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

The beginner swordsmanship class on Wednesday morning was uneventful, focusing as usual on form and technique with my brother, and there were no special incidents.

The August sunlight was still hot, and I felt sorry for Shayden and some of the other kids who seemed exhausted, but there was nothing I could do for them.

The imperial lineage class also passed without any particular event.

Today, as usual, Professor Calips Agrigent’s voice sounded hoarse. I wondered if it was because of the heat…

Feeling sorry for him, I joked about buying the voice amplifier used by Professor Jurgen Kaiser, the artifact instructor. However, Shayden earnestly urged me not to do it.

“Why can’t I? Is there a rule that says I can’t give a gift to a professor?”

“No, it’s not that, but the voice amplifier is out of the question. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“It’s because of the condition of the professor’s throat.”

“Condition?”

“…It’s just not allowed. Would I make you do something bad?”

“Alright.”

There must have been a reason why Shayden was being so insistent, so I just nodded and dismissed the thought.

In the “Praise of Fine Horses” class, we learned to identify various types of saddles and bridles by their condition.

There were two of each type, ranging from the lowest quality to the highest quality, one old and worn from use, and the other brand new with the packaging just opened.

I diligently took notes as Professor Bivan Otiff explained the structure and purpose of each part of the saddle. I hadn’t brought any writing instruments, thinking that we would be doing manual work, but one of my classmates lent me their pen. They were so happy to lend it to me that I felt grateful.

The saddles and bridles used by Ciaran were different from those of the Central Plains.

Although I didn’t usually ride horses, I had never seen saddles for young children with backrests, and they seemed quite foreign to me.

Some of them had thicker cushions to reduce discomfort, and there were separate saddles for indoor use and for women.

One of the high-end saddles even had a space cut out in the middle for people suffering from hemorrhoids, which made me exclaim in surprise. Why would anyone with such a condition be riding a horse…?

I couldn’t help but chuckle, but Professor Bivan Otiff quickly scolded me.

“You shouldn’t laugh. Ciaran is so vast that people have to travel by horse a lot, and many suffer from such conditions. So even the healthiest person must take regular breaks when riding. If you notice any symptoms, it’s important to see a doctor right away. If not, you’ll suffer for a lifetime.”

“Is that from experience?”

“I’ve seen a lot of people like that. It’s indirect experience.”

After my mischievous question, I giggled more, but Professor Bivan Otiff then asked us to come up one by one and try saddling the horses ourselves.

We approached a horse that was already bridled, showed the saddle to the horse first, and then placed it on its back.

With Bivan Otiff holding the reins and guiding us step by step, even the beginners were able to do it calmly.

After repeating the process of saddling and unsaddling the horse about five times, Bivan Otiff put the horse back in the stable and brought out another one. When I asked why, he gave a straightforward answer.

“Well, it’s not exactly fun for the horses when we awkwardly saddle and unsaddle them, right? They’re just letting us do it because they’re patient.”

“…I see.”

“It’s not just people who get frustrated by doing unpleasant things over and over. Horses feel the same. After five times, we praise them, give them a carrot, and let them rest in the stable.”

I was quite surprised by the gentle expression on Bivan Otiff’s face. As he stroked the cheek of the new horse, he continued.

“Always remember that these are living creatures, animals with thoughts and feelings. If you treat them well, they won’t betray you.”

“Yes.”

Among my friends, I alone remained silent.

I knew that Ciaran treated people with kindness, but I didn’t realize they also showed such care with animals.

While it wasn’t necessary to be overly rough, the way they showed affection for such small things seemed remarkable to me.

In the Central Plains, animals were just livestock.

Even the finest horses, eating good hay and wearing gold-adorned bridles and saddles, were still just animals. It was common to kill horses during wartime to prevent them from running away, often by cutting their necks.

Horses and cows of poorer lineage worked until they were old, and then were turned into meat.

Food was scarce back then. Dried meat made from old horses was so tough it felt like chewing on stones. The bitter and salty taste of the dried meat would linger in my mouth.

Indeed, it was the same with people. When I first learned swordsmanship at the age of five, I had to swing the sword a thousand times just to be able to eat. It wasn’t surprising that I couldn’t really grasp the praise given for simply standing still and saddling a horse properly.

These creatures, too, wouldn’t betray us as long as we didn’t forget that they had emotions. Reflecting on Professor Bivan Otiff’s words, I quietly gazed into the large eyes of the horse. When our eyes met, the horse made a soft “hee-hee” sound, almost as if it was smiling.

