Chapter 51: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages

Swordsmanship Training (1)

“You look tired. Did something happen yesterday?”

It was early morning. As he prepared to leave for work, Kairon asked Cecilia, who stood at the front gate.

“I overslept.”

“Even if you're on vacation, you shouldn’t slack off too much. Diligence is the lifeblood of a knight.”

Kairon’s tone was stern—but not as strict as usual.

‘She even came to see me off? How thoughtful.’

Kairon was secretly touched by these small gestures.

“Are you going shopping again today?”

“I’m going to teach Betty some swordsmanship today.”

There was a glint in Kairon’s eyes.

“I don’t have any pressing plans today. I’ll lend a hand.”

Cecilia narrowed her eyes sleepily and answered firmly.

“No need.”

“I see…”

Kairon looked a little disappointed.

Still, before boarding his carriage, he asked once more.

“You’re sure you won’t need help?”

“I said I don’t.”

Cecilia pushed Kairon lightly by the back. Reluctantly, he climbed into the carriage.

As the carriage pulled away, Cecilia grinned mischievously.

‘Now this is my domain.’

If there’s no tiger in the tiger’s den, who becomes king?

The fox does.

And Cecilia was the most fabulous white fox in the world.

She had even come all the way to see Kairon off just to enjoy this moment.

She turned around. A neat line of waiting maids stood behind her, ready for orders.

Now that Kairon was gone, Cecilia was the de facto number one in the estate.

Her small shoulders rose by a good 5cm.

“Miss, what should we do first?”

“Shall we give you a massage?”

“Why don’t we host a tea party? If you say the word, all the prominent young ladies of high society will flock here!”

“Really?”

“Of course! Just the number of invitation letters you receive is nearly impossible to sort through.”

The maids giggled warmly. Cecilia’s eagerness was just too adorable.

‘Hmm… that doesn’t sound half bad…’

Cecilia liked noble ladies.

After spending all day among the dark, gritty folks in the knight order, it was only natural to develop a fondness for soft-spoken noble girls.

But today, something even more important was at hand.

It was a pity, but she had to give up on the idea.

“No, I’ve got something important to do today.”

Even something as trivial as killing the Demon King had been postponed—just for this.

All for this moment!

To show Beatrice the perfect image of the Sword Princess.

“Something important?”

“Yeah. Beatrice is coming today. She’s a new knight I’ve become close with lately.”

“……!”

In that instant, the half-playful glint in the maids’ eyes vanished.

‘Lady Cecilia made a friend!’

‘She’s having a friend over!’

‘This is a historic day!’

“You all have to help me.”

The maids, now burning with purpose, each drew their weapons.

Brooms, dusters, mops—they all gleamed with a lethal shine.

“What should we begin with?”

***

‘It’s a little scary… but I have to do my best. I need to become stronger so I can be of help to Lady Cecilia.’

With a nervous look on her face, Beatrice stood at the gates in front of Kairon’s mansion.

When she knocked on the knocker, a maid who had been sweeping fallen leaves nearby approached.

“May I help you?”

“I… I’m Beatrice. I’m supposed to visit today. I-I’m a new recruit from the Windsor Knights…”

The maid, who had been smiling kindly, suddenly widened her eyes.

“Please wait just a moment.”

“O-okay.”

Beatrice felt puzzled by the almost solemn reaction of the maid but patiently waited.

Before long, the door opened, and she was allowed inside.

“This mansion is… amazing.”

“Of course. This is the residence of Lord Kairon, commander of the Windsor Knights and future Duke upon retirement.”

The head maid, Marie, spoke with a voice full of pride.

‘I’ve heard Lady Cecilia is his adopted daughter. That means… even without her title as high-ranking knight, her status is already far above mine…’

And one day, this estate would belong to Cecilia.

‘I thought she was a bit extravagant… but she’s actually very frugal. Will I ever be able to afford a house like this?’

Even if she saved her whole life… probably not.

Sniffling a little inside, sad Beatrice quietly continued walking.

“But where is Lady Cecilia right now?”

“She’s probably rolling around like a baby kitten right about now—”

At that moment, a maid next to Marie turned pale and nudged her elbow.

‘Head maid! Remember the character concept!’

Marie’s eyes shot open as she realized her mistake. Not very professional of her.

“Ahem… that is, not at all. Lady Cecilia, true to her title as the Sword Princess, lives her life with second-by-second discipline.”

“Of course. That sounds just like her…”

Beatrice nodded deeply.

“She’s likely training at the moment. Traditionally, she would greet a guest personally, but as you can imagine, she’s far too dedicated. So please forgive her.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I came here to learn swordsmanship, after all… and I don’t have the status to expect that anyway.”

“If I may ask, which family were you from before joining Windsor?”

“Schwarzfeder. It’s a small barony in the west. You may not have heard of it…”

‘Pureblood.’

‘A pureblood noble. Perfect match to be Lady Cecilia’s playmate.’

Marie was very pleased. She softened a little more.

“Schwarzfeder is a fine house. A noble family with no history of treason or tax evasion.”

“Th-thank you…?”

‘We’re just too poor to do either of those things…’

You need power to rebel and wealth to evade taxes.

But the Schwarzfeder barony had neither…

“This is Lady Cecilia’s training hall.”

At the rear of the estate, separated from the rest, stood a surprisingly large cottage.

“She trains here…?”

“Indeed.”

Marie, who had skillfully hidden the fact that this training hall had been a mere storage shed just an hour ago and the maids had been sweating to clean it, explained smoothly:

“Lady Cecilia wakes up around 4 a.m., refreshes herself with the morning dew, and always goes here to train swordsmanship until 9.”

