At Felicia's vow of loyalty, everyone's eyes went wide.
She asked for no reward of any kind—only to be allowed to serve.
It was loyalty so devoted it bordered on madness.
Everyone was stunned, but none more so than Lucian's brothers.
"What in the world is this…?!"
"Ah… ah…!"
Tristan stared with eyes wide open at a scene he had never anticipated, while Joshua stood with his mouth agape, unable to speak.
Jordi's face, his lips bitten so hard they nearly drew blood, flushed red as if it were about to burst.
As his brothers' insides churned, Lucian drew his sword and tapped Felicia lightly on the shoulder.
"Then I, Lucian Valdeck, swear that you and I shall walk together—even into hell!"
When the vow between lord and knight was complete, Felicia bowed deeply and then took her place at Lucian's side.
It was the moment the master of the future Sword Saint was decided.
The knights looked at one another in a daze at how swiftly everything had unfolded.
At a time like this, they should at least have made a show of celebration—but everyone was so stunned that no cheers came forth.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
At that moment, the sound of something being struck suddenly drew everyone's attention.
Some knights were rapping their scabbards against the ground, while some soldiers were stamping their spear shafts.
It was a distinctive rite used on the battlefield to show respect to one who deserved honor.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
At first, only a handful joined in, but one by one, soldiers and knights began to follow their lead.
As their numbers grew, the sound swelled, until before long it began to shake the entire area.
The knights who had been momentarily bewildered by the sudden ritual soon realized the reason.
They're the ones who took part in suppressing the Krepfeld Rebellion!
They're paying homage to the Third Young Master who led them.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The vibrations spreading across all of Kelheim were like a collective cry—
a declaration that at least they knew Lucian was worthy of receiving the future Sword Saint's loyalty.
As that swelling roar reached its peak—
"Waaaaaah!"
"Long live the Third Young Master!"
"Long live Sir Felicia!"
"Valdeck forever!"
Thunderous cheers erupted, blessing the two war-gods.
It was thanks to the soldiers' ritual that everyone was reminded of the achievements Lucian had built.
Even those still dazed were swept up in the fervor, finding themselves offering blessings without realizing it.
Amid cheers from all sides, Lucian and Felicia whispered to each other.
"Please take care of me from now on, my lord."
"Likewise."
***
—The Sword Saint's successor is actually a woman!
—And she's sworn loyalty to the Third Young Master!
After the investiture, those two rumors swept across the Valdeck territory like a storm.
People were left reeling by the sudden news.
A fairy-tale female knight appearing in reality was shocking enough—but that she had sworn loyalty to the Third Young Master, who was no more than a rising prospect?
"What on earth is going on? The Third Young Master has certainly been making a name for himself, but is he really someone who can shoulder the Sword Saint's successor?"
"Could this have been Sir Aizen's intention? If he's expressing support for the Third Young Master through his successor…"
"Nonsense! How long has it been since he explicitly said he wouldn't involve himself in politics, and now you're dredging up old speculation again?"
"No, but if not that, how else do you explain it? She's already bound to be embroiled in controversy just for being a woman—what could she possibly be lacking to make such a choice?"
Not only the knights of the Valdeck family, but even knights from other territories who heard the rumors were shaken by the incident.
That was how immense the weight of the title Sword Saint truly was.
As all manner of wild conjectures flew about in response to the unexpected turn of events, the truth gradually began to leak out from within the Valdeck household.
"I heard this recently, but apparently it was the Third Young Master who recommended Sir Felicia to Sir Aizen in the first place."
"What? Then what was she doing before that?"
"They say she was the illegitimate daughter of some family. The Third Young Master recognized her talent while she was being mistreated at home and brought her out."
"Ah—now it makes sense. So he's her benefactor, the one who saved her life."
"Indeed. In that case, serving anyone other than the Third Young Master would make no sense. A knight dies for the one who recognized them."
Once the circumstances became clear, the knights spoke in unison, praising the story of Lucian and Felicia.
No matter how world-shaking one's talent might be, without the chance to bring it forth, it would simply fade into the margins of history.
For a knight obsessed with honor, the grace of recognizing their talent and granting them a chance to earn renown weighed even heavier than a debt of life.
As the truth spread, the idle rumors died down—but this time, a different group began to stir.
Whatever the reason she swore loyalty to the Third Young Master, she is the future Sword Saint. That symbolism can't be ignored.
Many knights are enthralled by the name of the Sword Saint. Whether out of rivalry or reverence, knights always swarm around a young Sword Saint like moths to a flame.
And if she's a woman, they'll come even just to test her strength. This is bad. At this rate, a power base will form before we even have a chance to intervene.
Those who had dismissed Lucian as merely a promising prospect and chosen not to get involved began to grow anxious belatedly.
No matter how impressive his achievements were, it had only been a year—too early to invest, or so they'd thought, which was why they'd kept their distance.
But if they continued to hesitate, a faction would form around the future Sword Saint's fame before their eyes.
And once talent had already gathered, forcing one's way in later would only mean diminished returns.
This won't do. We need to establish at least some connection before it's too late.
If nothing else, the Third Young Master lacks financial backing. We'll have to start by sending gifts and slowly currying favor.
Should we switch sides entirely? The money we've invested so far would be a loss, but if it means boarding the same ship as the future Archduke…
These weren't hanger-ons looking to ride Lucian's rising fame, but genuine power brokers—people capable of mobilizing force and wealth.
