I Became the Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard

021. Sword Master (2)

Erylda felt a wave of exhaustion as she knelt on the bare ground.

In her view was the scene in front of the barracks, filled with the corpses of orcs.

Only one thought came to her mind.

‘We won…’

Somehow, they had managed to hold them off.

Their side had sustained minor and moderate injuries among the soldiers, but none were life-threatening.

This could be considered a perfect victory.

It was at that moment.

“Your Highness! Are you safe!!!”

Drenor appeared, making a fuss as usual.

Erylda lifted her head.

He first felt relief that he was safe.

But then, joy surged up from behind.

“Kallios!!!”

Kallios, who had been carried on horseback, was waving and smiling.

Erilda sprang up and ran towards him.

His body was not in normal condition.

There was no part of him that was unscathed, which gave an idea of how fierce the battle had been.

But even so, he was alive and could smile like this.

That was truly fortunate.

“Really… take care of yourself…”

It was the moment she muttered such a complaint.

Only then did Erilda see Yuren.

Erilda flinched.

There were no visible wounds, but his complexion looked terrible.

Judging by his appearance, he looked closer to death than anyone here.

“…Young Master?”

She asked cautiously, and Yuren’s gaze turned to Erilda.

Yuren stared at her silently for a moment, then left these words.

“I brought him as promised.”

He spoke as if it was nothing, but that very demeanor moved Erilda’s heart.

It was because his words before leaving came to mind.

– “I will somehow save His Highness the Crown Prince and return him to the capital. Even if it costs me my life.”

It seemed he had overexerted himself for that promise.

And, through such efforts, Yuren had certainly shown it.

– “Until then, please trust His Highness the Crown Prince.”

That it was okay to trust and rely on Kallios.

That he was not someone who would die so easily.

For some reason, her insides churned, and her eyes reddened at his efforts.

She felt sorry for having only seen him in a bad light, and gratitude welled up for his keeping his word.

Erilda did not want to shallowly express this feeling with the word ‘impressed.’

So, she perceived it a little differently.

“…Thank you.”

The words she barely managed to utter were of gratitude.

But what they contained was ‘trust.’

Erilda admitted to herself.

That Yuren was someone she could trust and rely on, and that he could see more than she could. “Really, thank you.” A small smile bloomed on Erilda’s face.

Yuren waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. Rather, let’s tidy up the camp. Can I rest now?”

“Yes, please do.”

Thus, Yuren turned around.

Erylda felt as if a burden in her heart had lightened a little.

The presence of a reliable ally, Yuren, was sharing the burden she carried not with words, but with actions.

* * *

The troops conscripted from the nearby territory only appeared after the work was done.

It wasn’t that they were slow.

The problem was that everything happened too quickly.

The ones who watched the devastation of the barracks with vacant eyes later helped clean up the barracks.

They were busy beyond words, gathering and burning the nearby orc corpses and tending to the wounded.

Thus, the conclusion was reached.

The intended orc subjugation had already achieved more than the intended amount.

But they couldn’t move immediately.

Because there were remnants.

The prince, who had roughly treated his injuries, immediately used the troops to deal with the remnants of the orcs gathered under the champion.

It was after all that was done.

“Pa, Paros Lord…”

“Go see someone else. I just feel a bit nauseous, no need for healing.”

I sent a priest who was hovering around anxiously to the soldiers.

I made a hammock and lay down in the sun.

When will this damned body move the way I want it to?

Besides those thoughts, something else came to mind.

Unnecessary suspicion.

It was a conjecture close to that level of speculation.

‘Why did the champion appear?’

It’s still doubtful.

When I recall my past life, it was like that.

Before the regression, the prince did not go on the coming-of-age subjugation.

Pharos… because touching me became a significant political flaw, and he was busy trying to recover his base.

That was the key.

The prince did not come here.

In other words, the top-tier expert forces that could easily capture the champion, and Sir Drenor the Swordmaster, did not come here.

If the orc champion had rampaged in that state,

then several territories near the southern plateau would have been destroyed.

With the forces here, it would have been absolutely impossible to face thousands of orcs.

The number of casualties would have easily exceeded ten thousand.

If it were such an incident, my sister would have known.

And she would have told me about it.

But I heard nothing.

In other words, the conjecture that the orc champion only appeared in this life gains more credibility.

One more doubtful point.

‘Those guys, it was almost like a suicide squad.’

Orcs are inherently a belligerent race.

But to devise a strategy akin to a suicide squad? That’s not their style.

If they had challenged us, it would have made more sense to bring their entire army and clash head-on.

But,

‘Clearly…’

They targeted the Crown Prince.

They devised a plan to sacrifice their lives solely to kill the Crown Prince.

Even their champion stepped forward.

Isn’t it too suspicious?

It might be my paranoia, but my experience in war tends to make my thoughts flow in this direction.

‘This is…’

I need to investigate further.

