Chapter 11: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages

A Suitable Dungeon (1)

Cecilia was curled up on her airy, cloud-like bed, a soft smile on her lips.

She was deep in a blissful dream.

A dream where newbies had arrived.

Where the official launch had begun.

Where she was helping the confused new players find their footing.

—As expected, Lady Sword Princess is the best!

—Let’s start a fan club!

She was being tossed into the air in celebration by her adoring fans.

If only I never had to wake up from this dream...

Just as that thought crossed her mind—

Rustle—

A shadowy figure slipped silently into her room.

“……”

Cecilia's eyes opened naturally, as if on reflex.

Her vision quickly adjusted to the darkness, and she spotted the intruder.

Around 6'2" (180 cm+), solid build.

‘...A stalker?’

Cecilia could not forgive this.

To trespass into the room of the kingdom’s most beloved and beautiful Sword Princess—how dare they?

Worse yet—no one must ever find out that the mighty Sword Princess sleeps hugging a bunny plushie.

Only one phrase crossed her mind:

‘Kill. Erase. Obliterate.’

In an instant, she condensed the wind into the shape of a blade.

“W-Wait! It’s me! Sword Saint Ertherion! I may not be Windsor, but I’m on your side!”

“Even a Sword Saint can be a stalker, apparently?”

“Wha—How could you even say that?! I’d never do something like that!”

“Save your excuses for the Goddess.”

“Pfft—‘Save your excuses for the Goddess’?! That’s gold!”

Cecilia, still groggy from sleep, turned toward the source of the amused voice near the window.

Queen Lydia was sitting casually on the windowsill, wiping away tears of laughter.

Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, she looked almost unreal in her beauty.

“I told you I didn’t want to do this! How could I just barge into a lady’s room—especially one so grown and refined—!”

“But you’re my royal guard, aren’t you? And besides, I wanted you to get along with Cecilia.”

With a light step, Lydia jumped down from the window and approached Cecilia.

She wore a loose white sundress—more like she was out for a stroll than visiting a knight.

Her petite frame looked like that of an ordinary girl.

And yet, the way she moved, the grace in her posture—there was no mistaking it.

Even in a plain dress, her royal dignity remained untouchable.

“Your Majesty.”

Cecilia knelt down on one knee, placing a fist over her heart.

“You may raise your head, Cecilia Windsor.”

Lydia’s tone was playfully regal.

As soon as Cecilia looked up—poke!

The Queen poked her in the cheek.

“Sorry to visit so early in the morning. You must’ve been exhausted.”

“It’s quite all right, Your Majesty. But may I ask what brings you here at this hour?”

“Just wanted to talk. After the council meeting, I came straight over. Ugh, the Empire’s old men—stress is no joke.”

With a dramatic stretch, Lydia yawned—though her face showed no signs of fatigue.

“So, how did the meeting end? I’ve received reports, but I want to hear it from you directly.”

“...There was only one clear decision made: the Windsor Knights’ state of emergency will be lifted. Things are returning to normal.”

“A bold move for a bunch of frightened children.”

“It was Court Mage Viaton’s judgment. Maintaining the current situation wouldn’t improve anything anyway.”

“Mm-hmm. Looks like they actually listened to my advice to not pick a fight. How commendable.”

Then, with a sly smile—

“But... surely my ‘children’ didn’t settle for just that, did they?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

Though the meeting had fizzled out in laughter over a silly joke, Royal Knight Commander Draven hadn’t backed down.

“There’s still the matter of reorganizing the Windsor Knights. He said he would bring it to Your Majesty’s attention at first light.”

“And what does Draven really want?”

“I can’t say for certain, but... it looks like he wants to bring the Windsor Knights under his own command.”

‘Disbanding the Knights is out of the question.’

In the Kingdom of Lianen, the Windsor Knights weren’t just a military force. They were a symbol.

To dissolve such a group—

It simply couldn’t happen.

Logically, Draven didn’t really mean “disband.”