Several horses came out in front of the children and then returned to the stable, repeatedly.

Shayden and I successfully completed our tasks. Benjamin was the last one. His steps were heavier and slower than usual, clearly nervous.

“Hee-hee.”

“Whoa, whoa. It’s okay, it’s okay. Why are you acting like this after holding it in so well?”

Professor Bivan Otiff tried to calm the horse by rubbing its neck, but as Benjamin stepped within three paces of the horse, it became noticeably anxious.

The horse was frightened, which caused the other children to also become nervous, watching Benjamin carefully.

The horse backed up and stamped its hooves. As a result, the reins held tightly by Bivan Otiff were pulled taut. Looking into the horse’s wide, bloodshot eyes, Bivan lowered his voice and commanded.

“…Claudian Young Master, could you take two steps back for now?”

“…Yes.”

Benjamin stepped back. The horse stamped its hooves a few more times but then, as if by magic, calmed down.

However, even from a distance, the horse still eyed him nervously, which was clear to us, even though we weren’t familiar with horses.

Without hesitation, Bivan Otiff returned the horse to the stable and brought out a larger, stronger one.

“You’re from the swordsmanship department, right? How skilled are you?”

“I’m now at the level of Sword Expert Advanced.”

“Is that so?”

Bivan and Benjamin exchanged words that seemed difficult to understand. I couldn’t see the connection between swordsmanship and handling horses.

I wondered if it meant that Benjamin was capable of handling a horse without being harmed by its hooves. I was still puzzled. Bivan skillfully saddled the new horse and let it get used to the saddle’s smell and shape before handing it over to Benjamin.

“Take your time. Be careful, hold the saddle gently. Walk around the front of the horse, not from the back or side.”

Benjamin Claudian, holding his breath, followed the instructions.

The new horse also grew tense as Benjamin approached. It sniffed the air and stomped its front hooves on the ground.

Still, it seemed to tolerate the situation better than the mare that had just returned to the stable.

When Benjamin stood two steps in front of the horse’s head and half a step behind Bivan Otiff, Bivan praised him.

“Good, well done. Now, show the saddle just like I did.”

“…Yes.”

Benjamin followed the instructions again. The horse glanced at the saddle and then looked up at Benjamin’s face.

Bivan Otiff loosened the reins slightly, giving the horse some space in case it wanted to step back.

The horse, which had been eyeing Benjamin for a while, touched the saddle with its nose, sniffed it, and then turned its head away, avoiding eye contact. Bivan, with a voice full of satisfaction, spoke.

“Now, you can move to the side. The horse has allowed it. Don’t rush, just walk slowly.”

Benjamin, still tense, didn’t respond.

He slowly walked to the side and stood next to the horse. After that, things became easier. Just like the other students, Benjamin placed the saddle on the horse’s back and tied the knots. Although the horse occasionally nudged Bivan Otiff’s shoulder with its head or gave small stamps with its hooves, it remained still.

Benjamin checked the saddle, making sure it was secure, counted to three, and then unsaddled the horse without any issues.

When he had finished removing the saddle, the joy on his face was so clear it was almost tangible.

“Perfect. Well done. Now, shall we head back to your place, Claudian Young Master? I’ll give you some praise before we go.”

“Yes.”

“Good job, well done, oh how wonderful. How brave you are! Amazing~.”

Bivan praised the horse for being so patient.

I watched in fascination as Bivan stroked the horse’s nose, tapped its solid neck, and then gave it three carrots. Afterward, the horse seemed to relax.

With a crisp crunching sound, the horse finished eating the carrots and snorted. Bivan praised the horse again, loudly, before returning it to the stable.

Should I handle horses like that too? I thought for a moment but didn’t feel any connection to it.

After returning the horse to the stable, Bivan Otiff clapped his hands loudly and laughed.

“I understand now. I know why Benjamin Claudian can’t handle horses.”

“What’s the reason?”

Benjamin asked eagerly, but Bivan just laughed heartily.

“Claudian Young Master, you don’t have any younger siblings, do you?”

Benjamin Claudian was the third son of the Claudian Marquis family.

I was puzzled, wondering what that had to do with anything. Looking around, it was clear that no one else understood either.

Benjamin, confused, blinked his eyes, unsure of what was meant.