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Chapter 6
Right now, I should be training.
But instead…
I’ve landed in a frustrating, no—infuriating situation.
Standing beside me with that beaming smile was Jayvolg, and I could practically feel my brain cells screaming.
And honestly, there were plenty of reasons I wanted to avoid Jayvolg.
I quietly called Bator aside.
“Bator.”
“Yes, Young Master?”
“Walk with me for a moment.”
We stepped into a nearby room, and I whispered,
“Is there any way to request a replacement from the main house?”
“A… replacement, sir?”
“Yeah. Anyone but him would be fine.”
Any other instructor would teach just enough and leave me alone.
That’d be infinitely better.
But Jayvolg?
That man doesn’t know what moderation is.
‘I’ll change you, no matter what it takes!’
I could still hear that vow echoing in my head.
“Well… sir…”
Bator looked troubled.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Young Master. He was personally selected and brought here by the First Young Master. The man is already famous in noble circles—a top graduate of the Imperial Knight Academy. He’s talented, respected, and highly sought-after by many prestigious houses.”
Bator’s voice trembled slightly as his fists clenched.
“The First Young Master handpicked him… for your sake.”
“…”
Okay… that made it a little harder to argue.
I didn’t want to let my eldest brother down, truly.
But still… Jayvolg wasn’t here to help me.
He was here to make my life miserable.
I remembered that version of me—my first life—when Jayvolg’s fiery passion infected me too.
“Wow! You were top of your class at the Knight Academy?”
“Indeed. The fruit of hard work.”
“If I work hard, can I become like you?”
“Of course you can.”
“I’ll give it everything I’ve got, sir!”
“Good! Let’s begin!”
Looking back now, I couldn’t blame Jayvolg entirely.
I was just as much at fault.
I ate up every word he said.
Even after he left our estate, I clung to the sword like it was my only purpose in life.
The result?
Complete and utter failure.
It was like telling a snake to fight like a tiger—with claws.
I couldn’t afford to repeat that mistake.
“Bator, please. Still, try asking my brother to reconsider. I’ll keep learning swordsmanship—I just need someone else to teach it.”
Again, the other reason I was so adamant about avoiding Jayvolg was simple:
He had too much passion.
So much that it was overwhelming. Unbearably so.
Jayvolg was the kind of man who lived and breathed the sword—to the point of obsession.
At first, it seemed admirable…
But eventually, I had to dodge him like we were playing tag just to get a break.
One might say, ‘Isn’t it a good thing to have a passionate teacher?’
Ha.
In the past…
“J-Jayvolg…?”
“Young Master! Even while sleeping, you must think of the sword. If you embrace your blade at night, it will bless you with divine insight—”
“—C-Can’t I just sleep? Please?”
He once stormed into my room at midnight and insisted I cuddle with my sword.
Said it would purify my soul or something insane like that.
“Jayvolg… It’s not even training time right now.”
“You must never part with your sword—not even during nature’s call!”
He even followed me into the bathroom once.
Started talking about sword techniques while I was mid-squat.
I nearly fell into the damn toilet.
By the time I realized something was seriously wrong with him, it was already too late.
He’d extended his original six-month term—just to “fix me.”
“I will change you.”
Touching, I guess…
But honestly, it brought tears to my eyes.
Not the heartwarming kind.
The existential crisis kind.
That was one of those rare moments where all you can do is laugh… while silently crying inside.
In the end, I just got… tired of him.
Whether it was a good thing or not, I’m not really sure.
But maybe—just maybe—it was because of Jayvolg.
Even after death, I kept training with a weapon that never even suited me in the first place.
Early education really is dangerous, huh?
If only Jayvolg had been someone like Hocheol Seung, the grim reaper-like instructor of the Sichuan Tang Clan…
He was a teacher who actually fit me.
A student needs a good teacher, and a teacher needs the right student.
A proper teacher-student relationship is one of mutual benefit.
Unfortunately, that just wasn’t the case for us.
Jayvolg was… a leech.
Not a bad guy, no—just an exhausting one.
But despite my protests, Bator shook his head firmly.
“I’m afraid not, Young Master. Sir Jayvolg will make you stronger. Didn’t you always envy the other Young Masters who were trained by elite knights?”
“…”
I had no way out.
Any further complaints would just make me look like a whiny brat.
Fine, I’ll sit through Jayvolg’s lessons.
Doesn’t mean I have to listen to them.
…What I didn’t realize was:
Even the strongest stone will eventually crack if a cricket chirps next to it nonstop.
“I’ll make you into someone truly powerful, Young Master!”
The sheer heat of youthful ambition radiated from him.
Maybe it was the spark of a newly appointed knight.
But Jayvolg’s eyes looked like they were about to drip molten lava.
I sat at my desk, silently enduring the endless doctrine of the sword.
