novelraw Chapter 91 : Chapter 91
Chapter 91 : Chapter 91
Chapter 91: The Secret Manual of a Famed Swordsmanship Family (1)
At the age of 17, during his third year at Cia-Harphe Academy.
Demian won the Bronze Rose Competition.
He had become the top among numerous talented students. At least in terms of the results of his martial arts training.
The memory of that time was vivid.
Petals fluttered from above, and a cheerful bell sound testified to Demian's victory. And what about the shouts that shook the audience seats? Everyone was cheering for Demian.
But no. The 17-year-old Demian thought, exhaling a breath soaked in fatigue. I must not become conceited with a small achievement. A true knight does not get drunk on his skills. I cannot become a knight if I do not train my mind.
Thinking so, he crossed the dueling ground, and,
“……Are you hurt anywhere?”
he extended his hand to his opponent.
“It was a great match. It was the first time I had such a tough opponent.”
“Ah, me too.”
At the age of 18, a fourth-year student at Krisaor Academy.
Richart Hildeberg extended his hand to Demian.
Demian helped Richart up, and with his arm around Richart's shoulder, he looked around the audience seats. While the two of them waved to everyone,
“Demian.”
Suddenly, Richart opened his mouth.
“There's something I'm curious about. Can I ask you a question?”
“By all means.”
“You know……”
Why do you always try to fight alone?
Richart asked so.
“I felt it while fighting you. You swing your sword as if you only assume you'll be fighting alone. It seemed like you've been training for that. There won't be any peers who can beat you in a duel with rules. No, even most knighted knights would probably struggle.”
You're strong, Demian.
So strong it's annoying.
But you look lonely. Why do you try to fight alone?
To Richart's question, Demian,
“I am not lonely.”
answered with a faint smile.
“It is written in the knightly literature of Altria Amnesia. That a true knight must be aloof. I want to become a knight who can face an army alone. I want to be able to protect everyone with just my own strength, in an aloof manner.”
Isn't that right, Richart?
Rather than putting my comrades in a deadly situation,
it's enough to win in a deadly situation alone. Isn't that right?
After hearing Demian's question, Richart,
“Well.”
shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“I've always trained with my friends. I've always assumed a situation of fighting in a group.”
“……Is that so.”
Demian's gaze narrowed.
Training with friends. He had never thought about it.
It was because he had been superior since he was young. When his peers held wooden swords, Demian held an unsharpened iron sword. By the time his peers finished the beginner's course of the Numeros Formal Swordsmanship, Demian was already applying the advanced course. According to his childhood friend, Ernst, Demian was a damn bastard. He broke various parts of Ernst's body every time they sparred.
“Richart, if you have comrades……, what's it like?”
“What do you mean, what's it like?”
Wouldn't it be good?
Richart asked back and continued.
“A true knight must be aloof……. Well, those are good words. But I've never read the knightly literature of Altria Amnesia. So I can't empathize.”
My father,
a knight of the Saint-Pierre family,
Sir Alberge Hildeberg, once said.
“A true knight sometimes has to give up his aloofness.”
.
.
.
Late at night, at the Farenheit family mansion.
Demian, who had finished his training, entered his bedroom. When he scanned his desk, a letter had arrived. Richart Hildeberg. The student council president of Krisaor Academy. The opponent he had faced in the finals of the Bronze Rose Competition, and a message from Demian's friend.
- Are you doing well, Demian?
- Winter is in full swing. I'm writing to share some trivial news.
Demian sat down at the desk.
He read the letter with a smile.
- The child you asked me to take care of, Dante Marchisio, is doing well. That guy is quite useful, you know? He should have come to Krisaor Academy sooner. When it comes to swordsmanship, our side is better than CIAR.
Demian's lips pursed.
Well, is that really so? Krisaor Academy was a good place, but there were many talented children at CIAR as well. Demian chuckled and shook his head.
But it was a relief. That Dante Marchisio was doing well. Demian was interested in talented students, and Dante was one of them. And so, he had asked Richart. The moment he heard that Dante had left for Krisaor Academy, he had asked him to take good care of him. Saying that the child was just lacking in confidence but had a wonderful talent.
