By Zephyria 
Marianne looked at Benjamin and questioned him again, as if to press him. She put on a sharp expression, but a laugh she couldn’t hide dangled at the end of her words.
“What about you, Benjamin? Do you have a problem with it?”
“No, I do not.”
But Benjamin’s expression was serious from start to finish. Satisfied with his quiet and earnest reply, Marianne quickly wrote their names on the paper in order.
“Alright. Then, since His Highness is His Highness, he’ll wash first, then Michael, and then Benjamin.”
Now that it was decided, I was curious about the reason.
“Why?”
“His Highness probably isn’t used to using a bathroom after someone else, Michael has to wake up early for breathing and regulating energy, and Benjamin… Benjamin, you just yield. You don’t want to?”
“Pardon? No, it’s fine. Let’s do that.”
Laughter burst out again, unavoidably. Once I started laughing, Ruben laughed along, and even Benjamin covered his face with both hands, his shoulders shaking. Marianne placed her hands on her hips and let out a dignified “Hmph.”
As he laughed cheerfully, Ruben tentatively raised a hand to ask for permission to speak, and Marianne nodded at him.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Um, instead of ‘Your Highness,’ I would prefer it if you used a title like ‘Senior’ or ‘Young Master.’”
“Ah, I’m sorry. It’s a habit… Senior Rubel? ‘Young Master Sierren’ is too grandiose, isn’t it?”
“Yes, like that. In a pinch, I’ll permit you to just use my name.”
“Aha, because we’re in the same group?”
“Yes. Because we’re in the same group.”
Benjamin, who had been watching, promptly spoke up as well.
“I will do the same, Senior Rubel.”
“Yes, thank you, Young Master Claudian.”
“You can call me by my name as well.”
“…Alright, Young Master Benjamin.”
“Me too, call me whatever’s comfortable.”
“Yes. I will address you as Young Lady Marianne.”
It was a good thing for close children to get along, so I, too, felt pleased. While they were sorting out their titles, Marianne, who had written down the washing order on a page from her notebook, drew long and short lines to create a daily schedule.
“While you all have swordsmanship class, I’ll be going to my magic class. But I still want to do the dawn training I did with Michael. What about you, Benjamin and Senior Rubel?”
“I would like to join.”
“The same for me.”
“Great. Then let’s wake up at this time every day to train together, then wash up, eat, go to class, meet up for lunch… then class again, wash up, eat, and sleep. If anyone has anything to talk about before bed, we’ll gather here.”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
With one cheerful and proactive person in the group, everything was decided quickly, which was nice. As I nodded in agreement, Marianne quickly tore out the page she’d written on, stuck it right in the middle of the table, and tapped it with her staff.
The formula she muttered was a 2nd-Circle Sticky Magic, a magic formula used to simply stick one object to another.
It wasn’t a difficult formula, but it must have taken a lot of effort to be able to use magic so naturally in the time it takes to blink. I felt a vicarious sense of pride and nodded with a pleased look, praising her.
Marianne smiled brightly and put away her staff.
“Well then, since it’s the first day, everyone go organize your things. See you at dinner. Dismissed!”
“Yes.”
“See you later.”
We each picked up the bags we had brought and entered our assigned rooms. I hadn’t expected Marianne to act as the leader with this group of people, but it also suited her surprisingly well, making me smile from time to time. With this group, it felt like nothing would be too difficult.
Dinner together was also very satisfying. Marianne chattered away, telling funny stories, while Benjamin would remain quiet before chiming in with a perfect remark that made everyone laugh. Ruben also readily shared his own stories and was affable, agreeing enthusiastically with others.
Exchanging “good night” and “sleep well” with Ruben at my door before bed also felt quite nice. This month will be very enjoyable and comfortable, I thought.
It was a gross miscalculation.
❖ ❖ ❖
The very next day, on the first morning of February, after finishing our dawn training, the simple act of seeing Ruben’s face as he came out of the washroom was an ordeal. His face flushed, the boy emerged pressing a towel to his wet hair and yielded the spot to me, but I was so surprised that I couldn’t open my mouth in time and ended up closing the bathroom door without a word of greeting.
The scent of the perfumed oil Ruben had used filled the bathroom. Just standing in the steamy room, still misty from the hot water, felt like I was doing something wicked.
What was happening to me? In my past life, I was someone who didn’t hesitate to wash in rivers or streams alongside dozens of warlords.
I suppose I still hadn’t truly grasped that I liked men. I now understood that knowing it in my head and realizing it by seeing it like this were two different things.
After a moment of hesitation, I splashed cold water everywhere to disperse any trace of the boy.
I couldn’t look directly at my own reflection in the mirror, my face flushed crimson. I’ve wasted my years. Forcing myself to calm down, I hurriedly washed up for Benjamin, who would be waiting for his turn.
Throughout breakfast, it was incredibly difficult to look Rubel straight in the face.
