By Zephyria 
Heading towards the meeting place, chatting with Shayden.
Far ahead, Benjamin stood awkwardly, unable to enter the stable.
This was a meeting arranged to stop by every Monday through Thursday, before dinner, to take care of the hay or help with chores.
This gathering was arranged with the intention of making Benjamin and the horses friendly, as advised by Professor Biban Otif during the last ‘Praise of Excellent Horses’ class, by taking care of the horses’ feed.
Everyone firmly believed Professor Biban Otif’s words that simply showing up frequently would be helpful, even if one didn’t take on the full responsibility of feeding them.
In truth, whatever the reason, Benjamin’s appearance, standing before the stable unable to step inside because he was afraid the horses would fear him, was amusing.
“Why are you out here? Not going inside?”
“Please don’t tease me.”
It was impossible to hold back laughter, especially since the words were spoken sincerely, not as a tease.
The scene inside the stable was the same as I had seen last week.
The horses were friendly towards me and indifferent to Shayden, but whenever Benjamin was near, they would startle or scrape the ground with their hind hooves.
While it was fascinating how the horses avoided Benjamin’s gaze, I also felt concerned, so I stroked his neck to comfort him.
Benjamin watched me with a look of utter grievance on his usually placid face, and seeing that face made me realize he was still young.
I hadn’t truly grasped his age due to his large build and quiet expression, which made him seem even more pitiable.
“It’s truly strange. Why do they follow Mika so well?”
“I don’t know, really.”
“…They say animals naturally like beautiful people, don’t they?”
“Ah.”
“…Hmm.”
The children nodded with an overly serious demeanor, their gazes meeting.
I waved my hand dismissively, telling them not to talk nonsense, and stopped them from chattering, agreeing that we should first find an empty feeding trough and fill it with hay.
As they were all promising talents of the Swordsmanship Department, they were strong enough that moving hay was effortless.
The only minor annoyance was pushing away the horses that stretched their necks towards the hay I was still moving.
Benjamin watched me enviously, then, with shoulders more slumped than usual, he diligently did his own work.
Eating too many carrots in a day isn’t good, so the only thing we could give the horses was hay.
At first, some of the horses that had been terrified just by Benjamin’s proximity began to cautiously glance at him and nibble on the hay.
After filling the feeding troughs, we three wandered aimlessly around the stable, having nothing else to do.
“Let’s sit down for a bit.”
Shayden flopped down onto a pile of leftover hay from filling the troughs and offered a seat.
Benjamin sat down without a word, so I also sat cross-legged on the floor.
Shayden’s words, that it was good to be visible within the horses’ sight to get them accustomed to our faces, and that since it was our first day in the stable together, it was best to stay at a distance from the horses, proved to be quite right.
Sitting facing each other, close companions, there was nothing to do but talk.
Since we couldn’t demonstrate swordsmanship for fear of intimidating the horses, the conversation naturally shifted to topics about the children.
Instead of Benjamin and me, who were not good with words, Shayden began talking about people he had met during the summer break.
Various names passed by. Some were names I recognized from class, and others were classmates whose faces I could picture thanks to Shayden’s descriptions.
I didn’t know students from other grades well, except for those I met in advanced swordsmanship classes, so everything I heard was fascinating.
Shayden knew details that Marianne had stubbornly refused to reveal during the last camping trip.
“Did you happen to hear the name of the class that Senior Tenor and Marianne are taking together?”
“No, she wouldn’t say, claiming it was embarrassing.”
“‘The Flow and History of Capital!’ No, even as an elective, isn’t that a bit peculiar for finding romance? Besides, Marianne isn’t particularly interested in history classes. She might like money, but she doesn’t really know how to handle it herself. I was surprised it was so heavily focused on Senior Tenor.”
“Hmm…”
“Isn’t it natural to want to know everything about someone you like? It’s an elective, so it probably doesn’t require highly specialized knowledge.”
Hearing Benjamin’s words, I nodded, thinking it might be so. Shayden then rambled on with a few more reasons before sighing and drawing a peculiar conclusion.
“Anyway, I don’t know if Marianne and Senior Tenor are a good match. Marianne really likes him, but… Senior Tenor’s lukewarm reaction bothers me. Marianne is a cheerful and good friend, so I wish she’d have a relationship where she’s loved a lot.”
“Young Master Shayden, perhaps…”
“No! It’s like a sister, like a sister! What are you thinking? Absolutely not!”
Shayden jumped up at Benjamin’s question.
I also nodded in agreement with Shayden’s words, as I found Marianne’s cheerful and lively actions pleasant and felt close to her. I wished for the young lady to be happy, showered with love.
I had already heard that Marianne, who liked Glotin Tenor, and Senior Oliver Combine, who took the throwing knife technique class with me, were close.
