The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent – 135
EP.135 Secret (3)
At the very least, the Sword Saint wasn’t trying to actually cut me down with a real sword. The problem, however, was that this small mercy didn’t make much of a difference to me.
After all, even if I were cut by a real sword, I could always rewind time to before the injury occurred. To me, getting cut was no different than experiencing pain, nothing more. Still, since Lucas’s sword—befitting that of a prince—was a finely crafted, razor-sharp blade, the pain didn’t hit immediately after being cut. Partly because of the sword’s sharpness and partly because my brain would release endorphins to dull the pain.
In that sense, whether it was a real sword or not, the “pain” I experienced didn’t change much. In fact, this blunt wooden weapon, which didn’t even allow for an endorphin rush, arguably hurt more. And regardless, every time I got hit, I had to rewind time anyway.
Unlike Lucas’s swordsmanship, which involved a single slash that ended once I dodged, the Sword Saint’s attacks came in relentless succession. That made things all the more tedious.
“Hmm.”
The Sword Saint executed a flawless five-hit combo so quickly that I was forced to rewind time over a dozen times. Now, resting his sword casually on his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow.
“How strange.”
He murmured something I’d heard him say a few times before.
“There’s no talent at all.”
“Talent…?”
Leo, who had been watching from the side, murmured in shock.
Smack!
“Guh!?”
Frederick promptly knocked Leo on the forehead with the hilt of his sword.
“You call yourself my disciple, and yet you can’t even tell if someone has talent? This kid has none whatsoever. To be frank, the way you’re dodging my attacks looks like pure luck to me.”
His assessment was spot-on. I was dodging as best as I could.
While I tried to make my movements appear as graceful and precise as possible, the truth was they lacked any structure or method. My movements didn’t follow any specific school of swordsmanship; they were entirely improvised.
In that sense, Frederick was far superior to Lucas when it came to teaching. While Lucas might surpass Frederick in raw skill and talent as a swordsman, he would have likely mistaken my erratic movements for sheer physical ability.
...Which was probably why Lucas had declared he’d cut me down.
“This guy… What are you—”
“Uh, Master?”
Leo interjected hastily when Frederick referred to me as “guy” in a tone that was anything but polite.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Well, um…”
Leo approached Frederick and raised a hand to his mouth, whispering something. Likely, he was explaining my true identity—specifically, that I was the imperial princess.
Smack!
“Guh!?”
But Frederick, upon hearing Leo’s explanation, immediately struck him on the forehead again.
“What does being some imperial princess matter? Have you ever wondered why I live in this cliffside cabin in the first place? It’s because I’ve had enough of titles and politics. At least here, a person’s position is determined solely by their swordsmanship. So─”
Frederick pointed his sword directly at me and said,
“─In this cabin, this guy hold the lowest position of all.”
Although my appearance was unmistakably feminine, Frederick still referred to me as “guy,” a term usually reserved for addressing men.
...Well, I suppose “guy” is better than something more abrasive. He already comes across as a bit of an old-fashioned curmudgeon, and I wouldn’t want him to seem entirely unlikable.
Meanwhile, Leo’s face had turned past pale and was verging on blue as he listened to his master declare me “low-ranking.” Honestly, though, I was technically his disciple too. Even if my master didn’t remember me, that still made me one of his students. In a sense, that made Leo and me peers.
“Understood,” I said.
The Sword Saint raised one corner of his lips, amused.
“Hmm, very well. Since you came all the way here without using that gun, it seems you’re not my enemy. I’ll hear what you have to say.”
With that, he gestured to an empty chair, indicating I should take a seat.
*
Sitting down, I straightforwardly explained the reason for seeking him out, omitting any mention of my abilities or lineage. Those weren’t details to share at the moment. I figured they would come up eventually, but for now, resolving the immediate issue took precedence.
“So, you’re saying your stepbrother wants to cut off your head, and you want to find him?”
“Yes.”
“And you have something you wish to discuss with him?”
“Yes.”
“You suspect your stepbrother is stronger than me?”
“That’s correct.”
“…Do you have a death wish?”
The Sword Saint looked at me with an incredulous expression.
Well, he wasn’t exactly one to talk.
The man had shown clear interest when I mentioned someone stronger than him and had immediately taken me as his disciple when I suggested introducing him to Lucas during our first meeting. If we’re talking about reckless behavior, he probably outranked me.
Not that I laughed out loud at his remark—I could at least read the room.
…
Meanwhile, as the two of us talked, Leo stood to the side, pouring tea into cups. His expression was frozen, as though he were holding his breath.
When I didn’t respond, the room fell into silence for a moment.
I lifted my teacup, took a sip—and reflexively furrowed my brows at the taste. It had been a while since I reacted so strongly to flavor alone. My gaze drifted to Leo, who was now staring back at me with an expression of utter betrayal, as if I had wronged him deeply.
Whatever he had served me was definitely not the tea I was used to. Upon closer inspection, its pitch-black hue made it look less like brewed tea leaves and more like a concoction of medicinal herbs. Perhaps it had been brewed from the plants in the basket Frederick had thrown earlier.
“Is there no sugar?” I asked, boldly.
Frederick let out a disbelieving scoff, shaking his head.
“Are you serious? You want to add sugar to a medicinal brew?”
“…...”
Upon reflection, it didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. I silently set the teacup down and addressed the Sword Saint.
“I don’t wish to die. However, there’s something I desperately need to ask.”
I needed to understand more about why Lucas had chosen me. If he’d been watching that facility from the beginning, he might know how I ended up there—or at the very least, whether I’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere. And then there was Claire.
I might not uncover everything, but Lucas was the only one I could question right now. If things went wrong, I could simply rewind time and undo the entire encounter. That way, I wouldn’t end up dying at Lucas’ hands. While I was at it, I could erase the black mark on my history where I’d called Jayden “big brother.” The memory of him proudly introducing me as “his little sister” to his commanders, his face practically glowing, was... something I’d rather forget.
“Hm.”
The Sword Saint shifted his gaze to Leo, who stood stiff with tension.
“So, I’m curious why, in searching for this Lucas, you felt the need to come to me specifically,” the Sword Saint asked, turning back to me and leaning slightly over the table. His expression betrayed a keen interest—more so than when he’d learned about my background.
“…Lucas,” I began, carefully choosing my words in the hopes of persuading him, “will inevitably consider you a stepping stone to his final target. He’ll seek you out as an intermediate goal.”
In the original story, the Sword Saint didn’t die until much later.
I wasn’t sure if Lucas was currently tracking me or not, so expecting him to appear before me in the next few days was unrealistic. However, I could ensure that Lucas showed up eventually.
If word reached Lucas that the Sword Saint had reappeared, I could simply rewind time to just before the encounter and bring the Sword Saint out of hiding. The best course of action was for Frederick to leave his secluded life in the mountains. By making himself more visible, Lucas would find him more easily. Ideally, I could bring him close to the capital.
“Ho,” Frederick said, his grin far more menacing than when I had first entered the cabin.
“So, Lucas considers you an even greater ‘threat’ than me.”
“That’s correct.”
“How presumptuous of you.”
“……”
I tensed as I saw Frederick grip the hilt of his sword again, my body stiffening in anticipation.