It was a classic negotiation tactic: ask for something extreme so you can secure a lesser, more realistic demand.

He’s probably after operational command rights.

In other words, he wants Windsor to take orders from him.

‘…What does the Queen think?’

Honestly, Cecilia had no idea.

The Queen, who had lived for centuries, was nearly unreadable.

Only the Goddess herself might know what truly went on in that head.

“Wondering what I think?”

Queen Lydia tilted her head as if she’d peeked into Cecilia’s thoughts.

Cecilia hesitated, then slowly nodded.

‘In the end, things would likely go the way the Queen decided.’

“The Windsor Knights must remain independent.”

She raised a finger and smiled elegantly.

“But... that independence has to be built on trust.”

Cecilia listened, tense.

“If they can’t earn the others’ trust, then—”

“—I’m sorry, but I can’t defend them out of pure sentiment.”

‘So that’s it.’

The Queen wanted Windsor to continue as they were.

But she wouldn’t tolerate discord.

And the best way to silence the noise was undeniable results, concrete achievements.

Cecilia perfectly understood the Queen's intentions. Even so, she couldn’t help but ask:

“Why are you telling me this?”

It puzzled her that the Queen would personally deliver such a message.

Not to Kairon, not to Edward—

But to her, just a mere high-ranking knight.

“You saved me once. I figured, maybe you could do it twice.”

“I did?”

Cecilia searched her memory, but nothing came to mind.

The Queen leaned in, whispering as if revealing a great secret.

“That kitten you saved from the tree back then... that was me.”

“……!”

“I’m counting on you, Cecilia Windsor. I expect great things from you.”

“Your Majesty! Not again—wait, where are you going?! Why are you transforming into a cat?!”

Cecilia stood frozen as the Queen leapt from the window, with the Sword Saint dashing after her in a panic.

She stared blankly for a moment.

‘Wait... so she can turn into animals too?’

From now on, even falling leaves couldn’t be trusted.

A Queen who could shapeshift into stray animals for surprise inspections?

That was a walking natural disaster.

***

Edward sat in his office, bathed in the languid light of the afternoon sun, leafing through a report.

[Top-Secret Report — Incident: Demon Duke’s Assault on the Capital]

-All knights who faced the duke reported extreme mental duress.

-Even Heiter, ranked among the highest-level Sword Demons, was found incapable of any effective response.

Simulation result: Total annihilation.

-Exception: in simulation #5921, a win scenario was recorded—

If Cecilia Windsor, the Sword Princess, maintains her Wind Shear for 5 minutes and 30 seconds,

Sword Saint Ertherion and Sword Emperor Kairon may kill the target using their strongest Secret Art.

※ Caution! The royal capital is highly likely to be annihilated.

※ Caution! High chance of rebellion from Kairon Windsor.

Observation: The longest recorded Wind Shear from Cecilia is 2 minutes 29 seconds. Scenario deemed implausible.

Conclusion: The Sword Princess's decision to disengage was the best possible course of action.

Any punitive action against Cecilia Windsor is illogical.

“…So Heiter was right.”

Edward quietly closed the report.

The kingdom’s mages were brilliant. Their analyses were almost never wrong.

“A golden opportunity lost. The Goddess never grants me the one thing I truly desire.”

With a bitter chuckle, Edward stood and walked to the window.

And there she was—Cecilia, her expression as unreadable as ever, walking quietly down the garden path.

‘What are you thinking right now?’

His gaze narrowed. His fingers traced an imaginary line across the glass, aimed at her throat.

“Did you really do your best, as this report claims?”

Edward couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“There are too many things that don’t add up.”

‘Killing intent.’

Edward had rushed at the scene shortly after the incident.

He had seen what Heiter described.

He had felt it too.

But unlike Heiter, Edward’s interpretation was different.

It raised a more fundamental question:

‘Since when can the weak emit killing intent?’

Killing intent wasn’t the raw fury of the powerless.

It was the suppressed urge to destroy, something only those capable of truly killing could emit.

