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

<Episode 38> 

“…….” 

“Did he use a familiar type of swordsmanship? Or was his technique unfamiliar even to you, who’s dealt with quite a few swordsmen?” 

Usually, Jean would obey the swordmaster’s demands and orders without hesitation. However, today, Jean looked at him a little differently.  

This was because Viscount Weatherwoods’ request had come to her mind. 

“Miss Jean, I have a request, not a condition for you. I only want you, miss Jean, to know how I move in a fight.” 

Did he foresee this moment? 

The more she thought about it, the more unusual he was. Jean bowed her head to the duke. 

“Your excellency, I will admit my defeat in the duel. Therefore, I seek to relinquish my right to succeed the Berkeley Grattens. Thanks for teaching me, your lacking disciple, so many things…”  

“Jean.” 

It was a low call. Jean could not raise her head after reading the latent coolness in it. 

“It is me who decides that. I will decide whether to kick you out or not after I hear your answer to my question.”  

“The opponent didn’t even draw his sword against me. There was no way of knowing what kind of swordsmanship he used.” 

 “Are you saying you don’t know what kind of swordsmanship style he uses just because he didn’t draw his sword? Are you serious?” 

Jean closed her mouth. 

A light sneer formed on the duke’s face seeing Jean like that. 

Swordsmanship did not simply mean the methodology of wielding a sword. 

Narrowly, it included whether the swordsman was used to a light sword or a heavy one, and broadly, down to which craftsman made the sword. 

‘But you’ve come up with a stupid answer like ‘I don’t know.’ Sigh.’  

Jean was not the type to shy away from answering a question.  

She was the most obedient out of all of his successors. 

In addition, he was not interested in anything other than swords, so it was beneficial to appoint her as the on paper-owner of the guild ‘Clone’ which he’d been operating since the end of the war.  

She was the second most useful disciple after Gavroche for the duke, who couldn’t hold a private office under him due to a treaty with the Imperial family. 

Therefore, if possible, the duke wanted to keep Jean around even after he handed over the duchy to Gavroche. 

The reason why Jean was avoiding his question was clear. 

‘The viscount must’ve made her agree to a condition during the duel.’ 

In other words, Viscount Weatherwoods had something to hide. 

Perhaps he’d check in the sword itself held by the viscount. 

The swordmaster seized his sword.  

– Be obedient. 

He could hear a familiar resonance. 

A swordsman’s grip on a sword leaves behind a mark.  

Even if the person who holds is not the owner of the sword, traces remain, and by looking into the traces, you could find a little about the inside of the person. 

Therefore, after the swordmaster began to hear the resonance of a sword, he did not lend his sword to anyone. 

No matter how soon it disappeared, he didn’t want the inner feelings of others to remain on his sword. The reason he gave his sword to Viscount Weatherwoods was exactly to see that, because he was a little curious. However, there was no trace of Viscount Weatherwood on his sword. It was only natural, since Jean said he didn’t even draw the sword. 

– Be obedient. 

‘…….’ 

Viscount Weatherwoods was a new powerhouse that had never appeared before. 

Maybe he should change his methods a little. 

‘Is it not the Weatherwoods mansion, but Viscount Weatherwoods himself that I should look into?’  

He’d been keeping an eye on the Weatherwoods family for the past two years.  

There was only one reason for that. 

Rumour had it that the personal property of the former Viscountess Weatherwoods included Dian Cecht’s relics. He’d done it all to ascertain the credibility of the rumours. He spent countless assassins to see if the mansion and family was under some sort of great spell, but they never got the information about Dian Cecht’s relics that he wanted. 

But at some point, the assassins he sent to the Weatherwoods began to not return. Sensing that something was up, he decided to annihilate the Weatherwoods family without delay.  

If Viscount Weatherwood had not declared that he would attend the noble council this year, it would have been like that. 

So the swordmaster thought to kill the Viscount on the Black Ragel and make it look like an accident. In these times, drunk passengers often fell from airships. 

But in the end, he couldn’t do it. 

“Gray Weatherwoods.” 

Why was it? 

For some reason, the swordmaster felt an unfamiliar familiarity with him. 

Unfamiliar familiarity. It was extremely paradoxical, but he couldn’t think of any other expressions other than these words. 

