Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Battle for the Porter - Ducal Domain (6)

"You came."

Ephrin was sitting on the bed. The room was too dark to make out her figure — only her crimson eyes were visible. A wind blew in through the open window, as cold as that gaze.

After finishing the day's duties, the guards had told me that no one was allowed into Ephrin's room. Not even Duke Lapitess entered.

I'd conquered that forbidden zone in a single day. The forbidden zone was more ordinary than I'd expected. A wooden bookshelf, a wardrobe, a desk. True to Ephrin's personality, there was nothing decorative whatsoever. The one thing that caught my eye was a small portrait on the desk. A beautiful woman with blue hair and golden eyes.

"So. Do you have something to say?"

"The wind is cold."

Ephrin gave a cold laugh at my words.

"Do you not understand your own fate? How do you go around blabbing the Ducal House's secrets? They say all sins are born from the mouth — that must certainly be true."

"That isn't why you called me to this room, is it?"

"Fair point."

Ephrin conceded. The moon shifted, half-illuminating her. Being lit halfway made her stand out more than full light would have. She seemed to have unwound her compression bandages to relax in her room.

"Who in the world are you?"

"Appari Tion."

"You didn't come here to play word games. I'll commend your courage for not running."

Ephrin's personality was similar to Airi's, yet different. If Airi was fire within fire, then Ephrin was fire imprisoned in ice.

"As I said — the wind is cold."

"What are you trying to say?"

"With wind blowing in from two directions, how could it not be cold?"

She stood from the bed at my words. Then calmly pushed the wardrobe aside. Behind it was a stairway leading underground. The chill rising from below intensified.

"Come down."

On the wall right beside the staircase, a silver sword identical to the one Airi wore hung by a cord. She took it naturally and descended the stairs. I followed.

Lights were fitted between the steps, but the stairway itself was dangerously steep. It seemed to be some kind of emergency escape passage common in noble houses. Starting from the second floor and drilling all the way to the basement, the descent took quite a while.

"You really don't run."

She said, near the bottom of the stairs.

"I have no reason to run."

"Because you're not lying? The world isn't a place you can live that innocently."

In my view, you were the innocent one, thinking like that. I'd decided to drop the clueless act. If Ephrin was showing her true self, then I owed her the same courtesy.

"It's because you cannot kill me, my lady."

"Why not? Don't assume the meek version of me is my true self. That was all an act."

"I'm aware of that. What I'm saying is that you are weaker than me."

When I went that far, she whipped around to face me. Her eyes didn't even look angry — just cold through and through.

"Insolent."

She said that, then turned back around and descended the remaining stairs. I arrived in the basement shortly after.

A bright lamp hung from the ceiling, fully illuminating the room. Countless swords with dulled edges lined the left wall, and the right wall was scored with innumerable slash marks. So this was where she'd been training. The Undefeated Mercenary Ephrin hadn't earned that title for nothing.

"Honestly, I'm not sure I could beat you either."

She said something unexpected. She still had her back to me.

"The small dungeon that opened near Lady's Lake — I discovered it by chance too. It was such a weak dungeon that even Sword Masters passed it by. But to call it a coincidence when you saw through my room's secret passage at a glance...... How could I possibly gauge your depth?"

She turned around as she finished. There wasn't the slightest waver in her eyes.

"In this place, it's either you die or I die. For the record, I don't like losing. I haven't yet seen the limits of my own talent. But if I lose to you, I'll accept that as my limit and step back. Because that's how the world works."

"Why do you think I'd kill you?"

"Because I'm going to kill you. Once I've resolved to do that, it's only natural that my mind assumes you'll try to kill me too, isn't it?"

She flicked her sword to a diagonal angle.

"Pick up a sword. The best one you can find. You'll probably think the difference in weapons is unfair. But that's what real combat is."

"I understand."

Because this isn't a spar — it's the real thing, at least in her mind. I deliberately chose the most rusted sword I could find. She frowned slightly.

"Are you looking down on me?"

What a difficult personality. I was playing along and she still had complaints. Was she this troublesome in the original too? I'd need to reread Ephrin's sections.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled. It felt as though iron armor had been drawn over my mind. Now no one could disturb my composure.

"A sword is merely a tool. It is wielded by its master. The only thing that cannot be wielded by a person is another person. Though even that isn't easy."

"Is that your excuse for picking the cheap sword?"

"I don't think I need a sword at all."

I poured mana into the sword until it overflowed. The energy collecting in the blade whipped up a vortex around me. Ephrin's eyes widened.

