Chapter 24

Chapter 24
Chapter 24

She possessed a natural gift for the blade.

This realization first dawned on her when she was ten years old.

In the midst of her daily labor, her half-brother approached and tossed a practice sword made of wood toward her.

—Hey, let’s have a match. You carry noble blood in your veins, so you should at least grasp the basics of swordsmanship, shouldn’t you?

It was a transparent lie.

This was the very same sibling who had habitually dismissed her as a lowborn, refusing to even admit they were related by father.

She had never once gripped a weapon, nor had she ever been permitted to share a meal at his table, yet he was suddenly inviting her to “play.”

The malice was obvious, but Felicia lacked the standing to decline.

—I’m going first! See if you can stay on your feet!

With a thrill-seeking cry, the one-sided assault commenced.

He would feint his movements, and the instant her balance faltered, the wooden plank would strike.

Whenever it collided with her limbs or torso, a pained yelp escaped her, the impact stinging like fire.

Driven by the need to escape the suffering, Felicia became consumed by a primal desperation.

Then, a shift occurred.

‘I can perceive it.’

Inexplicably, the path of the incoming wooden sword turned vivid.

More specifically, she began to read the tension in his muscles and the placement of his feet as if she held the blueprints of his soul in her palms.

Before long, Felicia was deflecting every blow directed at her.

She even started to slip her own strikes through the openings that periodically appeared in his form.

—S-stop! That’s enough! Stop it! Argh!

Her brother, despite years of formal instruction, was being systematically dismantled by Felicia.

When the red haze finally lifted from her vision, she noticed her father standing nearby, having witnessed the entire exchange.

Her heart raced with the thrill of discovering a latent capability.

For a fleeting second, she allowed herself to hope for a word of approval from him.

That hope was instantly crushed.

—Damnation. This girl—a blight upon my house—has stolen the aptitude that belonged to my son. I find everything about her repulsive.

—Your Grace! This is a rare blessing from the heavens!

—What of it? What value is there in the talent of a girl who cannot be utilized? Get her out of my sight. Put her to work in the stables!

—Your Grace!

It felt as though the foundations of her world had shattered.

Her father had beamed with pride over the microscopic, insignificant talent of the brother now groveling at her feet.

Yet, regardless of the magnitude of Felicia’s genius, he would not grant her even a passing glance.

On that afternoon, as the final ember of her hope died out, Felicia wept until her vision blurred and her eyes grew heavy.

However, despite the injustice and the sorrow, she never abandoned the wooden sword.

She cherished the sensation of moving with absolute autonomy, exactly as she envisioned, more than anything else in her life.

When she swung that practice blade, she felt transported to a different reality.

Her other brothers and the house servants mocked her.

They claimed that no matter how skilled she became, she was fated to perish as a common laborer.

Their insults were fueled by envy and a sense of inadequacy, but their words carried a harsh truth.

‘I am merely a servant, after all.’

Who would ever acknowledge Felicia—a woman of no rank—as a true warrior?

A gift that could shake the heavens if held by a man was considered more worthless than spoiled produce in the hands of a maidservant.

Consequently, she lied to herself, calling her practice a simple pastime.

She insisted there was no reason to feel bitter, as she only did it for her own enjoyment.

“I do not know what your father perceived, but in my eyes, I see only a warrior favored by the gods. A peerless prodigy with the power to tear the sky and part the sea, yet one who cannot even draw a free breath, shackled by the weight of her birth and gender.”

The barrier she had painstakingly constructed around her emotions crumbled at those words.

The truth was, it had all been a facade.

She didn’t want to live and die in servitude; she yearned to be a knight.

She wanted to etch the name ‘Felicia’ into the memory of the world by wielding her blade across the fields of war.

She wanted everyone to recognize that she existed.

She had only surrendered because she thought the path was barred.

“Right now, many will be like my father, unable to see. They may snicker in the shadows, calling me a madman. But that mockery will eventually transform into adoration. They will say that Lucian Valdek was the man who found the next Sword Saint, who nearly faded away in the darkness of history.”

The man standing before her was speaking of the very ambition she had buried.

He claimed she could build a legacy.

He even suggested she could reach the pinnacle as the next Sword Saint.

It felt like a fever dream.

In truth, she still struggled to fully grasp the possibility.

Yet, regardless of Felicia’s uncertainty, the man was entirely earnest.

