30 Years after Reincarnation, it turns out to be a Romance Fantasy Novel

The feeling of unease came the moment he examined the cross-section of the bronze statue.
…There are no signs of melting?

Bronze, after all, was a metal.
To shape it, one would first need to melt it at extremely high temperatures.
Yet, there were no visible traces of that process here.
Instead, what he saw was—
…It was carved?

It looked as though it had been sculpted with a chisel.
No… it wasn’t done with a chisel.
Then what was used?

…A thin blade?
The cross-section of the bronze statue bore faint, telltale marks.
And Ihan recognized those marks.
They were unmistakably the kind of scars left by a rapier or another similarly thin, piercing sword.

How could he be so sure?
Because I’ve seen people get sliced like that before.
During his time as a mercenary, he had encountered victims who had their flesh cut in just such a manner.
He had also personally been on the receiving end of such an attack.

(Though, in the end, the bastard who did it had died by his hand.)
Regardless, Ihan’s experience and knowledge made it easy for him to deduce that the statue had been sculpted entirely with a rapier.
And the moment he was certain—

This is monstrous.
It was only natural for him to be filled with awe.
I suppose if I applied enough grip strength, I could condense metal and forcibly shape it, or maybe I could use sword energy to carve it out.

That much was conceivable.
But that would only be a brute-force solution.
It would never produce something as natural and flawless as this.
This wasn’t done with sword energy. It was just… cut.
As if slicing through tofu.
Or molding clay.

This wasn’t just an absurd display of skill.
This was the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
“……”
Clink.

Ihan placed his hand on his sword.
He was testing something.
Would his blade be able to block a strike from a swordsman who could perform such a feat?

…Impossible.
No, it was out of the question.
If someone of that caliber were to attack him, blocking wasn’t an option.
He would have to dodge.
…But.

Hmm. I might be able to take a hit without dying…
—Ihan suddenly found himself wanting to experience that swordplay firsthand.
*

*
*
After passing through the town, they finally arrived at the Offen estate.

Unlike most noble residences—usually isolated within vast forests, surrounded by sprawling gardens—
the Offen estate was located within the city.
And despite being the home of one of the most powerful noble families, it was shockingly modest in scale.
Rather than an extravagant mansion, it resembled a massive dojo—a training ground, first and foremost.

Just from its structure alone, it was evident that the House of Offen stood apart from other noble families.
And yet—
“You have arrived! Kunta welcomes guests!”

“…?”
“If you need anything, just say the word! Kunta will bring it to you and guide you!”
“…K-Kunta? What are you doing here?”

“I am practicing social skills! Kunta is earning allowance at Arno’s house!”
“???”
A barbarian acting as a servant in a noble estate.
At this point, it wasn’t just unusual—
It was downright bizarre.

“…Didn’t you already receive a generous stipend as a foreign exchange student?”
Ihan, wary that this might be a case of noble exploitation, placed a firm hand on Arno’s shoulder.
“Confess now and atone for your sins, little wolf. I don’t want to have to arrest my own disciple.”

“Haa, is that my new nickname now? …I can see the misunderstanding, but I assure you, it’s a real misunderstanding. Kunta personally asked me for a job.”
“…Why?”
“He said he spent all his allowance.”

“…Huh?”
“He used all of it to buy books and food to send back to his homeland. He wanted to help support his people.”
“…Oh.”

Ihan let out a small sound of admiration and looked at Kunta.
The innocent-looking black panther of a man.
So he sent them books, huh?
This guy may act like a fool, but when no one’s watching, he’s the type to read self-improvement books.

As expected of the representative foreign exchange student from the barbarians.
It seemed like he had sent back what would be most beneficial to his people.
“…That’s admirable, but you should at least keep some money for yourself.”

“Kunta is already reflecting on that! But Arno—no, the Young Master pays Kunta very well! So it is fine!”
“…Little wolf.”
“I never told him to call me that. He’s just copying what the other servants say. So please, stop looking at me like that….”

For a moment, Ihan seriously considered handing down a disciplinary lesson—
but seeing how distressed Arno looked, he figured the kid was telling the truth.
“Master, don’t you think you’re teasing him too much?”
“It’s just funny seeing his reactions.”

Levi, the only one who recognized that Ihan was deliberately messing with Arno, whispered playfully.
Ihan, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Then—
“Young Master, you have returned.”

A maid appeared from behind Kunta, approaching them.
Arno greeted her with familiarity.
“It’s been a while, Elsa. I’m glad to see you in good health.”

