The Academy’s Hard-Headed Swordmaster

Reaching the Expert level at fifteen was an achievement worthy of being called a genius, at least by others.

In fact, out of the dozens of knights in House Meyer, fewer than ten, including my father, had reached the Expert level.

To call reaching Expert level at a mere fifteen insufficient would be considered not just complacent, but arrogant.

‘Insufficient.’

But it truly was insufficient. I knew the future of this world.

A future where every Tom, Dick, and Harry would emerge claiming to be a Master, and where countless such Master-level individuals would perish.

Power Inflation, a consequence of this being a game.

To counter this, I had no choice but to reach at least the Master level myself.

‘But how?’

Every day, I endured bone-breaking training, muscle-tearing sparring, and soul-crushing drills.

Years of honed skills and physical conditioning had brought me to a point where further strengthening seemed impossible.

“Look at that body. Makes me swoon.”

This body, tempered over nearly a decade, had become a perfectly sculpted, enviable physique.

Not just a mass of bulging white muscle, but a perfect combination of fast-twitch and slow-twitch fibers.

Like the muscles of a Greek statue, a perfect inverted triangle that drew spontaneous gasps of admiration.

“My weights aren’t increasing anymore. Swordsmanship is stagnating… There’s no solution.”

Yet, I was already feeling my limits.

My body and my skills couldn’t be honed any further.

Of course, consistent effort always brought rewards.

If I continued with muscle training and swordsmanship practice, I would eventually reach the Master level.

But when?

At thirty? Forty? Or perhaps as a decrepit old man on the brink of death?

‘That’s too late.’

I wasn’t hoping for some magical method to instantly become stronger.

However, I needed a method that would show tangible growth, at least within a few years.

I looked down at my sword. A real sword, gifted to me upon reaching the Expert level.

Unworthy of the name “sword,” this blade had never tasted a single drop of blood.

“…That won’t do.”

A swordsman, by definition, is one who cuts things down.

I realized what I lacked.

And immediately, I sought out the Count.

* * *

“—You want to experience real combat.”

“Yes, Father.”

At my words, the Count fell into silent contemplation.

My age was a factor against simply refusing, but my skill made a flat-out denial difficult.

Trusting my skill and recklessly assigning me to a task was countered by my lack of experience.

However, wasn’t there a common saying among modern people? ‘If everyone only looks for experienced workers, where are newcomers supposed to gain experience?’

After much deliberation, the Count granted my request for real combat, with conditions.

“…Take Sir Leon and Sir Moire with you. With three Expert-level knights, you should be able to handle anything that arises.”

“Both of them? What about the territory?”

“There’s nothing pressing at the moment. Well, there is one thing… but my son has volunteered to take care of it.”

At the Count’s reply, delivered with a sly grin, I bowed and left the room.

Permission granted.

Patrol outside the territory.

Searching for and eliminating any potential bandits or monsters.

The real combat I had so desperately desired.

‘My heart’s already pounding.’

Clutching my pounding chest, I ran to the training ground.

Sir Leon was there, training the soldiers.

Since it was still my personal training time, Sir Leon tilted his head in confusion at my sudden appearance.

After hearing my story, he exclaimed in a shocked voice,

“His Lordship assigned you to patrol duty?”

“Yes. He said to go with Sir Leon and Sir Moire.”

“But, both me and Sir Moire…?”

Sir Leon finally seemed to understand the Count’s reasoning and nodded at me.

“Well, Young Master can’t just swing his sword within the territory forever. Real combat experience is just as important as training.”

“Right. I’m looking forward to it.”

“—Understood. I’ll inform Sir Moire. Young Master… prepare yourself for tomorrow’s patrol, mentally at least.”

“Mentally prepare?”

Tilting my head at his words, Sir Leon let out a chuckle.

“Yes, mentally prepare.”

“It’s just a patrol, isn’t it? What’s the big deal?”

“Heheh, you’ll see.”

His cryptic laughter filled me with an inexplicable sense of unease.

The next day, I would discover exactly what that unease meant.

* * *

“Move it, move it!”

At the Senior Knight’s command, the Apprentice Knights frantically loaded supplies onto the carriages.

Some grumbled about having to do such menial tasks as knights, but what could they do? Orders were orders.

