Ch. 177

I clutched my stomach and rolled once across the grass, laughing. Lil looked rather upset, but her big childish dream really did make me laugh.

“Ah, my stomach… I’ll root for you. But since becoming a Spirit Mage isn’t an option, better have a backup plan.”

“Why can’t I be a Spirit Mage?”

“You can’t even hear Undine’s voice.”

“…So that means I can’t?”

“That’s one of the signs you don’t have the talent.”

Though, to be fair, being able to hear them at all is already exceptional. Still, Lil didn’t seem particularly gifted. Maybe I said it too bluntly, because her lips began to tremble, on the verge of tears.

Ah, great.

“Lil, you’ve got a good build—how about becoming a swordswoman instead?”

“A swordswoman? I’ve never thought about that…”

“I’ve got a decent eye for these things. Strong bones, straight legs, good shoulders… You’ve got the kind of frame that suits swordsmanship.”

“But still! I like Spirit Mages!”

“Good taste, but Spirit Mages aren’t something you can become just by working hard. Give it up.”

It might have sounded cold, but few professions depended on innate talent as much as that one. Giving her false hope would’ve been crueler.

“Ugh… But swordsmen are for boys! They smell like dirt, get all muscly, and it’s not even pretty! I hate it!”

“Oh, gender has nothing to do with it. What’s far more important—”

“More important? Like what?”

“—is class.”

I have this habit of smiling annoyingly when I’m saying something true.

“It’s about what stands behind you. Background, money, connections… talent. There are plenty of things that’ll crush you long before gender ever will. So don’t cry over something that small.”

“…That doesn’t sound comforting at all.”

“Well, that’s because it wasn’t meant to. I’m just telling you reality.”

There weren’t many advanced skills a commoner could learn. The most attainable path was swordsmanship. Next came the clergy, but that took passing through fierce competition—and even then, noble-borns filled most high positions.

“Big Sis, you’re so pretty but talk so mean…”

“Here’s a truth to remember, Lil: only family is kind to you without expecting anything back. Everyone else? They’re like this.”

So much for kindness—she was already pouting again, cheeks puffed like she’d stuffed ten candies in her mouth.

Still lying on my side, I poked one of those puffed cheeks with my finger. Lil groaned and pushed my hand away, so I gestured to Undine for a little special water show. Crying kids are trouble, after all.

“Wow!”

As shimmering droplets burst in the air, a tiny rainbow appeared. Lil forgot her sulking and stared up in awe. Then she asked,

“Hey, Big Sis, how did you become a Spirit Mage?”

“Looking back… sheer bad luck.”

“What happened?”

“A thick spirit tome fell on my head. Some people might call that fate.”

If that hadn’t happened, maybe I’d just be an ordinary magician by now. I wouldn’t have known Rai’s sarcasm or Undine’s cuteness—but I also wouldn’t have gotten dragged into half these messes.

I never liked the word “fate.” It sounded too much like I was just a puppet dancing on whatever path the gods had laid out for me.

“There you two are.”

It was Ash who found us, lounging lazily somewhere out in the wide fields. I’d sensed him approaching a bit earlier but hadn’t bothered to move, still resting my chin on my hand.

“You’re quick,” I said.

He came closer, calm as ever. “There were many helping hands, so we finished early.”

“Good timing, then.”

Ash always had the quietest presence in the group—barely noticeable except for the faint clink of the sword at his hip. In battle, even that disappeared completely. Objectively speaking, he really was an excellent swordsman.

That’s when a good idea struck me.

I sat up, dusted off my knees, and leaned my upper body against the wooden fence between where I’d been lying and the path Ash had come from. Then I picked up a half-eaten apple and got ready to throw.

“I’m throwing this.”

“Huh? What?”

“Lil doesn’t understand what’s so great about swordsmanship. Show her.”

I said it like I was giving orders to someone already briefed on the plan.

Ash blinked, startled, then sighed as I tossed the apple lightly in one hand and smiled. His hand instinctively went to his sword hilt.

Even if his mouth protested, his body was already preparing.

“Geenie, swordsmanship isn’t really—”

“Yup.”

Too late. The apple soared into the air. Lil scurried close beside me, eyes sparkling as it rose high. It wasn’t every day she got to see swordsmanship up close.

I leaned against the fence, chin in hand, watching expectantly. “You’re eating that, so don’t drop it.”

“…Slice it but don’t let any pieces hit the ground?”

Ash frowned slightly at the unreasonable condition but kept his eyes fixed on the apple.

His sword flashed.

