By Zephyria 
Rubel and I, neither of us had ragged breaths.
It was the latter half of the semester. I had learned that even if I was desperate to pour out all my body’s energy, I shouldn’t. With every sword strike, I felt a thrill at the sensation of my surroundings disappearing.
The distance I had retreated in a single move from the previous attack was one jang. When his trump card failed, he became cautious. His calm disposition, which rarely rushed, showed even at a time like this.
The sight of his sweat-free, jet-black hair brushing against his dark eyebrows sent a tickle down my spine.
It was because his steps resembled the Limitless Steps. My heart warmed at the thought of the large child who must have taken many steps following the true steps I had left behind.
However, it was a mistake.
Because I knew the way the forms of the Limitless Steps unfolded, facing him had become easier than before. I pretended to hesitate as he approached right before my nose, then I leaped up and over his crown.
I drew my sword against his empty back. As he turned, a fierce wind arose. Barely, the sound of his sword, which blocked my attack, was familiar to my ears.
Without realizing it, I attached my sword to his and dragged it. Hoo
(I inhaled)
I did this, knowing that using the principle of Hoo to prevent the locked swords from moving was an unsuitable action when facing him, who used heavy sword techniques unlike those of the Central Plains.
The boy, realizing his sword was stuck, panicked. I saw his dark eyes waver from a close distance.
Suppressing a laugh, I stepped back. The boy followed. I knew my own wicked nature, which couldn’t help but test and draw out the realm of a talented gem when I found one. I stopped playing.
I pulled him in, then pushed him away forcefully.
I was a swordsman who used my right hand. Because I swung the hand holding my sword widely, his two hands, which held his sword with both, were lifted high. His guard opened, revealing an opening. I reached out with my left hand into that space.
It was a hand imbued with aura. If it landed properly, the child’s insides would be thoroughly shaken, but I didn’t care. He, looking at me, showed no sign of fear. His sword, having quickly regained its balance, was coming towards my neck like a dart.
His warm, thick chest pressed against my palm. The chilling blade touched my neck.
And the world stopped. Maelo Sanson’s aura had bound me and the boy together. The familiar sensation calmed the excitement that had surged to the top of my head. The Hundred Meeting Point on my crown felt warm. I took a deep breath, panting, and exhaled slowly.
“You should have fought while breathing. Anyway, I watched well. Both of you have improved a lot since before.”
I listened to Maelo’s voice. This match was my defeat. If it had been a fight rather than a spar, his insides would have been shaken, and my neck would have been severed. While bodily harm could be healed, there was no turning back after losing one’s neck.
Just as I was about to regret choosing hand techniques instead of swordsmanship, Sansone, as if sensing my thoughts, praised that part.
“First, Mikael. Giving up your obsession with swordsmanship and using your hands was a good choice. Trying to resolve your relatively short reach by closing the distance was also good. Finally, trying to resolve it by imbuing your hands with aura was creative. However, it’s too rough a method. You should refrain from using it unless it’s a very dangerous situation.”
The boy’s heart, which I could feel through my hand, pounded loudly.
Even though we both sparred while holding back our strength, our breaths were even.
Was this kid enjoying it as much as I did?
Suddenly, I felt greedy. Rather than seeing Rubel ascend to the throne, I wanted to keep him by my side and raise him as a martial artist.
It felt like a waste to make someone who loved sparring so much an administrator.
Maelo Sanson continued speaking.
“Rubel also looked like he was in great condition today. The trap you set by shortening your sword grip more and more to draw Mikael into your embrace, then attacking with the pommel, was particularly good. If Mikael had reacted just a little slower, the match might have ended then.”
After showering me with sweet words, Maelo, as a natural progression, began to list the flaws.
“However, using the footwork you learned from Mikael was a bad move. If you had turned to the right at the third step like this, you could have caught him off guard. Since you seem sufficiently familiar with the principles of footwork, practice using variations.”
I looked up at Rubel. His expression was calm, but his noticeably red earlobes and neck, along with his racing heartbeat, made it clear how embarrassed he was.
It was clearly because of the Limitless Steps.
He was cute and amusing. There was no reason to be ashamed just because he hadn’t learned it directly from me.
From the moment he etched his footprints onto the martial arts training ground, a place any swordsman could use, Rubel had earned the right to practice the Limitless Steps.
Yet, his awkwardness was like that of a boy his age, and it was endearing.
“Still, the fact that your speed was consistently fast whether you held the sword short or long showed you practiced diligently, which was good. Both of you did well. Today’s spar ends here. For the remaining time today…”
Whoosh, the energy that had bound my whole body disappeared. Only then did I release the hand that had touched his body and return my sword to my waist. He offered his hand first for a handshake, and I readily clasped it.
“…Was it okay?”
“Yes.”
The boy, in a voice very much like him, whispered very softly.
After a moment’s pause, I assessed the child’s joy and replied kindly that he had enjoyed himself and it was a good spar. When he smiled brightly, his neat face lit up.
I felt good all day, having had a proper, strenuous spar after a long time.