The tears that began to fall at this first taste of true recognition would not be stayed.

‘If I could truly become a knight…’

She had never once considered who she might choose to serve.

How could she select a lord when she couldn’t even enter the order?

But if, by some miracle—an impossible, absolute miracle—she could be knighted…

‘I want to pledge my life to this man.’

“Your tongue is as silver as it has ever been.”

The Grand Duke cut through Lucian’s speech with a frozen expression.

His look implied that unless Lucian could provide proof, his words were nothing more than air.

“I shall observe. I will see what fruit your choices bear.”

Grand Duke Sigmund turned away sharply.

However, in the moment the Grand Duke pivoted, Lucian caught a glimpse of it.

The edge of the man’s mouth twitched, just for a second.

‘He truly cannot be honest with his feelings.’

He could have simply acknowledged that his third son had done something beneficial for the family, but he chose to tear them down so that Lucian would be forced to raise them up.

It was the Grand Duke’s specific way of staging the moment.

*Your master sees the worth in you that I refuse to admit. Therefore, be thankful for the fortune of finding a worthy lord and remain steadfast.*

It was a convoluted method, but it served its purpose.

Because of it, Lucian was able to demonstrate the depth of his conviction to the others.

‘My thanks, Father.’

Lucian offered a slight bow to the Grand Duke’s retreating form with sincere appreciation.

No matter how much coldness he projected, Lucian could sense the underlying intent.

“Ho ho, it seems not only the Third Young Master, but Your Grace has arrived as well.”

At that moment, Eisen’s voice echoed from within the training grounds.

Even though they had not yet rounded the corner, he had clearly detected their approach.

“Is this not a matter of presenting a potential pupil to the Sword Saint himself? Even if I were not the patriarch of Valdek, as a man of the blade, I could not restrain my interest.”

“A pupil. The Third Young Master did mention something regarding that.”

Eisen’s look as he stroked his beard was hard to read.

He still seemed to harbor deep skepticism toward Lucian’s claims.

Lucian immediately introduced Felicia to Eisen.

“Sir Eisen, I have come to fulfill my vow. This is the person I spoke of.”

“Hmm.”

Eisen’s eyes raked over Felicia.

Under the intense pressure of the Sword Saint’s gaze, Felicia gave a stiff, nervous salutation.

“My name is Felicia. To the Sword Saint…”

“That is sufficient.”

“Pardon?”

“I have no need for your name. I am not interested in it. Just step forward and take up a wooden sword.”

Eisen drove a practice sword into the ground of the arena and tilted his head.

After a brief pause, Felicia walked toward the embedded weapon.

He had thrust it down with such intensity that the wood was buried two spans deep into the stone.

As Felicia pulled the blade free with a grunt of exertion, Eisen’s eyes sharpened.

“Where did you acquire such primitive mana control?”

“P-pardon me?”

“Your internal energy. You lack even the most basic foundation. Who was your instructor?”

Stung by the disappointment and the sharp tone, Felicia was at a loss.

But eventually, unable to endure his chilling stare, she whispered an answer.

“I… I do not have one.”

“What?”

“I have no teacher. I simply… watched what the others did and tried to replicate it…”

“You taught yourself circulation and even mana control just by watching? Do you expect me to believe such a thing?”

“What is… circulation?”

When Felicia asked the question, the Sword Saint was briefly struck dumb.

She could manipulate her energy but didn’t even know the terminology?

“It is the method of moving mana through your entire frame and then bringing it back to your core.”

“I… I am not familiar with that. I never witnessed anyone doing such a thing.”

“Ha! This is becoming more ridiculous by the minute. Then try to mirror this as well!”

Eisen’s face hardened as he stood completely motionless.

The onlookers tilted their heads, confused by the Sword Saint’s behavior.

What was she supposed to copy when he wasn’t moving?

But Felicia watched Eisen for a moment and then mirrored his stance awkwardly.

“Like… this?”

“…!”

Eisen’s eyes went wide.

To the others, nothing had shifted, but there was a clear resonance between the two of them.

“Can you… replicate this too?”

A moment later, Eisen spoke with a voice that wavered.

Again, there was no outward change, but Felicia gave a nod.

“Is this what you did?”

“Ha, haha!”

Eisen erupted into a hollow laugh, and the fire in his eyes changed.

If he had previously been looking at a common stone on the path, he was now inspecting gold to verify its weight.

