Chapter 13 : Chapter 13
Chapter 13. Even Rolling in the Dirt, the Boy Smiled (1)
It was a mystery why Ulrich Tiedemann, who said going back 30 years into the past was the limit, had gone back 190 years.
But he could not just sit and do nothing. Blanc had to accomplish the share of Ulrich, who had failed his regression.
To do so, he first had to build his skills.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH.
“Your lower body must not shake! You must root yourself into the ground like a sturdy tree!”
Sir Edwin, Count Bartomyu’s guard knight, shouted at Blanc, who was swinging his sword down.
He remembered hearing about Knight Edwin, who had excellent skills and had served the Tolome family for a long time, in his past life.
Blanc had been overwhelmed with emotion to be able to receive training from such a famous knight, but.
‘498, 499…… 500!’
Now he was overwhelmed with emotion in a different sense.
“500 times! I’m done!”
This old knight, who spoke his mind even in front of Count Bartomyu, rolled Blanc roughly with an attitude asking who he thought he was.
To Edwin, who rolled him while sending a gaze saying ‘Will you endure even this? Even this?’, Blanc responded by sending a venomous gaze.
It had been a month since he started rolling on the dirt ground like that.
Although he was a scion of a Count family and the head of a Baron family, Blanc was following the training Edwin ordered without uttering a single complaint.
Looking at Blanc panting and following his training, an ambiguous smile hung on Edwin’s lips.
“Then rest for a moment and…….”
“Rest?”
“You did vertical cuts until just now, so you have to do horizontal cuts too. Horizontal cuts 500 times!”
‘……Damn it!’
Indeed, those called knights were usually extraordinarily tough.
Today as well, the sound of Blanc wailing rang out in the training ground.
***
A simple grayish-white office.
“How is Blanc?”
Bartomyu, the head of the Tolome family, was asking Edwin about the progress of Blanc’s swordsmanship instruction.
He was a grandson who had asked to invite an expert to teach him the basics.
Bartomyu had intended to pay a generous amount to a famous Swordsmanship Guild to invite a sword instructor for such a grandson, but.
-If the Count allows, I would like to instruct him myself.
-You?
-Yes.
The first meeting with Blanc had not been impressive only to Bartomyu.
Knight Edwin, who was Bartomyu’s most cherished sword and a comrade who had roamed the battlefield together, had volunteered saying he wanted to instruct Blanc himself.
To the cold-natured Count Bartomyu, saying he cherished someone meant the same as saying their skills were excellent. Perhaps Edwin was the most outstanding knight within the Tolome family next to the eldest son, Schumacher Tolome.
Sir Edwin, fifty-six years old this year, had married early, but his sons had no talent for swordsmanship, so he had no successor to pass on his swordsmanship to.
Bartomyu had assigned talented noble boys as squires for him, but perhaps because he pushed the training harshly to the point of being too severe, they had all run away.
Now, rumors had spread widely, and there were no more young noble boys willing to become Edwin’s squire.
If this situation continued, he would have to pick a disciple even from among the commoners.
“My grandson hasn’t died yet, has he?”
To Bartomyu, who joked with a hearty laugh, Edwin also answered with a smile.
“My age will be sixty soon too. I am not as sharp as before. Count.”
Out of the eight squires Bartomyu attached, five could not last a month, two could not last half a year, and the remaining one could not last a year.
One of the squires who could not last half a year was Jonas Tolome, Bartomyu’s eldest grandson.
Even now, Jonas was so afraid of Edwin that he would break into a cold sweat just seeing him.
Edwin, who had lost eight squires like that.
He also felt something, so he tried not to treat Blanc harshly, but.
“Iselin says that whenever she goes to play, Blanc is either vomiting or in a faint?”
“Ahem…….”
Edwin let out an awkward cough to try and escape the situation.
Nedrian, the youngest daughter Bartomyu cherished the most in the Tolome family where women were rare.
Following her, the grandchild who currently received the most love from Bartomyu was Iselin, the youngest Tolome.
A young girl who roamed around the mansion holding a pouch containing sunflower seeds, acting as Bartomyu’s eyes.
Since the area Iselin was most interested in lately was her newfound cousin Blanc, Edwin could not feign ignorance even if he wanted to.
“It seems there is deep resentment in his heart. Even if I train him harshly, he follows along tenaciously.”
It was a venomous spirit difficult for noble boys of that age to possess.
Of course, since Blanc was given a chance again through regression, he could follow along with a smile no matter how hard the training was, but the two people here did not know that circumstance, so they just thought it was related to his parents’ death and felt pity.
“Right, how is it after teaching him for a month? Do you still want to teach only the basics? If so, tell me quickly. I have to invite an expert to teach him decent swordsmanship.”
“Ahem, well, that…… If only the Count permits, I would like to try once…….”
Hearing Edwin say he wanted to pass on his swordsmanship to Blanc, a deep smile spread on Bartomyu’s lips.
Although not in the current generation, Edwin was a knight so outstanding that he was counted on one hand among the knights active in the Felix Kingdom in the previous generation.
