The Peaceful Life of a Maid Who Hides Her Power and Enjoys It

<Episode 126>

 

“But it has nothing to do with the Viscount…”

“Do you truly think it doesn’t?”

“Well, of course, ‘report to me when you’re completely settled in your new life’ is no great oath by itself.”

 

I couldn’t believe that was the oath made between the two. As the swordmaster said, it was no great oath.

 

“Well done, Jean. Your innocence has led Viscount Weatherwoods before me.”

Viscount Weatherwoods?

 

‘Was the goal to call me out?’

 

A cold sneer hung on the swordmaster’s mouth.

“A woman who one can never be sure of if she’s Gray Weatherwoods, A Maid, or Andert Fager’s sister.”

 

Jean swallowed dryly and stared at the swordmaster.

 

“…What do you plan to do with the Viscount, sir?”

“Nothing you should know. The oath has been fulfilled, and your usefulness ends here. This conversation will be between me and the Viscount, so go back.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Jean.”

 

A stern voice warned Jean.

“Don’t make me take the life of my former disciple with my own hands.”

 

Jean tightly gripped her sword.

Biting her lips hard enough to bleed, she whispered to me, firmly blocking me from the swordmaster.

 

“…My lord, please run away.”

 

– Come on! I’ll end anyone who comes in my way, kek-kek. I won’t lose!

 

Then the clear resonance of Jean’s sword rang in my ears.

 

“It seems he is targeting you, Viscount. And Duke Jurian never lets go of someone he has set his mind to eliminate.”

 

I knew that better than anyone.

The swordmaster wanted to kill me. 

The fact that he was baring his fangs out for me to see was proof enough.

 

‘….It’s too entangled of a relationship for me to even have to question why.’

He was looking for Dian Cecht’s relics.

Continuously sending assassins to the Weatherwods family, infiltrating the royal vault to aggressively steal something…

Moreover…

 

‘The Berkeley-Gratten family is known as the Emperor’s sword. Would the Swordmaster truly not know of the resurrection experiments led by the Imperial family under <Berithlet>?’

 

It was highly likely his actions were somehow related to the Imperial family.

‘It must be connected to Natasha.’

 

The swordmaster, in some ways- no, in almost all ways, was a more difficult presence than Raphael. But I was not in a situation where I could just back down.

 

So, I would confront him.

 

“Jean. I’ll ask about today’s events later, so stay behind me…”

 

However, Jean’s sudden acceleration towards him was much faster than my attempt to pull her back.

 

“Wait, Jean!”

 

This belligerent swordsman!

 

Sword energy enveloped Jean’s white blade. The swordmaster did not shy away from her bold challenge. The way he skillfully parried her attacks and occasionally touched on her openings made it seem like a duel.

 

“This is silly, Jean. Have you forgotten that I am your teacher and benefactor?”

Unlike Jean, who seemed to be more flustered, the swordmaster attacked slowly but surely with relaxed movements.

 

What a foolish girl. What good was it to only learn how to swing a sword day and night? She couldn’t even use the swordsmanship she refined properly because of her impatience.

 

“It was you who tried to harm an innocent person using me!”

“Ridiculous. Look at you transferring the blame to me. Don’t forget that it was you, not me, who left for the Weatherwoods family in exchange for an oath.”

 

“You…!”

 

“I overestimated you. I shouldn’t have let you leave Berkeley-Gratten. You’ve changed for the worse, the only thing that has grown is your arrogance.”

 

Jean’s composure was visibly shaken.

 

-I’m coming! I’ll come and finish this. I will defeat you…

 

The increasing repentance growing even more chaotic proved that fact.

 

‘He’s not only grasping at her physical vulnerabilities, but her psychological ones too.’

However, the swordmaster’s jabs were just a means. I focused on his objective.

I may not know why he was trying to lure me out… but setting aside the reason, this could be considered a very swordmaster-like strategy.

 

The swordmaster was prepared to use any means necessary to achieve his goals.

However, not every aspect of it was characteristic of the swordmaster.

 

‘At least that’s what it looks like right now.’

 

He was provoking Jean more than necessary.

The swordmaster usually fundamentally respected his opponents. Such passive provocation…

 

“Look straight, Jean.”

 

At that moment, the swordmaster’s movements, who were constantly putting pressure on Jean, blurred.

 

“Your futile desire to pursue strength will lead the ones you’re trying to protect to death.”

 

An elegant strike.

It was the first thought I had when I saw the swordmaster’s sword falling towards me.

 

None of the swordsmen I knew possessed such clean and picturesque swordsmanship. So the strike that cut through the air to come towards me was also clean enough to evoke admiration.

