Chapter 176

9.

A knight with brown hair.

Noah squinted as she suddenly approached.

‘Rimer Yen Lapis.’

The first woman to achieve the title of Master.

However, she is not a Named Character. She is destined to perish alongside the Rubens Empire before confronting the Abyss.

“Ah, sister!”

Seeing Rimer, Fertisha waved her hand with delight. In contrast, Rimer sighed with a face devoid of any smile.

“…Tisha.”

“Yes?”

“Why were you planning to go to the Source of Magic?”

A question shot out like an interrogation.

Though her voice carried a hint of pressure, Fertisha dismissed it lightly.

“I was just a bit concerned?”

“Concerned about what?”

“The spirits kept whispering. They said they sensed a familiar smell coming from over there.”

She pointed southeast.

The direction of the Source of Magic.

Rimer let out a short sigh and warned again.

“Even so, you must not go.”

“But…”

“The Source of Magic is dangerous. Just this year alone, all sorts of incidents have occurred.”

Disappearances, isolation, monster attacks, and so on.

All of these incidents happened within the last six months.

At Rimer’s words, Noah made an awkward face. The reason being that all the incidents she mentioned were linked to Ulan.

“Couldn’t I at least go and just take a look at the entrance?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then what about just looking from a distance…?”

“If you keep being stubborn like this, I will tell our uncle about the conversation we just had.”

The moment the word “uncle” slipped out, Fertisha’s mouth snapped shut. The ‘uncle’ Rimer referred to was a euphemism for Chartang.

“…”

If her intention to approach the Source of Magic reached Chartang’s ears, she might have to leave the Academy.

Fertisha, fully aware of this, pouted her lips in displeasure.

“Fine, I won’t go.”

“Good, you absolutely must not.”

Rimer insisted one last time.

Fertisha nodded with a sulky face. Yet, it seemed she still held some lingering regret as she kept glancing toward the Source of Magic.

Just as Rimer was about to issue another warning.

“Um, excuse me…”

Suddenly, someone spoke up.

It was the blonde girl who had been with Fertisha. As Rimer turned her gaze, the girl continued, her face tense.

“Are you Lady Lapis?”

“I am, but who are you?”

“Ah! I’m, um…”

The girl stuttered as if flustered.

After a moment, she bowed politely and introduced herself.

“I-Ivella Elea’ad!”

After her brief self-introduction, she lifted her head, her face flushed with excitement.

“It’s truly an honor to meet you! I’ve admired you since I was a child!”

Ivella couldn’t hide her excitement.

Her words were genuine.

‘I mentioned it in my past life, didn’t I?’

The reason she picked up a sword, and the knight she admired most in the world. It seemed that knight must be Rimer.

“So, um…”

Just as Ivella was about to say how she had wanted to meet Rimer, she cautiously asked, as if making a serious decision.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask Lady Lapis for guidance?”

“Hmm, for guidance, huh.”

“You can refuse if you’re busy!”

Ivella waved her hands hurriedly.

She appeared to be making an effort not to burden the knight she admired too much.

Meanwhile, Rimer shot a glance at Ulan behind her, and after a moment, she smiled and replied.

“No, I think it’s fine.”

“That means…!”

“Since the training ground is nearby, let’s have a light duel. Without using mana. How about it?”

“I would be honored!”

Ivella’s face lit up with joy.

The two soon headed to the Military Department’s training ground, with Ulan’s group naturally following behind.

10.

The Military Department’s training ground.

As a duel was suddenly set up, spectators began to gather in twos and threes.

Mostly students from the Military Department.

A few professors were present as well.

This made sense.

A duel between a promising talent and one of the Empire’s Masters would surely be an excellent sight.

As they warmed up and prepared, Rimer gazed intently at the girl before her.

‘Ivella Elea’ad.’

In fact, Rimer knew who she was even before she introduced herself.

If someone had even once interacted with Fertisha, she had already gathered all the information.

‘She’s the illegitimate child of Count Deorg.’

Blessed Blade, Istan El Deorg.

While it was true she was an illegitimate child, it also meant she bore his blood.

So, curiosity piqued.

I wonder if she inherited his talent as well.

With her eyes sparkling, Rimer lightly swung her training wooden sword and spoke.

“Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Ah, I’m ready now.”

“Good. Then let’s get started?”

“Yes! I look forward to it!”

Her spirited reply came back.

Immediately, the atmosphere in the arena shifted.

The two faced each other with swords in hand.

Both assessing their distances, without even needing to wait for one another, their feet struck the ground at the same time.

Like a flash, their swords cut through the air.

After exchanging a few strikes, Rimer appeared to notice something and squinted.

‘This is…’

This isn’t Deorg’s swordsmanship.

She could assert that confidently. Because she had seen Istan El Deorg’s sword before.

And now, there was not even a trace of Deorg’s influence in Ivella’s sword. However, this wasn’t particularly strange. It was rather expected.

‘Because she’s an illegitimate child.’

Deorg’s swordsmanship is the unique sword style of the family.

Only the heirs who bear the family name can learn it. Thus, it was not odd that Ivella lacked the signature of Deorg’s swordsmanship.

‘And…’

There was one more peculiar point.

It was the fact that Ivella’s sword style was unlike anything Rimer had ever seen before. Lowering her sword, Rimer muttered.

“Interesting sword style.”

“Hehe, thank you.”

“It’s not from the Empire’s swordsmanship, where did you learn it?”

“Ah, I made it myself.”

“…What?”

Rimer could only stare in disbelief.

It was a natural reaction. Creating a sword style is not an easy feat.

It’s not just about swinging a sword; each strike must embody form and structure.

