Swordmaster of the Great Wall

-Bang! Bang! Bang!

From early morning, Erich's door resounded noisily. Instinctively opening his eyes, Erich got up from bed and quietly listened.

'It's not Finn. The knocking sounds heavy. Armor, perhaps.'

Of course, it was about time for Finn to come and wake him up. But after a year since his regression, he'd already grown quite accustomed to the old attendant Finn.

'Too loud to be Finn.'

He straightened the collar of his shirt and opened the door. There, he saw the figure of a knight standing.

A chiseled face and a solid impression. Moreover, with a body frame at least a head taller than Erich, he looked even more intimidating. Erich quietly surveyed his appearance and spotted the lion emblem engraved on his armor.

"I am Milon of House Roland. Here by the order of the grand duke."

"What brings you here?"

At that moment, a clattering noise erupted from the hallway, carrying loud footsteps.

Just from the sound, Erich could tell who it was.

"Y-young master!"

Just as expected, the owner of those footsteps was Finn. He flinched for a moment when he saw Milon standing guard at the door but then opened his mouth.

"Sir Milon! What is the meaning of this? The proper custom is to request an audience through me, the attendant, if there is business to conduct...."

"Spare me. Attendant Finn. Anyone might think you're here to receive a count or something."

"Sir Milon! Watch your mouth! And you...!"

Finn erupted in outrage. He seemed genuinely angry. But Erich simply waved his hand toward Finn and said,

"That's enough, Finn. So, you're Sir Milon, right? What are the grand duke's orders?"

"I am Milon of House Roland, Erich. I've come to teach you the sword."

Erich narrowed his eyes. His father, the grand duke, had never even considered teaching him swordsmanship. Compared to Friedrich and Ludwig, Erich's investment was practically nonexistent.

And yet, suddenly sending a family knight to instruct him in swordsmanship...

"What nonsense is this?!"

But Finn cried out even louder. Pointing at Milon, he continued,

"You are not fit to be young master Erich's opponent in this Iceborn! And he's to entrust his swordsmanship to such a person?"

"If you have complaints, relay them directly to the grand duke. I am just carrying out his order."

Thus, Finn and Milon began their squabble. All the while, Erich silently watched their fight, lost in thought.

'So Milon is my opponent.'

It seemed Finn was late this morning because he'd gone to check the matchups. Probably on his way back, he'd run into Milon.

But...

'It wouldn't have been father's idea.'

To teach swordsmanship to his son's upcoming opponent in a deadly duel at Iceborn? The grand duke would never have ordered something so blatantly illogical.

Of course, if anyone were to pull such a stunt, it was obvious who it would be. Erich let out a faint laugh and naturally thought of one person.

'The grand duchess.'

The grand duke Krupp's official wife, and the emperor's elder sister. The woman with the most power a lady could wield next to the empress.

The problem was that she absolutely detested Erich.

'Even in the future, she'd roll up her sleeves to trip me up at every turn. A truly helpful person.'

Just like now. She was once more trying to ruin the plans Erich had set.

Still.

"This sounds amusing. Let him try to teach me."

"Y-young master!"

"Finn. The fact that a family knight is here means father gave his approval. I don't have the right to refuse."

Finn choked down his anger. He understood full well what Erich was saying. He just found it hard to accept this unreasonable situation.

Anyway, after a brief silence, both Erich and Finn fell quiet. Then Milon broke the silence.

"Let's go."

Finn's eyes narrowed, and Erich shrugged. But with the grand duke's consent given, there was nothing more to say.

Milon led Erich to the open training ground within the mansion grounds, the usual spot for soldiers and knights to train.

Upon arriving, Milon grabbed a suitable wooden sword and tossed it to Erich.

― Thud.

"Let me say this beforehand. I don't like this assignment either—but I won't be holding back in my teaching."

"So, no strange ulterior motives?"

"I don't live that dirty."

As Erich seized the sword, he mulled over Milon's words.

'The Roland family... Even in my memories, they were reputed as exemplars among knights.'

But the grand duchess had roped Milon Roland into her petty games as a chess piece.

He didn't seem the type to go along with her scheme. So why pick Milon and create this situation?

"Well, I'll find that out now."

"And what are you hoping to find out? You've never even swung a sword in your life."

Milon's tone was biting. Understandable, as he himself was none too pleased with this situation.

What should have been an honorable duel was now twisted into a farce by the grand duchess's manipulations.

'He can't vent his anger at the grand duchess, so he'll take it out here, huh.'

If things were as they should, the current Erich was little more than a greenhorn who'd only been taught the basics.

Whereas Milon Roland, knight of the grand duke—even if not so old—was a veteran of many battlefields compared to Erich.

"There are prodigies who need only a few tries."

No sooner had Erich offhandedly said this, when Milon lunged at him, his face twisted like a fiend.

― Clang!

The hard wooden swords collided. Tension appeared on Finn's watching face.

But fortunately, Erich calmly parried Milon's attack.

Milon continued an honest pattern of offense against Erich.

'Testing my level by seeing how long I last?'

Annoyed as he was by the grand duchess's stunt, Milon seemed a diligent knight—he'd been tasked to teach swordsmanship, and he intended to do so faithfully.

Still.

As their bout went on, surprise began to spread across Milon's face.

No matter how lightly he went, Erich was not only blocking but even pressing him back at times.

― Clang! Crack!

Erich parried Milon's attack and swept his blade down, aiming for Milon's wrist. Milon quickly pulled back in response.

"Well? Is the word prodigy starting to make sense to you?"

"...."

"Or is it that Sir Milon went too easy on me and made it comfortable for me to learn?"

Milon's face hardened.

'Now, let's see how you react, sir Milon. Your pride must have taken a hit.'

