I7O2ubRn7exBr
X951Df5C5myryaUcCi2bEI5
cqjMb6c86Bm3
UawoWyUzmfouVdY3
Chapter 5
Early morning.
Just as the tailors of the heavens stretched their limbs and reached for their shears, ready to tear away the veil of night, I had already risen and was deep in meditation.
“Hooo…”
Once again, I felt satisfied with the amount of poison accumulating within me.
When they’re feeding me such fine tonics without even realizing it, how could I not feel good?
Soon, my body will repair itself—my mana core will recover, and with it, my strength.
It’s time to prepare my vessel.
After finishing my morning breathing exercises, I opened the wardrobe.
Inside was a wide selection: tailcoats, formalwear, ceremonial robes.
All perfectly arranged.
All of them bore the same crest:
An eagle wrapping its wings around a sword—the symbol of House Pador.
Not a single one pleased me.
These clothes were far too cumbersome to use while practicing Tang Clan martial arts.
I’ll have to modify them myself.
Luckily, this estate has a tailor’s workshop.
I’ll head there and adjust these outfits to my liking.
After throwing on something decent, I grabbed several garments—hangers and all—and opened the door.
The halls were still quiet; the servants were quietly cleaning, surprised to see me.
“Young Master…?”
One of the housekeepers bowed and tilted his head, clearly puzzled by the clothes I carried.
After all, I was someone who was never expected to be awake at this hour—let alone walking around with an armful of clothing.
“Good morning.”
“Oh—y-yes. Good morning.”
“By the way… where’s the tailoring room?”
“The tailor’s room? If your clothes are torn, I can take care of them for you, sir…”
“No, I’d like to go there myself. Could you just tell me where it is?”
The man looked baffled for a moment, but quickly nodded and gave directions.
“Uh… Follow the left hallway until you exit the main building. Keep walking straight, and you’ll come to a building with a statue of a nanny holding a baby. Head up to the second floor there—that’s the tailoring room.”
“I see. Thank you.”
As I walked the halls, one thought kept surfacing:
This place is massive.
Even compared to the Sichuan Tang Clan, the scale isn’t lacking in the slightest.
More than ten buildings sprawled across the estate, and the sheer size of the grounds alone was on par with the Tang family’s ancestral compound.
To think House Pador could rival the Sichuan Tang Clan—once the strongest of the Five Great Clans in the martial world…
It reminded me, again, of how powerful this household truly was.
Before I realized it, I’d arrived.
Inside the tailoring room, a few older maids were already busy with their needles, clearly morning people.
-Knock, knock, knock.
“Who’s there…?”
One of the older maids straightened up at the sound of my knocking.
The door was already open, so I peeked in politely.
“May I come in?”
Technically, I was their master and could speak casually—
But people like this deserved respect, so I addressed them with courtesy.
“Ah… Y-Young Master?!”
The elderly maid and the other seamstresses paused, clearly startled.
“What brings you to the tailoring room…?”
I held up the clothes draped across my arm.
“These clothes are really uncomfortable. I was wondering if you could help alter them?”
“Of course, sir!”
The old maid gestured to the younger seamstresses.
“Girls, help the Young Master with those clothes—don’t keep him waiting.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Once they’d taken the clothes from me, the old maid bowed deeply, both hands folded with respect.
“And how would you like them adjusted?”
“I’d like the sleeves to be long enough to cover about half the palm. And on the inside of the sleeves, I want pockets—storage space, like hidden compartments. As for the length… maybe about this much?”
The maids blinked, confused.
Of course they were.
This wasn’t how regular clothes were designed.
This was a martial uniform.
The kind used by warriors of the Tang Clan.
Tang Clan fighters always carried concealed weapons on them.
So, naturally, their uniforms weren’t ordinary.
In fact, they were carefully engineered—Outfits that could hold and release hundreds of concealed weapons of various sizes.
I wasn’t expecting the tailor’s room here to recreate something that complex.
But even a rough imitation would be a good start.
After giving a full explanation, I clapped my hands together and smiled.
“So, what do you think? Doable?”
The elderly maid and her assistants still looked puzzled.
I guess I’ll have to… show them what I mean.
I pulled a single needle from the pincushion.
“Here, something like this…”
Shhhik—!
In one swift motion, I began tailoring the garment with the needle.
I stitched a leather band into the inner sleeve to fasten a throwing knife, then made a few more adjustments according to my preferences.
“Something like… this?”
