How to Live as a Swordmaster of the Enemy Nation

The Approaching War (2)

Leonyx and Amelia were fidgeting in the overheated atmosphere. The knights' duel unfolded meticulously before their eyes. They were itching to spar themselves.

"My strength is welling up. I really want to have a bout with that guy."

"As expected from you, Leonyx. I knew you'd say that."

In contrast, Kylas couldn't stop marveling as he watched the clash between red and blue mana.

"No matter how many times I see it, that red mana gives me goosebumps. It's fascinating."

Kylas, unable to close his mouth at the energy of the new students. Walter quietly asked Kylas,

"Do you know about that?"

At that, Kylas, looking puzzled, hesitated before asking Walter back.

"Hmm... What do you mean by 'that'?"

"The legend passed down in Arme since long ago."

"Is there such a legend? No, I've never heard of it."

Even Walter himself had only barely heard of the old rumor. Yet, to him, Kylas was the most cherished knight of his order. Wearing a mischievous expression, Walter shared it with Kylas.

"Lend me your ear."

Long ago, there was said to have been a prophecy. It foretold that, when the Arme Kingdom was on the brink of collapse, a swordsman wielding red mana would revive the nation.

According to the additional details, this man would stride across battlefields with a brother who used blue mana and defeat their enemies together.

However, even in the distant past, there had been swordsmen using red mana, and Arme was enjoying a golden age, so the prophecy was dismissed by the public and only passed down as rumor.

Now, seeing a swordsman using red mana, unheard of in modern times, right before his eyes, Walter couldn't help but wonder if the prophecy of the red mana swordsman rebuilding the nation referred to Gregory.

He also recognized that Arme's underlying strength was lacking compared to Blandi. The military was sure to be outmatched, but if Gregory continued to grow at this rate, the balance might shift.

"So that's the kind of story there was..."

"I only ever heard it as something my grandfather told me."

Having exchanged a brief conversation, Kylas and Walter turned their attention back to the match.

By then, dust had already covered their line of sight, and they couldn't see what was happening between Gregory and Ernest.

Kylas quickly drew his sword and swung the flat of the blade, sweeping away the dust.

Vwoom—

As their field of vision instantly cleared, Gregory was already pointing his sword at Ernest. Ernest was on his knees, regaining his senses. A clear defeat.

Walter watched Gregory with a meaningful expression. All he could do was watch the bout that had ended in the blink of an eye.

"It's already over. What a terrifying fellow."

***

There wasn't a single scratch on Gregory's body. At a glance, it may have looked like an even fight, but in reality, Ernest was being toyed with under Gregory's calculated control.

Ernest was startled by his younger brother's explosive growth. He had been hailed as the heir of the family, the one to inherit its legacy, and yet, before he knew it, his recently un-cursed brother had caught up with him in skill.

Many thoughts crossed Ernest's mind, but he kept his tone flat.

"You really got even stronger, huh."

"Of course...."

Gregory's companions ran over in concern. They worried for Ernest, but since he didn't have a scratch on him, he quickly brushed the dirt from his body and stood up.

"I'm fine. Don't worry, everyone."

Ernest reassured his companions. Only then did they sigh in relief and return to their places.

One thing was clear. Ernest must have had his reasons, but Gregory didn't ask.

His brother had just lost, after all; he didn't want to add to his humiliation.

Still, they needed to fight together in the war. Even small rifts could widen and eventually lead to their collapse.

"Gregory, can I have a word with you in private?"

"What is it?"

Gregory paused at the sudden, serious tone.

'Is he about to talk about what's been bothering him at this moment?'

Ernest gripped his sword tightly as if it would break, a fierce look in his eye, then stared at Gregory. A trace of long-held resentment was visible on his face.

Soon, Ernest whispered so only Gregory could hear.

"... Can you teach me...?"

"Teach you what?"

"Swordsmanship..."

It was unexpected. For the firstborn of a prestigious swordsmanship family to say that so easily? No, upon reflection, it was a powerful resolve. Gregory could be sure of it.

If he thought about it, it wasn't a lack of sword skill or talent; the outcome was simply because Ernest had been up against Gregory.

Besides, those words clearly must have been repeated in his heart many times before being spoken aloud.

To humble oneself before overwhelming skill and lower one's head to learn—it was the very sign of one's desire to overcome their limits. Gregory had always welcomed such people, even in his previous life, so he was sincerely pleased.

"Swordsmanship, huh..."

Ernest hesitated. His pride had already been worn to the bone. To admit that his previous promotion to a 4-star knight had been thanks to the lesson from Gregory during their last spar was difficult.

"It's just... because I lost..."

