Me and My House
All the other candidates had left the training ground. I stood facing the instructor, Priya.
"What will the training method be?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? I just teach."
Priya cut her words short. Her voice was low and calm, yet tinged with a lazy sense of annoyance. But she was a person vetted by Jefestian and Enji. There was no need to doubt her skills.
"First, a test. I need to see how much you know about the sword."
She picked up a tree branch from a corner of the training ground.
"I'll use this branch. You try to cut me down with your sword."
"…Yes."
I gripped the training sword, a true blade, and took my stance, aiming for Priya. She seemed to be standing there casually, yet I couldn’t feel a single opening.
I took a step forward.
Smack!
The moment I lunged, her branch struck my wrist with pinpoint accuracy. A searing pain shot through me, and I almost dropped my sword.
"Too straightforward. Be a little more cunning."
"…"
I gripped my sword again. Feinting a frontal attack, I then threw in a double feint as if to dig in from the right, aiming for her lower body—
Smack!
The result was the same. This time, it was my shoulder. The joint where the branch hit burned as if seared by fire.
"Again."
"…Yes."
This time, I crouched low and charged, thrusting my sword out at the very last moment. Priya swung the branch in a straight line.
Fwoosh—!
A sound like the air itself was tearing apart erupted. This was no mere resistance from a simple branch. My body was sent flying as if I'd been hit by a shotgun blast.
Thud.
I crashed to the ground.
"…"
"Again. Get up."
I repeated the process.
Smack!
I was struck in the side. The blunt impact knocked the wind out of me.
Smack!
I was hit on the forehead. My vision momentarily spun.
Smack!
My chest was struck. A mark was left on my collarbone.
"You okay?"
"…"
Anger began to simmer. I was being played with. Worse, Priya was still standing in the same spot. She hadn't moved a single step.
Annoyance flared, followed by a sense of doubt. But my frustration was not with Priya. I couldn't be the kind of trash who blames others anymore. My shortcomings were my own fault, and mine alone.
"Raise your mana. You can't face me with just your physical body."
I clenched my teeth.
Mana.
Right, mana.
I needed mana.
I closed my eyes, focusing my consciousness inward.
I sensed and controlled the faint trembling, the subtle flow of particles coursing through my blood vessels. I circulated the mana throughout my body.
In that instant—a path suddenly opened.
A new channel was bored through my circuits.
The stem of my mana rushed forth and reached a place deep within my body. Its destination was the 'virus'—the mana core that had regressed with me.
Two mana of different natures coalesced there. Black and blue mixed to form a single color.
—Tick.
It responded to me.
The ticking of a clock echoed in my soul.
Simultaneously, the world slowed down.
I lunged forward in that very instant.
With a sudden hyper-acceleration, I kicked off the ground and arrived in front of Priya. Just as I had cut down Izenheim, I swung my sword at the branch.
Slice.
The branch was severed cleanly, but her eyes moved.
Her pupils 'followed' my speed.
At that moment, I felt a strange thrill.
This woman… she’s a true master.
Tock.
The world returned to its normal speed. The acceleration had been too brief.
Crash!
Unable to control my momentum, I slammed straight into the wall. Priya stared at the severed cross-section of the branch with a look of surprise.
"…My?"
"The sword is the brush. And you are the artist. You are to paint a picture in the empty air with your sword."
I stood facing my master in the training hall. Now, the real lesson would begin. Since I had severed the branch, Priya had become a little more serious.
"When you paint a landscape or a still life, how do you do it?"
"I've never painted…"
"Do you just imagine it? No. Usually, you look at the subject and paint. Swordsmanship is the same. You look at your opponent and react accordingly. But if you stop there, you'll be nothing more than a mass-produced artist. Why is that?"
"Because I've painted…"
"Because you lack a fixed image of your own in your heart. An image and a conviction are the most important things for a swordsman. In fact, they're the most important things for any human being. I suppose the image in your sword is Ebenholz, isn't it?"
"...I have heard that a secret sword art has been passed down in my family."
My father also used that secret sword.
However, the secret sword arts [祕傳劍術] and the secret sword [祕傳劍] are strictly different. The secret sword is an esoteric art closer to magic, while the secret sword arts are, literally, techniques of pure swordsmanship—methods concerning how to move the body and wield the sword.
"Right. As I see it, you follow the orthodox style of Ebenholz."
"That is correct."
It couldn't be helped. Since the only thing I had ever seen, heard, and learned was the Ebenholz way, the foundation of my swordsmanship was the Ebenholz style longsword technique.
It was a method that didn't suit me. I'd never even thought that it fit.
Priya must have seen that in me as well.
"Ebenholz uses a longsword. It's a sword style possible primarily because the bloodline of your house is physically strong. Ebenholz truly wields the sword as if painting a picture, but to do so requires tremendous physical strength and a powerful body."
"...Yes. I am aware. It doesn't suit me."
The time had come for me to let go of Ebenholz. I was ready to walk my own path.
"I want to break away from the Ebenholz sword. That is why I hired you."
Priya's brow furrowed.
"Idiot."
"…What?"
She looked at me as if I were pathetic.
"From what I can see, you were born with a body more suited for the Ebenholz sword than any of your ancestors. You're a far better fit for it than even your father."
"What?"
