How to Live as a Swordmaster of the Enemy Nation

Ernest

A sunlit training ground. Various weapons were displayed, each radiating its own sense of nobility.

Ernest picked up a wooden sword and handed it to Gregory. After tucking the sword into his waist, the two faced each other. A simple nod was exchanged as a sign of mutual respect for each other's swordsmanship.

No matter that Gregory had become a first-class knight; his opponent was Ernest. Because of that, despite being somewhat friendly toward Gregory, Ernest was actually worried.

"Gregory, I'm only doing this because you asked, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. Be prepared."

The truth was, he didn't need to win. The biggest reason he had requested this spar was to find his focal point.

The focal point was crucial in mana control. It was necessary to identify which part of the body had less flow of mana and where it flowed the most when using the body.

Each time their swords clashed, a faint tingle ran through certain places.
A normal person wouldn't have noticed such a sensitive reaction, but Gregory had to concentrate on those spots.

He had to withstand as many attacks as possible, regain his senses for mana, and find his focal point.

Training with the knowledge of where one's focal point was and without it was completely different. Besides, knights of the 1st to 3rd ranks were traditionally called sword beginners, but reaching the level of a sword user—a 4th to 6th rank knight—required knowing one's focal point; only then could one ascend to such rank. There were certain conditions that had to be met to increase the number of rings.

The reason he chose Ernest as his opponent was that, with his current skills and mana, the twin brothers Reino and Kylo couldn't even serve as a proper experience—they were far too weak. On the other hand, sparring with Ernest would be physically challenging, thus stimulating his focal point.

Gregory picked up his wooden sword. The respectful etiquette from their opening nod disappeared, and as Gregory raised his sword toward Ernest, the match began.

A corner of his mouth twisted upward.

"Shouldn't you worry about yourself? Come at me."

Tsk. Cocky brat.
Unlike himself, who was simply concerned, Ernest became irritated by the other's cocky tone and behavior. No matter how calm his personality usually was, he couldn't stand his cherished younger brother showing off.

The first attack came at Gregory. An overhead strike with too much force behind it. Its pressure could be strongly felt. But as someone who had reached the level of swordmaster in his previous life, Gregory had seen plenty of attacks like this. If a weapon was wielded with such brute strength, flexible attacks would be impossible. As he watched Ernest, Gregory thought,

'Cute. Reminds me of myself when I was younger.'

He lightly struck the blade, throwing off its trajectory. Because of the excess force, if he dodged this attack, the next one would come slower. Seizing that opening, he dove in. His attack was blocked all too easily. Gregory shot him another smirk.

"Is that all? If you just grip harder like that, all you'll do is end up getting hit."

More unsolicited advice followed. Now even angrier, Ernest attacked faster than before. Gregory met his attacks plainly, one after another. However, their power was more than he expected. His arms began to shake as he continued blocking.

Under Ernest's desperate attacks, Gregory quietly muttered,

"Kugh... Your strength is completely buried in emotion."

Staring at Gregory, who stood calmly before him, Ernest felt confused.

Right now, he was standing without a hint of wavering. Ernest had thought his younger brother was just an ordinary person, but his movements were surprisingly precise.

Ernest's sword suddenly felt heavier. But that weight wasn't just the weapon's. It carried his own sense of inferiority toward his brother.

Even though he was a 3-star knight, he suddenly felt that the brother who couldn't even manifest mana might surpass him at any moment.

Gregory read Ernest's facial expression, seeing right through to his emotional state. Ernest's attacks were sharp, but their power was unrestrained due to his swayed emotions.

On top of that, such rapid attacks made his weaknesses more obvious.
Especially his lower half. With all his strength focused on his upper body, a low attack would pose a major threat.

Gregory swiftly retreated. Then, sliding in, he went for a low strike.

Ernest let out a scoff. He stabbed Gregory's wooden sword into the ground.

"You really think I'd fall for such a clumsy move?"

Ernest possessed fast reflexes and judgment, but as Gregory expected, he felt Ernest's skills were lacking. It may have been called a spar, but from the start, he'd underestimated him. However, to Gregory, Ernest was a friendly presence. Unknowingly, Ernest was correcting Gregory's posture.

'Still, I suppose this means he's got some talent. He absorbs things well.'

He gave pointers and pointed out flaws. If someone could incorporate this feedback, they'd grow. If not, they were hopeless. This was a habit Gregory had as a swordmaster in the order.

But this was the Ashborn family. Gregory realized he shouldn't do anything to harm his brothers anymore and decided to keep his mouth shut.
Still, with the ever-accelerating attack speed and improving posture, Gregory was, perhaps unconsciously, nudging Ernest toward finding his focal point.

'Was this the sapling that became an 8-star knight in my previous life...?'

By now, he'd identified his focal points fairly well, and his stamina must be approaching its limits. That should be enough.
If he now used proper mana control to stimulate the focal point, his improvement would be exponential.

That kid looked exhausted too, but he couldn't win. Not only had he freed himself from a curse, but if he knocked out a knight two ranks higher, he'd draw suspicion from the head of the house.

Gregory decided to end it here and weaken. On the contrary, getting hit and feeling pain would serve as physical training. For Ernest, who held his own, it would be mental training.

Ernest brought his sword low, then swung upward. Since Gregory was already on the ground, it was easy to act as if he'd taken the hit.

Argh—!

With an expression of pain, Gregory lay down, and Ernest pointed his wooden sword at Gregory's neck.

"Oh ho... you've improved a lot, haven't you?"

"Kugh, enjoy it while you can. Next time, I won't lose."

Inside, Gregory hoped Ernest wouldn't grow arrogant from beating a younger opponent. At this rate, he'd be caught up soon.

Oblivious to Gregory's thoughts, Ernest simply grinned and helped Gregory up.