- I'm graduating next year.
- I'll probably be joining the Light Snow Knights of the Zylon family. It seems His Highness Zylon wants me.
- Ahaha! Stop it, guys! It tickles.
Demian burst into laughter amidst the cats.
- I want to go to the North too.
- Because it's the land where my father died. Lady Fleur de Saint-Pierre told me. That he died in vain, swept away by an avalanche, but my father always dedicated himself to protecting the North. I also want to become a knight like my father.
Demian's expression stiffened.
Fleur de Saint-Pierre. His gaze lingered on that name.
- So, about that……,
- Lady Fleur, it's really a shame.
- Yes, that's right.
Demian folded the letter and placed it on one side of the desk.
About a month had passed since Fleur's death. When he recalled Fleur's coffin crossing the streets of the capital, he couldn't help but fall into a confused mood and get lost in thought.
‘It was a murder case, he said, for sure…….’
According to the report of the ‘Daily Watcher’, that was so.
In the first place, a series of murder cases were occurring against the Saint-Pierre family. At that time, the speculation that it was an internal strife within the family was dominant, but it was a complete fabrication. The giant of fire that had appeared in the Saint-Pierre estate, and the Sword Saint. The Pope was silent, but the answer was as good as given.
There was some force behind the murderer, and,
the Sword Saint appeared to counter it. The appearance of the Sword Saint meant that a national crisis had occurred. Fleur must have died after being caught up in such a huge incident.
‘According to the knightly literature of Altria Amnesia…….’
Demian rummaged through the pile of books on his desk.
Swordsmanship manuals, or knightly literature. Demian's reading was extremely biased.
Among them, he opened a book, ‘The Merry Adventures of Sir Abraxas’ written by Altria Amnesia. The adventure story of Sir Abraxas, who traveled to various places and helped those in trouble, and then always demanded only a single egg as a reward. The sequel, ‘The Vile Adventures of Sir Abraxas’, was scheduled, but the story of Sir Abraxas had ended because it had not been published even after 10 years.
At the end of the book, it was written.
‘Most knights kill life, but a true knight kills death…….’
It became funny to read it again now.
To kill death. Isn't that too futile?
Isn't it so futile that death cannot be killed?
The moment Demian thought so and let out a sigh,
“Demian.”
Thud, thud.
The sound of someone knocking on the door was heard.
“May I come in?”
“──Ah, Father!”
Demian was startled and stood up.
When he quickly ran and threw open the door of his bedroom, he saw the figure of a slender middle-aged man. Gerhard von Farenheit, the head of the famed swordsmanship family. Demian's father was standing there, holding a paper bag.
“Why are you so surprised? Were you writing a love letter?”
“I was just reading a friend's letter!”
“What a shame. You'll be of age soon, so you should try to find a partner……”
“A true knight does not need a partner!”
“Then this father must be a fake knight. Anyway……”
May I come in for a moment, he said.
Gerhard asked Demian.
“Of course!”
Demian and Gerhard sat down with the table between them. At a glance, both of them had an impression that did not suit swordsmanship. Demian's appearance was too gentle, and Gerhard's appearance was too neat.
The only difference, perhaps, was the scars. Gerhard's face was intricately engraved with thin scars. He said they were wounds made by a child he had saved from a monster during his apprentice knight days. He had heard that the child, in a state of confusion, had mistaken Gerhard for a monster and had scratched him with his fingernails, creating the scars.
Demian liked his father's scars.
“Demian.”
“Yes!”
“……Why do you only speak so loudly to this father? I'm going to be scared out of my wits.”
“Because I respect you as a knight, Father!”
“Alright, well……”
Gerhard scratched the back of his neck.
“Anyway, I came because I have something to tell you.”
“I'm listening!”
“It's not that special……”
You'll be of age soon, won't you?
As the heir of the Farenheit family,
you will inherit the secret manual that has been passed down for generations.
To Gerhard's words,
“Yes!”
Demian shouted vigorously.
“After I inherit the secret manual, I will duel with Professor Argento!”
