Chapter 14

“The external wounds are almost healed. You can start removing the bandages, except for the shoulder and leg.”

The middle-aged priestess, who had been checking the condition of my leg, nodded with a reassuring smile. Though, with her tired, dark eyes and a scar running vertically across her lips, her expression wasn’t exactly comforting.

Her pristine white priestess robe, which hadn’t had time to be washed, was stained here and there with dark red spots.

The holy symbol hanging from the end of the white cloth wrapped around her forehead swayed gently, gleaming a crimson red. It was a golden ornament of two differently sized semicircles joined together—the symbol of Shaulite, the Goddess of the Sun and Life, one of the Eleven Great Deities.

I nodded in gratitude, feeling my condition had improved significantly.

It had already been two days since I lay in bed, looking like a torn rag. Two rounds of healing blessings had managed to restore my appearance to a somewhat decent state.

The recovery speed was absurd, far surpassing the capabilities of ordinary blessings.

A military chaplain, was it? She didn’t seem like an ordinary priest—more like a bishop-level figure.

Well, to heal such severe injuries quickly, an ordinary priest wouldn’t have stood a chance. She was probably the highest-ranking chaplain among the border count’s retinue, or something like that.

“However, that kind of behavior is unacceptable,” the priestess said, shaking her head as she pointed to the bed across from me.

Nigel was doing one-armed push-ups while in a handstand. Sweat dripped from her chin, forming small puddles on the floor with each movement. Her swollen arm muscles trembled as if cursing their owner.

Her heated body emitted a faint steam, and the humid warmth reached me.

It was hard to believe this was the same person who had struggled to move just a day ago.

Are all the Empire’s knights monsters like this?

After just one day, she had removed her bandages and had been at it since yesterday. With the priestess’s blessings and the effects of potions, she had recovered enough to pull off such feats in a single day, unlike me.

Even Marquis Ludwig, who had visited briefly yesterday, was stunned by the sight. He seemed about to say something but just sighed and clenched his jaw, which was quite amusing.

The deep wrinkles on the Marquis’s forehead probably had a fair share of Nigel’s contribution.

“The wounds aren’t fully healed yet… but then again, Sir Nigel has been like this for more than a day or two. It’s pointless to try and stop her.”

The priestess looked at her with a mix of pity and exasperation, but Nigel, oblivious, continued her push-ups in silence. Was this a soldier’s unwavering determination, or just stubbornness and lack of awareness?

Well, many soldiers have personalities like that.

They’re not bad people, and their individual abilities are outstanding, but they’re overly serious and rigidly adhere to their principles.

The type that makes your body tired if they’re your superior and your head tired if they’re your subordinate—honestly, it’s frustrating. Nigel was exactly like that.

So, I guess my head is going to be tired from now on.

I let out a long sigh in my heart. The road ahead seemed daunting, like a rookie’s military life.

…At least she follows orders well, so I should count that as a blessing.

—

I removed the bandages and moved my stiff jaw around. Good, it’s moving fine.

The severed earlobe had grown back and looked fine from the outside, but when I pressed it with my finger, it sank in, startling me.

So, the torn left shoulder and the gouged right leg must be in a similar state.

I recalled the advice the priestess had given before leaving.

Unlike cuts or fractures that just need to be reconnected, regenerating completely lost body parts takes time. Walking around is still out of the question.

“How’s your body feeling, Princess Hasalleur?”

Nigel, who had finished her workout, wiped her sweaty body with a towel and approached me.

“Better than yesterday. Much better than the day before, when I was practically a corpse. Quite a relief, don’t you think?”

I was still lying in bed, while Nigel, who had already finished exercising, looked a bit annoying. I subtly mocked her, hinting that it was a relief for her that I was recovering, considering I almost died because of her misunderstanding.

“That’s true. The injury delayed the response from the Imperial family for quite some time.”

She didn’t get it.

Nigel nodded, seemingly relieved. She’s so earnest… I don’t even know what to say…

“In that case, we can start your Imperial language studies right away. I almost couldn’t keep my promise to you, Princess, so it’s truly fortunate, as you said.”

Ah, right. I forgot about that.

I don’t want to…

Studying a foreign language for the first time in this condition? My head already hurts just thinking about it.

But I have to do it.

If I don’t want to be called a barbarian who can’t even speak properly, it’s a must.

“Fine, bring the materials…”

I muttered in a drained voice.

The burden of civilization is too heavy…!

—

The two days of lessons were brutal.

I had to pay the price for neglecting foreign language studies in my childhood with my entire body.

—

On the fourth morning, my body had finally recovered somewhat.

I removed the bandages and tested my shoulder. It was a bit stiff, but it moved fine.

At this point, combat might still be difficult, but daily life shouldn’t be a problem.

Nigel, on the other hand, seemed fully recovered, already dressed in new clothes and standing guard beside me.

She wore the same crimson coat with shoulder and chest armor as before, but with a few additional pieces.

Long iron plates covered her arms from the wrists to the elbows, and two plate skirts hung lightly from her waist, pressing down the coat’s hem. The chest armor had also been reinforced with additional plates to protect her abdomen and neck.

