novelraw Chapter 163 : Chapter 163
Chapter 163 : Chapter 163
163
"May I be frank? The swordsmanship of the Belmein Royal Knights is abysmal."
At my words, Lord Murray let out a pained groan.
"The biggest reason is that it tries to do too much."
The Belmein Kingdom was situated at the extreme southeastern edge of the continent.
To the east lay a canyon where massive monsters slumbered, to the north stretched the vast grasslands that formed the border with the Kingdom of Triban, and to the south flowed a great river leading toward the Kingdom of Namress.
Monsters existed in every one of those places. It was a paradise built for monsters.
"The kingdom periodically dispatches its knights to exterminate monsters. And they produce impressive results."
"That is correct."
"As a consequence, the kingdom's swordsmanship is focused on exterminating monsters — and as many of them as possible."
Lord Murray let out another pained groan.
The key words were "as many monsters as possible" and "extermination."
They did not come to exterminate swarms of Harpies.
Not only were Harpies difficult to deal with through swordsmanship, but their numbers were too small to make the effort worthwhile.
Their extermination targets were orc hordes appearing on the plains or in mountain ranges, or packs of Lizardmen emerging from swamplands.
It was a destructive style of swordsmanship — one that secured mobility through horseback and was swung only from advantageous positions where they could overwhelmingly sweep the enemy away.
"That makes it difficult to fight against people."
"I know, I know already."
Lord Murray stepped back and let out a sigh.
"Should you not start by telling me how to overcome that?"
"We begin with the history of why the swordsmanship was designed that way in the first place."
"Does that actually help me overcome my current situation?"
The reason Lord Murray had been groaning continuously was not because of my lecture.
Standing before him with a sword in hand was Isadora.
Her entire body was drenched in sweat.
No matter that she had been a soldier, her opponent was a man who had earned military merits in the knightly order.
The physical difference between a man and a woman could not be ignored either.
Despite all those disadvantages, the one leading the sparring session was Isadora.
Isadora exhaled a ragged breath and steadied herself.
"Haa, haa."
"Isadora was a soldier of the Empire. The Imperial Military Academy teaches swordsmanship designed for dealing with barbarians. She would naturally become proficient at fighting people."
"Damn it, does it really make this much of a difference?"
"On horseback against monsters, you would be far stronger, my Lord. Overwhelmingly so."
"Ngh."
Lord Murray gripped his sword again and charged forward.
His swordsmanship was fundamentally a descending style.
He raised his sword to a high guard, then struck downward as if swinging an axe from above, smashing through monsters.
The domineering, power-based swordsmanship suited Lord Murray perfectly, given his nearly two-meter height.
"Hrrgh!"
Isadora gritted her teeth and deflected the blow.
She never met his blade head-on.
She focused solely on parrying his high-guard strikes at an angle, deflecting them to the side as they came.
Each blow was so powerful that her body lurched violently with every deflection.
It did not matter.
He was a warrior; she was a soldier.
In the military, had the same situation arisen, another soldier would have dealt with the opponent while she deflected those blows.
Her role was not to bring down the enemy, but to endure and deflect like this.
Isadora possessed the skill to have earned the position of swordsmanship instructor, even at a third-rate academy like this one.
She could block the sword of a swordsman who had been drowning in alcohol and had stayed away from his blade for years.
"Damn."
Lord Murray knew it too.
His eyes darted rapidly, searching for an opening in Isadora's defense.
No answer came easily, and frustrated breaths kept spilling from his lips one after another.
When that kind of breathing accumulated, it would throw off his timing at the critical moment.
"But you have spent your entire life learning and using that flawed swordsmanship. So you must draw out its strengths and hidden depths."
"Would it not be enough to simply add Aura on top?"
"As I keep saying, you must imagine what kind of Aura this swordsmanship would manifest."
What intentions did the person who first created this swordsmanship have?
It was a kind of problem-solving exercise.
Analyzing the creator's intent and finding the answer accordingly.
'The first swordsman would not have developed the sword solely for fighting monsters.'
They would have fought people in the streets, fought monsters in the wild...... Their swordsmanship would have been built up through countless duels.
That left two approaches.
Either draw out the anti-personnel swordsmanship hidden beneath the surface of this monster-fighting style.
Or complete the swordsmanship to such perfection that its weaknesses became laughable.
"Among monsters, there are those with forms similar to humans."
Orcs, for example.
They were creatures that existed on the boundary between monster and demi-human.
A highly enhanced Hati was indistinguishable from an orc.
Their physique was similar to a human's, and their thought patterns and behavioral tendencies resembled those of a fifteen or sixteen-year-old.
They used tools and had cultural practices similar to humans.
And the swordsmanship of the Belmein Kingdom was designed to exterminate such orcs as well.
It was a swordsmanship that had never anticipated orcs using Advanced Swordsmanship — but if one inserted that condition and revised the technique accordingly.
'I can see it.'
I carefully observed Lord Murray as he searched for answers.
I tracked where his arms, hands, and feet moved.
An image of how he was attempting to break through this impasse transmitted itself into my mind.
This image was most likely the influence of the General Fantasy.
'I am receiving help, too.'
I had thought it would only help me in teaching students.
I reflected on the image drawn in my mind as I watched Lord Murray.
His body moving so intensely it seemed to be on the verge of giving off steam, his breathing growing increasingly rapid.
And yet, behind it all, I could see a back that refused to bend — a will that would not yield.
That back must have once belonged to a knight who, years ago, stood before monsters and resolved never to submit or retreat.