The Crown Prince’s imprisonment was thwarted, and I wondered if there was a group displeased by this change.

Of course, the facts I can uncover immediately are minimal.

I was feeling uneasy.

“Sogaju.”

“Ah, Sir Draenor.”

Sir Draenor appeared.

I tried to erase my thoughts and stand up.

After all, he is a Sword Master.

Lying down while answering is not very polite, is it?

However,

“That’s enough. Just stay lying down.”

Sir Drenor stopped him.

I offered my thanks.

“Ah, thank you for your consideration.”

In truth, it was hard to get up.

I felt my whole body not functioning properly due to the dull ache in my heart.

As I lay back down on the hammock, Sir Drenor stared at me intently.

The moment I saw his expression, a slightly disgusting feeling came over me.

“…Why are you doing this?”

What should I say?

It was the expression of someone looking at a child with a terminal illness.

Sad and pitiful, those emotions were clearly displayed on his face.

It felt strangely unpleasant.

As I narrowed my eyes, Sir Drenor turned his head to look into the distance.

His voice trembled.

“I’m sorry for you. I’ve burdened you with too much.”

“Yes? Ah, are you talking about His Highness the Crown Prince? If it’s that…”

“No. No, please don’t. I have come to know.”

…What’s with this guy?

“If you wish to keep it hidden, I will respect that. Is that not your loyalty?”

Kyung’s eyes were filled with melancholy.

I had no idea what nonsense he was spouting, but it seemed he wouldn’t listen to me anyway.

I didn’t want to waste my breath arguing.

“Yes, well…”

“You were more Pharos-like than anyone. But!”

Whack! Kyung turned his head towards me.

I flinched involuntarily at his glaring eyes.

It was in that moment.

“From now on, take care of your body. As someone who has devoted my body and soul to the Empire, I cannot stand by and watch a talent like you disappear into the dawn!!!”

As expected of a knight commander, his voice was annoyingly loud.

I still didn’t understand what he was saying.

I just played along.

“I will keep that in mind.”

“Ahem! Then I must go tend to the soldiers! Rest well!”

Thud! Thud!

Sir Drenor disappeared with heavy footsteps.

Even as I watched his retreating figure, I thought,

‘What the hell.’

Is that man out of his mind?

* * *

From noble mtl dot com

The day when all the aftermath of the subjugation was finally over.

In other words, it’s time to return to the capital.

Despite experiencing a dangerous accident, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

The ‘Rite of Resistance’ led to the hunting of a champion instead of the originally planned ordinary orc village, greatly enhancing the crown prince’s legitimacy.

It wasn’t just a political issue.

As the reincarnation of the founding emperor, showing such achievements earned the support of the people.

However, the crown prince seemed dissatisfied for some reason.

“In the end, you caught it, but still.”

“Can’t we just say we caught it together? I don’t need the credit.”

Pharos is a family at the pinnacle of honorary positions.

Just by looking at how Pharos’ achievements are measured by ‘how great a ruler he made,’ it was clear.

In other words, if the crown prince succeeds, I succeed.

This wasn’t mere modesty but a judgment of benefit, especially considering that what I teach is swordsmanship, my house Pharos could be said to have gained great glory from this achievement.

When I explained that, the crown prince smiled with an unpleasantly emotional expression.

“You are really…”

“What is it?”

“…No, I thought I knew you, but I don’t. You act like a rogue, but at times like this, you become serious.”

“I am a rogue. And I will continue to be one.”

It’s not that I really intend to live recklessly.

Just living like this, I feel something.

‘It’s convenient. Whatever I do, it can be explained as ‘because he’s a scoundrel’.’

This scoundrel image, though disgraceful, greatly reduces the restrictions on my words and actions.

Even if I treat those I want to beat up harshly, everyone accepts it, saying, ‘That’s just how he is.’

Is there any need to throw away such an advantage?

As I said before, as long as the crown prince behaves himself, I can be evaluated purely on my abilities.

‘Indeed, I was born into a good family.’

Such satisfaction was rising within me.

“…Well, I understand. But you won’t take all the credit alone. Just keep that in mind.”

“Just don’t say I caught it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But how about we think about this together?”

The good mood I had was gone with the crown prince’s words.

It wasn’t bad, just awkward.

“We need to bring proof of the subjugation. You turned the champion’s corpse into a lump of meat.”

His gaze is piercing.

That question, ‘How did you do it? Is it a skill I can learn too?’ will come up again.

I don’t know how much I’ve been tormented over the past few days.

Even if I say no, he climbs up, saying, ‘There’s no way I can’t do what you do!’ so I disciplined him with a stick.

Still, seeing that he can’t give up, I wonder what to do with his stubbornness.

Anyway,

“…The decorations and weapons are still intact. The head is half intact too. Can’t we just take that?”

“Well, we could, but…”

He changed the subject.

Thus, the proof of the subjugation was decided to be the head of the champion without a jaw, the decorations it wore, and the great sword.