To the extent that if Edwin in his prime and the current Schumacher were to battle, the conclusion would not be easily reached.
Therefore, he had pushed his eldest grandson Jonas in as his squire, but the result was a failure.
He could have given a word of flattery for his superior and the kingdom’s Count, Bartomyu, but Edwin had rather coldly evaluated that Jonas had a problem with his character rather than his talent.
Since Bartomyu knew his upright character well, the joy when he heard he wanted to pass on swordsmanship to Blanc was greater.
It meant Blanc’s potential was genuine.
If a boy with genuine talent and a legendary swordsman met, how splendid a flower would they bloom?
Since Blanc was a Cadmus but practically a Tolome, laughter came out of Bartomyu naturally.
“If there is anything lacking regarding teaching Blanc, tell me. I will support you as much as you need.”
“The training ground Baron Blanc uses separately is a dirt floor…….”
“I will change it to marble!”
Bartomyu tried to make it a fait accompli in a hurry lest Edwin change his words, but there was no need to worry about that.
“No. I meant that I like it because it is a dirt floor. Count.”
Bartomyu could find a fierce smile from his now-aged knight after a long time.
“Wouldn’t a dirt floor be perfect for rolling?”
Edwin grinned and showed the back of his hand to Bartomyu.
On the back of Edwin’s hand, there was a small sword wound that looked like a thin line, not long since it was made.
***
Blanc lay collapsed like a corpse after the rough training with Edwin.
Someone was approaching him as he lay there.
“It was very hard today, right? I told Sir Edwin. To make it harder today.”
Iselin, sitting gently next to Blanc while hugging her skirt, was cracking sunflower seeds and throwing the shells at Blanc.
“I heard you went to see the statue of Wilhelm I with a maid named Emilia last time? Actually, that cafe was a place I wanted to go to as well, you know?”
“…….”
Iselin, seemingly annoyed by Blanc who was stuck to the ground without saying a word, was now throwing uncracked sunflower seeds.
“Are you listening to me? I said it’s a cafe I wanted to visit too!”
Of course, he wasn’t listening.
Instead of listening to Iselin’s whining, Blanc was recalling the spar with Edwin.
In his previous life, Gornas Balthazar, the Duke of the Anton Kingdom, had handed over the White Thunderbolt, saying it was the Aura cultivation method that fit best with Blanc.
-What do you mean it fits best?
-Fast and Speed.
-Are you saying I possess such traits?
He thought he had wielded rootless swordsmanship while living as a mercenary for nearly 20 years, but it seemed his characteristics seeped out even in the midst of that.
-Ideally, finding swordsmanship that pairs with this cultivation method would be best, but doing so won't be easy.
Since Gornas had to move busily to defeat the Void, he had neither the reason nor the time to teach swordsmanship to a mercenary who had already turned thirty.
Therefore, Gornas told Blanc.
-Do not forget. It is Fast and Speed.
Blanc intended to find swordsmanship that fit him even if he had to reject the experts Bartomyu invited several times.
But now there was no need for that.
Indeed, Sir Edwin deserved to be called the Knight of Swiftness.
Despite being 56 years old, his steps were still light, there was no hesitation in the sword he extended, and his movement dominating the space was incredibly natural due to accumulated internal energy.
Against Edwin, who was practically a huge mountain, he poured out all the miscellaneous tricks he had gained while living as a mercenary for 20 years in his past life.
He scattered dirt, threw stones, rolled on the ground to dodge without caring about face, and tried to bite Edwin’s neck with his teeth when his sword path was blocked.
Edwin was quite surprised by Blanc’s fierce and murderous appearance trying to injure the opponent somehow, but the part that surprised him the most was Blanc rushing in while scattering the White Thunderbolt.
Although it was haphazard and practically messy swordplay, Blanc rushed in aiming for a single point clearly.
Edwin felt as if a glittering white wolf was rushing at him from Blanc’s figure moving while scattering white Aura.
When such Blanc finally succeeded in making a small wound on Edwin’s back of hand after a desperate struggle, the aged Knight of Swiftness laughed for a long time looking at that wound.
While turning over Blanc, who had his head stuck in the dirt ground with all his energy exhausted, to lie down.
“Iselin.”
“Huh?”
Iselin, who kept whining beside him that he had to go to the cafe with her once too.
“I will absolutely not go to that cafe with you.”
“Why? Why! Why why!”
Hearing Blanc’s ultimatum, Iselin kicked the ground, huffing and puffing unable to hold back her anger.
“I’m going to tell Grandfather! And I will tell Sir Edwin! I will tell him to make the training harder than now! I will tell him to torment you more!”
She must have been really upset, as she got angry with tears welling up.
“Yeah, so.”
Blanc groaned, raising his heavy body.
He was covered in dirt, soaked in sweat, and his hair was messy, but Blanc standing up with the sunlight behind him gave off a feeling that overwhelmed even young Iselin.
“Go tell Sir Edwin to make the training harder.”
Blanc truly coveted the swordsmanship of the Knight of Swiftness.
His sword that fit perfectly with the White Thunderbolt.