The old maid and the seamstresses all stood with their mouths agape like stunned fish.
“Young Master… you had such skills…?”
Of course, they were shocked.
For the son of a noble knight family to be casually sewing like this?
But for someone like me—who handled hidden blades more naturally than chopsticks—this was nothing.
Still, now that I was doing it…
It was kind of fun.
Maybe I should’ve tried this sooner.
If I develop this further, it could become a useful form of training in its own right.
I smiled modestly and said,
“I’m just mimicking, really. Just copying.”
“N-no, truly, that was incredible…”
“Anyway… um, do you think it’s possible?”
“Yes, of course, sir! Absolutely. But… Young Master, if I may ask—why do you want to design the clothes like this?”
“Nothing serious. I just want to store a few things in them.”
“Ah… I see.”
Maybe she was worried that asking more would be disrespectful to a noble.
Or perhaps she just brushed it off as a boy’s eccentric whim.
Either way, she didn’t press further.
“Then we’ll begin right away.”
“Thank you.”
While the old maid and her assistants began their work, I pulled another needle from the pincushion—one of many sticking out of it like a tiny spiked weapon rack.
The feel in my hand—familiar.
This is it.
Most of the hidden weapons used in the Tang Clan had a similar form and weight.
What luck. I’d been needing a practice tool to start retraining my throwing techniques.
House Pador had no shortage of swords…
But hidden weapons? Not a single one.
Fortunately, Tang martial arts don’t require any specific object in your hand.
You can use anything—a coin, a pen…
But the most versatile substitute, both in shape and function, was the sewing needle.
Perfect for practice. Easy to get, easy to conceal.
Yes, this will do.
“Would it be alright if I took one of these needles?”
The old maid looked startled.
“Young Master, sewing isn’t a bad thing but… if the Lord or the other sons of the family saw, you’d get quite the scolding…”
“I’m sure I would.”
House Pador is a family of knights. Nobles through and through.
—“A future knight, playing with needles? What a disgrace.”
That’s exactly what they’d say.
—“A son, no less—not a daughter—practicing sewing? Unacceptable.”
I gave the old maid a casual excuse.
“I just wanted to train with it—thought I’d practice how to counter assassins who use throwing weapons.”
“Ah! I see.”
The old maid bowed deeply.
In a knight’s household, there could be no more acceptable reason.
“Then I’ll finish altering the garments and bring them to your room.”
“Yes, thank you.”
With a few decent needles secured, it was time to start training.
But then…
I spotted two girls running toward me from the end of the hall.
“Marianne? Nerlin?”
Nerlin tripped mid-run, nearly face-planting.
Marianne supported her while blinking sleepily.
What were these two unreliable maids doing up at this hour?
Marianne stifled a yawn and spoke.
“Young Master! You should’ve said something if you were getting up!”
“You should’ve just stayed in bed.”
“How could we sleep, knowing you were awake?”
Then don’t yawn while saying that…
Looks like they both woke up early because of me.
I was going to head straight into training, but…
Nerlin had a nosebleed.
Marianne looked like someone pickled in fatigue.
I figured… I could show a little mercy today.
I stretched and blinked sleepily.
“Come to think of it… I am kind of tired. Maybe I’ll go back to sleep.”
“Huh?”
“Yaaaawn… So sleepy…”
I wasn’t tired at all.
But for their sake, I returned to my room and laid down.
Waving my hand, I gestured for them to go too.
“You two should get some more rest. It’s still way too early to be preparing breakfast.”
“O-oh… okay…”
“Go on now. Or should I start undressing right here?”
Marianne and Nerlin yelped in alarm and rushed to the door.
“W-we’ll let you rest!”
“Good.”
…Now I can get back to refining my breathing techniques.
.
.
.
A little later, in the morning:
The clothes I had dropped off at the tailoring room were returned promptly.
Marianne came in, struggling under the weight of the garments.
“Young Master, did you send these to be altered?”
“Yeah. That was pretty fast.”
“You should’ve just told us! We’ve got dozens of servants here to help with things like that…”
“If all you ever do is sit around waiting for others to serve you, you’ll never amount to anything.”
“You’ve really changed lately, you know that?”
She hung the clothes carefully in the wardrobe.
Not bad.
A decent imitation.
If I ever wanted a proper custom martial outfit, I’d have to visit a talented designer.
But for now, this was more than enough.
I immediately changed into a sleek black training outfit and had a light breakfast.
