Chapter 185: The Letter Was Selvara’s
Inside the room, Damian continued reading the love letter with growing interest.
His eyes moved down the old paper, and the corners of his mouth kept twitching.
"To walk beside your sword is my greatest dream. To see your blade cut through the night is my greatest blessing. If fate allows, I wish to stand beneath the same moon and watch your sword light until my final breath."
Damian slowly lowered the letter.
For several breaths, he said nothing.
A moment later, he sucked in a breath and muttered, "Damn."
His expression became strange.
"As expected, the woman who wrote this letter was completely gone. Absolutely lovestruck. No, this is worse than lovestruck. This is sword-romance poisoning."
He looked at the letter again and clicked his tongue. "Still... she really can write a beautiful love letter."
Damian rubbed his chin seriously, as if he had just discovered some ancient art.
"This is emotional, elegant, and stupidly sincere. Whoever this cold sword woman was, she might have been boring outside, but her heart was definitely burning like hell inside."
Outside the door, Selvara stood completely still.
Her expression had changed.
The anger from earlier was still there, but it had been covered by shock, confusion, and something far more embarrassing.
Those words...
That style...
That ridiculous, overly sincere tone...
A long-forgotten memory suddenly crashed into her mind.
A young girl sitting alone under the moonlight, writing a love letter with a sword placed beside her.
A young girl who admired one wandering swordsman too much to say his name out loud.
Selvara’s pupils trembled slightly.
"This letter..."
Her fingers clenched.
"No way."
Inside the room, Damian flipped the letter slightly and continued mumbling to himself.
"Now I’m really curious who wrote this. A cold, proud, talented sword maniac from long ago..."
Selvara’s face darkened instantly.
She no longer hesitated.
BANG!
The door burst open.
Damian almost jumped out of his chair. "What the hell?!"
He turned toward the door and saw Selvara standing there with a terrifyingly cold face.
The letter was still in his hand.
His eyes moved from Selvara’s angry expression to the old envelope, then back to her face.
Cold sweat instantly covered his back. "Master?"
Selvara’s voice was dangerously calm. "Where the hell did you get that letter?"
Damian frowned, not understanding why she was so angry. "From the library."
Selvara’s eyes sharpened. "The library?"
Damian nodded quickly. "Yes. Senior Sister Mirabel gave it to me. She said it was an old love letter from a cold sword maniac girl in the sect."
Selvara’s expression froze for half a breath. "Mirabel..."
Her voice became even colder.
Damian stared at her face, then slowly looked down at the letter again.
Only then did he remember what Mirabel had said.
A cold sword woman from long ago.
A sword maniac.
His brain finally started connecting the damn dots. "Wait a minute..."
Damian’s face turned pale. "Don’t tell me..."
Selvara stared at him silently.
That silence was worse than shouting.
Damian’s hand holding the letter slowly lowered.
His eyes moved across the paper again, then returned to Selvara’s face.
The way her expression looked like she wanted to erase the entire room from existence.
Damian swallowed hard.
"Oh shit."
---
Damian immediately raised both hands. "Master, wait. I can explain."
Selvara’s eyes stayed fixed on the letter. "Explain."
Damian’s throat moved slightly.
His brain worked faster than ever.
A normal person would apologize, hand over the letter, and pretend nothing happened.
Damian, unfortunately, was not a normal person.
He carefully lifted the paper and said with a serious face, "First of all, Master, I need to say this honestly. The letter is very well written."
Selvara’s expression froze.
Damian quickly continued, "No, really. The emotion is sincere, the imagery is beautiful, and the sword metaphors are very powerful. If I didn’t know better, I would think this was written by some hidden poetry genius."
The room became colder.
Damian felt his skin sting.
"Damn. Wrong direction. Why did I praise it more?"
Selvara slowly stepped forward. "You think this is funny?"
Damian shook his head hard. "Not funny. Artistic. Very artistic."
Her eyes sharpened.
Damian’s mouth twitched. "I mean... shameful? No, wait, not shameful. Youthful. Very youthful."
Selvara’s face became even darker.
For her, this was not some cute memory.
It was a shameful past she had buried for years.
A stupid, embarrassing moment from when she was young, emotional, and foolish enough to pour her heart onto paper for a wandering swordsman who probably never even knew she existed.
She had thought that letter was gone.
Long forgotten.
Buried with all the other foolish things from her younger years.
Yet now...
Her shameless disciple had read it out loud like some damn entertainment script.
Selvara extended her hand. "Give it to me."
Damian did not dare hesitate this time.
He placed the letter into her hand with both hands, as respectfully as if he were offering a sacred relic.
Selvara looked down at the old paper.
For a brief moment, her gaze trembled.
A second later, sword Qi flickered between her fingers.
SHING!
In the blink of an eye, the entire love letter was cut into thousands of tiny pieces, fluttering through the room like pale snow.
Damian stared at the falling scraps with a pained expression. "My ancient gossip treasure..."
Selvara slowly lifted her eyes back to him.
Damian instantly straightened.
"Until the Sword Tomb arrives," Selvara said coldly, "you won’t go anywhere."
Damian’s face stiffened. "Master?"
Her voice became even heavier. "I will train you personally until you reach Golden Core."
Damian’s expression cracked.
Golden Core training under Selvara did not sound like guidance.
It sounded like hell torture wearing the mask of education.
He silently cursed Mirabel in his heart.
"Damn that Mirabel. She really sold me a disaster."
For a moment, he wanted to hate her.
Unfortunately, the memory of Mirabel’s lazy eyes, calm smile, and beautiful face appeared in his mind.
Damian’s mouth twitched.
"Damn it. I can’t even hate her properly."
Selvara’s gaze turned toward the direction of the Scripture Pavilion.
Her eyes became frighteningly cold. "Mirabel... so it was you. To think you actually kept this all these years."
Her fingers slowly tightened. "I need to confront her."
Damian immediately felt a bad feeling. "Master, maybe we should calm down first?"
Selvara looked at him.
Damian closed his mouth at once.
That was not the face of someone willing to calm down.
Selvara’s voice was cold and quiet. "I cannot let her expose more of my shameful past."
Damian blinked.
More?
His eyes slowly brightened.
Unfortunately, Selvara noticed it immediately.
The room became silent.
Damian’s body stiffened.
Selvara stared at him. "What are you thinking?"
Damian shook his head with righteous speed. "Nothing."