By Zephyria 
Edwin wouldn’t be seen until Monday, and Shayden, who couldn’t hide his sulky expression because his conversation with Marianne had taken longer than expected, was the tougher opponent. If it were someone I disliked, I could just ignore them, but I couldn’t find any way to appease a close comrade.
As soon as I pulled the fellow I’d been eagerly awaiting to his reception room and sat him down opposite me, he asked what I had been talking about for so long. I told him there had been some matters within the Department of Magic, but nothing that could be discussed outside, and he couldn’t hide his sulky, disappointed demeanor.
“Hmph,” a sigh close to a lament escaped me naturally.
Shierun is twice as peaceful and pleasant a place as the Central Plains, so I too have been growing to resemble its gentle disposition. Still, in my past life, I had spent my days punishing wicked evildoers with the resolute demeanor of a martial artist.
As is typical for those who wander the Martial World with a sword, my companions were ones for whom no news was good news. I’d usually assume they were doing well even without contact, only to offer my heartfelt condolences after they’d met a terrible fate and lost their lives, with only their heads returning.
It was strange and unfamiliar for him to pout and stubbornly refuse to speak, simply because I had spent a few hours with someone other than him, and had fabricated a story he didn’t know.
The reception room sofa was arranged with a table in the center, facing two opposing sofas. Shayden, sitting opposite me with his arms crossed, stared at the table without even touching his teacup. It was incredibly frustrating not knowing what he was thinking.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I called out to him in a stern voice.
“Shayden.”
“…Are we going to the Martial Arts Training Ground?”
“No, I meant for you to speak.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Aren’t you holding back because you want to say something?”
As he couldn’t answer, I tapped the center of the table a few times with my index finger, intending to catch his eye. Only then did our gazes meet. His light green eyes were brimming with disappointment. I considered scolding him sternly, but looking at his tearful eyes, I changed my mind.
“I know you care a lot about me. But I didn’t come here to be protected by someone. You might have seemed clumsy to me in some ways, but there are times when you seem that way to me too. Isn’t that what friends are for? To help each other when needed, and to be helped. Isn’t that enough?”
Though I spoke the truth, he didn’t protest; he just bit his lip hard. Not wanting to see him look down again, I tapped the center of the table once more to call out to him as he avoided my gaze.
“Hmm? That’s not it,” I said in a gentle tone, as if coaxing the wayward Michael. Only then did he part his bitten lips and make a sound, “I…” but he remained silent for a long time. I gently prompted him.
“Yes, you.”
“…I thought you didn’t consider me a friend.”
“…Why?”
“You don’t tell me about yourself. I just know about you.”
“You probably know I’m even worse than this, too.”
“…”
He closed his mouth again.
But this time, it wasn’t because he was trying to hide his displeasure; I could feel him thinking, listening to my words. I waited without rushing him.
While waiting, I thought of something else. Michael, who is now seven years old. If it were Namgung Jeong-yeon thirteen years ago, who never once helped raise that child, I would have fled without enduring this much. Still, I thought that perhaps I had broadened my mind over the years since the war ended.
After a long while, his answer finally came.
“…Yes.”
“Right, I am originally worse. I’m bad at memorizing names, bad at memorizing faces, and I don’t particularly like socializing or talking. In fact, even now, I don’t know if I’m speaking correctly. I’m more comfortable dealing with a sword than with people. It’s just how I was born in this life.”
“…”
“I don’t tell my father my stories, nor my mother. Does that make William not my father, and Shierun not my mother?”
“That’s a different situation, but—”
“It’s the same. To me, it’s the same. This body is still young and has much to learn. If you continue to help me during that time, what will happen?”
“…Are you saying I’m a hindrance?”
“No, I’m saying you might become a hindrance. You’ve been a great friend who has helped me immensely so far, and I want to continue our relationship just like this. What about you?”
“…”
“Will that be alright?”
“…Yes.”
“Right, since you know me well, you’ll know this too. I’m not someone who talks about these things at length. Or am I? Even so, do I seem to be pushing you away or treating you coldly? Hmm?”
He shook his head with a soft “Mmm-hmm.”
I let out a deep sigh and reached out my arm. I stroked his red hair, which had drooped over the table again, a couple of times. As I pulled my hand away, I heard a small voice calling, “Mika,” and I replied, “Hmm?”
It was a relief that he used my pet name again, after calling me “you” while he was sulking.
“…Do you talk about yourself a lot to your grandfather?”
“Hmm?”
“Even if you don’t tell your father and mother or friends, perhaps to your grandfather…”
“I don’t. Why did you think that?”
“Your tone earlier… No, it’s not that it was strange!”
As I coaxed and appeased him, I seemed to have slipped back into my usual comfortable way of speaking. I made an excuse, saying I was probably just nervous too, to him, who looked even more bewildered and flustered.
Shayden’s expression brightened, as if he had thought of something upon hearing that. He pressed his eyes with his sleeve, then pushed me away, telling me to hurry and go do some sparring in the Martial Arts Training Ground.
I only got up from my seat after we promised to study for the exams together over the weekend.
❖ ❖ ❖
Even though I felt completely drained from coaxing and appeasing the young children all day, my mood wasn’t bad.