“F-Four in the morning? Then… when does she sleep?”

“Around 10 p.m.… no, 1 a.m. She has to finish the day’s paperwork after her duties, you see.”

“…Oh my god.”

Marie pretended to wipe nonexistent sweat from her brow as she spoke gravely.

“It’s truly concerning. She could at least delegate some of those paperwork tasks to someone else…”

That was a not-so-subtle nudge.

Beatrice clenched her fists tightly and made a vow.

“Don’t worry. I’ll join Lady Cecilia’s division no matter what, and I’ll take care of every last document for her. That must be why she hasn’t grown taller.”

“….”

Wrong.

Cecilia always went to bed at 10 sharp and drank at least a liter of milk every day—not for height, but for… other parts.

‘Anyway, I’ve fulfilled most of Lady Cecilia’s requests. Now it’s time for hers.’

Gulping softly, Marie opened the door to the storage shed, no, the training hall.

Creeeak—

The door slowly opened.

Beatrice took a deep breath.

“Please keep what you see here a secret. But if your lips get too itchy, I suppose… you may spread a little rumor.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Then, I will take my leave.”

Marie gave one final cryptic “command,” then backed away quietly with a bow.

‘…What’s that supposed to mean?’

But Beatrice didn’t have time to wonder. This was serious.

With a determined heart, she stepped over the threshold.

The atmosphere was distinct.

Particles of dust floated through beams of sunlight streaming from the window slats.

A rectangular space, wide and sparse.

And in its exact center—Cecilia, kneeling (seiza) politely with a wooden sword resting across her thighs.

Her hair was tied up neatly. She wore a white blouse and a long navy skirt—far from her usual short hemline that came halfway up her knees.

Even her socks were different today: instead of the usual white kneesocks, she wore sleek black stockings.

Maybe that was why she looked remarkably composed and graceful than usual.

“….”

Beatrice gulped, overwhelmed by Cecilia’s unfamiliar aura.

‘So this is the Sword Princess.’

This was the version she’d only heard in stories before meeting Cecilia.

Noble. Elegant. A perfectly honed sword made human.

— But why is Lady Cecilia even called the Sword Princess, anyway?

— I mean, she’s pretty, but… she’s nothing like what I expected.

— Doesn’t “Berserker” suit her more?

— Haha! A berserker! That actually fits perfectly!

It was a conversation she’d overheard once from fellow recruits—a conversation she hadn’t been able to refute at the time.

But now… now she had something to say back.

“L-Lady Cecilia…?”

“Twice.”

Cecilia spoke softly, eyes half-lidded.

Her cold silver gaze flicked slightly toward Beatrice.

“You’ve already died twice to me.”

“……!”

“The first basic rule of swordsmanship. Know your opponent’s range.”

‘The training has already begun.’

Beatrice took five steps back with a serious expression.

Cecilia slowly rose to her feet. Half-turning her body, she asked,

“Are you certain about the distance?”

“…Yes.”

Beatrice answered, slightly unsure—and at that very moment, Cecilia leapt forward.

‘This is just swordsmanship training.’

Beatrice assessed the situation coolly. Since it was only training, no blessings (mana enhancements) would be used.

If that was the case, she would shift her weight forward and use the guard of her wooden sword to block and press down Cecilia’s first strike.

With her larger frame, Cecilia would surely lose balance if Beatrice could lock her down early.

Beatrice executed her plan exactly as she had envisioned. The distance she had ensured gave her the time to brace herself and intercept Cecilia's strike.

Or so she thought.

Thwack—!

Fweeeng—!

“Ugh.”

Beatrice bounced off the wall, clutching her stomach as she vomited air she didn’t have.

A sharp ringing filled her ears. Her vision blurred like she’d just been knocked out—but she desperately forced herself to her feet. She was backed into a corner and had to escape.

Cecilia charged again.

‘This time, I have to block. It’s coming from above!’

Beatrice raised her sword to a high guard position.

But Cecilia, recalling her sword just before impact, instead spun and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick directly into Beatrice’s abdomen.

“Hkk…!”

Beatrice was launched into the air and crumpled to the floor, curling into a ball. Drool dribbled from her lips, but she couldn’t even wipe it.

Pain surged through her midsection. She couldn’t breathe at all. Her lungs screamed for air. Her mind began to go fuzzy from oxygen deprivation.

“The second basic rule of swordsmanship: Maximize your weight class.”

Cecilia coolly raised her chin and planted her foot on Beatrice’s head.

As her foot made contact, Beatrice could feel it—Cecilia was manifesting a powerful blessing internally to increase her mass.

‘A blessing… channeled into her own body… to boost her physical class…’

“Especially for us female knights, increasing the body’s absolute mass is crucial,” Cecilia stated.

She then kicked Beatrice in the stomach again. Beatrice’s body slid across the floor, rolling several times.

Now trembling, curled up and clutching her stomach, Beatrice’s face was a mess. Every possible fluid the human body could release had come out.

“The third basic rule of swordsmanship: Target the weak spots repeatedly.”

Cecilia said indifferently, slinging her wooden sword over her shoulder.

“Let’s start with increasing your physical mass. Right now, Betty’s just too light. Okay, one more time… Oh.”

She blinked.

Beatrice had passed out.

“…”

Cecilia knelt gently in front of her, hands folded in her lap.

Then she slightly raised the corners of her lips.

‘I hope she wakes up soon.’

Until then… she would simply sit there and wait.

Hehe.

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