…It feels like she’s specifically reinforced the areas I injured. Must be my imagination.

I was staring at her with an inexplicable unease when Nigel spoke up.

He tilted his head.

“Princess Ha-shal-leur? Is there something you need me to do?”

“What’s with that armor? It’s a bit different from last time.”

“Ah, the armor I wore last time was lightweight training gear. It was too damaged, so I disposed of it. This is the armor I usually wear.”

“So that was for training. No wonder it didn’t cover much.”

It only had metal on the shoulders and chest.

“…About that time, may I ask you one thing?”

“You don’t have to be so formal. Back then, you were pretty blunt with your words.”

And with quite a fierce tone too. It was like you were a completely different person.

“If I offended you, I apologize.”

Nigel bowed his head and explained.

“While I am now your attendant, at that time, I was facing you as an enemy knight, hence my behavior.”

“You’re so earnest it’s almost weird. Fine, go ahead and ask.”

I don’t know what you’re hesitating to ask, but if it’s something I know, I’ll answer.

“Where did you learn Imperial swordsmanship?”

“Imperial swordsmanship?”

“Yes, the technique you used to deflect my thrust when your sword broke. Utilizing the long blade to redirect an opponent’s attack—it was clumsy, but undoubtedly the Imperial Knights’ formal swordsmanship.”

I definitely did something like that during the fight. But I don’t really know how I did it.

It’s a problem I can’t figure out no matter how much I think about it, and you had to ask about it.

“I heard you usually carry a longsword, so I used one for our spar. But I’ve heard the Ka`har mainly use short, curved blades. They don’t typically use techniques that utilize the length of the blade… Given your sword and the fact that your mother was from the Empire, was she perhaps a knight?”

Hmm…

I’d have to ask Or-han about that.

I couldn’t answer carelessly.

Ha-shal-leur’s mother, was it Ai-mel-ra?

If I said she was a knight and she wasn’t, or vice versa, it could cause issues.

Which one is it?

If my mother was a knight, my moves wouldn’t have been so clumsy, as Nigel pointed out.

But it’s also hard to say she wasn’t, given that Ha-shal-leur used an Imperial longsword instead of a Ka`har blade.

Either way, giving the wrong answer would be problematic.

Nigel might bring up this conversation with Marquis Ludwig later.

And if it’s incorrect information, that could cause trouble.

They spoke in Imperial to keep it from me, but Marquis Ludwig and Shane seemed to know about Ai-mel-ra.

Given how chaotic things were afterward, I don’t remember exactly what they said.

But if I give the wrong answer about my mother’s profession, Marquis Ludwig will think I lied.

And then he’ll keep wondering why I lied.

But the premise of lying is already a mistaken suspicion, so no matter how much I think about it, I won’t get a proper answer.

In the end, all these unnecessary suspicions will just snowball.

…It’s better to just play dumb here.

Rather than answering as if I know and being wrong, it’s better to insist I don’t know from the start. What can they do about it?

“I don’t know if my mother was a knight. She never wielded a sword in front of me.”

“Is that so? Then where did you learn Imperial swordsmanship—”

“I just copied what I saw you do.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

Every night in the hospital bed, I replayed Nigel’s swordsmanship in my head.

By now, I can probably mimic a move or two.

So, in a way, I did learn by watching Nigel.

“It’s not a technique you can master just by watching once… It seems Princess Ha-shal-leur has an exceptional talent for Imperial swordsmanship.”

“Really? Maybe I’ll learn it properly someday. Though I doubt there’s an Imperial knight willing to teach a Ka`har.”

I casually tested the waters.

Given Nigel’s personality, he’d give me the answer I wanted, right?

“If you wish, I can teach you in my spare time. I’ll need to get permission from the Marquis first, but I don’t think he’ll oppose it.”

“Alright. Let’s do that.”

As expected.

Our Nigel is so kind.

I recalled Nigel swinging his sword again.

Learning it would definitely come in handy.

Relying entirely on Ha-shal-leur’s instincts was too dangerous.

A violent impulse that burns away all reason, urging me to fight recklessly until I turn to ash.

It’s like putting a thin leash on a wild wolf and whipping it to command it.

One misstep, and it could take my life.

In truly dangerous situations, there’s no choice, but I’d rather avoid it if possible.

After all, even when I was on the brink of death, it urged me to keep fighting.

In that sense, Nigel’s swordsmanship was ideal.

Prioritizing defense, using the longsword to its fullest to deflect and counterattack with precision.

In the end, my attack broke through, but that was only because of Ha-shal-leur’s instincts.

I didn’t even know the basics of swordsmanship, so I was completely outplayed.

“Shall we head back to the guest room? A reply from the royal family should arrive today, so it’s best to prepare for our departure to the Capital.”

“Prepare? I didn’t bring much besides my weapon and a few valuables that could be sold.”

Come to think of it, what do I need to bring to the Academy?

Marquis Ludwig said he’d support me, so he’ll probably handle that, right?