“Right, right. Abel Argento……, I've also heard about your supervising professor. He destroyed the Dawn Leaf Theater recently, didn't he? There are also rumors that he's a Sword Saint.”
“He's probably not a Sword Saint!”
“Why?”
“I expected him to be a Sword Saint, but Ernst said he definitely wasn't!”
“Ah, the eldest grandson of Count Tresckow. It's good to see that you're still on good terms.”
Anyway, Demian, he said.
Gerhard said, rummaging through the paper bag.
“Here. This is our family's secret manual.”
“……Yes?”
Gerhard held out an old book to Demian.
Demian's gaze became pensive. The family's secret manual is inherited at the same time as the coming-of-age ceremony. That was the tradition that made up the Farenheit family. And a paper bag? Was the secret manual in a common paper bag? Demian tilted his head and received the book.
And so, while he was calmly reading through it,
“Father……”
Demian hesitated and opened his mouth.
“Is what is recorded in this book really our family's secret manual?”
“It is.”
“But……”
It's too outdated.
That was Demian's judgment.
The level of the techniques was absurdly low. He had found a few useful techniques, but even so, they were useless. Because they were already included in the Numeros Formal Swordsmanship in an improved form.
“Do you understand now, Demian?”
Gerhard chuckled.
“The secret manual of a famed family is just an illusion. It's just a political tool. The swordsmanship of the Farenheit family has already been spread to the world. It's better to make everyone improve a little than to be outstandingly strong alone. That was the will of our ancestors.”
To know this in advance,
to inherit the secret manual with a lot of flair,
and yet to persevere. To achieve the best swordsmanship as if the secret manual really existed. That is our…….
“task given to the Farenheit family.”
“So that's……, how it was……”
Demian let out a sigh.
He could not deny Gerhard's words.
It is better to give the secret manual to everyone than to monopolize it. Not all knights could reach a high level, but it was enough to cultivate the swordsmanship skills necessary to save the lives of the subjects. For this, the ancestors had generously disclosed it. The secrets of the swordsmanship that they had honed throughout their lives.
‘……I have lost again, Professor Argento.’
Demian thought, closing the secret manual.
It was an utter defeat. Because Abel had said it during their duel in the training ground.
‘If your father is a proper knight…….’
you will not be able to inherit what you want.
‘Demian Fernando von Farenheit, I guarantee it.’
You will not reach the level you longed for.
* * *
The next day, at Cia-Harphe Academy's 0th academic building, also known as the ‘Professor's Tower’.
──Crash!
With the sound of a window shattering,
“Professor Abel Argento.”
Demian's voice followed.
Abel, who had been walking down the corridor, stopped.
Demian was staring at Abel, standing on the windowsill.
“On the honor of the Farenheit family, I challenge you to a duel.”
“……Why are you doing this again.”
Abel let out a sigh.
He felt a sense of déjå vu. It was no different from the day he had dueled with Demian in the training ground. That afternoon, Abel had been walking on the 47th floor of the 0th academic building, and he had been challenged to a duel by Demian. It was the same today. Was he waiting for me to reach the 47th floor? Abel thought with a blank expression.
“I paid for the window you broke last time. You're on your own today.”
“I will if I lose the duel!”
“You broke the window. There is no room for conditions.”
“The duel, will you not do it?”
“I won't.”
Abel turned around without hesitation.
Tch. Demian bit his lower lip.
He had long since overcome his acrophobia. Demian came down from the windowsill without hesitation. Then he ran towards Abel, rummaged in his pocket, and,
“──Sir Abel Argento!”
with a vigorous command,
“I say again! Please duel with me!”
Swoosh.
A handful of sand being thrown.
Abel looked back at Demian. The handful of sand did not reach Abel. It just fluttered weakly, scattering dust.
“A duel……”
And so, in the gap of the hazy dust that had spread,
“……I want to have a duel.”
Demian whispered with his head lowered.
“Alright.”
To think that Demian Fernando von Farenheit would think of attacking with sand. Although it failed, it's a rare occurrence.
Thinking so, Abel spoke.
“I'll do it. Follow me.”