In his seventy years of life, Swordmaster Frederick had never encountered anyone as peculiar as the young girl standing before him.
For one thing, he hadn’t sensed her presence at all as she approached.
He’d known from the footsteps outside that two people were approaching the hut. Although he could usually gauge sothing about a person from their footsteps alone, accurately identifying "who" it was was another matter entirely. Still, when it ca to familiar footsteps, there were always subtle nuances that gave them away.
The footsteps trailing behind, for example, were those of his only remaining disciple. She’d once co to him, demanding to learn swordsmanship, trained to an impressive level, and then left abruptly, claiming, “This should be good enough for actual combat.” If she’d stayed, she’d likely have inherited the title of Swordmaster, yet her aspirations had never been solely about mastering the sword.
He’d pelt her with bowls, ashtrays, or even small pots every ti she visited. Not that he actually wanted to hit her—it was more of a habit, really.
But the steps in front, slightly heavier and fatigued, belonged to soone else. These footsteps, unlike his disciple’s lighter stride, were slower and wearier, yet carried a quiet certainty, a rhythm that never faltered.
“Hmm.”
Oddly, when the footsteps approached the cabin, he noticed a shift in them. It was as if the person had crossed so invisible threshold and adjusted their bearing.
Intrigued, Frederick picked up an empty basket from the table, holding it in readiness. Even if it hit, it would only cause a minor sting. And if they were right in front of the door, dodging would be a challenge.
He waited with the basket poised in his hand.
“Hm?”
Just one step shy of the door, the footsteps stopped, almost as if the person sohow knew he was waiting on the other side, basket in hand.
And then the door opened.
There was no one standing in the doorway.
“…Stop standing around and co in.”
After a few monts, the door revealed a young girl—young enough to be called a child in noble society, yet soone Frederick saw as little more than a kid.
She was dressed in fur clothing, her forehead beaded with sweat.
Had she sensed his presence and deliberately opened the door from a distance?
But judging by her posture—holding herself upright despite being obviously winded—it seed unlikely. Her expression was carefully blank, but her shoulders hinted at the strain.
And yet, there was sothing odd. She had no hint of the “presence” common to those trained in swordsmanship, almost as if she had no talent for it whatsoever.
“Master, I trust you’ve been well.”
His disciple entered with an annoyingly confident grin, her tone as bold as ever. Frederick lowered the basket, slightly disappointed.
“What brings you here? And who is this? You didn’t co alone, so you must not be here just to waste my ti.”
“Yes, well, I have a favor to ask. A little of both, really.”
As she spoke, his disciple’s gaze shifted to the girl.
Oh?
Having lived secluded from the world for fifteen years, Frederick felt a rare sense of intrigue bubbling up.
*
But the girl’s strangeness didn’t end there.
“So, you want to teach you sothing?” Frederick asked.
“Yes. I’d like to learn how to harness my inner energy—to steady my mind and bring my body into balance through ditation. I’d appreciate your guidance.”
“Hmm.”
Frederick narrowed his eyes as he studied the girl. He’d half-expected her to look intimidated, but she remained utterly composed under his scrutiny.
To him, it appeared she hadn’t intentionally concealed her aura, but rather lacked the ability to project it in the first place. In other words, she seed to have no natural aptitude for this path.
“You don’t appear to have much talent for it,” he said.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to dismiss her outright. There was sothing about her that set her apart from any ordinary child.
Maybe that cautiousness she’d shown at the door was just part of her nature.
“I may lack talent with the sword,” she replied, “but I have full confidence in what I already know.”
“Oh?”
Her words were spoken with such self-assurance that Frederick found himself taken aback. It wasn’t empty bravado but a conviction grounded in so kind of certainty.
“And I’m not asking you to teach for free.”
“A price, is it?”
Frederick looked her over carefully.
Perhaps, as a princess, she intended to offer him money.
“If I needed money—”
“It’s not money.”
—he’d be far wealthier by now.
This audacious princess clearly had sothing else in mind.
“It’s about strength,” she clarified.
“Strength?”
“Yes. You seek soone worthy to challenge you in battle, don’t you?”
“…”
She wasn’t wrong.
His life was nearing its end, and the chance to face a worthy opponent in a duel was sothing he longed for.
But…
“Are you talking about the Emperor?” he ventured.
“No.”
Her response surprised him.
“One of the Emperor’s children wields the sword. I believe you would find satisfaction in eting them.”
The princess held his gaze steadily as she spoke.
“If you wish, I can arrange for you to et.”
“…”
Her eyes didn’t betray a single hint of deception.
He glanced at his disciple, Jennifer, who rely leaned against the wall with a slight smile, as if amused by the exchange.
“Hmm.”
Frederick made a low noise of thought, then said, “Fine. I had nothing better to do anyway.”
*
The princess… did she have talent or not?
If asked, Frederick would say she had none.
And yet, sothing about her felt inexplicably odd.
By all appearances, she lacked talent. Her ability to absorb knowledge seed no different from that of an ordinary person, and the chance she’d master ditation in a single day seed slim.
But, strangely enough—
She was sohow already complete.
To be precise, she seed to have co to him in a nearly finished state.
As if she had spent months, perhaps without sleeping or eating, in deep ditation. Before he could teach her anything, she had already slipped effortlessly into a state of calm.
In re seconds, she seed to regain her breath and soothe her strained muscles, as though she hadn’t just climbed a mountain.
“….”
Her silence and composure held a tranquil, almost sacred air.
Frederick wasn’t the only one struck speechless.
…Could she have pulled this from the future?
It seed an absurd thought, but Frederick couldn’t shake it.
He paused for a mont, and then—
“Ha!”
He brought his hand down in a swift chop toward her head.
It wasn’t ant to be a serious blow, but it was no light tap either. If she were completely untrained, she would’ve taken the hit and likely been knocked out cold.
Yet, his hand sliced through empty air.
Though sitting cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees, eyes closed in ditation, she leaned back just enough to dodge the strike by a hair’s breadth.
Even in a ditative state, where she shouldn’t have sensed anything.
“Oh.”
Frederick let out a sound of interest.
She had no innate talent.
And yet, she was… complete. At her age, she was further along than he’d been.
Could she really have reached a level where she could conceal her aura to this extent? Had she already achieved such mastery that even Jennifer hadn’t noticed?
Then why had she bothered to co up the mountain to learn ditation?
Slowly, the princess’s dark eyes opened and t Frederick’s gaze with calm, unwavering certainty, as though she knew precisely what would co next.
She looked almost like the ancient statues he’d seen in the East.
“Do you have any serious intention to learn the sword?” he asked.
“I lack the talent.”
She rose smoothly to her feet, as though she’d already completed what she ca here to do.
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