Chapter 1
"Beryl. Isn't it about time you gave me a grandchild?"
"Dad, what are you expecting out here in the sticks...?"
Mornings at a backwater swordsmanship dojo began with one of Dad's incomprehensible mutterings.
I'm Beryl Gardenant. I'm an old man.
I'll spare you the details, but I run the swordsmanship dojo that's been in my family for generations, here in the sticks.
You might think I'm skipping a few too many details, but it's not as if I have anything else to add.
I'm an old man who runs a swordsmanship dojo in the sticks. That's all there is to me, nothing more, nothing less.
"No wonder you never meet anyone if you spend your mornings off meditating."
"You're the one who raised me that way, Dad."
Ever since he handed over the dojo and retired, he's done nothing but spout this kind of nonsense.
I'd like to meet someone too, if I ever got the chance. Damn it.
Given the family business, I'd spent my whole life playing with wooden swords for as long as I could remember.
My parents brought me into the world and raised me as a healthy boy, but it seems I didn't inherit Dad's exceptional talent with a sword.
Of course, I tried.
I didn't hate swordsmanship, and besides, out here in the sticks, there weren't any other hobbies to get absorbed in.
The curious years of childhood.
My teens, the prime of my life.
My twenties, when my mind caught up with my growing body and I came into my own, inside and out.
My thirties, when I continued to hone my skills through those fulfilling years.
And all the way to my forties, when the experience I'd built up began to pay off—I truly did spend more than enough time training.
But in the end, all I gained was a sword stroke somewhat better than an ordinary person's.
A stance just solid enough to call myself a swordsman.
Reflexes sharp for my age. That was about it.
If you ask whether I was satisfied, the answer is no. But I wasn't dissatisfied, either.
I had a strange sense of acceptance that this was as far as I could go. It also helped that Dad never expected too much of me and let me grow at my own pace.
"Don't you have at least one nice girl among your students?"
"Listen, Dad, a swordsmanship dojo isn't a place to meet women."
I cut off the nonsense Dad had just muttered.
Maybe it was because I was his son, but even so, he had no sense of tact.
I don't know whether Dad was thinking about his own age, but after he handed the dojo over to me, I discovered something new.
My swordsmanship had only ever been so-so, but apparently I had a decent knack for teaching it.
Even though the country protects us, there's plenty of danger out here in the sticks.
Take one step beyond the village fence, and you're in the wilderness. There are ferocious animals, as well as dangerous monsters. It's rare for monsters to come right up to the village, of course, but this is still far from a safe world.
Cities and the capital, on the other hand, are protected by sturdy walls and patrolled by knights and guards.
But the only people you find in places like this are those who, like me, make their living here, or hunters who hunt wild animals. Mercenaries and adventurers, the sort who don't stay in one place, sometimes stop by, but that's about it.
So, for that reason—or perhaps in spite of it—swordsmanship is in decent demand even in the sticks, both as a means of self-defense and a way to get ahead in life.
Unfortunately, I'm completely hopeless at magic. I don't know the first thing about it. I've spent my whole life swinging wooden and real swords, after all.
Mages who can use magic are rare even across the world as a whole. I hear the capital has its own mage corps, but their numbers are extremely small.
Ah...
Speaking of students, there was a girl who once seriously told me, 'When I grow up, I'm going to marry you, Sensei.' I was already too old to take her seriously, so I just brushed her off. She had beautiful, shimmering silver hair.
I'm getting off track.
The point is, I had a bit of a talent for teaching swordsmanship.
Maybe it was a matter of supply and demand, but my dojo had a lot of students for one out in the sticks.
From the neighborhood hooligans and the village chief's daughter to nobles from the city and their children.
Part of me wondered why they came to my dojo when there were any number of others, but the number of students directly affected the standard of living for my parents and me. We made our money from tuition, after all. This wasn't charity work.
"Well, how about doing something to repay your parents for a change?"
"I've taken over the dojo, and we have more students and more income. If that's not repaying you, what is?"
"One more thing."
"Come on..."
Good grief, Dad sure was energetic first thing in the morning.
Anyway.
I've been running the dojo for quite a while now, and among the students I'd taught, some had gone on to become high-ranking adventurers or join the country's own knight order. Well, a fair number had made something of themselves.
Some even came by often to give me updates after graduating, or sent me letters.
Though I had some talent for teaching, I knew my own limits. I was grateful and touched that they thought of me, but I couldn't help thinking that a mere old man from the sticks didn't deserve so much consideration.
I mean, come on, you get letters from the commander of the country's own knight order.
You must have better things to do—and other people to talk to.
Letters from big names who were far beyond my league, and the fact that my students had made it that far, left me strangely restless.
If only I'd had a little more talent with the sword.
Maybe I would have left this village.
"Well, you could at least let me hope a little."
"Yeah, yeah. If I happen to meet someone like that."
But that was just an impossible dream. At my age, I knew better than to think otherwise. My abilities had truly reached their limit.
...Phew.
Alone in the dojo Dad had left behind, I felt the crisp air against my skin.
It was a fine morning for meditation.
"Excuse me...?"
As I slowly settled into contemplation, I heard a voice that seemed to belong to a visitor.
Hmm, who could it be? Today was a day off, so it probably wasn't one of the students. Besides, most of the ones currently taking lessons were children. They'd come charging in without so much as a polite greeting.
"Yes, yes. Who is it?"
I got to my feet, my back having grown a little stiffer with age, and opened the dojo door.
And there stood a beautiful woman, her long silver hair reaching down to her waist and flowing behind her, her features dignified and striking.
"Sensei. It's been a long time."
"Um... could you be... Allucia?"
"Yes, Sensei. It's been too long."
Allucia replied, her refined expression softening into a gentle smile.
Right.
What could the commander of the country's own knight order be doing in a backwater like this? I wonder. I really do.