The Academy’s Hard-Headed Swordmaster

House Meyer, Count.

Until the first head of the family, Bell Meyer established the house, House Meyer was nothing more than an ordinary family of swordsmen.

The Meyer family’s standing changed when Bell Meyer achieved the realm of Aura Master and Sword Saint.

Bell Meyer wasn’t particularly ambitious for power, and unusually for someone who had reached Master level, he swore loyalty to the Emperor.

The Emperor, delighted by this sudden pledge of allegiance, bestowed upon House Meyer the title of Count and the appellation, “Sword of the Empire’s Protection.”

“—And that’s the family history.”

“We learned this already.”

“Oh, is that so? You remember then.”

The tutor smiled faintly and pulled out the exam paper he’d just been looking at. I flinched at the sight of it and turned my head away.

“You got the first Head’s name wrong, the reason why he was granted the title wrong, what our family does wrong… Are you really sure you remember?”

“…Well, I do after I hear it, but before that, not really.”

“People call that not remembering. Let’s study again, Young Master.”

“Ugh—”

At my grimace, the tutor shook his head disapprovingly.

“You are the eldest son of House Meyer. You have a duty to lead the family.”

“Father doesn’t do any of that. The retainers do all the work.”

“Not doing something and being unable to do something are two entirely different things. The Count is busy with duties only he can perform, so the retainers handle trivial tasks like paperwork.”

Realizing I couldn’t out-argue my tutor, I stuck my tongue out and obediently focused on the assignment he gave me.

Reading, writing, and arithmetic were easy enough.

As expected of a game world, this other world also used Hangul and Arabic numerals.

However, once we got into serious studying, I couldn’t help but rack my brains.

I specialized in arts and physical education; I’d given up on studying back in middle school.

The tutor sighed as he looked down at me groaning, trying to avoid studying.

“…Young Master, if you dislike studying this much, you won’t become a great person.”

“Didn’t the first Head become a Count because he was good with a sword, not books? Then wouldn’t studying prevent me from becoming a great person?”

Desperate to avoid studying, I used my last resort: invoking the first Head’s example, a classic child’s illogical, forced argument.

However, as if he’d experienced this countless times, the tutor pushed his glasses up his nose and replied,

“The first Head reached the level of Sword Saint. Sword Saints don’t need to study.”

“That’s not fair…”

“If you have a complaint, then you should also become a Sword Saint.”

Burning with indignation at the tutor’s words, I set the goal of becoming a Sword Saint.

Having finally finished my homework, I was about to run to the training grounds when the tutor grabbed my arm.

“Now what…?”

“Where are you going?”

“To train. I finished my homework.”

“Young Master, have you perhaps forgotten what day it is today?”

“What… day is it?”

He looked down at me with a bewildered expression, as if genuinely surprised. Sighing inwardly, the tutor reminded me what day it was.

“Your fiancée is arriving today.”

* * *

A procession of a dozen carriages entered the territory.

Each carriage bore the same flag, the symbol of the House Grace, the Duke of the Northern Duchy.

There were no brave monsters or bandits foolish enough to block the Duke’s procession, and they arrived safely at Count Meyer’s territory.

Count Carl, waiting at the entrance of the mansion for the Duke’s arrival, patted his son’s shoulder as he saw the carriages approaching in the distance.

“Kyle, they’re here.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You don’t need to be so nervous. Don’t worry.”

“Understood.”

Kyle said so, turning his gaze towards the carriages. To be honest, he wasn’t nervous at all.

The fact that she was a Duke’s daughter and his fiancée didn’t really sink in.

A short while later, the carriages entered the mansion grounds. The coachman stopped the lead carriage at the appropriate spot, jumped down from his seat, and opened the door.

“We have arrived.”

“Hmm.”

A large, silver-haired man with a stern voice disembarked from the carriage. Kyle, observing the man, realized he had a well-trained physique.

He had a naturally imposing figure, but it was a body that couldn’t be achieved just by sitting around eating and fighting. It was a body sculpted through considerable effort.

‘Impressive…’

As Kyle gaped at the man, a small girl followed him out of the carriage.

She was a beautiful girl with the same silver hair and blue eyes as the man, and a seemingly emotionless expression.

Confirming that his daughter had disembarked, the Duke immediately extended his hand to the Count for a handshake.

“It’s been a while, Count.”

“It has been a while, Your Grace.”

