Shilona was the first person Dien had ever seen play a beautiful melody with a sword. The martial prowess he had witnessed firsthand was enough to make his jaw drop.
After the recent incident with the assassin, Dien had felt deep in his bones that the sword was often closer than the law. Because of that, he wanted to learn swordsmanship as soon as possible.
And if he was going to learn, it was only natural to learn from the most outstanding swordsman available.
“No.”
The answer to his request came incredibly fast.
“How cold.”
Dien nodded at Shilona’s firm gaze. Honestly, it was an answer he had expected to some extent. It was the nature of superior techniques to be difficult to pass on.
Furthermore, the swordsmanship she had been practicing since childhood was the Saint Marca Swordsmanship, recorded in the secret manuals held by the Holy See.
Created by Archangel Michael, the Saint Marca Swordsmanship was a secret among secrets, passed down only to the Holy Knights within the Holy See.
Just then, Nue knocked on the door and entered.
“Young Master. An investigator from the Royal Army’s Marshal Office is here regarding the undead incident.”
“From the Marshal’s Office?”
“Yes!”
“Tell them to come in.”
“W—Wait!”
At the mention of the Marshal’s Office, Shilona hurriedly interrupted Dien.
“Hmm?”
Dien turned to look at her in surprise. Her pupils were shaking as if an earthquake had struck.
‘I can’t let my identity be revealed yet.’
The identity of the Apostle of God remained unknown. The only way to find the Apostle—the Messenger of God—was to trace the fluctuations of the divine power they emitted.
In other words, if the Apostle did not manifest the Power of Tuning, tracking them was impossible.
Shilona had to remain in Delos until she could sense those divine fluctuations again.
“Don’t call them in!” Shilona shouted urgently.
If the investigator entered, they would naturally demand to know her identity. And if it were revealed that she was the Saintess of the Holy Empire, King Lonas of Delos would surely come running barefoot to greet her.
The capital would be in an uproar, and the sharp-witted devil’s kin would realize that an Apostle of God was in Delos. There was only one reason for the Saintess of the Holy Empire to stay in Delos.
‘Ugh… what should I do?’
Shilona swallowed hard. Everything she had done to elude the eyes of the devil was at risk of being for naught.
She had to encounter the Apostle before the monsters did, fulfilling the great task of bringing them to the Holy See.
“Why?” Dien asked.
“Just… don’t call them in yet!”
“I’m asking why…”
Looking at the situation, it seemed Shilona was reluctant to see the investigator. True, she hadn’t even revealed her identity to him, let alone an official.
But unless she was a foreign spy, why would a noble on a pilgrimage feel the need to hide her identity so strictly?
Actually, being a spy didn’t make sense either. If she were a spy, she would have fled to avoid the monsters. There was no reason for a foreign agent to cause a commotion in the heart of the capital and draw attention to themselves.
‘If that’s the case, it means she has an unavoidable reason to hide her identity…’
In that moment, a lightbulb went off in Dien’s head. His mind raced as a smirk slowly began to spread across his lips.
“Swordsmanship.”
“What?”
“Teach it to me. Your swordsmanship.”
“I clearly refused that!”
In response to Shilona’s answer, Dien opened the door and called out to Nue.
“Nue! Tell the investigators to come in!”
Shilona’s face turned pale at Dien’s sudden move.
“Y—You!”
“It’s not too late. Are you going to teach me or not?”
“Ugh.”
“Room and board provided, no chores. I’ll also guarantee you free access to the House of Portran outside of lesson hours. I’ll even give you an allowance if you want. From the look of it, you don’t seem to have anywhere else to stay…”
As Dien finished speaking, the sound of heavy footsteps approached the door.
Shilona tried to get up, thinking she had to escape somehow, but her body wouldn’t listen.
“It’s no use. You have broken ribs; even walking will be difficult.”
“Kh.”
While Shilona struggled to get out of bed, Dien shook his head. Finally, the investigator entered the room.
“Greetings, Young Master.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Investigator.”