"Jefestian doesn't use a longsword, does he?"
Jefestian did not use a longsword. The orthodox Ebenholz longsword technique dictated a blade length of 1.6 meters, but he wielded a paedo (saber) just over 1 meter long. The other parts of his style were that of Ebenholz, but it wasn't the orthodox style, at the very least.
"Listen well, kid. In my eyes, you are the purest form of Ebenholz. You might even be the last Ebenholz to ever exist."
The last Ebenholz to ever exist. Those words sent a shiver down my spine.
"You can't run away, and you shouldn't run away. You are Ebenholz, so where could you possibly go to escape that? Your body itself is the proof. All you have to do is walk the path your house has paved. Now listen carefully. This is the theory lecture."
Priya held up three fingers.
"The archetypal sword styles of the Empire are divided into three major streams. Of course, other kingdoms have their own schools, but these three are the roots."
Honestly, I had little interest in the origins or history of swordsmanship.
"The first is the stream called 'Leo'. It's a fierce and direct style of swordplay. It primarily uses two-handed greatswords or longswords and emphasizes overwhelming the opponent. The archetype of your House Ebenholz is this very Leo."
Leo, named after the lion. I had heard of this ancient sword style before.
"The second is the movement known as 'Aquila'. It's fast and sharp, like an eagle. It uses light and keen longswords or rapiers, exploiting an opponent's openings with speed and precision. Most smallsword techniques are based on this Aquila."
Priya stared at me intently.
"The last is 'Serpens'. They are flexible and unpredictable, like a snake. They often use dual swords, curved blades, and even unorthodox weapons like whip swords, so the specifics vary from one practitioner to another."
Suddenly, her gaze was imbued with mana. I felt a sensation that seemed to see through my bones, my muscles, my very flow of mana.
"You were born with the strength of the lion."
I blinked and asked back.
"Me?"
I was slightly taken aback. Weak, untalented, the shame of Ebenholz, a pushover, high pride, low self-esteem… I had heard such things ad nauseam, yet her expression was completely serious.
"Just look at your body. I hit you dozens of times with that branch, yet not a single bruise has formed. You moved that fast, yet there's not a single sign of muscle rupture or mana backlash. By my standards, you shouldn't even be standing there in one piece."
I unconsciously examined my body. She was right. There wasn't a single mark on the wrist, shoulder, or side I'd been struck. Far from muscle soreness, I didn't even feel a hint of stiffness.
"Come to think of it, you're right."
I was certainly different from before my regression.
But what was the reason?
Was it simply because I had gotten younger?
Or perhaps…
Suddenly, I remembered the thing squirming beneath my heart.
The mana core. The fragment of the 'Dimensional Predator' that had become a part of me.
The instructor, Priya, was mistaking an alien mana core for my own talent.
"Starting today, once a week, I will teach you the sword of Ebenholz."
She was quite the peculiar person. A non-Ebenholz, intending to teach the sword of Ebenholz to a trueborn son of Ebenholz.
No, seeing as Jefestian went out of his way to choose her, she might be from a branch family of Ebenholz.
"So, what's next?"
Deedle-deedle-deet—Deedle-deedle-deet—
An alarm rang from a bag in the corner of the training ground. It was a timer Priya had set.
"Three hours are up. Class is over for today. Good work."
She dusted off her hands and leaped nimbly. Like a cat, she vaulted over the wall and vanished.
"…No way."
Left alone in the training ground, I was dumbfounded.
...
In a dimly lit but stylishly decorated whiskey bar, Priya was lost in deep thought with a glass of expensive spirits before her. The moments from just before replayed in her mind like an afterimage.
The young knight who had charged at her.
The one who had crossed half a dozen paces in an instant, daring to breach her domain.
That little Ebenholz, with his bright yellow hair and eyes, was truly like a bolt of lightning. A movement that seemed to defy time, transcending common sense.
"Hmph."
Priya sat back in the creaking chair and stared blankly at her whiskey glass.
"Hyper-acceleration, is it?"
Much about Maximilian's sudden burst of speed was inexplicable. First, it's impossible to generate such speed with physical strength alone. Human muscles and bones cannot withstand that level of velocity. Therefore, precise mana control to act as a shock absorber is essential. One must wrap the muscle fibers in mana and protect the joints to absorb the recoil from the movement before it becomes possible.
But Maximilian had shown no such measures.
So what, then, was that bizarre speed?
Was it a part of the secret art passed down through the Ebenholz House? Or was it an innate, peculiar constitution unique to that little Ebenholz?
Countless hypotheses flashed through her mind, but the conclusion was already set.
"He was born with the most refined physique in the entire history of Ebenholz."
He had simply been suppressed by his cowardly nature until now.
She had thought the Ebenholz lineage had reached its peak with Jefestian, but it seemed there was one more step to go.
Priya took a sip of her whiskey.
"Tastes good. This is why the capital is great."
Either way, it didn't matter to her. Maximilian was completely different from the public's perception of him as frail. He was by no means a 'weak' man.
On the contrary, he held a dangerous potential that was impossible to predict. But so what?
All that mattered was that she got paid.
"Hey, bartender. Give me another glass of the Mexico 33-year."
She had received a million dollars for just three hours of instruction.
Jefestian was truly a generous son of a bitch.