Chapter 22
“How did things go with hiring a new gardener the other day?”
“We’re still looking for the right person.”
Renoa and Bibi walked through the garden as they talked. A little behind them, Jain followed as if guarding their shadows.
Renoa was fourteen this year.
Though still too young to have even gone through her coming-of-age ceremony, the practical running of this mansion rested entirely on Renoa.
She was, beyond any doubt, a noble—more specifically, a member of the Edelheid ducal house that commands the continent.
Whether she was young or a woman, no one indulged her.
To survive in the bloodless, merciless world of politics, you had to know how to manage your own mansion perfectly.
That was the way of this world.
“Do it as quickly as possible. The branches are already nearly covering the entire mansion.”
The biggest advantage and drawback of this mansion was that it was in the forest.
If you neglected it even a little, the branches would quickly clutter up the mansion.
If no gardener came every day to trim the branches, it was only a matter of time before the mansion was swallowed by the woods.
It wasn’t unreasonable that the previous gardener quit as if fleeing, saying he’d thrown out his back.
“I’ll raise the pay and find a younger, more capable gardener.”
The conversation was supposed to end there.
A sharp cracking sound from somewhere made Renoa stop walking.
“What was that sound?”
“I think it’s from the training grounds. Maybe it’s the sound of the apprentice knights training.”
“Hmm.”
“Shall we take a quick look?”
“...I suppose so.”
The two headed for the training grounds.
When they arrived, it was practically a marketplace.
Candidates, knights, and even maids had gathered in a circle, watching something.
“What are they doing?”
“Who knows.”
Then Knight Silvan and Renoa met eyes. The moment he saw her, he jumped and hurried over.
“Y-you’re here, young lady?”
“What’s all this commotion?”
“We were sparring a bit.”
“Sparring...”
Renoa’s green eyes narrowed.
Sparring among candidates was nothing unusual. But Silvan was busy watching her reaction.
As if there was something in that crowd he didn’t want Renoa to see.
“Tell me the truth. What is it?”
“...Recently, the slave you brought in said he knew how to handle a sword, so he’s sparring with Candidate Gerard.”
“Leon?”
“Yes.”
Who would have thought his name would come up here. He had already been bothering her lately.
“Move.”
Renoa pushed past Silvan and cut into the center of the uproar.
What was happening inside was quite a sight.
Leon and apprentice knight Gerard were sparring.
It was a fierce exchange, with attacks and counters, advance and retreat.
“Crap, this slave...!”
Gerard was one of the best among the apprentice knights, and one of the leading candidates to become Renoa’s escort knight.
To outsiders, Gerard fighting so intensely with a mere slave would just look like play.
“What’s this? Gerard’s getting pushed back?”
“It’s obviously an act. Can’t you see how pleased that slave looks?”
“Gerard, it’s boring, so wrap it up already.”
The snickering of his peers buzzed in his ears. But Gerard had no room to answer them.
-KWAANG!
“Ugh...!”
Leon attacked mindlessly, as if he didn’t even know what defense was.
Before the first strike had even finished, a second came, and before the second could land, a third followed.
A relentless assault that allowed no opening even for an instant came crashing down.
“What the hell is this bastard...!”
Each strike is heavy. My wrist feels like it’s going to snap.
Leon’s swordsmanship was unlike anything Gerard had ever seen.
Untamed, raw swordsmanship.
It was less like sparring with a person and more like facing a wolf. He charged in heedless of the damage he might take.
-Whoosh!
Gerard quickly threw his head back.
A wooden sword sliced across the bridge of his nose.
A sharp whooshing sound split the air.
“Tch!”
At this rate, I’ll lose.
Defeat.
The moment that word flashed through his mind, Gerard clenched his teeth.
To a mere slave, not even a knight.
“I’ll never allow that, even if I die...!”
Gerard gathered his strength. A faint red haze shimmered over the wooden sword.
Using mana during sparring without permission was strictly forbidden, but he didn’t care.
Leon wasn’t even a properly trained candidate—just a slave. Killing him during sparring would be no problem.