“I am only just now meeting the famous Young Master Dien. You must be having a hard time under Count Persian.”
“Hahaha. Not at all. It’s a great opportunity for me.”
Dien smiled as he shook the investigator’s hand. Shortly after, the investigator’s gaze turned toward Shilona, who was lying in bed.
“Is this the person who collapsed after being attacked by the undead?”
“Ah, that…”
Dien trailed off and looked at Shilona.
She closed her eyes and bit her lip under his gaze. Eventually, she gave a small nod. It was her way of agreeing to teach him swordsmanship.
“Hahaha!”
Dien let out a hearty laugh of satisfaction.
“Why are you laughing…?”
The investigator looked at Dien’s sudden laughter with confusion.
“Ah, Investigator, that girl has nothing to do with the undead incident. I was the only witness to that, so you only need to speak with me.”
“Eh? Then why is she injured…?” the investigator asked, staring at the bandages wrapped around Shilona’s body.
“Oh! It’s nothing. She’s a new maid in our family, but she clumsily tumbled down the stairs and got hurt. Right in front of my eyes.”
“Ah…”
The investigators scratched their heads awkwardly at Dien’s explanation.
“I see.”
“Goodness! Be more careful from now on. Understood?”
Dien laughed playfully and flicked Shilona’s forehead.
“You…!”
Shilona clenched her fists, her hands trembling. Had she ever been flicked on the forehead in her entire life?
In an instant, she had gone from the Saintess of the Holy Empire to a maid of the House of Portran. She could only swallow her boiling rage, unable to react to Dien’s antics.
“Don’t cause any more trouble!”
Dien flicked her forehead again, remembering her previously defiant attitude.
‘Hmph… make sure you keep the promise you just made!’
“Hurry up and answer!”
Dien was barely holding back his laughter, while Shilona’s lips trembled with indignation.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
At her reply, the corners of Dien’s mouth turned up toward the sky.
“Let’s go outside to talk.”
Dien led the investigator out. He wore a deep smile, satisfied that he had secured an excellent swordsmanship master.
***
The blowing wind was quite chilly. Before he knew it, the weather had shifted from the cusp of summer and autumn to the brink of autumn and winter.
As the temperature dropped, frost began to form on the windows, and the servants started pulling thick clothes and blankets out of storage.
Dien tightened his clothes as he rose from his bed.
“Ugh…”
His muscles screamed in protest. Every day, he had been doing mountain runs along the outer castle walls, followed by high-intensity bodyweight exercises.
Since Shilona was still unable to move due to her injuries, he wanted to build up his basic physical strength before starting proper swordsmanship lessons.
“Nue… I’m going out for physical training…”
Even though he exercised every day, he felt so anxious that he couldn’t stand it if he skipped even a single day.
“Yes! Have a safe trip!”
As his solo outings became frequent, Nue no longer worried about the devil’s curse and didn’t insist on following him.
“Phew.”
Dien began his grueling mountain run. Though his body shivered in the chilly autumn wind, thick beads of sweat soon poured down to his chin.
His mind felt refreshed, and his heart felt light.
“Hah.”
Had he finally grown accustomed to the once-exhausting run? Feeling a surge of energy, Dien increased his pace even further on the road back to the mansion.
***
After the run, he did free exercises in the mansion’s front yard. Today, Dien decided to pick up a sword instead of doing bodyweight exercises.
Unlike noble families who were granted territory, the House of Portran did not maintain private soldiers. Since the guards maintained order within the capital, there was no reason for a family of administrative officials to have private troops. Consequently, there was no armory within the estate, and naturally, no training ground. However, Dien didn’t find this inconvenient. He simply devoted himself to training with whatever was available.
Dien walked to a small clearing and picked up a single sword. It was a shabby, faded blade. This was the only sword that existed in the House of Portran. Since all nobles had to wear heavy armor and enter the palace during national crises or wars, Oren had purchased it from a weapon shop just for appearances.
Still, it was better than nothing.