“I am always healthy. I will remain so until I see your grandchildren, Young Master, hoho.”
“…Hmm.”
She looked like she had just passed her forties.

But from the streaks of gray in her hair, it was clear she had endured hardships in her youth.
That said—
She did not look weak.
Her eyes were sharp, her posture upright.
And the air around her exuded strength.

A swordswoman.
Yes. This black-uniformed maid was undoubtedly a former warrior.
“Instructor, let me introduce you. This is Elsa. She was my personal tutor and etiquette instructor when I was a child. She now serves as the head maid of our household, but in her younger days, she was a famed female swordsman.”

“Young Master, you flatter me.”
That’s not flattery. She was probably really famous.
It’s obvious just by looking at her.
If you put a sword in her hands, she’d probably be stronger than my cadets.
She might even be on par with Blackdog.

Wow. With that level of skill, why didn’t she become a knight?
Maybe she didn’t want to be tied down by the restrictions of knighthood?
Ihan had known plenty of female mercenaries in his past life.

Many of them had been skilled enough to become knights—
but they had chosen not to, preferring freedom over the title and status that knighthood offered.
She’s probably the same.
And just as he finished his speculation, Elsa spoke with a gentle smile.

“Are you finished chatting? Then allow me to escort you inside the estate.”
“…You? Shouldn’t the head maid be too busy for this?”
“You are not just any guest—you are his guest. It is only proper that I escort you personally.”

“…Ah.”
Ihan reached into his coat and pulled something out.
A dagger.

He had jokingly told Arno that this was a free pass to the estate.
But now, looking at Elsa’s reaction—
It really is a free pass.

***
“Instructor, if you go that way, there’s a large training ground. Everyone fights with real swords!”
“With real swords?”

“Yes! Everyone bleeds, but they still laugh.”
“Hmm….”
“…Kunta, please don’t make my family sound so barbaric.”

“I only spoke facts.”
“……”
Kunta probably meant that the Offen family didn’t shy away from practical, real-combat sparring.

After all, swordsmanship wasn’t something that could improve just by swinging a sword aimlessly.
“Hm. Maybe I should have my cadets start training with real swords too.”
“M-Master?”

“I’m joking.”
“…I don’t think you are.”
Even while joking around with his disciples, Ihan’s gaze was constantly moving, scanning his surroundings.

The training swordsmen, the maids, the servants—
They’re all skilled.
Even though they weren’t knights, everyone here had genuine ability.

Then, he recalled a peculiar fact—
The Offen family had no personal knight order.
Most prestigious noble families had their own private knights.
It was strange that the House of Offen had none.
…Or maybe they don’t have a knight order because they don’t need one.

If the servants, trainees, and disciples of the household were already skilled warriors, then there was no need to form an official knight order.
Moreover, most of the dojos in the region were already loyal to this family.
If they truly wanted to, they could gather those dojos and raise not just a small force—but an entire division of soldiers.

Is this family secretly on par with the great noble houses?
A family that simply hid its true strength—
That was the impression Ihan was getting.

Just as he was silently admiring the Offen family—
Creaaak.
The sound of wheels turning.

“—Do we have guests?”
“……”
“Haha, my apologies. I should have come to greet you properly, but as you can see, I’m in this state.”

“…Not at all. I should be the one apologizing for barging in uninvited.”
“Haha, that’s quite a considerate thing to say.”
The man before him—

Resembling a more mature version of Arno, though perhaps it was more accurate to say that Arno resembled him—
A strikingly handsome man, who looked like an older version of Arno after a decade of aging.
And he was sitting in a wheelchair.

“…Father.”
“Arno, it’s been a while. I’ve missed seeing you.”
“…Saying that makes me feel like an unfilial son, coming home so rarely. But you’re the one who never shows your face, even when you’re busy.”

“Haha! You have a point!”
At first glance, the man’s delicate features and wheelchair-bound state made him seem frail.
But his booming, carefree laughter completely shattered that image.

This wasn’t the forced bravado of a man trying to appear strong.
This was his true nature.
Arno, looking a bit embarrassed, hesitated before making introductions.

“Instructor, this is my father.”
“The name’s Iliad. My legs might be useless, but I’m still the head of the House of Offen.”
“F-Father…”

“Haha, it’s a joke! Laugh!”
“……”
…Where exactly was he supposed to laugh?

If I laugh here, I’m doomed.
Ihan hadn’t even known the man for a full minute, so he couldn’t say for sure what kind of person he was.
But one thing was clear—

This guy should not be making jokes like that.
If Ihan played along, he might as well bury his own social reputation.