Trish Snowfield, a scion of the prestigious Snowfield family—the sa family that birthed the Sword Saint. It was a family of swordmasters, and the young lady of such a family was no exception. She was a brilliant swordmaster and aura user, one many expected would take over the title of Sword Saint in the distant future.
Such an exceptional individual was currently seated beside Art. Of course, such an occurrence wasn't a coincidence but his intention from the beginning.
As the bus moved, Art—too nervous to speak to the girl sitting beside him—took out his phone and began scrolling through the internet just to relieve his anxiety.
He had co to this world with a system: the [Disciple Cultivation System]. And while its effects were unknown, he did, however, know what it wanted him to do.
It wanted him to take the main characters of the ga as his students—but it failed to ntion one glaring problem: How the heck was he supposed to do that?
Right now, as he stood, he was far weaker than the ones he was supposed to teach. And even taking that out of the equation, most of them already had incredible teachers. What the heck was he to offer them?
When it ca to basic subjects, he was pretty good in that. But here, unless you were the Bow Saint, math wouldn't keep you alive. He could not offer any of his students anything that hadn't already been taught to them. And even if the original Art had sohow gotten a job in the academy—and if he had been a good teacher—he still ended up dead...
For a mont, a grim imagery flashed in Art's mind, causing him to clutch his right arm. For a mont, his mory had been unblocked as he was once again reminded of Art's... no, his future.
Maybe because of that, he finally gained the courage to speak.
"You're a swordmaster!"
Taking in the bits of Trish's personality that he rembered, he ran a few simulations in his mind and chose the most successful scenario: the weak-appearing mysterious man on the bus.
Trish, with her eyes closed—seemingly trying to harness her aura—softly opened them, her sharp gaze burning with suspicion.
The strange man had been eyeing her since the bus station, and while she was confident in handling him if he tried anything, she wasn't too bothered to hear him out and see what he was interested in.
"Yes!"
So without much thought, she nodded, her fingers patting the cloth-wrapped sword resting on her thighs.
"I see. That sharpness in your eyes made it clear, but it doesn't hurt to also ask."
Placing his phone in his pocket, he smiled.
"Sharpness?"
Intrigued by his observation, she muttered with a questioning gaze.
"Yes, one can tell the type of weapons a warrior wields through their eyes."
Placing one leg over the other to denote a sense of elegance, Art continued in a playful tone.
"A spearmaster has a deciphering gaze—the kind that searches through an individual for any possible weakness. A bowmaster has a calculating gaze, always simulating the pathway of their projectile. Those who follow the path of the fist have a serene gaze, one in complete tune with their body. And finally, a swordmaster wields a sharpened gaze, one harboring their intent."
"That being?"
"To cut, of course!" Art shrugged.
Left sowhat speechless, Trish kept her gaze on him, trying to assess him.
[Trish has shown an interest in you.]
[Emotion ter: Interest Lvl 1]
[Affinity for Aura has increased.]
He felt a strange sensation wash over his body, but he kept his composure and continued.
"A good swordmaster... no, a warrior is not judged by their ability to display their intent, but their ability to hide it.
"You're saying I'm a bad swordmaster?"
She seed offended as she furrowed her brow.
[Trish Emotional ter: -1]
Seeing the notification, Art panicked slightly, shaking his head in disapproval.
"No! Displaying intent is sothing warriors cultivate from habit. It's akin to how vampires grow a taste for blood once they see it. It's normal, but it can also be a weakness."
"Can you educate in what way?"
Seeing he ant no offense, her expression softened as she placed her gaze—full of anticipation—on him.
"Well... for a vampire, the inability to control their taste for blood can lead to them going berserk. For a swordsman, however, if they are unable to hide their intent, it can lead to their opponents being able to predict their attacks."
"That's strange. My teacher never taught that,"she muttered.
"Of course they wouldn't, because that is sothing only those experienced in combat can observe."
"So you're a veteran?"she asked.
"Yep!" He nodded, giving her a thumbs-up.
It was all lies, but he needed to earn her attention in whatever way he could. He could face the consequences later.
She didn't seem convinced, however, she soon began leaning closer, her gaze assessing his worth.
At first, she seed disappointed, sensing no aura from Art. But soon, her eyes widened. Then, with a thoughtful expression, she pulled back.
[Trish Emotional ter: Lvl 4 Interest]
[Aura mastery increased.]
Once again, the familiar sensation washed over Art's body as he felt his body tense with power.
"Were you disappointed?" he teased.
"..."
She didn't answer, but judging by her complicated expression, Art knew she wasn't.
Honestly, he hadn't done much. He just followed the trope of hiding one's strength. In this world, one's level of strength was gauged by the level of their mana or aura.
High ant strong, and small ant weak.
Since his body hadn't yet learned to use aura—unlike the original Art—he emitted none. Hence, he was supposed to be an anomaly.
On a scale of one to ten, his aura emission would be zero. And for one to achieve such a null state, it ant either they had not awakened their energies... or they were hiding their strength—sothing only a few powerhouses in this world could do.
So Trish had concluded Art was a powerhouse... even though she was absolutely wrong.
"I'm so glad I passed Aura training back ho."
Seeing the nervous glances Trish was throwing at him, Art sighed, feeling a mountain of burdens crash onto his shoulders as he moved to the next phase.
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