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

The academy schedule after safely completing midterms was the same as before.

Going out to the training grounds in the early morning before the dew had dried to warm up, preparing for the day with washing and energy exercises, having breakfast with my peers, and attending the morning swordsmanship class—all of this was unchanged from the routine before the exams.

After my sparring match with Edwin Kiadris, a brief trend had started within the swordsmanship department of memorizing magical formulas, but that fad was quickly brushed aside during the exam period, dismissed as a fun distraction. It turned out that the shapes and pronunciations of magical formulas were too peculiar to be easily memorized as a pastime.

Thus, in recent introductory swordsmanship classes, we focused on reinforcing the basics that had been neglected while practicing various sword forms.

Some of my peers had messed up their stances while trying to mimic my sword techniques, so I also went back to foundational forms. Standing in neat rows on the training grounds, we swung our swords in unison, horizontal slashes, downward strikes, thrusts—the uniformity was impressive. It was a different kind of enjoyment from solo training.

Maelo Sanson had me stand at the front as a training assistant, allowing me to observe my peers’ form directly, which was beneficial.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the introductory magical theory class was noticeably different before and after my sparring match.

Simply arriving in the classroom a bit early for class elicited small greetings here and there.

Even Marianne Philodendorf, who would have previously hesitated to meet my gaze or wave, greeted me with a bright smile.

“Hello, Mikael!”

“Yes. Did you have a good weekend? I heard you spent time with some of the students from the outdoor class.”

“Oh, you must listen! I met this friend who’s Ivan’s younger twin brother…”

Her lively, chattering voice was full of excitement.

For about ten minutes before Professor Angela Sting entered, Marianne eagerly shared stories of what she and her classmates did over the weekend, the fun they had, and the things they experienced.

Shayden, who had joined me for breakfast earlier, had been off with his own friends, so he hadn’t known about these events.

As I listened, it occurred to me that there was perhaps no link between Shayden and the students from the outdoor class when I wasn’t around, and I wondered if he felt awkward without me to bridge the gap.

I briefly worried whether the boy might feel uncomfortable, but Marianne’s carefree expression suggested it didn’t bother her at all.

Professor Angela Sting calmly explained methods for defending against magical formulas in today’s class.

Just as I had done during the duel, she described ways to break the connection between formulas with aura or disrupt specific formulas that were already in place. She outlined three defensive methods for breaking spells.

I admired Professor Sting’s astuteness in identifying three different defensive methods within that short period.

Though the lecture was primarily geared toward mages, it was also valuable for me.

Elite warriors—those at the advanced to top levels of Sword Expert, capable of using aura—could see the flow of mana just as they could see aura.

Knowing what move my opponent might make allowed me to determine the best counter-move, much like in a game of Go or chess.

Angela Sting was teaching the students how I countered Edwin’s magic, while I gained insight into how other mages might respond to my moves, helping me devise my next strategies.

It was far more interesting and enjoyable than practicing circles I couldn’t use, and I was delighted throughout the lesson.

On my way out after class, I made brief eye contact with Edwin Kiadris and gave him a simple nod.

He still seemed a bit sulky, but his spirit had softened somewhat. He appeared like a child stubbornly holding a grudge, so I paid him no mind.

* * *

After getting through the exams like an outbreak of measles, I finally had a chance to examine the collection of daggers I’d bought earlier.

I invited Benjamin to my room’s parlor to show off my purchases, and Shayden quickly joined us, making it a gathering of three once again.

The table was filled with daggers of varying sizes, from just over a hand’s width to about two hands long. The shapes and curves of the blades and handles sparkled under the light, and the sight was quite pleasing.

Benjamin and Shayden, both swordsmen, examined the daggers with more interest and ease than even the mainlanders, weighing and handling them as if it were second nature.

When I asked about it, Benjamin mentioned that knights in Sierron generally didn’t have any particular aversion to daggers.

“Actually…daggers are sometimes even seen as tokens of affection.”

“Tokens? Like a gift to a lover?”

“Yes, exactly. Usually, a long sword is worn at the waist, but a dagger is often kept in a holster on the chest or just slipped into an inner pocket of a jacket. Since it’s closer to the heart, there’s a certain romantic notion attached to it.”

I found it fascinating how much significance people here in Sierron seemed to place on the area near the heart. Just as they draw mana to the middle dantian to form circles, they also wish to keep certain items close to their heart.

At his words, I tried slipping a dagger into the inner pocket of my academy jacket, but it bulged awkwardly in the already tight jacket.

Since I rarely wore jackets anyway, I figured I’d need to use a dagger strap, or holster, instead.

I missed the flowing robes of Namgoong, where it was common to carry hidden blades in wide sleeves. It seemed much more practical to draw a blade from a wrist or sleeve than from the chest.