Admitting defeat sometimes amounts to disparaging one's own standing. It's an acknowledgment that, compared to the other, one fell short in every way. Thus, Ernest had become timid.

But there was no other way to experience rapid growth. It's hard to break through one's limits alone. Sometimes, even humiliating defeat becomes the greatest motivation, a shortcut to growth.

Such humility also prodded the strong to want to teach. It was almost amusing, but first he needed to ease that abject heart.

"Hmph, honestly, I don't mind someone being weak, but I hate to see someone knocked down and shrinking away just because they lost once."

Ernest snapped to attention at Gregory's dissatisfied response. Gregory spoke up.

"Right, now you're starting to look like a swordsman. What do you think is the reason you lost?"

"Hmm..."

Gregory anticipated Ernest's answer. It was a simple question. Ernest had the upper hand in brute force, but Gregory outmatched him technically.

Gregory was ready to lecture him for his weak spirit. Ernest continued,

"I let my guard down."

An unexpected, but refreshing response. It came from someone who had already stifled his ego.

"Oh ho... You're well aware, huh? What did I tell you during our last spar?"

"That your strength is too swayed by emotion...?"

"Good, you remembered."

Gregory slowly pointed out Ernest's flaws, from his stance to his mindset. Considering the prestige of his swordsmanship family, his swordsmanship itself was not lacking.

"Don't put all your strength into the sword. Grip the lower part and use it more flexibly."

"Y-yea."

Ernest felt it, even then. If Gregory continued to improve at this pace, he might one day threaten Hemingway himself, their father and the current head of the family.

Even brief conversations revealed the depth of his understanding of the sword.

Gregory had a similar thought. Watching Ernest absorb and apply the advice so naturally and quickly, he wondered if, had Ernest grown like this all along, they might have been equals, even in his previous life.

"Good, that's right. You're doing well. Practice like that."

"R-really? Am I doing it right?"

Changing an ingrained stance is difficult. But with Ernest, one pointer was enough for him to grasp the next ten. If only that mysterious knot inside his heart would unravel, that would be ideal.

Gregory planned to systematically develop the strength of his comrades. When one finished, he would call up another and begin pointing out their issues.

***

At about that time, Hemingway was receiving a report. His expression grew increasingly grave as he read.

The predicted war between Blandi and Arme. The initial phase would be close, but eventually Arme would lose ground and both sides would suffer heavy losses.

—In the end, it is expected to culminate in a clear defeat. Therefore, Grand Commander Hemingway of the Radiant Light Order is requested to consent to ceding the land of 'Lumiere' to Blandi, as per their demands.

He asked the knight who reported this cautiously,

"... Is this really true?"

"I regret to say so, but it is."

The remote border town of Lumiere, famous for its vast, fertile plains.

No matter how he looked, the word 'victory' was nowhere to be found. But there was no question of the report being wrong; it had come directly from the kingdom itself.

'No... This can't be. Did the king really make this judgment?'

Justification is crucial in war. Losing land once is hard; the second time is easy. If they gave up territory last time as demanded, what answer is there when asked why not this time?

If the pressure to give up land continues under the pretext of war, outright disaster could result.

Moreover, the farmers making their living from that land, the problem of unsupplied food affecting Arme's economy—such a vicious cycle would repeat.

So Hemingway kept doubting the king's decision. Temporarily stopping the war by giving up land simply made no sense to him.

His scalp prickled.

'Ha... What a predicament.'

But Hemingway was merely the leader of the order defending the country. If such word already came from above, it was as good as settled.

He was now facing confirmation of what he'd only suspected before: defeat in war.

"The knights have newly been reassigned, though."

"Even so..."

Before the knight could speak further, Hemingway raised his hand to cut him off.

"Yes... I asked the wrong question. They've barely had time to adapt to the order, after all."

"I'm sorry. Should we reinforce our combat strength even now?"

"No, that would just result in senseless deaths. Untrained soldiers are no better than scarecrows."

The knights all looked downcast.

"Still, Lumiere is a strategic position..."

"I understand your feeling. For now, you may withdraw."

Lowering his head, the knight quietly left the office.

There was no time left to train new soldiers. According to the report, a protracted war seemed likely. Land would be seized, then lost, again and again.

'If the report considered even this, the situation must be even worse than suspected.'

Hemingway watched the departing knight out the window, pondering how to achieve victory in war.

He was loyal to Arme, but the members of the Ashborn family—the kingdom's most renowned swordsmen—would be annihilated if things continued this way.

He scratched at his bristly, recently shaven beard.
There was no end to the thoughts he had to consider.

'Isn't there some good solution...?'

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
It seems Arme is in a precarious situation.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】