Sword Emperor, Becoming the Young Lady of a Viscount House

Chapter 47: The Suspicious Girl (4)

The day dawned.

The knights, exhausted and collapsed the previous night, struggled to lift their heavy eyelids, still burdened by fatigue.

“Ugh…! I’m going to die, really.”

“This is why divine power is a problem. While using it, you feel like you own the world, but the next day, it’s like you drank an entire barrel of rum.”

“Hey, hey. Look over there.”

At that moment, one of the knights who had woken up early gestured toward the tent entrance, leaving it slightly open as he observed something.

“What is it?”

Falcon, barely managing to move his stiff body, made his way over.

“That tough young lady is training in the morning.”

“What? Where, where?”

“Shh. She’ll notice.”

The “tough young lady” referred to only one person.

The knights, filled with curiosity, crowded at the entrance. It was quite a sight to see the burly knights peeking out like adolescent boys spying on someone.

“…I knew her skills weren’t ordinary, but this...”

Falcon muttered. As they say, a master recognizes another, and Falcon immediately grasped Beatrice’s level.

“Wow, she can even do that?”

“Hey, San. She’s way better than you. You never bother to do stuff like that.”

“Damn it, it’s true. She’s really pulling aura out in advance.”

Beatrice swung her sword in the air. To an ordinary person, it looked like regular training, but the knights knew better.

They noticed that the sword Beatrice held periodically gleamed with a golden light.

She was repeatedly imbuing her sword with aura and then releasing it with a ting sound.

This was what knights commonly referred to as “preheating.”

Aura typically resided in the dantian. In unexpected situations, drawing aura could take at least four to five seconds.

In comparison, it only takes one second for a person to die. In other words, one could die before even utilizing aura.

To prevent this, diligent knights practiced preheating every morning, just like Beatrice, so they could use aura immediately.

“Control to draw aura in advance… How old is that young lady?”

“Hmm, I heard she’s sixteen.”

“What were you doing at sixteen?”

“…At that time? Stealing bread from the next-door neighbor, Zeratul, and running off.”

“Who’s Zeratul?”

“The village chief. He was also my mother’s lover.”

“…You were hopeless from the start. Was it you who kept stealing the underwear?”

“Damn it, your underwear is too small for me to steal anyway.”

“What?”

“Why. Got a problem? Then show me, you punk.”

Of course, it wasn’t an easy feat.

Drawing aura in advance required significant mental effort and was mentally taxing. It demanded considerable mana control.

As a result, even high-ranking knights often skipped this “preheating.”

The reasoning was simple: if the preheating process made them lose focus and worsen their condition, it would defeat the purpose.

“Anyway, that young lady is truly remarkable.”

“…I want to work under such a beautiful girl. Is there any way I can join her?”

“You crazy fool. If Reiser hears that, he’ll hang you upside down in the plaza.”

“Don’t be so harsh, Falcon. On a battlefield devoid of any romance, having someone like her as a superior would make me happy to die with a smile.”

Technically, the Royal Knights served as the Crown Prince’s personal knights.

Although half-joking, they were genuinely envious.

One day, they would fight alongside Beatrice as soldiers and knights under her command.

Beyond her beauty, working under a competent leader was a universal desire.

As they continued watching Beatrice absentmindedly, something happened.

-Beatrice paused.

Noticing their gazes, she turned her eyes toward the tent where the knights were gathered.

The knights, startled, quickly hid as if they’d been caught slacking off by Reiser in the past.

“…Hey. This doesn’t look good.”

“I think she noticed us.”

“Falcon, it’s time to show the deputy commander’s dignity. You take the lead.”

“Screw you.”

Spying on someone’s training was considered highly disrespectful. It was akin to stealing the recipe for a secret sauce at a famous restaurant.

Even if unintentional, it was an act that couldn’t be justified.

The Royal Knights began shifting the blame onto one another.

The problem was that, at some point, Beatrice had already reached the entrance.

-Swish.

She brushed aside the tent flap.

The bright sunlight illuminated Beatrice.

Her already radiant hair sparkled in the sunlight.

“Ah, no. Young lady, listen to me. It’s not that we wanted to spy. Actually…”

Falcon, as expected, stepped forward to take responsibility.

However, Beatrice showed little interest in whether they had been watching her swordsmanship.

She simply said,

“…Give.”

“What?”

She extended her hand.

“Give me food. I’m hungry.”

-Gurgle.

…That was it.

Beatrice had not eaten a single meal since the previous evening.

For a growing girl, this was unbearable.

**

-Beatrice devoured her meal.

She thoroughly enjoyed a hearty breakfast. Unlike the day before, today’s menu included proper meat and stew with a bit of jerky.

[Oh, young Beatrice. You’ll get a stomachache if you eat like that.]

Solid spoke worriedly. The meat disappeared at lightning speed, a testament to how hungry she had been.

“…Is it good?”

Reiser asked, watching her with a somewhat conflicted expression.

Beatrice, who ate as if she hadn’t had food in days, replied,

“No. Not really.”

Yet, she seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.

“Commander, so what did His Highness say?”

“…He decided on a simple preliminary investigation. There are too many strange occurrences to let this go without a thorough investigation.”

“Hmm. Black magic, huh. It’s not something to take lightly.”

While they deliberated, Beatrice, having finished her meal, began patting her stomach.