 

“No! Miss Daisy, avoid it!”

 

However, I did have one question.

The swordmaster’s sword was flying towards me in a direction that would slightly miss my throat.

 

Was it a mistake?

‘No way.’

 

This was what the swordmaster intended.

Thanks to that, the growing doubt returned to its original state.

 

Why did the swordmaster keep provoking Jean? Why did the swordmaster deliver a strike that fell just short of finishing me off?

 

‘…No. Could that be what he wants…?’

 

Suddenly, a hypothesis flashed through my mind like a spark.

Could my prediction be correct? It was a gamble, but ultimately, I chose not to evade the sword.

 

The sword, falling like a guillotine, pierced into the right shoulder.

 

“Ugh.”

 

Not mine, but Jean’s shoulder.

Jean, staggering a few steps backward, grasped her injured shoulder.

 

“…swordmaster.”

Disappointment and remorse seeped through her rough voice.

 

“I thought you were someone who understood honor…!”

It was an emotionally charged outcry, but somehow it sent a chilling sensation down to the core of my bones.

 

This energy was stimulating my nerves.

I quickly checked Jean’s face. Hot tears were pouring from her blurred eyes.

 

She was beginning to completely assimilate.

‘Is it because she’s inexperienced? The transformation is happening too quickly!’

 

Without hesitation, I kicked Jean’s side.

 

“Snap out of it, Jean!”

 

I climbed onto her fallen body, holding down her flailing right leg and digging her sword into it.

 

“Take a deep breath and focus on this pain. Can you feel the wound on your right thigh?”

There was no more resonance coming from her sword.

 

Of course, it was expected. The resonance had already merged with Jean, manifesting in the form of a sword-demon that had lost its reason.

 

“Ugh, agh…”

 

“I’m not telling you to let go of the sword. Just accept it, Jean. There’s no need to discard it or try to dominate it.”

 

“…”

 

“You are a sword-demon. Do not forget that fact. I will watch your back, so focus on yourself.”

 

Control, in the end, came down to individual self-discipline.

 

Even if I were to use my own strength to suppress Jean and render her completely immobile, it would be pointless if Jean herself couldn’t break free from the fusion with the sword.

 

To put it in extreme terms, it meant that she could continue to struggle without rest and eventually starve to death.

 

That’s when it happened.

 

“…Jean?”

 

Jean’s movements abruptly stopped, like she was a broken doll. She collapsed as if dead and her eyes kept closed without any sign of movement.

 

I quickly brought my finger under her nose. Thankfully, she was still breathing.

 

“Leave her be.”

It was the voice of the sword-master.

 

“Whether Jean can overcome the wall or not is entirely up to her. All we can do is ensure the tranquility of her physical body. If she’s attacked in a state of selflessness, she could fall into a vegetative state.”

 

A state of selflessness.

In other words, the process of crossing the first wall. According to the swordmaster’s words, Jean was crossing the first wall.

 

‘…As I thought.’

 

The swordmaster deliberately pushed Jean to this point.

To face the first barrier in extreme circumstances.

 

“Was this your original purpose?”

There was a lingering sense of unease I had about just accepting that. No, what was unsettling was the mere presence of the Swordmaster itself.

 

“It’s not like it’s your first time seeing such a thing. You’re whining like an immature child.”

 

The swordmaster’s reprimanding wasn’t wrong.

 

This wasn’t the first time I faced a swordsman who’d fallen into the selflessness state. I had a similar experience in the past.

During the war, on the day that the swordmaster crossed the third wall.

 

‘He’s talking as if he knows my true identity.’

 

It was uncomfortable. It was all the more so because the opponent was the swordmaster.

Tearing apart my tattered cardigan, I tied Jean’s shoulder to apply pressure and replied.

 

“All that happened in front of me. What else am I to do?”

“Do you truly think I would harm Jean? That’s a dull judgment, unlike you.”

 

On the subject of me, the Swordmaster casually took a seat across from Jean’s unconscious body.

 

“Still, it’s commendable how quickly you grasped my intentions. There aren’t many swordsmen like you.”

 

Swordsmen like you.

He was using another familiar expression again. Daisy Weatherwoods, not Gray Weatherwoods, has never even held a sword in front of the swordmaster.

 

“What is your purpose?”

 

In response to that question, the swordmaster’s gaze seemed to wander into the distant past, becoming hazy.

 

“A purpose… There are always many of those. A person cannot live with just one purpose throughout their life, or so they say. But if you ask me about one of them.”

 

But that haziness soon disappeared.

A sharp, green, penetrating gaze, whose depth I couldn’t fathom, stared directly into my eyes.

 

“Reuniting with you was my first purpose, Sir Andert.”