How to Survive as a Trash Extra Villain

Chapter 105

Swallowing hard at the emotionless greeting, Gilbert realized a killing sword like that deeply affected a swordsman’s psyche. An empty vessel like this could be filled with murderous intent in an instant.

‘He can’t be left alone!’

Words or persuasion wouldn’t work.

“Want to see?”

“…?”

“My swordsmanship.”

Gilbert drew his sword and moved it slowly, gracefully. It flowed through the air, glided over the ground, and soared to the sky.

“….”

Thud. Savo’s broom fell. Slowly, he drew his sword and mimicked Gilbert’s movements.

It was clumsy. Shallow insight, little experience, low mastery. But to replicate it after one look—Gilbert shuddered at the talent.

‘This boy’s talent rivals mine!’

All the more reason not to let a killing sword fill him.

“Let’s cross blades.”

Gilbert stepped forward, extending his sword. Startled, Savo reflexively blocked. Not an attack a boy his age should’ve parried.

“Impressive. I’m Gilbert. May I have your name?”

“…Savo.”

Their strikes were smooth. But like water and oil, gentle charisma clashed with dominance.

“Savo. A sword isn’t for killing.”

“…? A sword is for killing.”

Their strikes, sword cries, and communion through blades quickened.

“It’s merely a tool to end dire situations. All of it exists for protection and devotion.”

“Protection and devotion?”

“Yes. The sword in your hand exists to protect.”

The Cosmos sword of order.

“Honor. To shine its name brightly.”

“Honor.”

The Defardly sword of dominance.

“Order. To eradicate chaos.”

“Order.”

Their swords danced.

“Justice. The power to vanquish evil.”

“Justice.”

A fierce aura spread outward.

“And to protect myself.”

A spark of life flickered in Savo’s eyes.

“To protect precious family, friends, lovers.”

Like finding light at the end of a wandering darkness.

“That’s why we wield swords.”

“….”

Savo thought this man was trustworthy. After his savior Martin, and family-like Nerjin, Lilac, Bianca, and Sebastian, this man was reliable.

He couldn’t yet grasp that sharing swords with Gilbert meant sharing hearts. He only vaguely felt it.

“You know swords?”

“Of course. I believe I can live my life through the sword.”

“Can you teach me?”

“No reason I can’t. What swordsmanship did you learn?”

Savo almost showed the manual Martin gave him but stopped. Martin had insisted it was for his eyes only.

“I don’t know. I learned from a passing swordsman.”

“Alright, fine.”

It didn’t matter to Gilbert. Or Lina. Both had sky-high swordsmanship talent.

Gilbert and Lina arranged to meet Savo again, then parted.

“…You two didn’t write the club report. What were you doing?”

Elisha scolded them. After scrambling to finish the report, they headed home.

“Lina.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“That boy Savo’s sword… it was honest, wasn’t it?”

Not just the swordsman, but a third party could see truths only observable from outside.

“No, that’s not right.”

Not the right word. After pondering, Gilbert found a better one.

“Emotionless, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Not the state of martial heart, but no heart.”

Textbook swordsmanship meant no variation. Swordsmanship evolves through a swordsman’s emotions, mastery, and insight. Like seeds growing into different branches and flowers, it’s never uniform.

A swordsmanship without emotion was like reading words aloud without understanding their meaning. A machine wielding a sword couldn’t evolve its art.

“He needs… a trigger.”

His talent was ample. But he lacked experience. More crucially, he lacked one thing: desperation. A reason to wield a sword. Conviction.

Until he realized it himself, his swordsmanship wouldn’t reach mastery.

***

After club activities, heading home, the golden cadet and pink cadet faced each other, whispering secretly.

“Heh, look. I’ve nearly seized control of the Academy. Even if the Four Great Ducal Families notice, they can’t easily push back.”

“Great. This’ll let us support Martin more smoothly.”

Parting ways with Martin, the two girls were alone. A rare meeting for two women allied for a trash extra villain.

“Well done. I’m pleased. But it’ll keep draining Elidore’s gold. Can you handle it?”

“Of course. What’s Elidore without money?”

For Martin. The girls had grasped the Academy. Changing much immediately was tough, but they could lay the foundation.

“Good. Be my stepping stone.”

“That’s my line.”

The alliance wasn’t just for Martin.

Adela aimed for the throne, Luri for the Elidore Marquisate’s central political ascent. A win-win alliance. Martin was their common ground, ensuring no betrayal.

As the meeting ended, a golden carriage approached.

“…By the way, Princess Adela.”

“Hm?”

“I’m curious about something.”