“Raise your blade! Now!”

“Pardon? Kugh!”

Clang!

Jarred by the sudden command, Felicia instinctively brought up her wooden sword.

It was because Eisen had suddenly closed the distance and struck.

As Felicia managed to react, Eisen unleashed a relentless torrent of blows.

Clack-clack-clack-clack!

The rhythmic strike of wood against wood echoed sharply.

Lucian and the rest of the group watched the display in a trance.

Whether he was holding back to match her or not, the speed was manageable, but the incredible precision of his technique was overwhelming.

The throat and the thighs, low at the shins and up to the midsection, from the feet to the hips.

These were attacks that even a veteran soldier might miss in the heat of the moment.

Yet, Felicia was tracking and neutralizing every single one.

“Can you withstand this!?”

CRACK!

“Ugh!”

A sharp gasp escaped Felicia as she absorbed the impact of Eisen’s strike.

The pure physical force, bolstered by mana, seemed to exceed her limits.

Clenching her teeth, Felicia immediately altered her defensive posture.

Crack! Screeeech!

“Ho!”

A sound of surprise left Grand Duke Sigmund’s lips as he observed.

She was positioning her sword further forward than the actual point of impact to dampen the shock, then allowing the strike to slide away the moment they touched.

It was a simple concept to describe, but a staggering feat to perform while a heavy piece of wood was flying toward your skull.

As Felicia instantly adapted her response, Eisen’s style shifted once more.

Felicia was terrified by the blindingly smooth transitions, but she somehow maintained her defense.

Three minutes passed in that manner.

“Haa… haa…!”

Rough, labored breaths came from Felicia’s lips.

Her frame was shaking, likely because her muscles were hitting their breaking point.

Seeing Felicia still attempting to prepare for the next strike despite her exhaustion, Eisen halted.

Eisen stood perfectly still until her breathing calmed, then shifted his attention to Grand Duke Sigmund.

“Your Grace, what was your assessment?”

“Why do you ask me? This is the arena where the Sword Saint determines his own student.”

“I have already made my choice. I am simply curious how it appeared to Your Grace’s perspective.”

“Hmm.”

The Grand Duke rubbed his chin thoughtfully before responding.

“I have only utilized that move twice in actual battle.”

“Twice?”

“The maneuver that girl just employed. Meeting the sword ahead of its target and letting it glide. The theory is basic, is it not?”

Any warrior swinging a blade naturally aims for the point where their momentum is peaked.

The moment a weapon is met further forward than that, its kinetic energy is naturally lessened.

It’s a basic rule that even a novice brawler would understand.

“But it is remarkably difficult to pull off in a life-or-death struggle. If you miss the parry, you are essentially guiding the enemy’s blade into your own chest. Even if you succeed, one slip and your hand is ruined. I still carry a scar on my knuckle from my second try.”

“A wooden blade lacks an edge, however.”

“Instead, the bones in the fingers would be shattered. For a man of my station, it might be healed, but for someone with no resources, it is a career-ending injury. They would have to put down the sword forever.”

Yet Felicia had committed to it without a second thought and succeeded.

Simultaneously, she had devised and carried out similar counters every time the pattern of attacks changed.

Even in a training match, she was in a position where one mistake could leave her permanently maimed.

“On the field of war, a choice made in a fraction of a second decides if you live or die. At the very least, she is more exceptional than anyone in that regard. Perhaps she is not a knight yet, but as a wielder of the sword, her potential is staggering.”

“You saw it correctly. I, too, was moved by that very point.”

“Then now, Sir Eisen, you provide the answer. What did the Sword Saint perceive?”

At the Grand Duke’s prompt, Eisen turned his gaze back to Felicia.

Felicia looked dazed, as if she hadn’t even processed that she was being discussed in such high regard.

“I have one question for you.”

“I… I am listening, sir.”

“Can you perceive mana?”

After a moment of uncertainty, Felicia nodded her head.

“If you are referring to that faint blue light that appears when the sword is swung… yes, I can see it.”

“Hahaha.”

An echoing, transcendent laugh broke from Eisen’s lips.

It was the kind of laughter that seemed to release a burden he had carried for decades.

After looking up at the sky for a moment, Eisen eventually lowered himself to one knee before Lucian.

“Third Young Master, please grant this old man your forgiveness for even a fleeting moment of doubt.”