“Ah, um, uh, sorry. I didn’t know anything and just overreacted. It’s a bad habit… I’m just a fool who overuses modifiers and messed up, so please just overlook it…”
“No, no, you didn’t make any mistake. Just tell me one thing at a time.”
I kept reassuring Amin, who looked flustered as if she thought she’d made a mistake, and she repeated what she said earlier hesitantly.
She meant the distribution of power, how the mana or energy in her body all concentrated into a single line.
“Isn’t it different for normal people?”
“Ah, yes… Count Laward has already practiced swordsmanship for a long time, so it’s natural that you don’t really know what it feels like when an ordinary person swings a sword like me! I’ll show you! I roughly swing like this. Hmm, yap?”
Before I knew it, Amin fetched a wooden sword from the corner of the training ground, held it with both hands, and swung it from the middle stance.
With a whoosh, the sword sliced through the air in a clean arc.
Maybe because I was focusing consciously and observing carefully,
I roughly understood what Amin meant.
While swinging the sword, her body maintained a solid center.
She wasn’t simply swinging the sword with arm strength but using the muscles of her whole body.
But I don’t see Laward Gordem when I swing a sword—I only see a single line, the sword itself.
That must mean the power generated in my body scatters without a stable center.
Now that I think about it, the Duke also always told me my body balance was off.
Maybe this is the answer to that.
The “surface” the book talks about—perhaps it’s not the blade or the sword’s surface, but myself.
I focused on the faint sensation I’d been vaguely feeling and took my stance.
Not just paying attention to the enemy and my sword, but carefully checking even my body holding the sword.
I spread my feet comfortably at shoulder width and lowered my center of gravity.
I cut.
Helpfire traced a beautiful path through the air, clean and graceful—a line that was, if only slightly, closer to the one the Duke of Helpion used to swing.
That was the line.
It was done.
I knew instinctively.
The sword stroke I just made was the right answer, and I had to proceed a little further in this direction.
I looked at Amin, who was anxiously glancing around as if worried she had misspoken.
Seeing her like that, all my tension drained.
Had I become a little arrogant since arriving in the Squaret Duchy?
At Helpion Duchy, I’d been with great masters and even called a sage.
So I must have been deluding myself into thinking I was a real sage, or a swordsmanship master.
In truth, I’m just a person with a body worse than a mere apprentice Knight, who listens to her advice and looks for a path.
Now, Amin’s expression was probably similar to how the Duke or the Butler sees me.
What about the Duke and others then?
Did they look down on me for not being able to swing a sword?
No, that’s not it.
So I shouldn’t be like that either.
“Try swinging the sword.”
“Huh? I didn’t hear you well.”
“You said you wanted to learn swordsmanship. I’m not good at teaching by words… but I can do sparring.”
“Ah, yes! Thank you!”
Amin smiled brightly and swung the sword enthusiastically like a child.
Her skills improved frighteningly fast.
Literally frightening.
When we first sparred, she was a rookie barely able to draw a single line, but after only three days, her swordsmanship diversified, showing paint strokes or even more than two lines.
“By the way, Count, you’re amazing. I can feel my skills growing quickly. Talents from the Helpion Duchy really are something else!”
Even if she says that… how can I teach her if I don’t understand swords myself?
All I did was perfectly block Amin’s sword and lightly point out her weaknesses.
Showing weaknesses isn’t purely my skill but guided by the line.
And yet I still can’t maintain my body balance well, often slipping or staggering.
“Now, only you’re left, Count!”
“What?”
“The trainee Knights who started training with me are twenty. Ignoring the laziest and the slowest, I became the best in this area!”
“…And?”
“So now, I’ll beat you too and show you what it means to surpass the teacher!”
Hahaha, having big dreams like that isn’t bad.
Yeah. Beat your peers and become the best seed among the Knights.
In the future.
I later reflected on how carelessly I’d taken Amin’s words.
Ah, why must I live a life of constant self-reflection?
I felt there was no point in continuing interviews now.
I had already finished talking with most of the servants in the mansion.
Since their stories were mostly similar in broad strokes, going further felt meaningless.
Now was the time to organize, analyze, and judge the materials and information I’d collected.
And there was one capable person I could ask for advice.
“Senior.”
“Hello. Long time no see. Since you like the library, I thought you’d come more often.”
“Sorry, I was busy with work. But I’ll come more frequently from now on. Oh, and I enjoyed these books.”
This was Senior Giselle, famed as a genius since our days at Delphi Academy.
With such a capable person nearby, I couldn’t help but seek her advice.
I handed Senior Giselle Artie’s Diary.
“Was it interesting?”
“Yes. It helped a lot. There were stories I wanted to know.”
“Oh my, you’re interested in ancient history?”
“Not the whole thing, just ruins and artifacts.”
“Then shall I recommend similar books next?”