-Thud, thud.

“Kya-ha, big sis, your belly is so full!”

Miya poked at Beatrice’s stomach.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes and asked, “Did you finish eating?”

“Yup! Miya ate everything. It was so tasty! I’m completely full!”

Feeling good from the meal, Beatrice patted Miya’s head.

Miya closed her eyes and savored the touch, clearly enjoying it.

‘Cute. By the way, Solid, do you sense anything unusual about this child?’

[She seems like an ordinary girl, but as Reiser suggested, it’s best to keep observing her. Even I find her suspicious.]

Miya looked up at Beatrice with innocent eyes.

At a glance, she appeared to be a normal child, a pitiful one yearning for affection.

‘Well, if danger arises, I can just crush it. For now, though…’

Beatrice shifted her gaze toward the cadets.

‘How should I go about educating those fools?’

[Didn’t you come up with a plan yesterday?]

‘That’s not enough, Solid. You call yourself the God of War, yet you don’t know such basics?’

[Wipe your mouth before speaking, young Beatrice.]

“Ahem.”

She cleared her throat and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

‘Next time, give me a heads-up.’

[Hmph. Don’t expect much from me if you won’t even make a proper contract.]

‘Can gods afford to be so stingy?’

While mentally berating Solid as her “dessert,” Gareth approached.

“Beatrice. I have something to say.”

He crouched down with a serious expression to meet her gaze.

Beatrice replied solemnly, “Speak.”

“…Do you see that guy over there?”

At his cryptic words, she subtly turned her gaze.

A cadet with a visibly haggard appearance was staring blankly into space.

He looked utterly drained, as if he were on the verge of collapse.

“That guy’s name is Adam.”

“…What about him?”

“That guy’s been staring at you with strange eyes since earlier.”

“Strange eyes?”

“Yeah, in my opinion, it’s the kind of look someone gives when they see a traitor. He seemed to hold a grudge.”

She didn’t even know his name, let alone why he would resent her.

“Are you saying he’s emanating killing intent?”

“That’s how it appeared to me.”

To Beatrice, it was like an insignificant ant glaring at a human with murderous intent; no human would feel threatened.

She thought it was similar—there was no way she would sense hostility from some random cadet whose face she couldn’t even remember.

Thus, she deemed him no threat.

However, knowing something and ignoring it were entirely different matters.

“Thank you for letting me know, Gareth. But don’t worry. I’m not so weak.”

Acknowledging what was done well and pointing out what was done poorly were essential qualities of a leader.

Though she disliked cowardly types like Gareth, she believed even such people could be useful.

After all, schemers often had the advantage of intelligence.

By rewarding such contributions, she could gradually bring them to her side.

“Rookies! If your bellies are full, let’s move. Let’s finish this quickly and head back!”

Falcon shouted with a toothy grin.

Beatrice stood up, picking up her sword.

At that moment—

‘…Something smells strange.’

It was a sensation, like the stench of something rotten pricking her nose.

It wasn’t an actual smell but rather a feeling.

At her side, Miya clung to the hem of her clothes.

**

“Why come all the way out here, my lords?”

“…We also need to test our skills. This is part of their education.”

“Kahaha! As expected of the tough young lady. Alright! If we see an appropriate target, we’ll let you have it.”

With that, Beatrice’s group took the lead.

The other cadets, excluding Beatrice, gulped nervously, their tension evident as they walked.

Magical beasts.

And those of the Alps, no less.

They had faced them yesterday and knew they were no easy foes.

“Don’t be too tense. With your skills, you’ll handle them just fine.”

Beatrice encouraged the cadets before confidently falling back.

“…Beatrice? Where are you going?”

Argos asked with a look of unease.

Beatrice responded calmly, “I ate too quickly just now and got indigestion.”

“…….”

A ridiculous excuse, but her confident delivery left no room for rebuttal.

“Uh, uh… Right. If your stomach hurts, you should rest.”

Argos couldn’t find a way to argue and had no choice but to let her go.

[How can you lie so effortlessly without even moistening your lips?]

‘If moistening your lips is required to lie, that’s the mark of an imbecile.’

[…….]

Beatrice wasn’t wrong.

She made her way to the rear line.

There, two knights rode horses, serving as the minimum rear guard.

“Oh, tough young lady. What brings you here? I thought you’d insist on leading the charge.”

“I’ve got indigestion.”

“Pfft! You should’ve eaten slower. Well, it worked out nicely. Seria’s been looking quite down—go help her out.”

Seria was in charge of Miya.

As a priestess, she had little to do when there were no injured personnel.

‘Watching over a child, huh. I’ll take it easy during this subjugation.’

[For young Beatrice, hunting magical beasts might actually be easier.]

Solid’s ominous comment didn’t faze Beatrice.

‘Hah, how hard could babysitting be? Especially for a ten-year-old.’

Confident, she headed toward Seria.

How hard could looking after a child be?

Moreover, Miya was cute.

With a little coaxing and playing, they could return to the warm estate in no time.

However—

Three seconds.

That’s how long it took for Beatrice to regret her words.

“Huwaaah! I’m scared, so scared…!”

“M-Miya, if you cry like that, the knights will be in trouble. Oh, oh! Beatrice! Hurry over here!”

Seria’s desperate gaze, as though she were looking at a savior, made sweat trickle down Beatrice’s back.