I was worried Rubel would get upset and question me again, but he didn’t. The boy looked at me blankly for a moment, then smiled as if it were nothing and turned his gaze away. Instead, I was the one growing anxious. Wondering if he had noticed something, I agonized over whether to speak to him, but ultimately gave up.
Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays were designated for swordsmanship classes with Maelo Sanson in both the morning and afternoon. Wednesdays and Saturdays were for classes about monsters with Professor Steven McCliff, and Sundays were for monster-slaying training.
And so, Maelo Sanson stood before the ten swordsmen—the three groups of swordsmen, excluding the three wizards—who had all gathered, and was the first to speak.
“Looks like everyone who’s coming is here.”
Laughter broke out here and there at his casually tossed joke.
Indeed, since they were his students, it was only natural that he already knew who had decided to climb the mountain range. After lightening the mood, Maelo Sanson continued, his voice firm as if giving a command.
“I trust that all of you here are skilled enough not to trip over your own swords. But complacency is always forbidden. In a real battle, you must know how to be more ruthless, more cruel, and more underhanded. What is the reason for that?”
“Because monsters are despicable creatures that possess intelligence!”
“Yes, that’s right. To survive, a monster will do all sorts of dirty and cheap things. But is that wrong of them?”
“No, sir!”
“To catch a monster, you too must learn to be cheap. There is no such thing as a righteous slaughter. All slaughter is a sin. So, are those who try to protect this land in the wrong?”
“No, sir!”
These were things they had heard and learned for several years, countless times. The voices of the children answering overlapped as one. What fine voices they had. Maelo Sanson, who was pleasantly listening to the resounding shouts, grinned and nodded.
“Right, to catch monsters, we must survive by being cheap. Obscure your opponent’s vision, set traps, and roll on the ground if you have to, but survive. Starting today, I plan to teach you how to survive dishonorably.”
Then, out of nowhere, he swung his sword, scabbard and all. The sword shooting straight for me was fierce and fast. Before my mind could even think, I drew my sword and blocked it.
Gu-uuung. My body, having collided with a massive force, was pushed back three or four steps. The startled children turned to look at me.
Without his breathing becoming the least bit ragged, Maelo Sanson continued.
“When a great force comes at you suddenly, drawing your sword to block it like this is the way of a knight. But this is an inefficient and human way. If I were a monster instead of a person, would I have tried to compete with strength like this?”
“…”
The sword was withdrawn. Maelo Sanson looked straight at me again.
He swung his sword in the same way.
This time, I didn’t parry. I threw my body to the right to dodge. But the sword pursued me relentlessly, and unable to evade it completely, I rolled on the ground. Thwack, thwack, thwack. By the time I had dodged all three strikes that stabbed into the ground, I had rolled a distance of eight paces, and my clothes were a mess.
“That’s right. You have to dodge like that. Well done, Michael.”
“…Yes. Thank you.”
Dazed, I took his offered hand and stood up.
As soon as he helped me up, Maelo Sanson turned to the other children.
“I will teach you all to do this as well. From now on, do not block my sword directly. Dodge it. If you don’t get hit by my sword for three hours, you won’t have to attend this afternoon’s class. Now, then.”
Maelo Sanson’s gray eyes glinted like a beast’s. Chaeng! Benjamin, who had blocked the instantaneously extended sword with his own, wore a look of dismay. After watching the child become a lone target, dodging and crawling on the ground, I threw myself aside again from the sword energy flying at me.
The ten swordsmen rolled left and right, dodging the sword strikes aimed at them.
Some couldn’t take it and drew their swords to block, while others were too flustered to block or dodge until the blade was at their throat. When that happened, they took a blow to the shoulder or waist with the scabbard.
I had expected the training to be harsh, but I hadn’t thought it would begin this way.
Maelo Sanson swung his sword for three straight hours without a single break, and all the children, dodging, getting hit, and rolling to evade the indiscriminate attacks, ended up looking a complete mess.
Their neatly tied hair was wildly disheveled, and their fine white shirts were stained a dark sandy color. Those with fair skin had their faces flushed red, and those with dark skin had their faces turn nearly black.
The feeling that the sword strikes aimed at me were particularly fierce was surely not a misconception.
Thanks to that, I, too, suffered a great deal.
I was well aware that the Sierren martial artists were not ashamed of Naryatagon, but I never thought I would have to roll on the ground for so long without rest. Because Maelo Sanson blocked every attempt to evade into the air, my mouth was gritty with all the dust I had swallowed.
Perhaps because he had been relentlessly pushing several children for a long time, Maelo Sanson, who had stopped his sword, also looked tired. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, laughed heartily, and shouted.
“Alright, that’s enough for now. Let’s go eat and then do it again!”
“…”
All ten children opened their mouths to answer, but no sound of “Yes, sir” could be heard.
I went to eat looking like a mess and ran into Marianne, who looked just as exhausted. We comforted each other with our eyes and ate listlessly. Saying that the afternoon class would be the same and we wouldn’t have the energy to wash, Marianne cast Clean Magic on us, which was a small mercy.