Erich waited for Milon's response. His pride would surely be stung after those taunts. But the words Milon finally spoke were unexpected.

"I apologize for underestimating you. ... I'll need to change my approach."

With that, Milon adjusted his grip. He meant to fight seriously now. The sword in his hand, though honest, felt that much heavier after his resolve shifted.

― Clang! Clang!

Erich matched Milon's energy and continued their spar.

As Finn watched, his expression grew more relaxed.

"I think this will suffice."

Sweating, Milon set his sword down. In a detached voice, he hung the practice sword back where it came from. After a moment's thought, he spoke.

"To be honest, I've never once thought you'd be at the level to face me in the tournament."

"So? Has your opinion changed?"

"It has. I... wrongly judged you based only on rumor. Even if you didn't learn from me, you're already a completed swordsman."

"I gratefully accept your praise, sir Milon. Though, my opinion of you has changed a little as well. May I ask, why did you agree to this, knowing the grand duchess's intent? You could have refused."

"Everyone has their reasons. Just as you're still hiding your strength."

"Did you notice?"

"... Let's meet every morning at this hour."

Erich smiled at Milon's words. In spite of holding back, Milon seemed to see that he'd kept some of his strength hidden.

Then, without another word, Milon left the training ground. Finn approached Erich.

"Young master, well done. This is not what I expected. I thought he would try to intimidate you."

"... Honestly, someone better than I expected showed up. Finn, I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?"

"Try digging up Milon's circumstances for me. He doesn't seem the type to mesh well with the grand duchess."

"Understood. By the way, aren't you going to check the tournament bracket?"

"What good would that do? Knowing won't change anything."

"If you know your enemy, you can win every battle. You should know your opponent...."

"Enough. Just tell me when the prelims start."

Waving off Finn's advice, Erich clenched his fist. It had been a while since he'd swung a sword, but his hand still tingled from the weight of Milon's blows.

'Still far to go if I want to regain my original level.'

So thinking, Erich allowed himself a small smile, recalling the chill of the last battlefield he'd faced before his regression.

***

The next day, crowds thronged the Krupp estate.

― Tsk-clack.

Most rode in on horseback, accompanied by their attendants—nobles and knights alike—who'd come to compete in the Iceborn preliminary round.

"I am Barek of Kashis."

"Number 144. Please sit and wait."

"Wait?"

The armored knight Barek frowned. Apparently, he found it offensive to be treated that way, given that he was a knight.

Sensing his master's discontent, barek's attendant stepped forward.

"This is Sir Barek of Kashis! Surely you know Sir Barek?"

"I don't care if it's Barek or Berak, just wait when you're told."

The attendant's face twisted, but the Watch member simply returned his displeasure with set expressions.

The Watch member had the air of men who'd just come from dealing with criminals, and their cold stares forced the attendant to retreat, clearing his throat.

"*Ahem*. Sir Barek, that's what they said."

"... How dare they insult—"

― Clink.

A metallic sound issued from Barek's sword. The blade was halfway out of the sheath.

But then,

― Thud.

"Take your arguments and spout them in your own room."

"And who are you?"

A hand had somehow clamped down on Barek's sword hilt as he drew it, pressing it back into the sheath. Clearly displeased, barek bared his teeth.

But the man who blocked him showed no interest, walking straight over to the Watch member.

"You must have a death wish...!"

"Erich Krupp. If you want to kill me, pray we meet in the ring."

At the sound of that name—Erich Krupp—Barek stopped trying to draw his sword and blinked in shock.

"Sir Erich. You are number 1."

"Sir? I don't have a title. Just call me Erich."

"Understood, Erich. The preliminaries will begin soon, so please wait a moment."

The staff showed Erich marked respect. Erich could guess why.

'Because of that incident, huh.'

The watchmen disliked nobles, finding them arrogant without ability. But word had spread that Erich had shown enough skill to subdue a watchman previously, so he'd earned their respect.

Of course, the fact that his presence drove noble participation in the tournament to new heights also contributed.

At any rate, the instant Barek heard the name Krupp, he began to retreat with his foolish attendant.

Erich called out,

"Hey, you—Barek, was it?"

"Yes? Ah! Yes! It's an honor, sir Erich!"

"When you swing your sword, take more care than with your lower parts. Or you might die without anyone knowing."

"I-I'll be careful."

Barek took it as a warning from House Krupp and turned pale—though Erich's intentions were a little different.

'No need for bloodshed before Iceborn even starts.'

He glanced at the laughing watchmen. Although only rank-and-file, they were the subordinates of Konrad, one of the five chief officers of the watchmen.

These veteran watchmen, hardened at the great wall, could hardly be compared to greenhorns like Barek. Erich's actions had, in effect, saved Barek's life.

"With Iceborn attracting such crowds, all sorts of riffraff are showing up."

"It's a good chance for lesser houses to make a name for themselves. Who knows? Maybe one will catch father's eye and be chosen as a knight."

"... Someone that rustic...?"

"Anyone can hope, can they not."

Of course, that's only if they survived.

Erich's gaze traveled over the wide Iceborn preliminaries. Nobles, knights, and swordsmen from who knew where crowded the grounds.

As he thought, most of them just wanted a chance to attach their name to House Krupp.

'... Fools. Will any of them leave here unscathed?'

Erich spared them a trace of pity. None of them realized how terrifying this no-holds-barred gladiatorial tournament, Iceborn, truly was.

Indeed, it was rare for someone from the noble houses to attend Iceborn so openly.

As he waited, someone called out his name.

"Erich of House Krupp! Please come to the ring."

Without hesitation, Erich stood. Accepting his sword from Finn, he walked slowly toward the gate leading to the ring.

Ready to challenge the Iceborn preliminaries.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
3 chapters in, or 4 if you count the prologue, and I'm hooked...
I can't really explain...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】