****
"Young Master, another gift has arrived."
"And who sent it?"
"The branch manager of the Roth Merchant Guild."
"Just shove it in a corner somewhere."
Lucian waved dismissively without even checking the letter that came with the gift.
As Hans watched yet another item get added to the already towering pile of presents, he made a thoroughly fed-up expression.
"Is it really all right to do this? Since you received something, shouldn't you at least send a reply?"
"A reply for what? They're only coming on strong because they're the ones who want something. Unless they're figures powerful enough to be hard to ignore—which they're not—there's no need. And more than anything…"
Lucian glanced to the side and spoke with a deep smile.
"I have a dependable future Sword Saint at my side now. Even if they hold a grudge, there's nothing to fear."
"You flatter me."
Felicia bowed deeply, as if responding to her lord's trust.
After the investiture, Lucian appointed Felicia as his guard knight and kept her at his side ever since.
It was both to flaunt his connection with the future Sword Saint to the outside world and to strengthen the bond between lord and knight.
Good thing Sir Aizen is flexible. With training being urgent, he could've taken her back immediately and I wouldn't have been able to object.
Lucian let out a quiet sigh of relief.
With little time left in his life, Aizen would naturally want to complete the transmission of his sword arts first.
Yet unexpectedly, Aizen had readily accepted Lucian's proposal.
—Do as you wish. A knight who swears loyalty only to leave her lord's side immediately would be strange even by my reckoning. Even if it takes a little time, it's better to dispel needless misunderstandings first.
Though he had taught Felicia for only a few months, all traces of urgency had vanished from Aizen's face.
It was the composure of someone who believed that, even accepting Lucian's proposal, he would still have ample time to pass on everything he knew.
What an incredible talent. To make even Sir Aizen—who knows roughly how much time he has left—this relaxed.
Lucian clicked his tongue at Felicia's genius, yet felt a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
That world-shaking talent now served him alone.
Suddenly, the faces of his brothers surfaced in Lucian's mind.
"Come to think of it, have you heard anything about my other brothers? It's been a while since the investiture."
The sight of them missing out on the Sword Saint's successor—reeling in frustration, seething with rage, and turning pale with shock—was still vivid in his mind.
Back then, they'd looked ready to draw their swords and charge at him at any moment. And yet, they were strangely quiet now.
"I've only heard rumors, but apparently the First Young Master has gone into seclusion since the investiture. They say he hasn't taken a single step outside his room."
"And the other two?"
"They seem to meet often, but they argue and part ways just as frequently. I don't know what they're discussing."
So Tristan had locked himself away from the shock, while Jordi and Joshua were unable to properly form an alliance due to mutual distrust.
At the unexpected outcome, Lucian let out a faint, wry smile.
He'd assumed the three would immediately band together and try to drag him down—but instead, they'd scattered in all directions.
Well, that works out nicely for me.
Without his brothers breathing down his neck, he could use his time far more effectively.
Having finished his thoughts, Lucian looked at the towering pile of gifts and gave Hans an order.
"Send all the gifts to Hugo and have him liquidate them. We'll add it to the funds for buying medicinal ingredients."
"Again? The amount left over after selling the previous gifts is already quite substantial."
"It'll run out soon enough. We should earn as much as we can while we have the time."
"At this rate, wouldn't it be better to just secure a suitable patron…?"
"That's not an option."
At Hans's suggestion, Lucian shook his head with a serious expression.
At least for now, he couldn't afford to owe anyone.
It's not just that we're short on cash—there's no reliable source of income at all. If a patron steps in now, they could end up settling in as the de facto finance chief. Once an easy path appears, people inevitably grow dependent on it.
If things went wrong, the very lifeline of the faction—its funding—could fall into the hands of an outsider.
Even if they swore loyalty, the help they provided in Lucian's time of need would eventually come back as a bill—demanding status and treatment commensurate with their "contribution" among his retainers.
He had no desire to see things turn out that way by bringing in outsiders—unless they were utterly trustworthy close aides.
At the very least, the purse strings have to stay in my hands. If I'm going to depend on others for money, I'd rather delay building any faction at all until I've secured my own means.
"I understand. I'll send the gifts to Hugo and have him dispose of them."
Sensing something off in Lucian's demeanor, Hans moved quickly.
If nothing else, he seemed to realize that his remark had touched on something his master was sensitive about.
"I'm counting on you. And Felicia."
"Yes, my lord."
"Teach me the sword."
"…Pardon?"
Felicia couldn't help but look bewildered.
Her expression plainly said she had no idea why he would want to learn from her.
At the unexpected reaction, Lucian felt oddly put off instead.
"Is it that strange to ask you to teach me the sword? You're the future Sword Saint—there's nothing odd about learning from you."
"No, but… is there really any need for you to learn from me?"
"I do practice the Lionheart Sword, but aside from sword forms, my actual swordsmanship isn't all that exceptional. You know that mastery of forms and individual skill are separate things."
"That is true, but…"
After hesitating for a moment, Felicia spoke her honest impression.
"But you defeated me, my lord. With your talent, you must have grown far beyond that by now."
At her words, Lucian subtly averted his gaze.
It seemed he would first need to clear up a misunderstanding about his own talent.
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