Chapter 92: The Blade of Adaptability

A week had passed.

A letter arrived at the Imperial Palace.

“Mmm.”

Emperor Beltar read the letter with a serious expression.

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

Empress Amanda had come to visit his office.

“It’s from Rohan, that rascal…”

“…!”

At the mention of Rohan’s name from Beltar’s lips, Amanda caught her breath.

“D-did something happen?”

A cold dread seized her.

Her son had set out in search of Cajin Fabian, and she feared something terrible might have happened along the way.

But it was a needless worry.

“He says he’ll stay in the North for a while before returning.”

“Ha, I was so startled, Your Majesty.”

Amanda let out a sigh of relief, pressing her hand to her chest.

“And he says that when he comes back, he’ll be bringing some distinguished guests with him, so we should be prepared.”

“Distinguished guests? Who could that be?”

“Well…”

He didn’t know who they were, but since Rohan made a point of mentioning it, they were clearly no ordinary visitors.

“He also says he’s still looking for Cajin Fabian’s whereabouts.”

“Just where could that man have disappeared to?”

Rohan hadn’t bothered with a long-winded explanation about how Cajin had slipped away after suffering a critical blow.

Unaware of this, the two of them still believed Cajin’s whereabouts to be a complete mystery.

“And he’s added a postscript, asking permission for Sir Drake to take an extended leave.”

“But shouldn’t the Captain of the Vertion Knights avoid being away for too long?”

“Mmm, that’s true.”

Beltar scratched his temple.

“But we’ve already put down the traitors, and there’s no pressing need for the knights right now, so it’s not entirely out of the question.”

He smiled faintly.

“He’s hardly taken a real break while guarding my side all this time. If Sir Drake is with Rohan, there’s little risk, is there? It might be good to let him take a long vacation this time.”

“You’re right! Sir Drake gets to enjoy a break, and Rohan’s safety is assured. What a wonderful idea, Your Majesty.”

Amanda smiled happily, and Beltar felt glad as well.

These days, Amanda often spent time with Beltar like this.

She was on good terms with Empress Sherilda too, and was growing closer with her daughter, Isabel.

This had been possible for two reasons: first, Amanda never infringed on Sherilda’s unique authority.

And second, Sherilda harbored no jealousy toward the two of them.

Beltar and Sherilda’s marriage had always been a political arrangement; there was no affection between them from the start.

If anything, Sherilda seemed to welcome Amanda’s friendliness.

“Still, I was hoping to help Rohan settle down a bit when he returned. Looks like it’ll take a bit longer than expected.”

“The Crown Prince is broadening his horizons in the world. If you ask me, I think that’s a good thing.”

Amanda laughed softly.

“Besides, Your Majesty is still healthy. And you’ll stay that way for a long time yet.”

“Ahem.”

Given how frail he’d been recently, Amanda’s words struck a chord with Beltar.

“I’ll… make sure to look after my health from now on.”

“I heard Eirene’s found some new medicinal herbs lately…”

“I’ll have to support her research as well, ahem!”

After falling out with the beloved Amanda and losing his eldest son, Joshua, Beltar had been utterly devastated.

The shock and stress of that time had brought on his illness.

But afterwards, Amanda had scolded him terribly.

She’d demanded how he could even think of giving up and leaving, when he still had such young children left behind.

Had he always been so irresponsible?

Because of that, Beltar had since been steadily and faithfully receiving treatment from Eirene.

A self-proclaimed “money grubber” (?), she’d done her job thoroughly for every coin she received, and had now established a place in the Imperial Medical Department.

With the help of the imperial coffers, she could finally research the poison treatments she’d always dreamed of.

For her, it was the chance of a lifetime.

“Anyway.”

Amanda stood and moved behind Beltar.

She gently massaged his shoulders with her delicate hands as she spoke.

“Our Crown Prince will manage just fine on his own, so focus on your health, Your Majesty. You’ve been so busy with state affairs lately you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I understand.”

Even now, his desk was piled high with documents.

“My insomnia’s gotten worse lately… Maybe it’s because I sleep alone. I wish someone would keep me company at night…”

“Oh, Your Majesty!”

The two of them laughed affectionately, their voices filling the office.

---

In the cold northern wind, a man’s shouts echoed.

From dawn, the training grounds of Malta Castle in the North were bustling.

Thwack!

In the icy air, two wooden swords collided with a crisp sound.

A boy hurled himself forward, pouring all his strength into the charge.

“Hyaah!”

Thunk!

“This won’t cut it. If you attack head-on without any finesse, your opponent will soon spot your weakness.”

“Hup!”

Caught off guard by the sudden counterattack, the boy raised his head, only to end up falling on his backside.

“If I’d really meant it just now, I could have killed you, Your Highness.”

“Phew…”

The boy—Rohan—shook the sweat from his hair and got to his feet.

“Let’s go again.”

Whoosh, swish, smack!

The two wooden swords resumed their silent conversation.

“Ugh!”