Dien held the sword and tried to recall the “melody” he had heard from Shilona.
“Like this, here…”
Even if his footwork was only slightly off, he heard a ghostly dissonance in his ears.
“Let’s try one more time.”
He was undergoing a lot of trial and error to mimic her melody.
He could mimic the introduction of the piece to some extent, but he couldn’t recreate the deep emotion he had felt from her.
“You’re working hard.”
Shilona’s voice came from behind him.
“Aren’t you pushing yourself?”
Dien asked cautiously as Shilona approached him, holding her left waist. Her bones had still not fully mended.
“It was stifling staying in the room…”
“Even so, I wish you’d stay still in your room… You need to recover quickly so you can look at my swordsmanship.”
At Dien’s words, Shilona’s expression soured. Although she had chosen this out of necessity, she was still not pleased with the fact that she had to pass her swordsmanship on to Dien.
“Why don’t you fix that expression?”
“Whew… As I said before, it would be best if you didn’t ask anything about the swordsmanship you’re going to learn! Not about its roots, nor its name!”
“Let’s not talk about things that are already settled.”
“You…!”
In exchange for granting him the swordsmanship, she had added several contract conditions.
First was not to ask the name of the style. The swordsmanship one used was like a swordsman’s identity. Furthermore, swordsmen who used the same style were considered fellow disciples or seniors and juniors.
But for Dien, it was merely swordsmanship for self-defense. He wasn’t curious at all about the identity of the style.
“It must never be discovered!”
For Shilona, however, it was a more important issue than anything else. If someone recognized the style or if a deep expert in swordsmanship realized its identity, it would only be a matter of time before her own identity was exposed.
She intended to teach him exactly enough swordsmanship to protect himself.
Second, he had to help her disguise herself as a commoner of Delos. He also had to ensure the servants of the House of Portran kept their mouths shut so that word about her wouldn’t leak out. He had accepted this on the condition that she would not act in a way that harmed the kingdom or his family.
Lastly, he was not to disturb her outside of lesson hours. Honestly, this was what he wanted too. How exhausting would his day be if he had to see her arrogant attitude outside of training?
Dien, lost in thought, glanced at Shilona and spoke.
“Since you’re out, why don’t you take a look at my swordsmanship?”
“Didn’t you just tell me to rest?”
“If you were going to rest, you should have stayed inside. If you aren’t going to teach me, just go back in.”
“You!”
After saying that, Dien looked away from Shilona and concentrated on swinging the sword.
Shilona, who looked like she might go back inside at any moment, quietly watched Dien’s movements. After a short while, she felt a strange sense of deja vu.
Soon, realizing the source of that deja vu, Shilona let out a cry of shock.
“You! H—How did you do that!”
Her words were sudden.
Dien looked at her with an awkward expression.
“That movement just now! Where did you learn it! *Cough! Cough!*”
As she shouted, she clutched her ribs and frowned from the sudden surge of pain. Even shouting was painful for her.
However, her sharp eyes remained fixed on Dien.
“I just followed the movement you did last time.”
“What… did you say?”
The answer was so absurd that disbelief filled her eyes as she looked at him.
“You followed that after seeing it once?”
Dien answered with silence. Then, Shilona’s eyes began to tremble.
Saint Marca Swordsmanship differed in essence from generally known swordsmanship. Everything from the footwork to the way the blade was held was unique and profound, requiring meticulous teaching from a master.
Yet Dien was manifesting that Saint Marca Swordsmanship to a point that could almost be called perfect.
‘Good God… Why did Lord Panthera give such talent to a child of an administrative family instead of a member of the Holy Knights…’
Dien chuckled at the sight of Shilona clutching her head and muttering incomprehensible things.
“I guess my swordsmanship was pretty good?”
But Shilona didn’t even answer; she just turned and went back into the mansion.
Her face, as she walked away, was a mixture of absurdity and futility.
“Sigh… What an obnoxious genius…”
Even after going into her room, Shilona couldn’t help but watch Dien’s movements intently through the window.