Perhaps it was because my thoughts, which had shifted from Edwin to Young Master Moyong, reminded me of the companions I had in my past life. They didn’t have the cute, whiny charm of the people here, but none of them refused when I called them out for a sparring match when I was bored.
I had forgotten to change and came straight to the Martial Arts Training Ground, so running normally would be inconvenient. I decided to take a detour and go for a walk instead. Having been surrounded by people all day, I didn’t want to meet anyone, so I walked along the inside of the wall.
Although I hadn’t bothered to look closely before, Shierun Academy, true to its high reputation, had grand buildings and ornate gardens that were quite a sight.
Unfamiliar flowers released a deeper fragrance as the sky darkened, swaying gently in the breeze. The trees standing at a distance were trimmed in such a way that they were long and round from the base touching the ground to the highest point.
Even when I lived at Young Count Ernhardt’s Residence, I felt like I was living like an immortal, seeing flowers different from those in the Central Plains. I had newly realized that there was a wider world beyond my own.
The streets of the capital I saw today were also incredibly splendid and wondrous. I tried to vaguely imagine myself stepping into the Imperial Palace under the banner of the Imperial Knight Order, but it was difficult.
The shape of the trees and the scent of the flowers, the layout of the streets and the constellations in the sky—though Shierun and the Central Plains had nothing in common—the chirping of the crickets, which seemed to resonate with a similar sound, drew my attention. Was it already time for insects to appear? The weather was indeed mild.
Suddenly, a casual remark by Maelo Sanson came to mind.
He had said he would raise his aura whenever he saw something amazing or heard something.
Indeed, his words were true. During my time as a wandering knight-errant in the Central Plains, I had encountered assassins many times. The method for preparing for a sudden ambush was quite simple: just don’t let your guard down.
If I spread my energy, or aura as they call it here, like an invisible mist, I could see what couldn’t be seen with the eyes and hear what couldn’t be heard with the ears.
There were nights when the sound of a tiny cricket would resonate through my entire body like thunder.
Those were times I considered even that to be part of the atmosphere.
Tonight, I revisited the conversation with Douglas Mustang, which I had forgotten to ponder due to the unexpected dark visitor last night.
As he said, Shierun already had a conventional path to reaching Hwagyeong.
Most people could likely fend for themselves and live well without undergoing arduous training and cultivating internal energy.
So many things are different from the Central Plains. Why… why me?
…I think I finally understood why I was so eager to call the knights of my family my disciples and teach them internal energy cultivation methods.
I paused for a moment, standing by a well-manicured pond, and gazed at the moon’s reflection shimmering in the water.
Still not accustomed to looking at Donggyeong, the boy whose appearance was still unfamiliar, stood with the moonlight behind him, his expression hidden.
Circles created by fish repeatedly bloomed and faded on the dark surface of the water.
Perhaps, I was lonely.
A Sego is a power composed of clans.
Everyone I met was a brother, a younger brother, a cousin, or a younger cousin. They all practiced the same Divine Art, wielded the same sword, and wore the same clothes.
The Namgung’s robes were blue, resembling the sky, and it was customary to embroider cloud patterns in white thread on the sleeves. Even the Black Road thugs in the marketplace would scatter upon seeing the cloud patterns on the sleeves.
On days when I returned with a torn sleeve from an enemy encounter, I would entrust the robe’s repair to the seamstresses. This was during the time when I cared about appearances and couldn’t go out in tattered clothes.
Since other Namgung clan members also returned with torn sleeves as a daily occurrence, we visited the seamstresses almost every day.
The impatient ones would slip a bag of sweets to the seamstresses, asking them to hurry, and they would strive to get their orders ahead of their cousins in the same predicament.
At that time, in the Martial Arts Training Ground where we all trained together, the blue aura never faded.
Unlike the mages of this new land who deployed circles of different colors, the aura of the Great Expansive Divine Skill of Azure Sky was always blue. Even when swords clashed, sparks flew blue, and when exhaling, the breath was blue.
There was no reason for the blue to turn red, except at the end of one’s life. Perhaps that’s why we cherished the color blue so dearly.
I decided to let go of one of my selfish desires. I withdrew my gaze from the pond and walked on.
Yes, the Great Expansive Divine Skill of Azure Sky wasn’t even the best Mind Method in the Central Plains. Although the previous Namgung patriarch had reached the realm of Hwagyeong, he used the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Divine Art, not the Great Expansive Divine Skill of Azure Sky.
To recommend something inferior to the orthodox sects to the people I cherished in this distant world, and at such a late stage, was greed.
Unconsciously, I had indulged in excessive desire, longing to see those blue things.
When I asked Maelo Sanson for a new swordplay, I even had a fleeting, impulsive dream of abandoning it. It was fortunate that my ingrained habits were pointed out. In the end, they were traces I couldn’t detach.
Recalling the small sewing room that always smelled sweet, I felt a lump in my throat. The laughter of the women who sat in a circle, spinning thread in that cramped room, echoed in my ears like the sound of crickets.
Since I was still human and still held onto tender affections, after walking the entire vast grounds of the Academy and returning, the time spent washing away my fatigue with cold water was a little longer than the previous night.