Gerard thrust his sword forward.
A red flash streaked across.
Just before the mana-enhanced wooden sword could pierce Leon.
-Thwack!
Gerard’s sword was sent flying skyward.
“What?!”
Stunned, Gerard looked up.
Before he knew it, Knight Lans had stepped between them and knocked Gerard’s sword aside.
“That will be all.”
“Sir Lans?”
“This has gone too far to call it sparring, Gerard. I’m sure mana use was forbidden.”
“But...!”
“I’ll hear the details later. The young lady has arrived. Show proper respect.”
At the mention that Renoa had arrived, Gerard flinched and quickly scanned around for her.
If he’d taken just one more step, it would have been over. He clicked his tongue softly.
“I greet you, young lady.”
“Slave, what are you doing? Hurry up and greet her.”
“Ah, yes...”
Leon also gave an awkward bow.
“Why did you stop? It was just getting good.”
Renoa walked between the two of them. The crowd parted left and right like the Red Sea.
Renoa met Leon’s eyes.
“You sure do have a lot of free time. Sparring with the candidates and all.”
“I was just going to hand out sandwiches. I said I didn’t want to spar, but they kept threatening me and making me do it.”
Leon hurriedly made excuses while measuring his chances of escape.
“So they say?”
“The candidates definitely provoked him, but that slave also willingly accepted the sparring.”
Renoa looked at Leon again.
“That’s right.”
“But he... um.”
“Speak.”
“They teased him for being small down there.”
“Down there?”
“There.”
“Idiot? Say it properly.”
“His dick.”
“....”
For a moment, Renoa blinked, not understanding, then frowned in disgust.
Bibi added from behind.
“Young lady, among men, genital size is a very serious matter. Mocking someone for being small is practically equivalent to insulting his parents—”
“Please shut up, Bibi. I’m not interested.”
“Yup.”
When Renoa glared at her, Bibi pretended not to notice and looked away. Renoa let out a long sigh, looking exhausted.
“So. Who won?”
“If the sparring hadn’t been stopped, Candidate Gerard would likely have won.”
“Really? I don’t really think so.”
“Huh?”
Lans, not understanding what she meant, asked again. Renoa calmly continued.
“If using mana is forbidden in the first place, then the moment Gerard used mana, he’d have lost by foul. Isn’t that so?”
“...You are correct.”
“That’s right. Congratulations, Leon. You won.”
“Ah, yes...”
Even after being told he’d won, Leon looked awkward and not at all happy.
Gerard, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his resentful expression. Renoa read the mood.
“Gerard, looks like you have something to say? You were cornered enough to use mana against a mere slave.”
“I was careless! If we do it again, I’m sure I won’t lose...!”
As if she’d been waiting for that very line.
Renoa tilted her head and looked toward the instructors.
“So he says Gerard was careless. Do you teach them that it’s fine to let their guard down when the opponent seems easy?”
“...We will properly retrain him.”
The training grounds, where Renoa’s soft yet blade-sharp questioning continued, no longer held the same heat as before.
All that remained was a silence that seemed to cut the flesh. Everyone held their breath. Even the occasional breeze seemed to be gauging the mood.
It felt like being punished as a group. Knights, candidates, and maids alike all desperately hoped this suffocating moment would end soon.
After a while, perhaps because she lost interest, Renoa turned away without a shred of hesitation. Just as she was about to leave the training grounds.
“Young lady.”
Someone stopped her.
Everyone shut their eyes tight. They barely managed to suppress the groans and harsh words that almost burst out.
Wondering what fool was so oblivious, they looked for the owner of the voice.
It was Leon.
“What is it?”
“I have something I’d like to say.”
“You brat! How dare a slave speak so carelessly without knowing his place—”
“Enough. Say it.”
Renoa cut the knight’s shout off in one stroke and fixed Leon with a steady gaze.
At that gaze, cold sweat slid down Leon’s nape. It felt like his blood was drying up.
He wasn’t sure whether saying this was right or wrong. It might be a choice he couldn’t take back.
But.