“We’re about to become in-laws. You don’t need to be so formal.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Seeing his father lower his head, Kyle realized that this man wasn’t just a high-ranking nobleman.

Count Carl was the head of House Meyer, the Sword of the Empire’s Protection, and an expert who had reached the Expert level.

He wasn’t someone who could be intimidated by rank alone. Which meant…

‘This man is strong.’

The Duke before him wasn’t just a Duke; he was a stronger warrior than even Count Carl. Kyle looked at the Duke with interest.

As if sensing his gaze, the Duke’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked down at Kyle.

The moment their eyes met, Kyle flinched, feeling as if every cell in his body was being scrutinized.

The Duke, observing Kyle’s reaction, turned to Count Carl.

“This is your son?”

“Yes, my only son.”

“You’ve raised a fine son.”

The Duke said so and began to stroke Kyle’s hair.

Kyle felt his hair being ruffled and sensed the flow of powerful energy within the Duke.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Walter Grace.

The head of House Grace, and a Master-level magician who had completed the Six-Star.

His future father-in-law.

* * *

Clink, clink—.

The sound of forks and knives scraping against plates filled the dining room. An agonizing silence reigned.

The Duke cut a piece of food, put it in his mouth, and let out a sigh of appreciation.

“You have a good cook, Count.”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”

“We don’t have such talent in the North. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped, given the lack of ingredients.”

The Duke said so, wiping his mouth, and then proceeded to enjoy his meal.

And his daughter, sitting next to him, although she didn’t show it outwardly, also seemed pleased as she ate.

Before long, the Duke and his daughter had emptied their plates.

Wiping their mouths with napkins, they looked alternately at Kyle and the Count.

“Now that I think about it, we haven’t had proper introductions.”

Walter said, looking at his daughter. Sensing his gaze, the silver-haired girl swallowed what she was chewing and spoke.

“…Yuri Grace.”

“—Kyle Meyer.”

Kyle introduced himself with a bright smile.

However, Yuri simply stared at him with an emotionless, doll-like expression.

Wondering if she lacked emotions, Kyle let out an awkward chuckle and glanced at the Duke.

The Duke, just as cold as Yuri, was discussing something with the Count.

“About that battle…”

“Ah, you’re referring to that. Back then, it was truly…”

The meal was over, and the conversation between the two heads of families was boring.

Kyle decided to use a tactic only a child could get away with to escape the situation.

Clearing his throat to attract attention, Kyle addressed the Duke.

“Duke Grace. May I have some time alone with her?”

“—Ah, I apologize. Yes, it wouldn’t be bad for the two of you to spend some time together.”

The Duke nodded in agreement, allowing them to leave.

The Count assigned a maid to accompany them and then remained for a private conversation with the Duke.

Once the Count and Duke were alone, the amiable atmosphere vanished, replaced by a cold tension.

“Your son is quite bold.”

“He’s also quite talented.”

“He has the makings of a good knight. As for a head of family, I’m not so sure.”

Sipping his tea, the Duke looked at the Count, who showed no reaction to his words.

His eyes held a certain expectation for his son, seeming to think that the role of head of family could be handled even if he was lacking in some areas.

Whether this was the confidence of a naive parent or the genuine belief of one who had a true genius for a child, remained to be seen.

‘I hope it’s the latter… but as a Duke, I can’t allow that.’

Walter Grace, the Duke of the North, wanted his daughter to live somewhere other than the harsh North.

For that, he needed connections in the central region.

He needed a family that was moderately favored by the Imperial family, lacked ambition for power, and wouldn’t be significantly inferior if joined with the Duke’s house.

House Meyer fit those conditions surprisingly well.

If things went well, he could even reach the Imperial Capital through House Meyer.

And—to control House Meyer, it would be better if the next head of the family was slightly… inadequate.

Hiding his true intentions, the Duke looked at the Count.

“I hope the children get along.”

“Don’t worry about that. Kyle is a very considerate child.”

The Count chuckled, confident that his son would charm the Duke’s daughter.

* * *

The mansion had several playrooms specifically for children.

Places I had never used before.

The maid who escorted us to the playroom excused herself to prepare refreshments, seemingly unaware of what might transpire when two children were left alone.

Alone with Yuri, I looked at her and asked,

“Hey, are your mom’s breasts big?”

“…They are.”

“Good. Let’s be friends.”

“…?”

Looking at Yuri tilting her head in confusion, I lightly shook her hand.

So, they are big, huh?

You pass the test as a potential bride candidate.