He was unfamiliar, but familiar. In particular, the familiarity that he felt from him somehow made his chest stuffy and made him to want to look more into it. 

That was why he accepted Jean’s request to ‘have a duel with Viscount Weatherwoods.’ 

As Jean claimed, he would probably get a hint if Viscount Weatherwoods was a swordsman who was hiding his skill. In the end, the swordmaster did not end up getting the outcome he wanted, but something was now clear. 

‘There’s something about that man that I haven’t figured out.’ 

It had been four years since he began his search all throughout the continent to find Dian Cecht’s relics. He didn’t mean to waste any more time here. Dian Cecht’s relics, hidden by the Weatherwoods family, had to be his. 

“Jean.” 

“…yes.”  

“I won’t stop you if you really wish to leave the Berkeley Gratten family.” 

Jean raised her head with surprised eyes. 

The duke wasn’t a fool to the point he couldn’t read what was going on in his innocent disciple’s mind. A young swordsman who came under him only to learn the sword. For such a demon of the sword to show such interest in a man she’d never seen before. 

‘It is obvious that Gavroche will succeed me, so she intends to leave the family and go to the Weatherwoods.’  

This presented an opportunity to the swordmaster. 

“I know you have your own reasons for it too.” 

“I’m sorry.”  

“But there are conditions.” 

Jean’s expression hardened subtly. 

The swordmaster stole a glance outside the cabin’s window before moving his lips to lay out his conditions. 

The Iregiel Villa, visible in the moonlight. Underneath, he could see dozens of heads lining up and walking in a rhythm. 

The swordmaster leaned back into his chair and let out a slow sigh. 

It was going to be a long night. 

* * * 

The white moon was hiding behind the clouds. 

As soon as I stepped into my new bedroom, I made my way to fall on the huge bed occupying one side of the wall. 

‘Oh, this is it. This is the bed.’ 

The bed in the cabin was good, but it was incomparable to a bed in a villa for nobles. 

Here at the eastern lake Iregiel, was the Iregiel villa, built solely for the aristocrats 100 hundred years ago. 

Perhaps it was because it was for the aristocrats, who had a hobby of showing off, the mansion, which was not for residential purposes, was very colorful and large. I wouldn’t be able to buy a room here even if I saved up my salary as a maid for the rest of my life. 

This was how it ended up.  

Overshadowing the search for the assassins, we came and settled in the Iregiel villa. 

In fact, there were no other options. 

“…Are we really going to the villa?” 

“Then? Should I just hand this over to the flight attendant?” 

Rue, who’d returned to Morian’s form, pointed at the fallen assassin with his chin. 

I couldn’t readily answer to that. No, I never asked him to do that.  

Handing this assassin over to the aristocracy would only complicate matters. 

Only the worst results could be derived in all aspects, such as how the assassin was found, how we’d received a confession from her, where Rue appeared from, and the use of taboo magic. 

“Answer me. How will the attack or terrorism be carried out?”  

“Woo…ugh…”  

I probed the assassin more, but it seemed that she didn’t know exactly how the other assassins hidden at Iregiel were going to carry out their plan. 

Tired of watching this, Rue poured a bottle of alcohol in the assassin’s mouth and roughly threw her into the aisle in front of our room.  

It seemed that he intended to cover this up as a drunken rampage.  

He grabbed me by the arm and led me naturally toward the villa. 

“What are you so worried about, darling? The aristocracy includes the duke. He’ll take care of the trash at the villa. That’s what a swordmaster is for, anyway.”  

“But what’s the point if they’ve planted bombs or something in advance?”  

“This place won’t fly away with bombs. It’s a villa for noble aristocrats. There’s no way the aristocracy didn’t prepare for an attack. That’s why they needed more than a dozen people.” 

That’s true. 

“Who would do this?”  

A person who would plan something so grandeur against no one other than the aristocracy. Who was there? 

Were they an Imperialist too? Or an international terrorist? 

“…….” 

I had no idea. I couldn’t even make a guess because I didn’t know how Imperial politics worked. 

After laying on the bed for a long time, I jumped out of my position. 

Whatever the case, it was uncomfortable to pretend not to know about an upcoming terrorist attack. 

‘I’ll take a look at this villa, then.’ 

Rue’s voice caught me by the ankle as I was heading to the door. 

“Take a rest for now.” 

It was a firm order that left no room for objections. 

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