In other words, it’s an extremely complex and intricate process that takes a long time. So, to say she had already created her own sword style was astonishing.

‘Should I test if it’s real?’

Rimer’s gaze sharpened.

Simultaneously, her sword changed, turning into a ferocious weapon that resembled the Southern Blessed Blade, Istan El Deorg.

Fwoosh!

A barrage of relentless strikes.

Despite the considerable pressure, Ivella calmly received Rimer’s blows. It was in this process that Rimer finally realized.

‘It’s real.’

Ivella’s sword was a proper swordsmanship that encapsulated form and style.

And at times, she could wield a sword that completely strayed from established forms.

‘But it’s not just random slashing.’

It was indeed threatening.

Rather than moving along a fixed path, her sword danced freely like the wind.

And one more thing.

Rimer had another epiphany.

“Just to check, when did you create that form?”

“Uh, that’s…”

“It’s fine, just tell me.”

As Rimer pressed for an answer, Ivella scratched her cheek awkwardly. Then, in a calm tone, she responded.

“One minute ago.”

Just as expected.

Ivella’s sword did not adhere to any specific form. It flowed and changed fluidly according to the situation.

That was Ivella’s sword.

And it was a method that Rimer, bound to conventional swordsmanship, could not utilize.

‘Where on earth did…’

such a talent come from?

Rimer sincerely admired her. Then, she posed another question.

“Did you come up with that method on your own?”

“Huh? What do you mean by that…?”

“I’m asking whether you realized you don’t have to be tied down by swordsmanship.”

To be honest, she found it hard to believe.

Rimer herself only gained that realization after reaching the Master level.

Meanwhile, right after Rimer’s question.

Ivella shook her head.

“No, Ulan taught me.”

The day after the entrance exam ended.

She had asked Ulan, who she happened to run into in the woods, for advice. And at that time, Ulan had given her a response she had never expected.

“Discard your family’s swordsmanship.”

Such a radical answer.

Ulan’s advice continued.

“Increase the power you place into the sword, while minimizing superfluous movements. Lastly, find a swordsmanship that is uniquely yours, not bound to your family’s.”

If you do that, you’ll reach Master much sooner.

Ulan spoke with conviction.

Remembering that moment, Ivella shyly smiled.

“I started changing from that point.”

She let go of her family’s swordsmanship and discovered her own sword. That was the sword that discarded formality.

Once she finished explaining her background.

Rimer’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How is that possible?”

No matter how much advice you receive, discarding your family’s swordsmanship isn’t an easy task.

Moreover, from what she gathered, Ivella and Ulan were practically strangers.

So, what gave her the confidence to accept Ulan’s advice so readily? Just as Rimer wore a perplexed expression.

“It’s because it’s Ulan.”

“…What?”

“I can trust anything Ulan says.”

In her eyes, there was no trace of doubt.

A gaze filled with absolute certainty and faith left Rimer momentarily stunned.

At the same time, curiosity surged within her.

What had she seen alongside Ulan that she would have such unwavering faith? Rimer stole a glance at where Ulan was.

A while later.

The fiercely ongoing duel appeared to be wrapping up.

Thwack!

In a fleeting moment, a decisive blow was struck. A strong impact followed, and Ivella lost her sword.

“…I admit defeat.”

She readily acknowledged her loss.

At that point, she had pretty much lost the match simply by losing her weapon. As Rimer approached with a smile, she chirped.

“You did wonderfully.”

“Really?”

“Yes, if I hadn’t reached the Master level yet, I would have surely lost.”

It was not an empty compliment.

Although she had just reached the level of a High-ranking Knight, Rimer could assert that Ivella’s swordsmanship was on another level.

Even in real combat, she’d have no trouble facing an Expert.

‘Oh, speaking of which…’

As she offered Ivella her words of encouragement, a sudden thought crossed her mind.

The Empire’s genius in swordsmanship.

The heir of Deorg, Himel Deorg.

Remembering that person she had seen once, Rimer couldn’t help but break into a grin.

‘There’s a real genius here after all.’

Although Himel’s skills were remarkable, they simply couldn’t compare to Ivella. To be more objective, the gulf in talent was entirely different.

‘He might become a Master someday if he works hard enough, but…’

Ivella was different.

She was destined to become a Master.

She had the talent for it.

‘The only variable would be timing.’

Echoing Ulan’s earlier statement, Rimer returned her sword to its sheath. Meanwhile, she found herself pondering.

‘Maybe, in the near future…’

the Empire will see its sixth Master arise. If Ivella had heard that thought, she would have been grinning from ear to ear.

Just then, Ivella cautiously asked.

“Is there anything I can improve on?”

“Nope, it’s perfect.”

The firm answer came back.

Knowing that offering clumsy advice was worse than saying nothing, Rimer shook her head.

Also, it was true that it was perfect.

“And since there’s a great warrior beside you, it would be much better to ask him.”

Rimer gazed intently at Ulan.

After the duel ended, Fertisha, who had been watching from outside the training ground, rushed over.

“Good job, sister.”

A cool drink and a dry towel.

However, Rimer did not accept them.

“Sorry, but could I take it later?”

“Huh? Why?”

“The duel isn’t over yet.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

Fertisha, seemingly confused by Rimer’s answer, tilted her head. At the same time, Rimer suddenly drew her sword.

The sword pointed toward the outside of the training ground.

The tip of the sword was aimed at the very person she had been watching just moments before.

“Ulan Bator.”

A calm statement followed.

A smile formed on her lips, and the once dry gaze sparkled with life.

And that moment.

Rimer’s true intention was revealed.

“I seek to learn from you.”

Her eyes sparkled like bright stars.

It was the heartfelt intention she had concealed all along.

An entirely combative gaze.