‘If I had known this, I would have left the body too.’

It was the price of injecting too much power due to the lack of control over the body’s mana.

He was paying for it like this.

He avoided the prince’s eyes until the end.

Even at the moment of return.

The capital could be seen in the distance.

A sudden wave of emotion washed over him at the thought of having come home.

At that moment, as they returned to the place they had left, Erilda stopped the march and spoke.

“Now, change back into your ceremonial robes here.”

He had to enter wearing the splendid ceremonial robes, just as when he had left.

The southern gate of the capital was already crowded.

He somehow managed to put on the difficult-to-wear clothes and impaled the proof of the orc champion’s subjugation on a giant pole.

Thus, the preparations for the entry were completed.

Suddenly, Erilda said something.

“…We won’t be seeing each other for a while. Us.”

“Yes, it seems you are quite busy with public affairs. Isn’t the founding festival soon? Good luck with the preparations.”

The busiest during the Founding Festival is the Crown Prince’s side.

Not only are there speeches, but he also has to personally greet important guests from other nations on behalf of the Emperor, and he has to split his time visiting civilian inspections.

Erylda, who assists the Crown Prince, is equally busy.

When I mentioned this, Erylda clamped her mouth shut.

“Why do you ask?”

Her gaze turned to me.

Her brows furrowed as if deep in thought, then she let out a long sigh.

Finally, Erylda muttered.

“…If you need help, I’ll come find you.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Arya is going that way anyway. I’ll just take you to the mansion when I come out.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Why is she so persistent?

As I pondered, a sudden thought crossed my mind.

“…If you want a cheeseburger, just say so. I can make you one.”

I wondered if her glances at me during meals were because she was eyeing the cheeseburger.

Erylda quickly turned her head.

Her earlobes were red.

‘You.’

Her body is honest, after all.

* * *

Pharos’ mansion, by the window of the office overlooking the capital.

Acting head Cecilia Pharos gazed towards the southern gate with trembling eyes.

Cheers could be heard even here.

-Waaah!!!

It must be Yuren returning.

I hope he isn’t hurt.

Cecilia’s heart was never at ease.

In fact, it had been this way ever since Yuren left.

Lately, her brother had become particularly reliable and eager to fulfill his duties, but that only made Cecilia more anxious.

To her, Yuren was still a naive and fragile child who seemed like he could break at any moment.

She had lost some sleep due to worry.

Eating had also become uncomfortable.

As a result, she had become somewhat gaunt.

But she couldn’t stay like this.

“Miss! The young master is on his way back!”

Cecilia forced herself to calm her anxious heart.

She didn’t want to show her brother, who had recently started worrying about her health, her unseemly state.

Cecilia dressed neatly.

And then she came out to the front of the mansion.

Please be safe, please be unharmed.

With that wish, she gazed into the distance for a long time.

A figure was coming into view.

Cecilia’s eyes widened slightly.

It was Euren, approaching on horseback with a slouched posture.

Their eyes met.

‘You’ve grown thin.’

Had he not been eating well?

Was he injured?

As her worries refused to fade, Euren had already dismounted and approached her.

Then, turning his rough features into a gentle smile, he spoke.

“I’ve returned, sister.”

Only then could Cecilia finally feel at ease.

Seeing his face made her realize he had returned safely.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Did you encounter any danger?”

“No, sister. I am your brother, after all. I wouldn’t do anything to worry you.”

It was a relief, a great relief.

Cecilia held Euren’s hand tightly.

“You’ve worked hard. Come inside and rest.”

If they weren’t in danger, that was enough.

Sending his younger brother to a battlefield where lives were at stake was such a heartbreaking thing.

But now, those worries were over.

Cecilia, with a joyful heart and her characteristic sorrowful smile, led Yuren inside.

Thus, they peacefully concluded their return.

However, it was only peaceful at that moment.

“Miss! Have you heard the news? This is…”

“What is it?”

“…Rumors are spreading throughout the capital. They say that the Orc Champion captured by His Highness the Crown Prince was actually taken down by him and the young lord together! His Highness himself said so!”

The next day, the rumor spread throughout the entire capital.

It reached Cecilia’s ears as well.

Cecilia imagined Yuren bleeding, stabbed by the giant orc.

Stagger―!

“Ah, Miss!”

Cecilia fainted.

Seeing this, Yuren’s blood rushed to his head.

‘That damn Crown Prince.’

Of course, regardless, the rumor continued to spread like wildfire.

“Did you hear? They say the swordsmanship theory of the young lord of Pharos reaches the heavens.”

“They say the Crown Prince was able to defeat the Champion thanks to the swordsmanship guidance of the young lord of Pharos!”

“Is that rumor true?”

“The Crown Prince himself said so.”

“Ah, even the Knight Commander says that the young lord of Pharos is a tragic genius…”

With less than two weeks left until the founding festival, the capital was abuzz with such rumors.

End

ⓒ papapa.

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