While I was eating, Nerlin stood nearby, scribbling in her little notebook as she listed off today’s schedule.
“Young Master, today… um, you have some lessons. According to the plan, there’s history class first…”
Ah—right!
I completely forgot.
Now that I think about it, I used to be drowning in lessons when I was younger.
Did they help?
Not even a little.
And the grand finale of those worthless lessons always was…
“Also! A new fencing instructor has arrived!”
Nerlin’s face lit up with excitement.
Yep. That’s the one.
Sword instructors.
Because of them, I wasted more time than I care to remember.
Even just thinking about it now makes me—
…Wait.
A new instructor?
“Nerlin.”
“Yes?”
“Did you say a new sword instructor arrived?”
“Yes, of course! The main house arranged it especially for you. They’ve sent over a knight who graduated at the top of his class from the Imperial Knight Academy!”
“…”
My head throbbed.
Did a snake crawl into my skull or something? Why is this headache so sudden?
Right then, Bator—the butler who oversees the entire estate—stepped beside me and whispered:
“Young Master, your sword instructor has arrived.”
“Mmh…”
“Is something the matter?”
“No… it’s nothing.”
Had my face darkened without me realizing it?
For a brief moment, everything fell quiet—
And then, someone entered the room.
Clang. Clang.
The sharp, metallic clash of steel boots echoed down the hall, growing louder with each step.
I let out a heavy sigh, my head sinking like it wanted to disappear underground.
It felt like my blood had gone thick—clogging every vessel in my body.
Because that’s what sword instructors did to me.
Every. Single. Time.
“Young Master. It’s an honor to meet you.”
His voice was full of energy, like a soldier freshly commissioned.
Am I… supposed to be happy about this?
I turned to face the man behind the voice.
Yep. That face. It’s him.
A red laurel badge sewn onto the chest of his breastplate—The very symbol of the Imperial Knight Academy, the one he used to brag about nonstop.
He stood a full head taller than the average man, with shoulders broad enough to carry an ox.
If you needed a picture-perfect poster boy for “imperial knight,” this guy would be it.
The aura he gave off practically screamed trustworthy, strong, and reliable.
If only I didn’t already know better.
To be fair, I used to like Jayvolg too—back then.
But the problem is…
He has one fatal flaw.
A flaw that’s damn near incurable.
Ugh. My head hurts just thinking about it.
That flaw?
It clashed with me in the worst possible way.
It’s not like we were enemies or anything…
But we were the kind of people who, even if fate tied us together, would gain nothing from it.
How should I put it…
If I had to describe our dynamic, it’d be like:
Came with nothing, left with nothing.
A teacher and student should at least benefit from each other.
But with him?
It was like grasping at clouds—pointless.
Now here he was, bowing proudly with that shiny black hair of his.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I am Knight Jayvolg, and I’ll be serving as your sword instructor from now on.”
Sword Instructor Jayvolg.
The man who once taught me more passionately than anyone else…
…now stood before me again.
His face beamed with that same intense fire as before.
Please. Don’t.
We’re not compatible.
You know the type—People who just aren’t meant to mix, no matter how hard you try.
I go left.
He goes right.
Our paths are completely misaligned.
He’s not someone I dislike, but if we get involved, it’s only going to be a headache.
So yes, I had very valid reasons for avoiding Jayvolg.
If I had to sum him up in one phrase, it’d be:
“Jayvolg, the Sword Zealot.”
Jayvolg is obsessed with the sword.
And I mean obsessed.
The man doesn’t even glance at anything that’s not sword-related.
It’s a full-blown, terminal case.
I wasted six months of my life training under that sword maniac.
Sure, back then I wanted to learn the sword…
But it just didn’t suit me.
And even now, this body—Deyan’s body—is perfect for mastering Tang Clan martial arts, not wasting away with swordplay.
Teaching a Tang Clan elite to wield a sword?
That’s like some rookie from Mount Hua trying to give me pointers.
Jayvolg’s enthusiasm was admirable, sure.
But when enthusiasm overflows, it turns into a migraine.
Especially when it’s misguided.
Whether he knows it or not, Jayvolg’s lips curled into a bold smile.
“I’ll turn you into the greatest knight the Empire has ever seen.”
And just like that, the flames of his passion flared once more.
Here we go again.
Sigh… this is going to be exhausting.
---The End Of The Chapter---
Join Patreon to support the translation and to read 5 chapters ahead of the release.
Comments