Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

The boy stared at me silently with a pale face.

His neatly combed hair, loosely tied, fell long down his back, and his sideburns, which hung down past his ears, dropped straight across his collarbone, resembling those of someone from the central plains.

However, Edwin’s lavender-colored hair and amber eyes stood out. The color was so striking, and with the fading sunlight from just after class, it took on a mysterious glow.

“Do you think I want to fight you?”

“Don’t you?”

I couldn’t bring myself to deny it. Since I had no intention of provoking him, I just stood with a firm posture, looking at him.

The distance between Edwin and me was exactly eight paces. He had entered my range. If I planted my foot and performed a lightning-fast sword strike, his neck would be severed in an instant.

I also wondered if I had entered his range.

Perhaps this wasn’t the reaction he had expected from me.

On the way here, his steps didn’t lead with his toes or heels, but instead, he pressed his feet into the ground, stepping down hard, as if trying to suppress a rising surge of emotion. It was clear he was trying to control his frustration.

But I wasn’t confident in fighting with words.

“I’m curious too, senior.”

I looked up at the boy, who remained silent. The age gap between us was noticeable, as even a year or two made a significant difference when you’re young. I had to look up to meet his golden eyes. Even when he lowered his head, I could clearly see his face and expression.

He pushed his bangs back with his hand, and only then did he speak.

“What?”

“How do you fight?”

It seemed like I could almost grasp the indecision on his face with my hands.

He had never experienced a real, fair duel.

From the moment he was born, his brother had always been an unseen enemy, and even though he mocked and taunted, he had never had a real fight with anyone. Using money to boast the family’s power, how could that be called a fight?

The boy stayed quiet, so I just asked what I was curious about.

It felt like he would answer easily.

“So, what circle are you?”

“5th circle.”

“With a 5th circle, how would that compare in swordsmanship?”

“Top-level Sword Expert.”

“What’s the highest circle?”

“Are you taking a class from me now?”

He had been answering easily, but when his eyes suddenly turned sharp, I couldn’t help but laugh. No, I shook my head while answering, and Edwin closed his mouth again. He seemed to be thinking about something, so I just stood there, letting him be, while looking around.

The trees around the Swordsmanship Department were all tall and large, while the trees in the Magic Department were shorter. Even the perennials were more common than those in the Swordsmanship Department.

I noticed a few scorched marks here and there, as if someone had been playing with fire.

I imagined the people who had set up a bonfire for a game. I couldn’t quite picture it.

After some thought, Edwin looked me in the eyes again. Since a boy who hadn’t trained in martial arts wasn’t able to hide his gaze from me, I immediately met his eyes. He spoke in a firm voice.

“I’ll have to teach you some humility through experience. Fine, let’s do it. Fight.”

“Yes.”

“…Not a sparring match, but a fight, you understand? I’ll burn every hair on your body from head to toe.”

“When is it?”

“…I’ll let you know after the professor gives permission, so stop asking. Don’t irritate me.”

It seemed like he was embarrassed for asking something that couldn’t be answered immediately. He muttered under his breath. But from the moment we were alone, I was ready for an attack at any moment, so I heightened my senses, and I could hear his breathing clearly, loud and fierce.

It didn’t seem like he was going to attack immediately, so I nodded, bid him farewell, and left. I could see how much he disliked me, and I felt like if I stayed any longer, I might just pass out from the tension.

Despite my curiosity, a part of me felt satisfied at the prospect of a good sparring match ahead.

Until then, I had only heard rumors, but Edwin’s words and actions resembled those of a certain nobleman from the central plains. Just like that man, Edwin would sulk, mutter under his breath, and get annoyed, but at the same time, he was the type to unwind completely in a sparring match.

Young boys, especially those in their teens, are bound to grow up through fighting.

After dinner, Marianne quietly came to me, and we had a brief conversation.

Edwin had asked if everything was okay and expressed his concern for me, but I reassured him that there were no problems and that the situation had been resolved through conversation, so there was no need to worry. Hearing this, Marianne became flustered and walked back and forth, eventually asking me a strange question.

“Did the beauty trap really work?”

“A beauty trap? What nonsense is that?”

“No, I mean today, you suddenly came in without your usual calm, your hair damp and your face all shiny, like you had been blessed or something, breathing heavily, and your clothes sticking to you…”

“What are you talking about? That didn’t happen.”

“No, really, you were like… huffing and puffing, then suddenly you pushed your hair back!”

“I did that because my hair was wet and sticking to my eyes. I’m a man, after all. How can the beauty trap be a thing? I wiped my face because I was sweating. Stop talking nonsense.”