For the World History class, I listened while referring to the notes Rubel had given me last time. The parts that absolutely needed to be memorized were marked in blue, which was useful for organizing my thoughts.
Both the throwing knife technique and the notes; I had received so much that the desire to help that young one in ways other than seeing him ascend to the throne spontaneously arose.
However, I couldn’t quite figure out what to give him that he would like.
After all, Rubel already possessed more than enough, overflowing with what was in his hands.
He had the Emperor of this vast Empire as his father, had already mastered swordsmanship and sword arts excellently, and had a master more capable than himself.
As I gazed down at the boy’s neat handwriting, lost in thought, someone tapped my shoulder from the side.
“Page 65.”
Professor Briana Casablanca was looking at Ikyun. I hadn’t realized she had told me to read and had drifted off into my own thoughts. Realizing this, I immediately opened my textbook and read the relevant section.
“The King Felix dynasty has long pursued a policy of favoring religion as a means to govern the kingdom, resulting in strong divine authority. Among these, the central shrine of Felix possesses a divine object that exists solely as a measure to deify the king. It is said that this divine object can distinguish between the king’s blood relatives and non-relatives. Its appearance and method of use are not widely known, but…”
After I successfully read one paragraph, the class resumed.
Shayden, who knew my nature of not being very interested in theoretical classes, didn’t seem to find it strange, but my mind remained unsettled with various thoughts even until the Imperial Genealogy class.
❖ ❖ ❖
During this week’s hunting and camping session, we decided to make pills using various ingredients gathered last time.
Professor Cedric checked each group’s medicinal ingredient boxes and awarded points.
He meticulously checked whether the prescribed types of medicinal ingredients were selected, whether they were of good quality, and their storage condition.
Professor Cedric explained why good quality ingredients were good and why bad quality ones were bad, allowing all students to visually learn about the ingredients.
He even replaced some very poor-quality ingredients with good ones.
He also had the group leaders present the circumstances surrounding the acquisition of the ingredients.
Thanks to this, all students learned what could happen in greenhouse areas they hadn’t visited and how to resolve such situations.
After the necessary theoretical study, we pushed our desks together to create a large workbench.
Suddenly, I wondered if there was a reason why only edible ingredients were used, not ointments or salves, so I raised my hand and asked. Professor Cedric, with his usual hearty and loud voice, replied.
“Well, you can’t create a wound right here and apply it, can you? You can’t just know things with your head. You have to make it yourself, taste it, and experience its effects. If a medicine that should taste bitter tastes sweet, what do you think Young Master Ernhardt would do?”
“…I would try to find out what went wrong.”
“Right. But the order and method of making the medicine were not wrong. Then?”
“I check the ingredients.”
“If you don’t know what this medicine tastes like, what can you do?”
Ah. I understood without further explanation.
Sensing that I had realized it, Professor Cedric nodded, smiled, and distributed handouts to the students listing the types of pills that could be made with the ingredients gathered from each greenhouse.
“That’s why! Today, we will make a lot of medicine so that everyone, not just their own group members, can taste a little. Let’s use up all the ingredients brought from the greenhouse today. Now, shall we begin?”
This time, each group was given a small reagent bottle containing Mana Stone powder, about the size of a thumb.
I watched Marianne Philodendore quickly push her mana into the Mana Stone powder. It was amusing and interesting to see her trying not to make the same mistake as before, so I chuckled softly.
My task was to peel the hard skin off the firm cactus fruit, the Hand of Makrir.
Taking out a dagger I had used before, I thinly sliced its peel. Carefully peeling the green skin until the soft flesh was exposed, I placed it in a mortar.
Jenny measured the appropriate amount of Mana Stone powder and added it to the mortar, while Ivan Holmes took charge of pounding it.
Meanwhile, Damian Christopher and Jenny recorded the changes in the mixture with drawings and text.
For the medicine using Logi’s petals and Moras mint, I had almost nothing to do, so I just watched. I was worried about damaging the soft ingredients by mistake and causing a loss.
As these were all medicinal ingredients used for sudden injuries or illnesses encountered outdoors, the making process was much simpler than the Elixir of Vitality we had made before.
The resulting doughs were then rolled into pills by the dexterous children.
After setting aside enough for other groups to taste, I placed our group’s share of pills on three small plates, feeling proud and amazed.
As one’s internal energy cultivation deepens, the martial artist’s body becomes stronger.
I had trained in martial arts and practiced Circulating Qi from a very young age, both in the Central Plains and in Sierren. Perhaps because of this, I had never caught a cold in my life and had never encountered spiritual medicine due to lack of connection.
Therefore, these kinds of medicinal ingredients were always unfamiliar and wondrous to me.
I took a piece of the well-made, colorful pills, which had been divided into five. I took small portions and placed them on my tongue. I tried to remember their bitter, sweet, and sour tastes as I slowly sucked and swallowed them.
By the end of the class, my mouth still held the slightly bitter taste from tasting multiple pills at once. A member of my group informed me that my tongue had turned yellow.
However, it was a necessary study, so I didn’t feel the slightest bit of dislike.