All I felt was a sharp gust of air brushing past me. Blinding streaks of light flickered through the air in an instant.

When it was over, eight perfect slices of apple rested neatly atop his blade. Four cuts, maybe more. I’d only seen two.

He’d sliced horizontally once, then upwards—but how on earth had he managed to make the pieces land so evenly along the blade? I had no idea.

Turns out, there were far more things beyond my visual tracking ability than I thought.

‘Those who train their bodies really do live in another realm of physical ability.’

If that sword had come for me and I hadn’t been prepared, I’d have been diced into eight neat pieces too—so effortlessly it would’ve looked like cutting air.

No wonder duels between mages and swordsmen are rare. The difference in physical prowess alone makes it an unfair match.

Ash’s swordsmanship was both breathtaking and terrifying. And to think, Rovenin—the so-called genius of the sword—was supposedly even faster.

“Amazing!”

‘Clap clap clap!’

The brief silence of awe broke as Lil burst into loud applause. Her excitement was contagious; I found myself proud as if I’d done it.

“Well? Isn’t swordsmanship beautiful?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool, right?”

“I’ve never seen anything like that! He’s so cool—even though he looks so ordinary!”

I joined in with light applause of my own. Ash turned slightly red, embarrassed. For someone who could split an apple eight ways midair, he sure acted cute sometimes.

“He looks like he works at a bakery or a shop or something,” Lil whispered.

“Well, that’s… not wrong,” I admitted.

He really did look too ordinary to seem strong. I smiled at Ash, who was still standing there looking unsure what just happened. If Lil ever became a swordswoman, it’d be thanks to him.

“I like swordsmanship too now! It’s got this visible strength to it. And it’s one of those rare skills that rewards effort—well, more than most jobs anyway.”

“I like it too!”

“…What exactly was that all about?” Ash asked.

“I just wanted Lil to see proper swordsmanship.”

As I reached for one of the apple slices resting on his blade, he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t eat that. My sword’s used for cutting monsters—it’s not clean.”

I glanced down at his hand holding mine. “I might get a stomachache…? Or wait, what—”

“The blade’s dangerous. Better not.”

“Got it. But your sword looks pretty clean.”

“I maintain it well, but still—not for fruit.”

“True. You coat it with blood and oil often enough.”

When I thought about it, he had a point. Hardly hygienic.

Ash gently guided my hand away from the blade and flicked the apple pieces toward a herd of goats nearby.

My poor apple.

“If you’re hungry, you should eat a proper meal. They’ve finished cooking, so let’s go.”

“So that’s why you came to find us?”

We were still talking over the fence, and at some point, Lil had already slipped under it to Ash’s side.

“Perfect timing! Big Sis, Big Sis! Can I show Grandpa Undine?”

“Sure. Just for a bit.”

Maintaining the summoning wasn’t hard, so I nodded. Lil beamed, bouncing with excitement, then dashed toward the house.

I followed more slowly, climbing awkwardly over the fence since crawling under wasn’t an option for me. Ash awkwardly raised his hands as if to help but pulled them back.

“Ugh… were you trying to help me over?”

“Ahem.”

Judging by his embarrassed retreat, I was right. I chuckled softly as I landed. Always so eager to help—someone might really think he’s my attendant.

“By the way, where’s Lox?”

“Collapsed. Seems he overdid it.”

“Oh, honestly! So weak! Look at me—knowing my limits is a skill too, you know? Lox is just a fake know-it-all.”

“He just doesn’t like being apart from me.”

Naturally—he’s your watchdog, after all.

I shrugged and walked cheerfully through the breeze, thinking back to Ash’s swordsmanship. I mimed holding a sword, trying to copy the motion.

No matter how I imagined it, I couldn’t picture cutting an apple four times before it hit the ground.

Maybe like this? Or this?

I must’ve looked ridiculous, but Ash didn’t tease me. He only murmured softly when our eyes met,

“That looks nice on you.”

“This? Oh, the flower crown? Lil made it. Haven’t worn one since I was her age.”

I started to take it off, but he stopped me.

“It suits you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

When he gets flustered, it makes me flustered too. Maybe because honest men sound believable no matter what they say. I hated empty compliments, but his didn’t feel like that.

The scent of flowers drifted from above my head, and the path to the farmhouse was filled with the smell of wind and grass. Feeling cheerful, I spun once on my heel and walked backward, hands clasped behind me.

Bathed in sunlight, the moment felt oddly beautiful—almost like a painting.

“Ash, next time, teach me how to defeat a swordsman.”

And of course, I had to ruin the perfect mood with that.