***

A few days later.

Ernest, swinging furiously at a wooden mannequin, was out of breath.

Hoo—

He had finally reached the 4th class.
He'd been stuck at the 3rd class for months, but oddly, after sparring with Gregory and following his advice, he overcame his limits and grew.

Though it felt somewhat unsettling, Ernest started wielding his sword as usual.

'How the hell did that guy know about this...?'

***

Just as planned, now that he had found his focal point, Gregory focused on building up his physique through physical training. His once frail body was now covered in callouses and lean muscle.

Now it was time to relive the hellish hours of meditative training.

Again, he holed up in his room.
He figured no one would bother him this time. Surely, after being beaten so soundly, no one would harass a brother who was training.

It was a night with soft moonlight shining in through the window. When he opened it, a cool breeze flowed in.
Gregory was very fond of the moonlight.

For him, sunlight shone powerfully and brought hope. But moonlight, dripping in only a strand or two, was like a tiny hope that could be earned only by those who kept trying.

That was why he practiced mana control only in the evenings.

I can do this. Eager to quickly become stronger and take his revenge on the kingdom, Gregory began recalling the contents of the Forbidden Grimoire.

"All right... I'm ready for the pain."

Gregory sat down on the floor. As he closed his eyes and sat, the mana running through his body began to shine, and the ring around his heart started rotating rapidly.

Gregory focused all his senses, throughout his body. He let the flow run like water.

Just as when he first used the control technique, he took a deep breath and pulled the mana in the room into his mouth. If he could gather that mana into his lower abdomen and gradually inscribe it at his focal point, everything would change.

By now, mana was piled up throughout his body.
Gregory gathered his blood and mana into his heart. It was the same method he had used to break the curse for the first time. The mana began to touch each focal point. The mana engraved on these points began to react sensitively.

He had to finely adjust his blood flow for better body balance.

'Just a bit more. Just a bit more.'

The flow was gradually stabilizing, but suddenly, a wave of negative energy surged. A disturbed flow began to spread through his veins like a toxin.
Things weren't going as smoothly as he'd hoped. Twisted blood flow, breaths and heartbeat slowing.

Kuk—!

A groan forced its way out despite his clenched teeth.

Exploding mana sparkled as it swirled around him. Air was sucked forcefully through the window. His body greedily absorbed all the mana in the air.

'Kugh, so there is a side effect, after all. It was too easy up until now.'

He had to endure this. He had to overcome it. Calm down.

The most important thing was his heart. He absolutely couldn't allow it to stop and so focused all his awareness there.

As his body twisted and muscles lost power, his airway was being blocked. The thought, I could die. I might actually die, circled his mind.

Would someone who endured all that torture lose to this?

He mixed the ominous mana and the stable mana to temporarily stabilize his body. Otherwise, he truly would die.

This time, Gregory let out a crazed laugh.

Hahaha. Was that what the faded section of the grimoire alluded to?

Gritting his teeth through it, a strong stimulus hit his whole body, and the surging mana gradually receded.

He hadn't been able to stimulate all the focal points as much as he'd hoped...
But he had grown nonetheless.

When the meditation ended, his body felt transformed. His respiratory system had improved foremost. Although his insides felt soft, the muscles on the outside had become harder.
Breathing was easier, and his body felt lighter for sure.

And most importantly, the rings circulating his heart had increased to two. In other words, he had reached 2-star.

Gregory began to wonder about the side effects of the mana control technique in the Forbidden Grimoire. Just what sort of secret did this mad grimoire contain to be so incredibly vicious?

'If I'm not careful, this could be dangerous....'

He panted madly, overwhelmed by fear.
While he was catching his breath, a knock came at the door, followed by Ernest's voice.

Knock knock—

"Gregory, can I come in for a moment?"

What, was he here to thank me? He's got sharp instincts, recognizing his benefactor so quickly.

Gregory readily allowed him in.

"Come in."

Ernest opened the door and got straight to the point. But contrary to Gregory's expectation, he revealed that the head of the house was looking for Gregory.

"Father has something important to discuss with you. He told me to bring you."

"With me?"

'But why did Ernest come get me instead of Magnus?'

Seeing Gregory's puzzled expression, Ernest quickly realized and mumbled,

"Oh, uh, father told me to come too."

Gregory and Ernest entered the audience chamber.

The family head looked unlike his usual self. His appearance had changed somehow.

'Wait, did he shave off that long beard?'

Hemingway now looked even more imposing than before. For him to shave his beard meant he had made a big decision.
He spoke in a monotonous yet heavy voice.

"You're here."

Gregory and Ernest quickly straightened up and observed the proper etiquette.

The family head immediately noticed that they'd both gotten much stronger.

"I'm pleased to see your efforts. The time has come."

Ernest caught the nuance and asked again,

"Are you telling us to join the knights?"

Gregory's eyes grew round with shock. Join the knights, just like that?

He was still only sixteen. Who knew what kind of ordeal awaited in the knights.

In his past life, he'd joined the order and racked up achievement after achievement, but had still met his end through betrayal, leaving deep wounds of betrayal and loss.
As Gregory was about to refuse,

"The knight order—"

The lord raised a hand to interrupt.

"The enemy attacks are becoming severe."

Gregory thought back to the war between the Blandi Kingdom and the Arme Kingdom in his previous life. Since the lord looked so much younger than he had in Gregory's memories, he determined that this must be set before his own birth.

That meant war would soon break out.

The lord closed his eyes gently as he spoke.
He too did not wish for war to happen.

"Our family is famed for swordsmanship; we cannot withhold our talents."

Then he added,

"I'll give you your next task."

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
I was wondering why Ernest seemed weak when Gregory said he was strong...
Apparently he went back in time, so Ernest hasn't reach his potential yet...
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