But she didn’t move as I wished.
“Before I go, there’s something I want to ask.”
“Then ask quickly.”
“I’ve actually been curious since receiving the contract. Why does Karvald assume the condition ‘when I’ve established a foundation to be independent from the family’? Do you really think it’s possible for me to stand on my own power, not through marriage or transferring to another family…?”
‘So Vigdis signed the contract even while doubting that possibility?’
‘Isn’t that a scam?’ I want to argue, but I was the one who wrote the contract clauses.
Vigdis simply doesn’t know her own potential.
From a result-oriented perspective, it’s not really a scam.
“I understand now. Karvald, you believe I can succeed through swordsmanship?”
“Yes.”
“But as you know, I started learning late and am far behind others my age… I heard some students start before they’re even ten. Still, do you really think I can do it?”
“What does starting late matter? You learn much faster and will eventually surpass them all.”
I can say this because I know the outcome, but Vigdis had just barely grasped the basics of swordsmanship, so it was natural for her to feel anxious.
However, offering kind words wouldn’t suit Karvald’s character.
So I clicked my tongue with dissatisfaction and snapped:
“If you have time for useless worries like that, go swing your sword one more time at the training grounds. Don’t you think that’s a waste of time?”
“If only you hadn’t added that last part, I would’ve been truly touched deep down.”
I told her not to say that.
Since I achieved my goal, I wasn’t disappointed but quite satisfied.