After loading the carriages with all sorts of supplies, the knights mounted their horses and finished preparations for departure.

The Count stood before the assembled knights and conducted the departure ceremony.

“So that the people of the territory may not suffer from evil and demonic forces—go forth and cleanse the land.”

““Yes, sir-!””

The collective shout of the knights caused the ground to tremble momentarily.

Sir Leon, at the head of the column, then led the knights out of the territory.

I adjusted my reins and fell in behind Sir Leon.

The saddle, unused except during riding practice, pressed firmly against my backside.

“Young Master, how are your… uh… buttocks?”

“—Sir Moire.”

“Ahaha! Perhaps you should turn back now. The territory is still within sight, you know?”

Sir Moire urged me to return.

However, this was the real combat I had asked for.

Turning back because of nerves or fear was something only a coward would do.

The family heir couldn’t be a coward.

I told him I was fine, even if it was just out of stubbornness. Sir Moire, seemingly understanding, closed his mouth.

I knew he was testing me, but I didn’t particularly mind.

Disregarding experienced knights in my first real combat experience just because of my higher status would be suicidal.

‘How long will this take?’

This procession of three carriages, thirteen knights, and fifty cavalrymen soon left the territory and headed towards a village within its borders.

Upon reaching a village, we would stop briefly to rest the horses and, after confirming there were no immediate problems, move on to the next village.

This continued until sunset.

“Halt-!”

Just as my Aura-reinforced backside was starting to feel like it was on fire, Sir Leon, leading the way, shouted.

Immediately, the knights and soldiers stopped their horses and began setting up tents.

Watching the Apprentice Knights erect their tents with remarkable speed, I entered one of them.

Despite this being a world with magic, the tents were practically rags compared to the state-of-the-art tents produced by modern industry.

Still, they were better than the old-style tents used in the military.

As I stood blankly inside the tent, Sir Moire approached and asked, perhaps sensing my thoughts,

“Are you disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“It’s quite different from the real combat you were expecting, isn’t it, Young Master? With any luck, we’ll return without a single fight. But until then, we’ll have to rough it in these uncomfortable tents.”

At Sir Moire’s words, I cautiously nodded.

He told me to prepare myself mentally—and this was it?

From Leon’s perspective, I, someone who rarely left the territory and had never experienced camping, must have been a source of worry.

‘But little does he know, I’m built for the military.’

What Leon didn’t know was that I was highly adaptable, having adjusted well even to military life.

I took palm-sized bugs in stride and ate years-expired combat rations with gusto. Sleeping in tents was no problem at all.

“It’s fine. This is nothing.”

In the military, three of us crammed into tents half this size.

Now, as the family heir, I was afforded this large tent all to myself.

The Apprentice Knights even took care of setting up and taking down the tents, so there was really nothing to complain about.

“Is that so? I’m glad to hear it.”

“Will we be patrolling tomorrow as well?”

“Yes, well, it’s actually best if there are no fights. It would be troublesome if someone were to get injured, you see.”

Sir Moire revealed his true feelings. I understood.

If the inexperienced family heir froze up or got hurt in real combat, both of them would face the consequences. It was better to avoid fighting altogether.

However, I didn’t share his sentiment. This world was a game world.

Staying put meant falling behind. Falling behind meant death.

“Since there are no issues today… please rest well.”

Sir Moire said with a grin. A grin that suggested the night would be anything but restful.

I smiled back and lay down on the bed inside the tent. It was a little hard, but—

‘This is heaven.’

As soon as I closed my eyes, sleep washed over me. The fact that I wouldn’t be woken up for guard duty also contributed greatly to a sound sleep.

In the end, the outdoor sleeping arrangements, which the knights had claimed would be uncomfortable, turned out to be not so bad.

* * *

Early in the morning, I was awakened by the rustling sounds of the Apprentice Knights dismantling the tents.

I excused myself to relieve myself.

Finding a spot suitably hidden from the knights’ view, I pulled down my pants and began to urinate.

That’s when I realized the tree in front of me was moving.

“…Huh?”

“—Snort.”

Glancing up, I saw a hulking green-skinned figure looking down at me.

An Orc.

“Oh.”

Tinkle—.

My urine trickled down the Orc’s foot.