During the throwing knife technique class, I had subtly resolved to probe Oliver to find out what kind of person Glotin was.
After talking about Marianne and Glotin Tenor for a long time, as it was getting late, we decided to have dinner together and left the stable after locking it securely.
When Shayden playfully asked if Benjamin seemed a little closer to the horses, Benjamin showed a dejected expression, so I patted his back, comforting him that he would have plenty of time to learn how to get close to the horses throughout the semester.
❖ ❖ ❖
It was the advanced swordsmanship class. Now, all the children had learned to extend their sword paths without interfering with their classmates’ paths in front, behind, left, or right.
Even though the sound of clashing swords was heard occasionally, the frequency was definitely lower than at first.
It was astonishing that such a thing was possible with only a few days of training, but I knew it was all thanks to the clear distinction of directions and the pre-learned and coordinated sequences.
After spending the first hour of class like that, Maelo Sanson then stood in the center of a large circle.
The circle was perfectly round, and the distance between Maelo and the circle was a consistent five paces.
“From now on, you will form groups of three and spar with me simultaneously. You will attack while standing at a set distance, with me in the center. Stepping on this circle is allowed, but retreating completely from the circle is not. Your starting positions will be at the twelve, eight, and four o’clock directions.”
The three Maelo Sanson called out took their designated positions. Maelo Sanson individually assigned them specific sword styles that would be good to use, and the children followed suit.
Maelo parried or deflected the swords the children extended, offering advice, yet there were moments when the children’s swords tangled, causing them to falter.
However, three people was a small number. The children quickly realized that by focusing only on their assigned direction, their allies’ swords wouldn’t get tangled, and they devised a strategy. Maelo then pushed one child’s sword, causing the two to collide. The move was so ingenious that it elicited admiration.
“Focus on your opponent’s movements. If I push one, clockwise, you should also know how to switch places. You must move organically. From now on, you are allowed to leave your designated spots. Let’s continue, as long as you don’t go outside the circle.”
This was an encounter with a martial artist of Hwagyeong. Every place a sword was extended, there was a sword blocking the path.
Even just not being knocked out of the designated area, let alone fighting back, was difficult with a moderate amount of force.
As the children began to pant, Maelo Sanson stopped them and immediately called out the next students.
By the time the third team was called, I realized Professor Sanson was simply calling the children nearby in order.
After all, they would be mixed up again as time went on, so there was no need to pair them up in suitable combinations.
Rubel, realizing this, approached and asked to be paired with me, leaving Lucilla and Matt.
Seeing the child so eager to be with me, I felt a pang of sympathy, thinking that Matt Nico was Lucilla’s friend, but not Rubel’s.
Three people at a time for thirty minutes, so nine teams rotated.
I, with Benjamin and Rubel by my side, challenged Maelo Sanson as the fifth in line.
I was filled with admiration for him, who, despite facing many children and talking non-stop, did not falter in his breathing.
Maelo Sanson stated that in the next class, after similar training, they would practice the Combined Formation by increasing the numbers to five, then ten, and then he would teach them how to freely form their own Combined Formations.
I thought of the students who would undergo training in the same way every semester.
If the swordsmanship professors before Maelo Sanson had taught in the same manner, Sierren’s martial artists, as long as they were from the same academy, could immediately form a Combined Formation to face enemies.
Even if not, I knew that those who had trained under Sanson would be able to adapt to the gaps in each other’s swords without needing time to synchronize.
In the Central Plains, when facing powerful enemies that absolutely had to be eliminated, a tactic of overwhelming numbers was often used.
No matter how strong a martial artist, they were still human and needed to sleep and eat to survive. Even if all the preceding attackers were killed, one would eventually die from the hundredth or thousandth sword strike.
If everyone gathered used the same sword style, it would be easy to counter, so it was common for most to rush towards their target like moths to a flame, without even knowing each other’s existence.
Although a strategist would determine where to send a group of people, they could not order the Namgung Family and Moyong Family to deploy a Combined Formation.
It was not a strategist’s job to command the impossible.
The War of Righteousness and Evil also proceeded in such a manner. It aimed to gather a large number of Orthodox Sect members and charge blindly towards the Heavenly Demon, killing all the cumbersome demonic beings.
I wondered what would have happened if I had known then that they could support each other’s backs while using different sword styles, and felt a sense of regret.
I quickly shook off such futile thoughts. It was already a cause for gratitude that something enlightened and practiced by an ancient sage could be learned in such a simple way.
Martial artists who had reached a certain realm often overcame obstacles through small epiphanies rather than by swinging their swords in training.
I kept my senses sharp, not wanting to miss any fragments of realization, and watched Maelo Sanson spar with the children. Every single movement was vividly etched into my vision.