Adela, ready to boast her knowledge, paused at Luri’s serious expression. Having mellowed slightly from time with Martin, she decided to offer some ‘empathy.’

“I’m not heartless. You’ve cooperated well, so I’ll hear your concerns.”

“How do I become strong?”

“…?”

Strength. Adela frowned.

“Elidore’s heiress, you’re already strong.”

The Elidore Marquisate rivaled the Four Great Ducal Families. Masters of the continent’s finances. Its heir. Luri even had talent to surpass Marquis Arnold.

“Not wealth or influence.”

“Oh.”

Then she understood. The strength Luri, a perfect, beloved girl, sought.

“You mean martial prowess.”

“Yes.”

This was hard for Adela to answer.

“I’m not weak myself.”

She had some magical skill, but it was secondary. The golden power from First Emperor Hamerd made her two or three times stronger than mages of her level. A matter of talent.

“But I don’t know how to become stronger.”

Because—

“I never needed to.”

Born of noble blood, she rarely faced direct threats. A single word could have the Shadow Knights eliminate any enemy in a day.

“You want to become strong, Luri of Elidore?”

“Yes, Princess. I… want to be strong.”

“Why? Your word could rally countless followers. Your true strength isn’t martial, is it?”

“True. Wealth, power, reading hearts. But that’s not the strength I want.”

Adela’s long-winded response stemmed from genuine curiosity.

“To conquer the Time Chaos Dungeon for glory?”

“No.”

“To reach a great realm and earn the masses’ reverence?”

“No.”

“Someone you want to kill?”

“No.”

Not glory, honor, or revenge. Adela knew that wasn’t it. She was just… hesitating to face the answer. If it was true—

“I just want to stand by the man I love.”

Proving her heart held love was humiliating.

Adela knew instantly that man was Martin. Luri’s pink eyes always held deep affection for him.

“….”

She didn’t want to respond. Because…

Adela was questioning herself, too. Why was she here, playing cadet? Joining a club she’d never cared for?

…Martin. Was she in love with him? She was doubting herself. If so, Luri was a rival for the same man.

“…Is that so…?”

She clenched her jaw, suppressing her turmoil. Admitting this was love was hard.

“Odd. You’re already at Martin’s side.”

“I can’t fight alongside him.”

It was almost laughable. A mocking chuckle nearly escaped. And Adela wasn’t one to hold back.

“Pfft! You think fighting side by side is only about swinging blades? You’re already with him in every way. Denying that to force your selfish, stubborn idea of togetherness?!”

“No way.”

With a self-deprecating smile, Luri hung her head, looking desolate.

“You’re right.”

“….”

“You saw it, Princess. What happened in the Defardly Liberation Army’s hideout.”

There, Luri had been nearly useless. Questionably present.

“The Dungeon Tournament and hunting contest, too.”

As the Elidore Marquisate’s heir, she’d participated. But her lack of combat talent was so stark, she wasn’t even mentioned.

Of course. The world hadn’t assigned her that role.

“Right. My strengths lie elsewhere. In the right place, at the right time. Martin fights, I support. Ideal, maybe. But—”

Adela felt dizzy meeting Luri’s raised eyes.

“I want to fight together. Stand at the same level, face the same trials, overcome them together. I know it’s selfish to want to stand by Martin’s side like that.”

The greed of Luri, born with so much.

“I sleep at 3 a.m. every day, training magic until then.”

“….”

“I force down tasteless elixirs. At home, I only eat elixirs, not regular food.”

“….”

“I grit my teeth and keep going, and I do grow. But…”

Despite all Luri’s efforts—

“Martin’s faster than me.”

Even pushing herself to the limit—

“He’s so fast, I can’t even dream of catching up.”

Tears welled as emotions surged.

“How long can I stay by his side? I’m barely clinging on now!”

Even Adela couldn’t spit harsh words. Perhaps, though she hated to admit it, she shared the same feelings.

“….”

“….”

The golden carriage arrived. The door opened. Neither spoke.

“Luri of Elidore.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. How would I know how to get stronger? I’ve got more pressing matters.”

Luri smirked, as if expecting that. But—

“But the heavens help those who help themselves. If you do nothing, they won’t glance your way. If you persevere, carving away flesh and bone with effort—”

“….”

“One day, a flower might bloom.”

“….”

“Your efforts won’t betray you. But… humans can’t fight natural disasters. Comparing yourself to Martin is absurd. He’s an irregular.”

The carriage door closed, slowly rolling away. Luri stood, then, instead of calling her family’s carriage, trudged off, shoulders slumped.

“….”

Unaware a silent hound had overheard it all.