The rusted, worn blade shattered under my mana. But the fragments didn't fall. They clung together with mana, forming the shape of a sword.

"Because I need only think of myself as the sword."

"I see. You're something I can't beat."

She charged immediately. Despite being a rushed attack, her sword path was far cleaner than Airi's — and composed.

Considering Ephrin's age, this level of achievement was genuinely impressive. But that was all it amounted to.

I swung my sword once and sent Ephrin's blade flying. Her sword struck the ceiling and clattered down, and her torn palm bled.

I released all the mana binding my blade. The fragments rained onto the floor with a sound like a downpour hitting a tin roof.

"What are you doing?"

"About what?"

"I was trying to kill you, and you're not going to kill me?"

"No. When did I ever say I would?"

Ephrin stared at me with an expression of incomprehension. This world was medieval. Defeat meant death of honor, and death of honor meant disqualification as a human being. A house as proud as the Ducal House would hold that belief even more firmly.

But I didn't. I never killed without necessity. I'd killed people before, yes, but only when it was truly unavoidable.

"You're planning to run away, aren't you?"

I asked. Her expression came completely undone. The cold composure melted into shock. She clearly hadn't expected me to know that much.

"Deceiving even your own family, training at extreme intensity, deliberately fostering your guards' negligence. All of it points to one thing."

In truth, I was simply piecing together the ending from the novel in hindsight. She laughed, hollow and deflated. It was the first genuine smile she'd shown me, aside from the artificial one she wore as the young lord.

"What in the world are you?"

"But right now, you're weak."

I deliberately ignored her question and said what I needed to say.

Outside the estate, Ephrin disguised herself as a man, just as she did here. Marina, of course, would eventually discover she was a woman.

There was a scene later where Marina found out and they showered together. Nothing inappropriate — it was a romance fantasy, after all — but Marina had remarked on something.

- You have too many scars. Gouged so deep they've hardened beyond what I can heal.

She must have gone out unprepared and endured terrible hardships. I wanted to reduce some of that trial and error. Because, assuming she'd be an adult by then, she was also a girlfriend candidate of mine. Nowhere in what I'd read had it ever mentioned her getting a boyfriend.

"Let me guide your training for the week. If you leave as you are, you'll get badly hurt."

Ephrin's eyes flashed. Not to brag, but opportunities like this didn't come around often. One corporate chairman had once offered two hundred million won per hour for me to give his children Hunter lessons. I'd refused, of course.

"Why would you go this far?"

"When I see someone else's dream, I just want to cheer them on."

Though I had other motives. Romance, romance, romance.

"It seems I've lost to you in both swordsmanship and willpower."

Her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to the ground. Then she clawed at her short hair. I hadn't noticed at all — what had looked natural turned out to be a wig.

The short hair dropped to the floor with a soft thud, and her cascading blue hair, straight as a waterfall, tumbled all the way down to the ground. It was so long it covered one eye.

With her hair down, she looked like a sculpted goddess.

"I have nothing left to hide from you."

"I didn't know about this."

"Is that so?"

Ephrin returned her gaze to the right wall, layered thick with slash marks, her eyes cold again.

"Becoming a son — I can accept that. Only sons can inherit the Ducal title, after all. Living as a man doesn't bother me. It can't be helped. Just as my mother dying right after giving birth to me couldn't be helped."

"Giving up a part of yourself is never easy."

"It's not everything, so I can give it up. The fact that I'm a woman is just a tiny piece of what makes me who I am. If I can sacrifice that for a greater freedom, I'll do it gladly."

I nodded. This was who Ephrin had always been.

"But I despise becoming the Duke even more than becoming a man. That would bind my entire life in a noose. A cross-dressing Duke — isn't it obvious how that life would turn out?"

It would. Unable to properly engage in public affairs for fear of being discovered, she'd end up a caged canary trapped in the estate. Doing nothing but desk work. That didn't suit her at all.

"That's why I want to escape. I'm going to be a free person. Duke, title, whatever. I'd rather be a mercenary."

"I understand. Then let's get up."

"What?"

She looked up at me from the ground with round eyes. Looking down at her like this made her even more endearing. Just grow up well and come to me.

"Isn't one week too short?"

I kicked the broken sword fragments into a corner and took another blade from the wall.

"On your feet, my lady. I'll oversee your training."

When I raised the sword and assumed the Trafviche salute, she stood without a word of protest. The fire reignited in her eyes.

She raised her silver sword horizontal, held the blade and pommel between her fingertips, and bowed to me.

The Trafviche salute from student to teacher. Stubborn to the letter, this one.

I charged at her.