According to her, my behavior during class today had seemed so seductive that I was compared to a demon who would suck out a person’s liver, and I had to apologize in an awkward manner.

Though we didn’t often have the chance to talk alone, I knew Marianne was especially talkative among my friends. Even when she said ridiculous things, I just sighed and let it slide.

I indulged her as she went on and on about how I had managed to run from the eastern third training ground to the classroom, how many minutes it had taken, and whether I was even human. I listened while we walked through the garden, which was starting to bloom.

Walking beside a talkative and cheerful person like Marianne made the moment feel less lonely, and I was glad for it.

* * *

During advanced swordsmanship class, when I met Ruber and asked him what he wanted when he gave me his notes, he earnestly begged me not to misunderstand, assuring me that he didn’t want anything in return.

Once again, it became clear that not everything Shayden said was right.

Ruber explained that he had carefully reorganized the notes with the hope that they would be helpful to me, and I responded that they were indeed very useful. Once I understood that he hadn’t tried to assert his status as a prince, I felt relieved and pleased.

Although I already had completed notes, studying for exams was a different matter. During the general history of the world class, I made an effort to focus and not get distracted.

Still, it was inevitable that my mind would wander, and I found myself captivated by the delicate illustrations in the textbook.

Sieron’s approach to Chinese and Western painting was completely different.

Though I knew nothing about art, I remembered that the prized paintings from the central plains, often displayed on walls, had bold, strong brush strokes, with straight lines dominating the composition. The landscapes depicted were often vast, as if looking down from high mountains or up from deep valleys, with subtle gradations of light and shadow.

In contrast, the illustrations in this place’s picture books featured cute animals and flowers drawn with thick lines, while comics told stories with images of characters that looked like dolls, with round faces and limbs, bouncing around with small gestures and showing playful expressions.

There were also surprisingly delicate and graceful sketches that captured real people as if they had been directly transferred from life to the canvas.

Among all the paintings, the most fascinating and awe-inspiring were the last ones—those that looked exactly like real people.

I, too, had drawn portraits a few times when I was younger. It took a month for the artists to capture a person on a canvas as large as their own height.

We would sit or stand in the same pose, without moving, passing the boring hours with idle chat. It was interesting to watch as the painting was completed, bit by bit, with a section being finished each day.

Although I hadn’t had the opportunity to meet artists in the central plains to make direct comparisons, I remember being amazed when I learned that they mixed their paints with oil each day to prepare them. It seemed like such a difficult and laborious profession.

I had intended to have another portrait painted this year, but with so much work, I wasn’t sure when I’d have time for it.

Out of curiosity, I asked Shayden how many portraits Count Rose had painted. He said there were too many to count, but that one was done every year.

In the summer, when the weather is hot, it’s not suitable for painting, and when you wear fancy clothes, they become heavy and hot. So, portraits are mostly painted in the winter, which is exactly the same as Ernhardt’s method. I thought to myself that I should visit my family’s estate in winter.

During the Empire’s genealogy class, Professor Calyps Agrigent, who was already thin, stumbled into the classroom looking even more frail than usual. His gaze, which usually looked down on others, was devoid of energy.

It seemed like he was trying to hide his weakness by exerting force, but some of the swordsmanship students, myself included, who had good internal energy, could tell and looked at him with concern.

Professor Agrigent proceeded with the lesson in his usual manner, though his voice was a little more cracked than usual.

Seeing him made me realize that handling such information requires this level of pride and sense of duty, and I couldn’t help but feel admiration.

“As everyone knows, the Duke families of the Sieron Empire are five in total. The Duke of the Forest, Withro; the Duke of the Sword, Kiadris; the Duke of the River, Yeldithus; the Duke of the Plains, Valentia; and the Duke of Iron, Grimsvein. These five noble families conceived the reforms that laid the foundations of the current Sieron Empire 327 years ago, after 42 years of hardship.”

Just a month ago, these names were unfamiliar to me, but now they felt familiar. For some reason, my right index finger tingled.

“Out of these five dukes, four commute to the imperial palace and hold the office of prime minister. However, Duke Carlos Withro submitted his retirement request just last month. Currently, the heir who can inherit the Withro name is…”

It seemed that the students were more focused on the topic of the noble families than on collecting and studying the information about the lower-ranking counts. Perhaps it was because they were more familiar with the subject or because it was easier to discuss, but their attention was high.

I had known there were five dukes in Sieron, but I had never really paid attention to their names before. As I casually jotted the names down in my notebook, I suddenly felt an odd sense of discomfort.