Chapter 6: May We Someday Find Sword Schools That Suit Us

Licia immediately raised her voice.

“Why? Ren is so strong!”

Her sudden change startled the commander. Until a moment ago, she had listened to his instruction with perfect composure.

“As you say, my lady, he is strong. I recognize that, and so do my subordinates. The problem is not his strength. It is his nature.”

The commander said Ren’s deficiency could be seen throughout the way he moved. Licia refused to accept the conclusion so easily.

“His injuries have only recently healed. Could they be affecting him?”

She was remembering the wounds Ren had suffered against Yelquq.

The commander shook his head.

“Do you remember that I asked him to move freely?”

Licia nodded, still visibly agitated.

“I initially thought the habits I saw might have been acquired through his father’s instruction. That is why I asked him to abandon imitation and fight as he normally would. What appeared afterward was not a learned habit.”

He looked toward Ren.

“His excessively aggressive and severe manner of fighting is his natural disposition. That temperament is fundamentally incompatible with the Sacred Sword Style. If he attempted to force himself into its forms, the conflict would eventually hinder him.”

Minor habits could be corrected through training. Ren’s case was different. Suppressing his instincts would make the sword harder for him to use, and intensive training might only burden him with unnatural habits.

“That is what I meant when I said he lacks the required aptitude,” the commander continued. “Some adventurers and bandits also use reckless, ferocious swords, but most acquired those methods because their lives demanded it. Ren’s severity is innate. It is as much a part of him as the face with which he was born.”

Correcting something so fundamental might be impossible.

“Even if he studied the Sacred Sword Style, there would be no guarantee that he could acquire its Arts.”

Learning the school would teach Ren its weaknesses, which might help him against a practitioner. Yet the commander did not believe that limited benefit justified the years the training would consume.

(Then I should begin with another style.)

Ren accepted the result without despair.

“I understand. In that case, would you be willing to instruct me in general sword fundamentals?”

“Gladly. The opportunity to guide a promising boy like you is welcome.”

Ren had already abandoned any intention of pressing the issue. His quick change of direction made him appear unusually mature.

Licia, however, spoke for the confused feelings of Weiss, the Clausel knights, and the servants.

“Ren! Why are you so calm?”

“What else can I do? If the style does not suit me, that cannot be helped. Since the commander is here, I would still like to learn whatever fundamentals I can.”

The subsequent instruction was adjusted so that Ren could participate without interfering with Licia’s lesson. He gained more from the visit than expected. Licia also regained her composure and continued with proper attention—or appeared to.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The lesson ended after sunset. Not long after bathing, Licia visited Ren’s guest room and sat on the edge of his bed, idly swinging her feet.

She behaved as though nothing troubled her. After sharing a desperate escape with her, Ren could see through the performance.

“Was it really all right to waste part of such a valuable lesson?”

“What do you mean?”

“You became rather unhappy halfway through. Even Weiss did not seem to notice.”

Licia’s face showed a moment of surprise before she restored her usual confident expression.

“How could you tell?”

“You play with your hair whenever you are in a bad mood.”

“Do I? Truly?”

“No. I made that up. Your reaction proved the rest.”

Licia looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“…Meanie.”

Her accusation was too charming to sound threatening. Ren shrugged with a wry smile.

“It made no sense,” she protested. “What the commander said sounded as though you have no talent.”

“It did not merely sound that way. He said I have no talent for that particular style.”

“Then why are you—”

“So calm? Because there is nothing else to do. My instincts and the Sacred Sword Style are incompatible.”

Ren considered the commander’s honesty helpful. He would not waste years attempting to obtain Arts he might never learn.

“But…”

“I am fine. I was disappointed, but the Sacred Sword Style is not the only path. There are other schools, and I already possess my magic swords.”

He had not fought monsters recently because he remained under House Clausel’s protection. He hoped that would change soon. Weiss’s promised instruction in Imperial Swordsmanship was also appealing.

“Therefore, my lady—”

Ren straightened and met her eyes.

“What is that serious expression?”

“Please do not lose focus because of me the next time you receive instruction. That would only harm your own progress.”

“Mmm…”

She looked intensely dissatisfied.

Ren knew she had remained courteous to the Imperial Knights and had listened earnestly. She had merely been unable to dismiss what the commander had said about him, which had weakened her concentration slightly.

“Of course I had feelings about hearing that the person who saved my life lacked talent,” Licia admitted.

“That is not a proper reason to neglect your lesson.”

“I know. I understand that it cannot be helped. But after the lesson, the commander also pointed something out about my sword.”

“When I was not present?”

“Yes. He said there was something concerning about my technique, though it was not as severe as your case.”

Ren was puzzled. In the game, Licia had possessed enough talent to master the Sacred Sword Style and become a Sword Saint.

“He said my sword contains habits very similar to yours.”

“Habits?”

“I studied you because I wanted to defeat you. I thought about your footwork, your positioning, and the way you swing. I have trained while remembering your movements again and again.”

Ren began to understand.

“So your technique absorbed parts of mine.”

“Apparently. The commander says those habits can be corrected.”

That should have reassured her, but Licia looked troubled.

“I do not want to erase them. It feels as though I am being told that you—and the goal I chose—were mistakes.”

“If you intend to learn the Sacred Sword Style, correcting them would be the proper choice.”

“I know. That is why I am no longer sure I should learn it.”

“Please do not make that decision because of me.”

“You said yourself that other styles exist. There is no need to cling to this one. Another school may suit me better.”

Her reasoning was valid. The Sacred Sword Style was not the only powerful style in the world. Yet Ren knew how formidable Licia became after mastering it in the games, and part of him still wanted her to follow that path.

Licia’s resolve did not waver.

“What would you do if someone told you to discard everything your father taught you because his sword was unnecessary?”

“I…”

Ren could not honestly say he would accept such an order. Even if changing was necessary for growth, abandoning Roy’s instruction would feel as though his earlier effort and his bond with his father were being dismissed.

Licia smiled as though she had heard the answer he did not speak.

“I feel the same way.”

“Our circumstances are different. I am the son of a rural knight. You are a saint and the daughter of a baron.”

“No duty requires me to learn a particular style. Father told me to study freely and find the path I consider ideal. I want my late mother to see the person I become at the end of it.”

Ren had no argument capable of overturning her wishes. Lessard’s policy caused no problem, and Ren had no right to dictate the life of his liege’s daughter.

He also realized that he had been treating game knowledge as though it carried greater authority than Licia’s own judgment.

“You are not the only reason I am hesitating,” she continued. “Correcting ingrained habits while learning the style would take time. Beginning with another school may allow me to grow faster.”

That too was reasonable.

Ren almost insisted again because he knew the strength of the game-version Licia. Then the error struck him.

(Licia is Licia. She is not a character who must obey the game’s route.)

He silently apologized for ignoring the person sitting before him.

“Then I will help you look for a style that suits you.”

Licia smiled.

“If you are going to say that, say a style that suits us.”

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