“Oh, that would be great. But Senior, I have something to ask first.”
“Ask away.”
I calmly told Senior Giselle about the things I’d experienced since arriving here.
She nodded slightly, listening quietly.
Then,
“So, you’re curious about why the conflict between civil officials and military officers happened and how to resolve it?”
“If we trace the start of the problem, yes.”
“Isn’t it easy? How about having a drink together?”
Senior Giselle’s suggestion was really unexpected.
“Count Laward is from Delphi Academy too, right? What did you do when you had group projects or joint critiques and disagreed?”
“Well…”
I recalled many past conflicts.
Until third year, before I got involved with Deon Craphy, I lived properly at the Academy.
I participated earnestly in group projects and critiques and fought quite a bit.
How did we resolve those fights?
Just as Senior Giselle said—by drinking.
“We drank ourselves silly, cursed at each other, grabbed collars, and fought.”
“And then?”
“Then we just went back to normal. We couldn’t become strangers over one fight.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled.
“You can’t become strangers here either. You’re both in the Squaret Duchy.”
“But the grudges between the two groups are so strong…”
“I’m mostly stuck in the library, so I don’t really know about such difficulties Laward talked about. But I can guess one thing. Maybe the civil officials and military officers haven’t really talked to each other much.”
“So, there’s no exchange between them?”
Senior Giselle’s words made sense.
“It’s hard to hate people you know. It’s been 15 years, right? The hatred must be greater because they don’t know each other.”
She seemed more certain as she spoke, organizing her thoughts as she went.
“People are selfish. To hate each other means they think they don’t need each other. If someone helps and benefits me, I try to look good in their eyes…”
Is that really true?
Senior Giselle tapped her chest lightly, as if asking me to trust her.
“It’s like a badly tangled necklace knot. To avoid breaking the necklace, you have to untie the knot one by one from the end. So try thinking simply about other problems too.”
“What problems?”
“That cute guy’s name was Lumpen Hound, right? You said he’s strong and causing problems.”
Calling Lumpen Hound “cute”—that’s a unique taste.
“Then just bring someone stronger.”
At Senior Giselle’s words, a place suddenly came to mind.
“From the Helpion Duchy?”
She silently nodded and looked at me.
“But wouldn’t that trouble the Duke? I’m also here for recuperation and he trusted me to assist Lady Titania…”
She shook her head as if my worries were useless.
“You’re worrying for no reason.”
“But…”
“I once read this passage in a book. To rise to a higher position, you can’t just teach and help those weaker than you—you have to know how to use people better than yourself.”
Using people better than yourself.
I understood the context but it didn’t seem easy.
“Isn’t that the kind of courage Laward needs? You can ask for help more boldly. You’re the Chief of Staff, right? If they sent a strong Knight, we should send a strong Knight too. You’re the one in command.”
“…”
“And one more thing. About the rumors. It’s not certain, but I think I know who started them.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but…”
Senior Giselle stared intently at me, counting on her fingers.
“I won’t say until I’m sure.”
Senior, after building up suspense, what kind of frustrating answer is that?
I looked exasperated, and Senior Giselle just smiled and continued.
“Did you know about the conflict within the Squaret Duchy before coming here?”
“No, I learned after I arrived.”
“That’s it. Amin said it was a joke at a drinking party. But jokes only work if both the teller and the listener understand the context.”
“To know the context well enough to joke about it… you must have been living with this conflict for a long time.”
“Insiders, especially those who have worked here a long time.”
That was a plausible guess.
The more trustworthy the people are, the easier it is to create strife.
“Senior is cautious to prevent suspicion from tearing the Squaret Duchy apart.”
“Others probably suspect at least that much. Did someone really spread malicious rumors? Or did a careless remark spread confusingly and embarrass everyone? Everyone’s tangled up in complicated thoughts, so they don’t talk about it.”
Having said that, Senior Giselle smiled calmly and looked at me.
“That’s my take.”
I bowed to her.
“Thank you, Senior. I’ll organize my thoughts.”
“Yeah. You said the book on relics was good, right? I’ll find one for you.”
“Oh, yes. Please.”
Senior Giselle got up and headed to a corner of the library.
I quietly mulled over everything she had said.
Each point was almost textbook, the kind of things anyone would first think of.
Maybe I had dismissed them before.
This matter was so tangled that I’d been too scared to even try a simple approach.
All my worries and concerns had buried me in a conspiracy-like story.
Senior Giselle’s simple possibilities pulled me out.
Clear and straightforward.
Maybe that’s why my mind felt a little clearer.
Just as I finished organizing my thoughts, Senior Giselle returned with two books.
“Senior.”
“Yes?”
“You do know about it, right?”
I noticed Senior was only 13 back at school, so how does she know so much about drinking culture?
She just chuckled softly and didn’t answer.