“Because it’s small, it’s also kind of cute. Some people carry daggers in leather sheaths decorated with embroidery.”

“Even non-knights usually carry one for a journey.”

“Actually, it’s a bit unusual that you didn’t have a single dagger until now.”

“True. What do you do if you suddenly feel like eating fruit without a dagger around?”

“Fruit?”

“Well, if you’re just out and about and feel like eating an apple or an orange, you can buy one and slice it on the spot… Ah, though, come to think of it, you didn’t go out much.”

With Sierron’s good public safety, I hadn’t expected kids to carry daggers with them. I laughed at the unexpected use for one.

After considering which dagger to carry, I selected one with a bluish tint on the blade.

“I guess I’ll carry this one. And I’ll practice throwing with the others.”

“I heard it’s best to practice throwing with just one dagger at first. That way, you improve faster. Once you’re used to one, then you can add variety by throwing curved or longer ones.”

“Hmm… then would it be best to start with these two?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to get advice from a professor?”

Benjamin’s mention of the introductory knife-throwing class he’d mentioned earlier came to mind.

I opened my academy notebook to the last page and, indeed, there was a professor specializing in knife-throwing.

Since I didn’t know the professor’s class schedule, I decided to ask Maelo Sanson later if I could borrow a space to practice knife-throwing.

The next morning, after advanced swordsmanship class, I asked Maelo Sanson about the professor who taught knife-throwing.

Apparently, Professor Wilton Roberts, who taught knife techniques, was something of an elusive character, disappearing outside of required classes.

As I was considering this, a boy hovering nearby spoke up unexpectedly.

It was Ruben again.

“I might not be able to teach you as well as a professor, but would you like some help? I think I could at least get you a key to the knife-throwing practice room…”

“You, upperclassman?”

“Yes. I’m taking a knife-throwing class this semester, and I’m doing pretty well in it. Would you like my help?”

“That might actually work better. Opening a room used by another professor is a bit beyond my authority. However, if you accompany a student who has permission to attend that class, it shouldn’t be a problem. How far are the targets in the knife-throwing room? Are there safety nets?”

“There are sections for 5 meters, 10 meters, and 20 meters. There are safety nets and safety lines too.”

“What day is the class held?”

“The class is on Wednesday afternoons, so… I could probably get permission by tomorrow. What do you say? Want to work out a time with me, junior?”

Seeing the usually timid Prince Ruben’s dark eyes light up, I could tell he was quite confident in his knife-throwing skills. I found it amusing and endearing to think of how eager he must be to show off, so I nodded with a smile.

“Let’s do that. I’m free on Friday afternoons—how about you, senior?”

“Hmm, that works for me too. How about we have lunch together on Friday?”

“Oh, I’d rather not.”

“…Oh. Right. Sorry, I guess I was thinking too much of myself.”

“Yes, I usually eat with friends who might feel uncomfortable.”

“Hmm… really? Would it be very awkward?”

I considered it for a moment.

Benjamin probably wouldn’t mind too much, but Shayden would most likely get nervous, holding his spoon with his pinky out, shaking too much to even get a single spoonful of soup properly.

Deciding it wasn’t a good idea, I shook my head, and Ruben, visibly disappointed, composed himself with a sigh and a dry chuckle.

Seeing this, I realized that Ruben didn’t seem to be one to assert his authority. I couldn’t quite understand why Shayden found him so intimidating.

But then, remembering Marianne, who was so frightened of Edwin, made me realize that this land’s social hierarchy had its own mix of flexibility and rigidity, creating a kind of social “food chain.”

I figured time would reveal more about this. For now, I’d let things be unless a reason to intervene arose. After all, there was no rule that my friends had to get along with each other, so I left it at that.

“As a substitute, would you like to have dinner together instead?”

“Oh, that would be fine?”

“Yes. Young Master Claudian is a bit more open and less reserved around new people.”

Benjamin Claudian, who had been quietly observing beside us, gave a polite bow.

Ruben, as always, gave a faint, slightly downcast smile and nodded.

“Alright, let’s do that,” he said with a gentle response, lifting my spirits a bit.

Every time I found myself in need, there seemed to be a helping hand extended. It was a convenience I hadn’t experienced back in Zhongyuan.

Remembering how he lent me his history notes earlier, I thought to myself how attentive and considerate he was in so many small ways. This thought made me look at him anew, finding his bashful smile endearing.

I silently resolved to make sure to look out for him in the future.

“Thank you, senior.”

“Alright. Then… with Young Master Claudian joining us, let’s have dinner together on Friday… near the First Training Ground, since the knife practice room is nearby.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Benjamin and I both bowed politely.

With everything settled, I glanced after Maelo, who walked off after ruffling our heads, then turned back to Ruben.

The way he smiled with that bright expression suited him, like someone destined to grow into a fine young man. It was a pleasing sight.