SML Ch 20

Chapter 20

He tried to appear calm, but his voice trembled slightly. Reynald struggled to suppress a smile at the sight—there was something endearingly awkward about how Alex, clearly inexperienced, couldn’t quite hide his emotions. Alex stood up right away and picked up one of the wooden swords that had been rolling on the ground.

“All right then. I’m starting to get tired too, so I’ll make our duel the last one.”

It wasn’t a lie. Even though he’d been conserving his energy while moving, after over two hours of sparring with energetic young men, Reynald had accumulated a fair bit of fatigue himself.

Above all, he was hungry. As he casually readjusted his grip on the sword, already thinking about getting something to eat once this duel was over, he suddenly heard cheers erupting from among the young men.

“You can do it, Alex! Take the lord down!”

“If the lord’s worn out now, you’ve got a real shot!”

What a bunch of shameless brats. Reynald was dumbfounded at the sight of them cheering, even whistling in support. He shot them a glare, and the youths instantly fell silent, putting on faces as if they hadn’t done anything. Their brazenness knew no bounds. Reynald looked at Alex, feeling like he’d somehow become the villain in this scene.

“So, think you can bring me down?”

“……”

When Reynald asked jokingly, Alex gave an awkward cough and took his stance. The unnecessary expectations being placed on him seemed to be weighing him down. Reynald let out a hearty laugh and charged in without hesitation.

Since he was a bit fatigued, Reynald actually moved more cautiously. After all, this was part of their training, and if he swung the sword carelessly and injured Alex, the whole purpose would be defeated.

He had to be especially mindful since the young men here didn’t have standardized movements. Knights from the capital, having received formal training, moved in predictable patterns, but these locals moved however they pleased, which made them even harder to anticipate—

“Oh?”

This was… interesting. After exchanging a few blows, Reynald let out a soft exclamation and took a step back. While Alex’s power, speed, and instincts were inferior to Volant’s, what caught Reynald’s attention was something else entirely. Alex’s movements more closely resembled those of knights than of the other young men in this domain.

Though rough compared to the refined techniques of knights, his swordplay still carried basic principles and flow. It was clear that he had received structured training. That made him worth the effort of teaching.

“How many years of sword training did you have?”

“I started at six and trained for about three years.”

“Sounds like you had a good teacher. Let’s continue.”

Though Alex tilted his head slightly in confusion, he resumed his attack. Only three years of training, and that training had ended ten years ago—yet the fundamentals remained. That could only mean he had been taught by an excellent instructor.

Reynald began using the classic sword techniques he used when training his knights. Alex, though clumsy, did his best to follow.

As their swords clashed in that manner, Reynald quickly identified the region where Alex’s sword style originated. Though ten years in this domain would have dulled any regional influence, the remaining fundamentals still betrayed his roots.

“Southern region, huh. But…?”

Knights from the southern part of the Carbonel Kingdom were known for their distinctive swordsmanship. Yet Reynald couldn’t help but tilt his head in confusion—why had someone from the south come all the way to this northeastern village? Alex had said he came here ten years ago, which would have made him around nine at the time. For someone so young to flee here alone was highly suspicious.

There had to be some story behind it. That thought still in mind, Reynald abruptly changed his sword’s trajectory and struck toward one of Alex’s vital points. The sudden attack, following a prolonged exchange of textbook offense and defense, caught Alex off guard. As he tried to block it, he lost his footing. If he had had more stamina, he might’ve been able to dodge or defend, but it seemed he had reached his limit.

When Reynald followed up with another strike, Alex dropped his sword and fell with a loud thud. Watching Alex gasp for breath as though choking, Reynald wiped the sweat from his brow. All that movement had finally made him feel hungry.

“Huff, huff…!”

“Your stamina’s lacking. With that level of technique, I thought you’d at least last as long as Volant.”

“I did last about that long, didn’t I? Just under thirty minutes.”

“Is that so. Anyway, have you all eaten lunch? Or have you just been fooling around here?”

“No, we haven’t eaten.”

“Then let’s go eat. It’s well past lunchtime—aren’t you hungry?”

