By Zephyria 
As soon as the Imperial Genealogy Class ended, I headed to the throwing knife technique practice grounds.
Since I had been late from the very first class, I wanted to prove my enthusiasm for the lessons. I concentrated throughout the class, was diligent in all my answers, and tried not to think of anything else for even a single moment.
Unlike the Imperial Genealogy Class, the Practical Flying Dagger Technique Class had no other lessons immediately following it, making it a good time to ask various questions.
Rubel had previously advised me that it would be best to ask questions after class, as Wilton Roberts only came to the academy on Wednesdays and Thursdays, so there was nothing to hold me back.
Perhaps because of that. When I briefly detained Professor Roberts after class, he turned around promptly, as if he had been waiting for a long time.
“Professor.”
His gaze, which simply looked at me intently without a reply, was chilling. I calmly spoke my mind.
“There is something else I wish to learn besides throwing knife technique.”
“What is it?”
“I am curious about the ways you breathe, walk, and conceal yourself.”
Wilton Roberts taught only one subject. Practical Flying Dagger Technique. It had been the same last semester, and the semester before that.
It was greedy to covet what he himself refused to teach the students. Knowing that, I still yearned for it desperately.
Wilton Roberts did not smile. I knew his gaze was scanning me. I did not move. Inwardly, I wondered if the Yin energy he possessed was related to his martial arts.
“Do you want to become an assassin?”
“No.”
“Then why do you want to learn such things?”
I answered immediately. I did not hesitate.
“Because I do not want to leave any regrets.”
My past life was one of regret.
Everything I was doing now, having been reborn in this land, was something I could not do in the Central Plains even if I wanted to. What blocked me was my birth, my nature, my character, and my pride.
If I had been more diligent and devoted myself to training from a young age, I might have reached a higher realm. Then, I might have been able to save more of my kin.
If I had known propriety and treated my parents and elders with utmost respect, I would have had fewer regrets after they died and faded away.
If I had not distanced myself from throwing knife technique and stealth techniques out of concern for appearances, they would have been of great help in moments of crisis.
I could not count how many times I regretted not teaching my nephews how to hide their bodies beneath corpses, rather than just charging headlong at the enemy.
There were times when all their deaths felt like my fault, as I was the one who taught them.
The reborn me trained diligently and was respectful to elders. I coveted all the esoteric skills I had not learned.
The things that remained as regrets at the moment of my death, the things I had wanted to try and the things I regretted, remained as deep brands on my heart.
Wilton Roberts’ answer did not come immediately. I clenched my fists tightly in tension. I straightened my back.
I had considered that no martial artist in the world would easily teach their esoteric skills to a complete stranger.
However, I had the desire to learn even if it meant kneeling and clinging to his ankles to beg.
If this academy were a sect, and I were his disciple, perhaps if I pleaded and begged…
Wilton Roberts, who had been looking at me intently, tilted his head slightly. I felt that slanted gaze was like a snake’s. I waited, holding my breath. Roberts opened his thin lips and gave his answer.
“I cannot spare much time.”
“…Then!”
“After class, like now… I will spare about an hour.”
“Thank you!”
I saw the corners of his lips lift slightly higher than usual, faintly upwards.
I bowed respectfully with a beaming smile, filled with joy. Placing my right hand on my left chest and bowing slightly at the waist was a gesture of utmost reverence, learned from Sierren.
When I looked up again and our eyes met, he said with clear pronunciation.
“No need for thanks.”
I felt a deep sense of fulfillment. I felt it was good that I had spoken up. A thrill ran from the top of my head.
Wilton Roberts checked the time and immediately led me to the martial arts training ground, suggesting we start right away. On the way to the training ground, now cloaked in darkness, he made another trivial joke.
“If you want to kill someone, wear white.”
“And why is that?”
“Because white clothes, unstained by blood, will prove your innocence.”
I did not laugh. I nodded seriously.
Rubel had previously mentioned that Wilton Roberts preferred people to believe his words literally rather than laugh when he made a joke.
Indeed, when I readily agreed, he laughed out loud with satisfaction.
As with the talk of black clothes, I thought he was surprisingly attentive to clothing. Perhaps it was because he was a man who knew well how to disappear from sight, like a fleeting shadow.
I even thought it would be good if I could learn the Bone Contraction Art from him.
We arrived at the martial arts training ground.
Even within the sparsely populated small training ground, this was the most secluded spot, with weeds growing between the training mats.