“The sword is both the most flexible and the strongest weapon! That’s why most warriors choose the sword. House Pador is no different—it rose to greatness through the sword! The sword is supreme!”
Then why are you caressing it while saying that?
And what’s with that excitement?!
He’s not… a pervert, is he?
Can you stop stroking the blade like that…?
Does he have a weird fetish?
This man really needs to talk to a therapist. Seriously.
Just… hold on. Breathe.
But it had been over an hour already.
And Jayvolg hadn’t stopped singing praises of the sword since minute one.
How is he not tired of this…?
“Hnnngh…”
A groan slipped from me without even realizing it.
Jayvolg immediately snapped at me.
“Young Master, you must focus. You need a strong foundation from the very beginning.”
Technically, he’s right.
But you, Jayvolg—your words are complete nonsense.
Have you ever thought about what it feels like to sit through hours of useless lectures that don’t apply to you?
This isn’t a lesson.
It’s torture.
Back then, I was too ignorant to know better.
“Oh! Is that so?”
I’d say something like this—impressed by anything.
But now?
I’ve dueled with Sword Saints. I’ve stood toe-to-toe with masters.
You think your generic sword talk even registers in my ear?
At this point, I’d rather go outside and throw needles at a tree.
That’s why I brought them in the first place—to train.
But with Jayvolg clinging to me like a curse, I hadn’t been able to spare even a second.
“Now, in House Pador, we favor sturdy swords over flexible ones. For example—”
I tried to be patient. I really did.
But this…
This is too much.
Jayvolg was going to be my instructor for six more months.
And not because he wanted to stay—No.
The family had actually assigned him here, so he could finish my knightly training.
Basically, his long-postponed knight’s journey was put off even further…
…so he could teach me.
But that’s half a year from now—Half a year of this torture?
I can’t do it. I refuse to do it.
So I had to make a choice.
Should I just kick him out?
…No. That’s not it.
Jayvolg, for all his flaws, was someone I owed a debt to.
Not a deep one, but a debt nonetheless.
And a debt must be repaid.
That’s the Tang Clan’s rule.
Then how do I solve this?
How do I keep us from wasting time while still doing something productive for him?
Ah! That’s it.
Suddenly, a brilliant idea lit up in my mind.
If I can’t escape Jayvolg’s passion…
Then maybe I could repay that passion in kind.
I’d do for him what he once tried so hard to do for me.
Instead of him teaching me…
I’ll teach him.
He doesn’t even know it yet, but this will be the most valuable experience of his entire life.
After all, even the most talented juniors in the Tang Clan never got one-on-one guidance from me.
Yeah. This is perfect.
I don’t have to kick him out, and I don’t have to listen to his sword babble either.
Two birds, one stone. What more could I ask for?
But still… Would a student ever get away with telling his teacher he’ll be the one doing the teaching?
Not likely.
No matter how nicely I explained it, he wouldn’t understand.
Especially not someone like Jayvolg—a fresh graduate from the Imperial Knight Academy, still drunk on ideals and bursting with pride.
If I said something like that to him, he’d probably claim I was being insolent and double the lesson time just to “fix” me.
…Wait.
He’s proud, right?
Then maybe I should use that.
Sorry, Jayvolg. I’ll be poking at your nerves a little.
But I swear—it’s all for your own good.
“Sir Jayvolg.”
In the middle of one of his endless rants, Jayvolg responded without so much as a twitch.
“Yes, Young Master?”
“I’ve been wondering something. Why exactly is the sword considered the best weapon?”
“Why? Because it is the best. If you lined up the strongest knights in history, at least five out of ten would wield a sword. Doesn’t that prove it?”
“Okay, but… what if you handed a spear and a sword to two ordinary men who’ve never trained before. Who would win?”
“That’s clearly—”
“No. It’s obviously the guy with the spear. Every time. No exceptions.”
I cut him off again and pressed my index and pinky fingers together.
“Simple reason: reach. The spear is longer. That’s an absolute advantage.”
“Young Master, I understand why you’d think that, but that’s something only the ignorant would say. Once you reach a certain level of mastery—”
“Mastery doesn’t change the weapon’s length. Sure, you can enhance it with mana, but that’s not changing the weapon itself. I’m not saying spears are superior. Swords have their strengths, too. For example—”
I curled my pinky and index finger simultaneously.
The pinky folded faster.
“A spear’s long reach makes it harder to adjust once it’s committed to a thrust. There are more openings. Meanwhile, a sword allows for greater mobility.”
“Exactly, Young Master! That’s precisely why—”
“That’s not my point. I’m saying every weapon has strengths and weaknesses. What matters isn’t the weapon. It’s the person using it. And more importantly, whether it suits them.”
There are people out there who call the sword a universal king or a miracle blade.