“I want to learn swordsmanship alongside the candidates.”
He wanted to stop the future in which he would be ruined at Renoa’s side. In his mind, nothing was a better gamble than this.
If he wanted to survive, he had to move closer to death.
For that, Renoa’s trust was indispensable.
For a mere slave like Leon, it was the only way to remain right beside the young lady of this great house.
‘I’m aiming for Renoa’s escort knight.’
He had to seize that position.
Only then could he stay by her side twenty-four hours a day and control the variables.
Of course, the risk was beyond imagination.
Failure meant death.
One mistake meant death.
Even if he succeeded, it was uncertain whether he could obtain his freedom.
But if the future was death even while standing still, then this was the best struggle Leon could make.
“...What?”
Before Renoa could finish asking, a shout burst out beside her.
“You dare spout nonsense just because you have a mouth! Do you think knight training is child’s play?”
The one who burst out, face red with rage, was the master knight Silvan.
He had even forgotten that he had cut off the young lady’s words, and he bristled with anger.
The others were no different.
The candidates and knights thought the slave was getting above his station.
Even the maids who were cheering for Leon exchanged looks that said, ‘That’s going too far.’
A slave becoming a knight.
Nonsense.
Everyone here was certain Renoa would refuse, but.
“Do it.”
“Huh?”
“Young lady?!”
Renoa accepted calmly.
As expected, as if a rock had been thrown into a lake, the surroundings instantly grew noisy.
“Young lady! Though they are only apprentices, they are still nobles’ children or talents who will shoulder Edelheid’s future!”
“And?”
“To have such people cross blades with a lowly slave? That’s an insult to chivalry! What will people in the world say about Edelheid?”
At Silvan’s impassioned shout, the other knights and candidates also murmured in agreement.
For a slave to receive training on equal footing with them. Their shallow pride simply couldn’t allow it.
But.
“Ha.”
Renoa gave a short scoff, as if their resistance was ridiculous.
“Insult?”
Her green eyes flashed coldly.
“Is it not an insult when that great talent loses to a mere slave?”
“That was because Candidate Gerard let his guard down and suffered an unfair strike...!”
“Let his guard down?”
The corners of Renoa’s mouth twisted.
“If he let his guard down, that just means he’s incompetent enough not to judge his opponent’s strength properly.”
“....”
“In the first place, is it chivalrous to let your guard down because your opponent is weak? Whoever the enemy is, even if it’s a child, shouldn’t you go all out when it’s time to go for the throat?”
Silvan’s lips moved, but no words came out. No one could refute that.
The Edelheid family’s creed was thorough meritocracy. This was a place where results, not process, proved everything.
“How dare a mere knight speak of Edelheid’s honor in front of me. Have I really seemed that easy to push around?”
“....”
Biting his lip, Silvan reluctantly bowed his head.
The chill from just a moment ago was gone, and a smile like a child who had found an interesting toy now curved Renoa’s lips.
Recently, with Leon getting involved with her, she’d become more emotionally expressive.
“Good. If you want it, then do it.”
Renoa gave her approval.
Leon, who had worried she’d refuse, quietly let out a sigh of relief.
“However, there is a condition.”
“A condition?”
“Beat them all. Not just the candidates, but the knights too. No, beat every knight of the Edelheid ducal house with skill alone.”
“....”
“Why? Not confident? Are you saying you ran your mouth in front of me when you can’t even do that much?”
Renoa was still smiling.
Leon wasn’t ignorant of the fact that it was a blatant provocation.
“Young lady, when is your coming-of-age ceremony?”
“Three years from now. Why do you ask?”
Leon curled up the corners of his mouth and answered, pretending to be relaxed.
“Three years. I’ll make it in three years.”
The die had already been cast.
By the time the main story began. By then, he’d catch Renoa’s eye and become her escort knight.
If the road ahead was a thorn field, he’d gladly walk it.
Leon made his bold vow, and Renoa answered his confidence with a smile.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
-Ding.
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Notice: Status is being reset.
■ Previous status : Servant
■ New status : Apprentice Knight
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