“If you lack strength, you must make up for it with skill.”

“Grgh.”

At the clash of swords, Rohan’s wrists trembled.

Drake’s voice was as cold and firm as the northern winter wind.

His massive frame radiated a commanding presence, even beneath his thick military coat.

“Allow me to show you something interesting.”

Drake withdrew his sword and strode to the center of the training ground.

Frost crunched under each of his steps.

“It’s true you started quite late, so catching up is difficult.”

He lowered his body.

“But that doesn’t mean there are no options.”

His eyes gleamed.

Tap-taptap!

Like a beast, he dashed toward Rohan, who gripped his sword in anticipation.

Shhhk!

Suddenly, Drake twisted his hips and slid across the ground.

One hand braced against the earth, the other holding his sword.

Swoosh!

With incredible speed, his blade grazed Rohan’s flank.

“Whoa.”

Rohan looked up in surprise, and Drake rose with a grin.

“The ground’s icy, so instead of running, I deliberately chose to slide. It’s harder to control, but you gain momentum—and your blade becomes fiercer.”

“I see.”

Rohan nodded, eyes wide.

“If you want to fight on ice, you must first learn how to slide.”

Drake tapped the training ground with his wooden sword.

The frost-laden earth rang hard beneath the blow.

“If you’re fighting in a forest, you must know how to use the terrain to your advantage.”

“…!”

Only then did Rohan realize what Drake was getting at.

“If you fight indoors, everything around you could become a weapon in your favor.”

“Indeed, that makes sense.”

Rohan licked his dry lips.

Starting swordsmanship so late.

What he needed most wasn’t just fundamentals—it was adaptability.

“Your Highness, you’re faster at reading and analyzing situations than swordsmen like us, who only know how to swing a blade. If you leverage that strength, you’ll be able to turn even unfavorable battles to your favor.”

“I appreciate your faith in me.”

Rohan thanked Drake, his instructor.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, then.”

Drake saluted and left the training ground.

“Whew.”

Rohan plopped down on the cold ground.

“Who knew using your body was this tough…”

Rohan was staying in the North for sword training.

Back when he fought the Dark World Tree, he had sworn that he would learn the sword after leaving that place.

And now, he was keeping that promise.

“At least I kept up with physical training, thank goodness.”

While Rohan was mumbling to himself—

“Most princes receive early sword training from childhood, but Your Highness is a special case, so of course it’s hard.”

“Ah, Duke Malta.”

The Duke of Malta came over and sat beside him.

“In the North, there’s a saying: ‘If you want to survive, fight like the northern blizzard—unpredictable, and fierce to the point of cruelty.’”

He grinned.

“I saw you passing by and thought I’d stop in. How’s your training?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s fun.”

Rohan swung his wooden sword as he spoke.

“With the best teachers gathered here, when will I ever get another chance like this?”

“Haha, that’s certainly true.”

The North specialized in warfare.

There were many excellent warriors here, and all were well disposed toward Rohan, eager to teach him anything they could.

Drake, on leave from his liege, was staying here, overseeing Rohan’s basics every morning.

In the afternoon, Rohan trained swordsmanship with the northern warriors, and in the evening, he exercised with Martin.

This had been going on for three months now.

“How’s trade with Silvaren progressing?”

“It’s going well. We’ve picked one of Silvaren’s specialties, and it looks like we’ll start trading next week.”

“Good to hear.”

If they could monopolize trade with Silvaren, the North’s position would be greatly strengthened.

“To be honest, Silvaren has given us so much help it’s almost overwhelming. Thanks to them, all the kidnapped subjects have returned and are now healthy…”

Nass had been generous to the North.

The Duke of Malta was a bit dazed by it all, but from Rohan’s perspective—knowing the circumstances—it was only natural for Nass to help.

‘It all started with Yggdrasil, after all.’

The Dark World Tree was, in the end, a remnant of Yggdrasil’s shadow.

The Elphyrians who worshipped the World Tree had a duty to take responsibility for the seeds Yggdrasil had sown.

So they helped heal the affected northern residents.

Since the injuries were magical, not physical, this was for the best.

The Duke of Malta rose.

“In any case, Your Highness, you’ll need to depart early tomorrow morning. It would be best for you to rest today.”

Rohan nodded and got up.

As he left the training grounds, he took a breath of the cold northern air.

‘Tomorrow’s my last day here.’

“I’ve received so much help during my stay.”

“Not at all. If anything, Your Highness has bestowed a great gift upon the North.”

The Duke of Malta smiled, thinking of the changes the new trade route with Silvaren would bring.

As the two walked toward the keep, Rohan’s thoughts turned inward.

‘I’ll be returning to the Imperial Capital tomorrow. There’s much to report to Father…’

He especially needed to deliver a warning about the Dark World Tree. That the darkness still existed, and hadn’t been completely eradicated.

And… to prepare for it, he had to secure his place.

That is, in the capital itself.

“Once you return, the whole capital will be in an uproar.”

The Duke of Malta’s smile deepened.