Reynald casually extended a hand to Alex, who took a few moments to catch his breath before grabbing it and pulling himself up. He stared at Reynald with a look that suggested he was seeing some kind of monster, then finally opened his mouth.

“But, my lord.”

“Hmm?”

“…My lord, just who are you, and what were you doing before you came here?”

“I wandered around here and there, subjugating monsters. Then I retired.”

Reynald offered a vague answer with an unreadable expression. He wasn’t lying. That “subjugation” included things like the red dragon of Mount Rien, the king of fairies who dwelled on the border between life and death, and a thirteen-headed hydra—but there was no need to share such details.

Besides, Reynald was the only one who considered himself retired. The royal court probably didn’t see it that way, but he didn’t particularly care. He had no intention of returning to the capital anyway.

“……”

“Why the face? Want me to carry you if you can’t walk?”

“Please don’t mock me…”

Alex trudged along behind the other young men, looking slightly dejected. Reynald shrugged lightly and followed at a relaxed pace. He felt a little sheepish for showing off in front of the village youths, but still, it had been an enjoyable match.

‘Come to think of it, it’s kind of funny. The people in this domain don’t even know my name.’

Reynald chuckled to himself. Now that he thought about it, none of the people here even knew his name. But that wasn’t so unusual—most common folk never bothered to learn their lord’s name. After all, they had no reason to call him by it, and to them, a lord was just someone to avoid trouble with.

Heide, who had received contact from the capital, might know his name, but even he probably didn’t know that Reynald had once been the commander of the royal knights. It wasn’t surprising—this place was practically cut off from the outside world.

Reynald let out a bitter smile. He had once been fairly well-known in the capital, though not always admired. As the first commoner to become the captain of the knights, and someone who had achieved feats considered too grand for one man alone, his name was constantly surrounded by rumors.

Because he’d focused solely on monster subjugations instead of accumulating wealth, some knights held a degree of respect for him. But those who loved to nitpick had taken a great interest in him, and he’d been engulfed in all sorts of nasty gossip.

Some even used his unmarried status as fodder. Among a few eccentric nobles, absurd rumors circulated that he had advanced in rank by offering himself to the king in his youth. Truly, the human imagination knew no limits.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about such rumors here. The people in this remote region were ignorant of worldly affairs, and as long as Reynald kept his mouth shut, they’d probably just think of him as “a slightly odd lord” and not question it further.

Alex did seem to eye him with a bit of suspicion, but given Alex’s own mysterious background, he was unlikely to pry into Reynald’s past. Even if he did figure something out, he wouldn’t go blabbing about it to others. For now, that was more than enough.

“It’s kind of chilly now. Maybe I sweated too much.”

“You should wash up after eating. Otherwise, you’ll catch a cold.”

“We don’t have any hot water, though. Not much firewood left.”

“…If you wash with cold water, you’ll only catch a worse cold. Then at least soak a towel and wipe off the sweat. It’s not good for hygiene.”

“Ah, but I did laundry earlier and we’re out of towels.”

“……”

“Oh, right. Since we’re all sweaty anyway, maybe we should head up to the northern forest and gather some firewood?”

“Even if we go right after eating, it’ll be sunset by the time we arrive. Besides, didn’t you lot say ogres and swines live in that forest?”

“Well yeah, but I’m sure we’ll manage. The ogres are usually too busy bothering the swines to come out, and the swines barely move around in winter, right? If we just snap off a bunch of twigs from the forest’s edge, it should help.”

“That’s true, but let me ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Yesterday, the lycanthropes destroyed the ratmen’s houses and fences, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then the ratmen will need new houses and fences, correct?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“What do ratmen use to build their homes?”

“…Wood, I suppose.”

“Then who’s probably in the northern forest right now?”

“I think we’ll be fine wiping off the sweat with cold water and huddling together for warmth!”

The young men burst out laughing and headed toward the dining hall. It wasn’t much, and from one perspective, it could have felt a bit miserable—but they laughed anyway. Reynald followed behind them at a leisurely pace, a bitter smile playing on his lips.