Sure, fools sometimes overestimated themselves.

But Edward couldn’t shake the feeling that Cecilia had intentionally let the demon go.

“Why?”

If that was true, it left only one question:

For what purpose?

To prevent casualties?

To spare the innocent?

If that was really the reason she held back—

If she had let the Demon Duke walk away for such a trivial motive—

Drip.

“That’s far too much...”

A single tear fell from Edward’s eye.

His heart was filled with pity, so much that it couldn't have been more tragic.

“You’re far too pitiful.”

Edward wiped away a tear and shook his head.

A knight who couldn't slay their enemy out of fear that a bug might get hurt in the process.

What a cruel contradiction.

‘Kairon. It must be because of that man. That’s why such brilliant talent has dulled.’

Edward didn’t particularly like Cecilia.

She constantly questioned him, challenged him, and rubbed him the wrong way with her impudent attitude.

But like her or not, she was still a member of the Windsor Knights.

And pity was pity.

With mournful eyes, Edward opened a drawer.

“I’m sorry, Cecilia. I… can’t save you.”

From within, he pulled out a single document.

An assignment request—old and yellowing from time.

“This is the only way I know how.”

Knock knock.

A faint knock sounded against the door.

So light, it could have been mistaken for a breeze brushing past.

Even without hearing a voice, Edward knew exactly who was standing outside.

Putting on his well-practiced smile, he said,

“Come in, Cecilia.”

Creak.

The door opened slowly, and Cecilia stepped in, her expression cautious.

“Sorry to call you in on your day off.”

“It’s okay. I had something I wanted to say as well.”

“Oh? Something to say?”

“Thank you for what happened before.”

Cecilia bowed deeply—an impeccable display of etiquette.

‘...What exactly is she thanking me for?’

Edward couldn’t understand.

And then came the words that froze his expression.

“Thanks to your advice, it really helped me a lot.”

‘She must have seen the report too. Which means… is she mocking me?’

The report had clearly shown that Edward had been wrong.

Bringing it up now—there was no interpretation except sarcasm.

Of course, Cecilia was being completely sincere.

‘Thanks to Edward, I remembered to bring the tomato sauce.’

That had saved her scene at the council earlier.

She was genuinely grateful—completely unaware of the misunderstanding her words had caused.

“Don’t mention it. I apologize for before. I was caught off guard, and I lost my composure.”

“No, it was a reasonable critique. I’d like to repay you in some way… Is there anything you want from me?”

‘Unbelievable.’

Her attitude was downright irritating—yet this time, Edward managed to restrain himself.

“Of course there is.”

What would soon unfold was too interesting for him to lash out now.

“This incident taught me something important.”

He casually flipped through a few pages of the document, then looked up at her.

“How much the Windsor Knights have weakened lately.”

He smiled as he spoke, though there was something ominous behind that smile.

“Could you take the apprentice knights and run them through a bit of training? There’s a dungeon—perfect for the job.”

Cecilia froze for a moment.

“…A suitable dungeon?”

“Yes. ‘Suitable.’”

She quickly skimmed through the assignment sheet and seemed to ponder something briefly.

Edward took a relaxed sip of tea as he waited.

If she brought this to Kairon, the mission would probably get rejected. But Cecilia—she wouldn’t refuse. She couldn’t.

‘You know why vipers are feared, Cecilia?’

She was still young and had grown up with misguided upbringing.

‘Because they know they’re poisonous, but they don’t understand just how deadly their venom is.’

He hoped this would be the experience that finally taught her:

In this world, it’s not the pitiful insects that matter—only the truly gifted survive.

“No.”

Edward’s composed smile shattered instantly.

“What?”

“Instead of a ‘suitable’ dungeon, I’ll take an unresolved one.”

“U-Unresolved dungeon?”

Cecilia nodded without hesitation.

“That’s the only kind of place where real training happens.”

“……”

Edward was at a loss.

He had no idea what was going through that small head of hers.

Next Chapter