I, who hadn’t even known such a place existed, made sure to remember the way. Wilton smiled once more as he saw me surveying the surroundings.
The first thing he taught me was breathing.
I breathed according to the secret incantation of the Great Expansive Divine Skill of Azure Sky. However, Wilton said my breathing method was too conventional and not suited for stealth and silence.
Sierren did not have an internal energy cultivation method. Instead, what he taught was how to hold one’s breath for a long time and breathe shallowly.
“Breathing is desire. If you abandon desire and forget the fact that you must breathe, you will reach the realm you desire.”
“Is this a realm that can be reached through meditation?”
“If you cannot sit still and hold your breath, you are no martial artist. You must be able to run without breathing.”
After a moment of thought, I informed him about my Light Footwork.
Not only the Limitless Steps and Shadowless Steps, but all my walking techniques, I demonstrated them all. The promised hour passed, and even when the moon was high overhead, I could not return to the dormitory.
Wilton Roberts pointed out a few of them and demonstrated them a few more times, saying he would teach me something good after the next class ended.
I was so excited that my heart pounded.
❖ ❖ ❖
The next day was Advanced Swordsmanship class. I greatly praised Rubel, telling him that things went well with Wilton, and it was all thanks to him.
Seeing my joy, Rubel also beamed and bowed his head, saying it was good. As I gently stroked his head, I wondered when this child had become so affectionate.
However, he was a child who had grown close to me gradually, like being soaked in water. I felt there was no point in trying to pinpoint a specific moment, so I just pinched his lovely cheek once more.
This day was for sparring with Lucilla.
Lucilla’s primary sword art was the Siren sword technique, wasn’t it? It was flowing sword art, like a river and like the waves. She was a different type of formidable opponent from Rubel. Both linear movements and fluid curves had great advantages, so it was impossible to say which was better.
Occasionally, auras would burst out like sparks and fall away.
Without needing to check, I knew Lucilla’s skill had also improved significantly compared to last semester. I thought it was quite remarkable that she showed no lack of skill even when sparring among younger children.
As if Maelo Sanson could read my thoughts, he praised us both, saying our realms had improved greatly since last semester. I did not hide my pleased expression.
Last week, Mage Boulder had tested his Circulating Qi. This week, it was Douglas Mustang’s turn.
Certainly, Douglas’s attitude towards martial arts was different from Boulder’s. His posture, sitting in Lotus Position, was precisely measured. Although I had corrected his posture a few times, he had undoubtedly practiced consistently on his own. At first glance, one might mistake him for a Buddha statue.
His eyes, as he sat with a straight posture and looked at me, were clear and bright.
“In my opinion, internal energy is interpreted as accumulating purified, non-physical Mana in the body.”
His explanation to me before starting Circulating Qi was not much different from his teaching.
“The part about receiving the light as heavy… I understood it as drawing in Mana from the atmosphere and purifying it to accumulate it in the body. I will draw it in with Mana, but control the flow with Aura.”
“…Yes.”
“The goal is to shape the purified Mana in some form after Circulating Qi. Then, please proceed.”
Interpreted in Sierren’s way, it was not incorrect.
I hoped his mental imagery would be correct. With him seated, I pulled over two individual sofas, and Boulder and I each sat down.
Under our gaze, Douglas closed his eyes and began to regulate his breathing.
And Mana gathered.
It was not internal energy. Unrefined energy responded to Douglas, who was calling to it, and surged like a storm.
Douglas was, after all, a powerful individual who could freely wield the Aura and Mana of this world. The things of this world obeyed him. Mana, rushing from afar, swirled around him.
Like moving within a sphere that handled Purification Formulas, materialized Mana, drawn out like fine threads, was steadily drawn into his body following his breath.
I gripped the armrest of the sofa, feeling uneasy.
I opened my eyes wide. I strained to use my Eye Force to see properly.
Douglas’s Qi and blood were strong, but he was not accustomed to the flow of Aura. He always used Aura externally, not internally. Each time the unrefined Mana touched a vital acupoint, his fingertips twitched.
Every time his shoulder or fingertips spasmed painfully, I felt an urge to stop him immediately.
I forced myself to endure.
Thus, one cycle of energy. Just one round, and the Mana he had purified successfully passed through all the acupoints he had targeted initially. However, the speed did not decrease. I narrowed my brow.
Like a stone rolled down a high mountain, Boulder, recognizing the flow of Mana that had begun to race without stopping, hastily began to chant.
Cough. Blood spurted from Douglas’s tightly shut lips.