The Sword Saint Frederick had met many humans in his 70 years of life, but the little one before him was truly the most peculiar being.
First of all, there was no aura of magic when she entered.
He knew there were two people outside based on the footsteps. He could guess who they were by the sound of their steps, but pinpointing exactly whose footsteps they were was quite a challenge.
Of course, if it was a sound he was used to hearing, it would be a different story. There might be similar strides, but absolutely no identical person.
The footsteps he heard from behind belonged to one of the few disciples of the Sword Saint. This disciple had come to learn swordplay but decided to leave halfway through, proclaiming that he had learned enough to handle things in real combat.
If he had completed his training, he would have had the talent to inherit the title of ‘Sword Saint,’ but that disciple’s ambitions weren’t solely about the sword.
He often dropped by for a chat, and every time, Frederick would throw something like a bowl, an ashtray, or a jar at that disciple’s face. Of course, the disciple had never actually been hit. It was never thrown with the intent to hit.
But then whose footsteps were leading the way ahead of that disciple?
They weren’t as light as the disciple’s. Rather, they were heavy and weary. At the same time, they were confident, not pausing for a moment.
“Hmm.”
Indeed, the moment those footsteps approached Frederick’s cabin, they became even more pronounced. It was as though they crossed over some invisible wall.
To be honest, it was a bit intriguing.
If those footsteps continued, they would definitely arrive at the door before the disciple, and they would probably be the one to open it too.
Frederick picked up a basket from the table. It was empty, so it was light enough; if it were to hit someone, it wouldn’t cause serious harm. Moreover, if he was standing right in front of the door, it would be hard for someone to avoid it.
Holding the basket and readying himself, Frederick quietly waited when—
“Huh?”
The footsteps stopped at the door.
To be more precise, they stopped just a step away from the door.
It was as if the one beyond the door understood that the Sword Saint was holding something, and thus paused their advance.
Then the door opened.
Nothing was there.
“…Don’t just stand there, come in.”
After a few seconds of waiting, the Sword Saint spoke, and in walked a child too young to be called a ‘girl’ just yet. Although the age might be judged differently among the nobility, to Frederick, who had lived a bit more than 70 years, calling this girl a ‘child’ was no oddity.
She wore a fuzzy outfit, and her forehead was damp with sweat.
Did this kid sense him inside the cabin and open the door herself?
Yet she looked quite tired from the journey. The upper half of her body appeared as though she was holding back her breath. Her face was utterly expressionless.
Above all, while he could feel ‘presence’ from her, there was no sign of the unique ‘energy’ found in those who had learned to wield a sword.
As if she had no talent in this direction whatsoever.
“Master, how have you been?”
A foolish-looking disciple full of a mischievous grin walked in, but the enthusiasm was broken as Frederick let go of the basket in his hand.
“What brings you all the way here? And who is this child? Clearly, you didn’t come just to chat like usual.”
“Yes, well, I have a favor to ask, so I thought I’d combine it with visiting.”
“…”
Frederick caught the disciple’s gaze shifting toward the girl.
Oh ho.
It’s been 15 years since he found everything tedious and entered a hermitage.
For the first time in ages, Frederick felt like he might discover something interesting.
*
The girl’s strangeness didn’t end there.
“So, you want to learn something from me?”
“Yes. I would like to learn how to control my energy. I’m aware that through meditation, one can gather their mind and bring their body into the right state. I want to be taught that method.”
“Hmm.”
Frederick narrowed his eyes and stared at the girl. He thought she might show some fear, but in contrast, she didn’t flinch at his gaze.
To Frederick, it seemed as if the girl wasn’t perfectly hiding her energy but rather unable to express any. In other words, it felt like she had no talent for it at all.
“You seem like you have no talent.”
He couldn’t outright declare that she lacked talent, though. There was a sensation that this girl was different from the ordinary kids he encountered every day.
Was the cautiousness she showed when entering just part of her personality?
“Perhaps in swordplay, that might be true. But I am confident in what I already know.”
“Oh?”
But her confidence gave Frederick an oddly uneasy feeling. It wasn’t the usual swagger; there was a certain firmness that suggested some genuine confidence.
“Also, I’m not asking you to teach me without offering something in return.”
“Something in return.”
Frederick observed the girl before him. Was she a Crown Princess? Maybe she was talking about money.
“If I needed money—”
“It’s not money.”
—then he would have been living much more extravagantly by now.
But that thought was interrupted.
This bold little princess didn’t appear to be discussing money at all.
“It’s a matter of strength.”
“Strength?”
“Yes. You seek a worthy opponent to duel with, don’t you, Sword Saint?”
“…”
She wasn’t wrong.
With life being so brief, there was nothing better than finding someone to clash blades with.
However.
“…Are you talking about the Emperor?”
“No.”
The Sword Saint’s guess went spectacularly wrong.
“One of the Emperor’s children is a swordsman. Surely you would find them satisfactory.”
The Crown Princess looked straight into Frederick’s eyes as she spoke.
“If you wish, I could arrange a meeting.”
“…”
The girl wasn’t lying; her eyes weren’t deceptive.
Frederick briefly glanced at Jennifer, who was just leaning against the wall with a shrug, a smile on her face as if she found it funny.
“Hmm.”
Frederick pondered briefly and then said, “Fine. I was also feeling a bit bored.”
With those words, he consented.
*
“…”
Did the Crown Princess have talent or not?
If he were to ask, the Sword Saint would likely have declared, “No talent.”
Yet at the same time, he felt something strange about her.
She certainly lacked talent. Her ability to learn was no different from any other ordinary person on the street. He believed there was little chance she would master the meditation techniques in just one day.
But aside from that—
The Crown Princess was complete.
Specifically, she had come to meet the Sword Saint just on the brink of completion.
As if someone had devoted months of doing nothing—no sleep, no food—just purely engaging in meditation, she entered a state of mental stability almost immediately before the Sword Saint could even teach her anything.
She seemed to soothe her worn-out body, recovering her breath almost as if she had just hiked moments ago.
“…”
There was a tranquility in her demeanor, as if she was merely continuing what she had been doing until now, almost divine.
And Frederick wasn’t the only one at a loss for words due to her presence.
…Had she brought the future here somehow?
It was an absurd notion, yet that’s how Frederick felt.
“…”
After thinking for a moment,
swish!
He swiftly struck the Crown Princess’s head with the edge of his hand.
He didn’t mean to strike with full force.
But neither did he swing it merely as a joke. If it were anyone who had never trained, they would have certainly lost consciousness from that blow.
However, the edge of the Sword Saint’s hand split the air.
The girl, who was sitting cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees and eyes closed, shifted her body slightly back at the last moment to evade the strike.
Even though she wouldn’t have sensed the energies around her while meditating.
“Oh?”
The Sword Saint made a sound of surprise.
She had no talent.
But she was already complete. At that age.
In terms of age, she was achieving it much earlier than Frederick had at the same age.
If that were the case, was she hiding her energy? Had she perhaps reached a clarity even beyond what Jennifer could attain?
If that were true, then there would be no reason to come all the way here to learn meditation.
Slowly, the Crown Princess opened her eyes. She looked up at the Sword Saint with her deep black pupils, eerily calm as if she knew how things would unfold next.
Her demeanor resembled the statue he had seen in the East.
“You, are you truly serious about learning swordplay?”
“I have no talent.”
As if she had completed some business, the Crown Princess dusted herself off and stated.
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