Or perhaps it was the will of a knight from a small kingdom, determined never to bow to Imperial invasion.
"You have a strong sense of pride, my Lord."
"......"
"Do not bend that pride."
"If one lacks the ability to back up one's pride, then it is nothing but arrogance."
"Then be arrogant. Raise your sword higher."
With a style of swordsmanship like this, it was better to be brazenly audacious than to grow timid.
"Change the way you apply force. The arrogant are arrogant because they believe in themselves. Those who constantly flex and puff themselves up are the ones who are afraid."
Reshape the body to match what the swordsmanship pursued, and correct the will.
A body corroded by alcohol.
I would draw out and raise up the will that had been crumbling away within it.
"Widen your stance and keep it straight. The Belmein Kingdom's swordsmanship was never designed to rely on excessive footwork."
Unlike humans, monsters moved according to the instinct to kill.
They knew no fear and charged with the sole intent to harm humans until the moment before death.
Therefore, there was no need to move.
As my instructions on swordsmanship continued, Lord Murray's silhouette began to change.
His breathing grew faster, but it was not the panting of a defeated man.
It was the breathing of a predator standing at the center of a pack of monsters, defending its territory against the herbivores around it.
"......Ah."
Isadora, facing that pressure, gritted her teeth and raised her sword.
She must have sensed it instinctively.
That if she continued responding with the same casual swings, she would be torn apart in an instant.
Between the curls of Lord Murray's hair, his eyes gleamed dangerously.
Mana pulsed around his body.
The movement was still faint, but soon enough.
"My Lord!"
At that moment, someone entered our training grounds.
It was one of the guards protecting the castle.
"A guest has arrived."
"Over something like that?"
He had been on the verge of Enlightenment.
Naturally, his tone could not help but turn irritable.
The soldier, sensing his displeasure, adopted an apologetic expression.
"I remember your standing order not to disturb you unless it is something extraordinary. However, this guest is from the Royal Castle......"
"Murray!"
And following right behind the soldier, a man strode in with long, bold steps.
He appeared to be around the same age as Lord Murray.
The man in his forties wore flamboyantly painted armor, every surface of which was covered in scars from battles against monsters.
The cloak draped over his armor was adorned with numerous medals and insignias, and the clothing beneath the armor was made of expensive fabric.
'A man who loves showing off.'
That did not necessarily seem like a bad thing.
In a certain sense, he was a man who suited the swordsmanship of the Belmein Kingdom perfectly.
He approached Lord Murray with an arrogant expression, idly stroking his mustache.
He said he was from the Royal Castle.
He was probably someone who had served alongside Murray in the knightly order.
"This man never ceases to surprise me! I was certain you would be rotting away in this third-rate territory without so much as a thought about swordsmanship!"
His eyes swept over me, Isadora, and Dwayne.
"Though your sparring partners are rather...... a woman, a frail young man, and a scholar, is it? Looks less like training and more like playing at training. Heh heh."
"Palmer."
"That is right! It is I, Knight Commander Palmer! Heh heh, I have been leading the order ever since you left. I thought you had buried yourself here and forgotten all about me!"
Never mind.
A moderate degree of arrogance might serve one's swordsmanship, but when someone lacked this much basic decency......
I hated to say it, but he was unbearably obnoxious.
It had been a long time since I had thought so poorly of a person.
Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Lord Murray reached for Palmer to lead him away.
"This does not seem to be a conversation for this place. Let us go to the castle."
Just as Lord Murray's hand was about to touch Palmer's clothing, Palmer swatted it away with a casual flick.
Lord Murray's hand hung awkwardly in the air.
The man called Palmer scrunched his face and brushed off his garments.
Lord Murray's hand had not even touched them.
"I was not finished talking. Why would I go to some rundown castle for a grand conversation?"
Rundown? He looked at this Academy City and felt nothing?
"It seems you have forgotten me. And it seems all your loyalty to our Belmein Kingdom has vanished as well."
It was the kingdom that had sent him here like an exile in the first place.
Could loyalty to the kingdom possibly survive under those circumstances?
"That must be why you are refusing the Royal Castle's appointment of a new lord and digging in your heels. You have grown too fond of this backwater."
Backwater......
The scenery of our Akarind Academy City right now could stand proudly even next to the Imperial Capital.
"But now that I have arrived, you shall relinquish all your duties and be gone."
The man called Palmer rummaged through his coat and produced a single sheet of paper.
It was a letter of appointment naming Baron Palmer Keila as the new Lord of Akarind Academy City.
Stamped at the very bottom of the document was none other than the King's personal seal.
Well, well.
"Hmm."
Lord Murray looked at me.
In a rare display, he seemed to be reading my expression.
So I asked with my eyes as well.
'Why is that man acting like that?'
'I have no idea. Could demons have appeared in Belmain Royal Castle as well? The mental-influence kind?'
'I would not know either. I have never heard of such a thing.'
'Then they must have always been mad.'
Roughly that sort of exchange passed between our gazes.
Completely oblivious to any of it, Commander Palmer simply proclaimed with full confidence.
"So! As of now, I am the Lord of this place! Therefore, all personnel under the Academy City shall follow my commands from this point forward!"
"No."
"Hmm?"
I summoned Rozalin along with the security team.
"A peddler has wandered in. Escort him outside the territory."
"Wha — what are you doing?! I am the legitimately appointed lord of this territory, authorized by royal decree! Unhand me! This is treason! Huh?! I said unhand me!"
They carried out their duty faithfully.