The sword saint's jaw dropped in shock the moment he heard I was going to fight him barehanded.
What a waste of time. I made a taunting gesture to urge him on.
"Hurry up. I want you to go all out."
"Mr. Karen, you seem to underestimate me. How could you possibly beat a sword with your bare hands?"
He was furious, of course—because I was dismissing all his effort. And I was underestimating him; there was no way he could handle this. I continued to provoke him.
"Then let me show you that the sword isn't the strongest. If you want, you can draw your sword."
The sword saint hesitated for a moment, then drew his sword, eyes blazing with anger as he spoke:
"Mr. Karen, don't regret this."
I assumed my stance and said:
"Come."
My attack range was much smaller than his sword, so I had to get close. I ran toward him, baiting him into attacking me.
As soon as I approached, he swung his sword down at me. I dodged to his side during the swing, closed in, and delivered a punch to his ribs.
I have to admit, his body was well-trained—really solid. Then he attempted a horizontal slash. I blocked his hand with both hands, and quickly punch at his side again before jumping back to maintain distance.
Now it was his turn to attack. Honestly, once I controlled his hands, the sword became useless. At the instant he swung, I grabbed his hand, turned my back to him, lifted him onto my shoulder, and executed a back throw.
"Gah…!"
After throwing him to the ground, I twisted his wrist to make him drop the sword, then let go. Hands on my hips, I caught my breath. Swords are definitely intimidating—but thankfully, he wasn't as strong as I expected.
The sword saint stood up on the soft grass, probably feeling the pain on his back. I addressed him calmly:
"Duke Somart, now you understand, right? The sword isn't the strongest—it's just a tool of attack. You've been on battlefields, so you should know that all means are fair to win a war. So why put yourself in restrictions?"
"I…put myself in restrictions?"
He repeated my words in surprise, and I continued:
"You believe the sword is the strongest, so you train only your swordsmanship. But I see it as just one method of attack—because no weapon is omnipotent. Duke Somart, can you use magic?"
"No."
In a world where magic is so convenient, not learning it is inexcusable. We have no mana limits, magic can be used infinitely, and only our mouths get tired. So why wouldn't learn? He's far too obsessed with the sword.
"See? That's where you've restricted yourself. If you face ranged attacks, can you respond? No. Because you only know melee combat with your sword. Meanwhile, the enemy can drain your stamina until you can't even lift your weapon."
The more I spoke, the more fired up I became—opportunities to speak so frankly to a noble weren't something everyone got. Normally, doing so could easily cost you your head.
"…"
The sword saint didn't say a word, but I kept talking. The words were already on my tongue, and I didn't want to stop. If I did, I'd feel restless, unable to eat or sleep properly.
"Duke Somart, if I may speak frankly, being a Sword Saint is just an honor—it doesn't mean you excel in everything else. I think you should train in the dungeon to learn how to win battles, not just to refine your swordsmanship. If you had told me you'd already challenged a dungeon, I'd have nothing to say. But you haven't, so I believe there's still room for improvement."
"Really?"
Hearing that there was room to improve, the sword saint responded. But it wasn't swordsmanship that needed improvement—his sword skill was probably at its peak… I'm not entirely sure.
"But it's progress outside of swordsmanship. In battles without limits, you shouldn't be obsessed with the sword. Your body is also a weapon. The most important thing is to win, and there's no shame in using any means to do so."
Battles where you limit yourself should only happen under restricted conditions. There's no need to restrict yourself in every fight—that only puts you in danger and wastes time and energy.
I demonstrated a few kicks for him, three quick upward strikes. Why did I show him kicks? Because, well… it looked cool.
"…"
The sword saint went silent again, probably in disagreement. Since he didn't accept it, there was nothing I could do.
"If you don't agree, just pretend I'm talking to myself. This is my philosophy—you don't have to follow it."
After I spoke, he slumped onto the grass, looking troubled. He should have returned to his normal state after my long lecture, so why was he sitting there? Then he crossed his arms, clearly mulling over something. I decided to ignore him and turned toward the barbecue pavilion.
Then the sword saint's voice called out:
"I got it, Mr. Karen. What you said makes perfect sense. No wonder you are the hero who hunted down Samidoride! I will go challenge the dungeon immediately!"
I turned back, and he had already stood up, picked up his sword from the ground, and was marching off with a determined expression. I panicked and grabbed his hand to stop him.
"Stop! Stop! I didn't say go immediately! You still have work to do!"
Hearing me, he paused, remembering his duty.
"Right, I'm still guarding His Majesty."
"Duke Somart, have some water and calm down."
I shook my head in exasperation. Just like the first time we sparred, he completely forgot his responsibilities.
Even though he listened, I was glad. I remembered that the sword saint was the head of his family—he must have left most work to his capable subordinates, which is why he had so much time to train.
(Good job, loyal subordinates.)
As I approached the pavilion, Lani ran over and jumped into my arms. I hugged her tightly, and she said:
"Big bro, you're so cool!"
Then I heard a gurgle sound, seemingly coming from her stomach. I laughed, ruffling her head.
"Thank you. Is it lunchtime already? Your Majesties, you must be hungry too. I'll prepare lunch right away, please wait a moment."
"I'm looking forward to your cooking."
The king's words felt like a burden, so I replied humbly:
"I hope it's to your liking."
After speaking to the king, I headed to the kitchen. I decided to make dishes that would take a bit longer to prepare—everything was to buy some time.