If I had a needle with me every time I heard that kind of crap, I’d have stabbed each one of them in the forehead with it.
It’s all nonsense.
Only blind sword fanatics talk like that. People like… him.
Most of those types ended up with my poison tearing holes in their lungs or a flying dagger lodged in their skulls.
And if swords are supposedly the pinnacle of all weapons, then what about the best poisoned arts or dagger mastery?
World’s Best Throwing Knife Technique?
Heavenly Poison Palm?
Ten Thousand Blade Death Formation?
Sounds cool… but no.
At the end of the day, they’re just tools.
It’s the wielder that makes them deadly.
Still, the world is full of narrow-minded people like Jayvolg.
His face twisted.
“Young Master… with all due respect, that’s nonsense. There are correct answers in this world. Take magic, for example. It operates under fixed laws and formulas.”
“Wait, what exactly did you study at the Knight Academy? Because that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not debating training methodology—I’m talking about weapon differences, and more importantly, individual compatibility. Even mages have elemental strengths and weaknesses, don’t they? That’s all I’m saying.”
Even though I’m just a noble’s son, he clearly didn’t like me questioning his beliefs so directly.
His face finally showed a crack in that knightly composure.
Of course, he’s upset.
I’m attacking his entire worldview.
But sorry, I’m going to keep going.
His pride needs to bend.
Only then will he bite.
Once I push him far enough, he’ll take the bait—like a child trying to prove themselves, or a sore loser accepting a ridiculous wager.
Jayvolg stared at me for a long while… then suddenly let out a short laugh.
He chuckled, then full-on laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Hahaha…! Young Master, your rhetoric is truly impressive. For a moment there, I nearly fell for it! Your way with words could rival even the Imperial Academy scholars. As expected of House Pador’s bloodline.”
Then he lowered himself to my eye level and smiled sharply.
“If you keep walking your path, Young Master, you’ll one day understand. Why the sword is the only true weapon. And why your family—House Pador—chose it above all else.”
So… not cracking yet, huh?
It’s only the first day, after all.
Can’t expect to shake his faith that easily.
Doesn’t matter. I’ve still got time.
Besides, for the wager I plan to propose to Jayvolg, I’ll need a little prep time to ensure I win.
“Is that so? I must’ve read it in some book somewhere,” I said casually.
Jayvolg flinched slightly at my sudden change in tone, then frowned.
“What book was that?! Any seditious literature like that must be burned immediately.”
It’s my brain, you dolt.
“Not sure, haha!”
“You’d do well to stay away from such things. Instead, I highly recommend a book written by Headmaster Marcus of the Imperial Knight Academy himself — ‘Why the Sword is Always Right.’ If you’d like, I can even lend you my copy!”
“No, it’s fine. Let’s just continue the lesson.”
“Hmph… A pity. Well then! Since it’s the first day, we’ll go over sword theory today. Starting tomorrow, we’ll put that theory into practice!”
And so, for the next four hours…
Jayvolg continued his sword-speech with the burning passion of a thousand suns, even cutting into other instructors’ class time.
“That’s all for today, Young Master!”
Only when he saw me completely drained and barely clinging to my desk did he finally call it a day.
“Uuughh…”
Am I seaweed now?
My body was practically glued to the desk.
Seriously—How does someone talk that long about a sword?
That, too, must be a kind of talent.
“Young Master, are you alright?”
Marianne’s gentle voice reached me as she placed a glass of fruit juice on the desk.
“Please drink this, sir. You’ll feel better. You’re not even in good health… That knight must’ve been way too rough on you.”
“Right?”
“Of course.”
Just as I raised the glass to my lips…
Thump!
A few books landed loudly on the desk.
“No, no! That’s how you get strong, Young Master. That knight’s totally right!”
Nerlin beamed and pointed to the book covers — all of them had “sword” in the title.
“Look! I bought these from the town. They said if you read just one, you could become the next Sword King!”
Buying random books and expecting to become a master is… a fantasy. A sad one.
Nerlin, you really are the queen of unnecessary effort.
“Nerlin, these are all scams. You seriously believe this stuff?”
Marianne gave her a stern scolding.
Nerlin scratched her head sheepishly.
“B-but the merchant promised!”
“Of course he did. He was trying to sell them.”
“Really?!”
“That’s it. You’re coming with me. We’re getting a refund.”
Marianne hugged the books and dragged Nerlin out the door.
Within moments, the two maids were gone… leaving behind only the untouched juice on my desk.
Sluuurp…
“Mmm…”
Delicious.
Marianne really did have a talent for food and drinks.
“Hmm…”
More importantly, I needed to set up that wager with Jayvolg as soon as possible.
Because only then could I show that frog in the well just how vast the sky of martial arts truly is.
But first…
Let’s start by rebuilding this body.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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