SWNOVELXO Chapter 20 - Reality
✦ Chapter 20 — Reality ✦
「Translator – Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
The sun had yet to rise, casting the training grounds in a dim, pre-dawn light.
Isaac stood alone, his sword a blur of motion as he practiced his forms.
These predawn training sessions had become a daily ritual, a routine that helped clear his head and prepare him for the day ahead.
‘The scouting mission…’
The memory of Silverna’s request from the previous night surfaced unbidden in his mind.
She had asked him to join her scouting team. It meant facing real danger, venturing beyond the safety of the Wals, but he hadn’t hesitated to agree.
‘With my skills, wouldn’t I just end up being a burden?’
‘Combat ability isn’t the highest priority for a reconnaissance team. We’re not heading out to fight; we’re there to gather information and assess the situation. In that sense, Isaac, I hold your observational skills and judgment in high regard. This isn’t as odd a suggestion as you think.’
Her words had given him pause.
Isaac saw the logic in the proposal.
It was a chance to be of use, to contribute beyond the confines of the Wall. He was well aware that, like many other nobles, he lacked true experience in the crucible of real combat.
Participating in the scouting mission would give him valuable experience, allow him to get a feel for the flow of real combat.
‘Still… It’s a shame about the sword.’
He slowly lowered his weapon. It was a standard-issue sword, the kind given to common soldiers. House Helmund only dealt in greatswords, so he’d had to make do with what they’d given him upon his arrival.
Isaac let out a sigh, his breath forming a fleeting cloud of white in the crisp morning air.
And then, a towering figure emerged from the darkness at the edge of the training grounds.
Even in the pre-dawn gloom, there was no mistaking his identity, not with that imposing physique. It was…
Ulderan Caldias.
The Margrave himself was approaching.
Isaac straightened instinctively, offering a courteous bow, which Ulderan acknowledged with a mere wave of his hand. Without preamble, the giant of a man stood before him, a faint smile creasing his rugged face.
“I hear you’re out here training at the crack of dawn every day. Anna mentioned it—turns out she wasn’t exaggerating.”
“I still have much to improve, Margrave, so I push myself to keep pace with others.”
“When you’ve been at it as long as I have… you’ll understand that such humility becomes a burden.”
Isaac smiled faintly at the unexpected compliment.
Despite being hailed as the guardian of the North,
Ulderan rarely acted like the imposing figure he could be.
Considering his daughter’s easygoing nature, her ability to mingle effortlessly with common soldiers, it made sense.
“To be honest, the reason I came here was to talk to you.”
“To me”
“I hear Silverna’s been spending quite a bit of time with you. More than a bit, actually.”
“………”
Isaac froze, his face flushing as embarrassment sealed his lips.
What parent would be happy to hear that their daughter was sneaking off to visit a man, a married one at that, late at night?
“I was going to give her a good scolding. Usually, one of my famous head-knocks is enough to put anyone in their place.”
He raised a meaty fist, but his tone was light, almost playful.
“But then I saw her training late into the night yesterday. And I changed my mind.”
“………….”
“She’s improved tremendously. So much so that even I, her father, barely recognized her.”
A flicker of something unspoken passed through Ulderan’s eyes, a glimmer of pride shadowed by something deeper.
Ulderan’s gaze was filled with a complex mix of emotions.
“You must have helped her. The moment I saw her, I just knew.”
“May I ask why you believe that, Margrave?”
“It reminded me of Helmund.”
A playful grin spread across Ulderan’s face, his gruff demeanor softening.
“Not that she’s mimicking their swordplay, of course. It’s more that… those who are extraordinary become even more so under the right conditions. Watching her, I couldn’t help but think of Helmund.”
Whether in her past or her present, Silverna had always been like this. The slightest hint or fragment of guidance could trigger an almost meteoric improvement. Her actions often outpaced her thoughts—a rare and enviable trait.
“The traditions of Caldias—the lance meant for all—ended up holding her back. The moment she let her instincts guide her strikes instead of adhering strictly to our lance forms, I think she stopped seeing herself as confined by the school of Caldias.”
“…………….”
“To move forward is not to abandon, but to continue,’ or so they say,” Ulderan added with a chuckle. “She came to me brimming with excitement, babbling about the advice you’d given her.”
A genuine smile touched Ulderan’s lips. His warmth, his approachability, put Isaac at ease.
“My daughter owes you a debt,” Ulderan said. “For that, I thank you.”
“And I’ve learned much from her as well.”
The Margrave nodded, his gaze shifting toward the direction of his estate. He gestured with a broad hand.
“A northern warrior doesn’t simply express gratitude with words.”
“I beg your pardon?”
His grin widened as he pointed to Isaac’s sword with a casual tilt of his chin. “Come along. I’ve a collection of things that are of little use to me now but might be just what you need.”
“Looking at that sword of yours, I’d say you could use something better, wouldn’t you?”
“………….!”
Ulderan had noticed Isaac’s dissatisfaction with his current sword just by watching him train for a few minutes.
“Some say a true swordsman shouldn’t care about the weapon he wields. But you and I both know Helmund taught us better. Few places take their blades as seriously as they do.”
“Indeed, Margrave.”
“Ha! Once, I was set to spar with that brat Arandel, and—”
🎕
As the sun crept over the horizon, Isaac stood in the training yard, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
Silverna and Anna had gifted him a warm yeti-fur hat and gloves,
along with sturdy boots that provided excellent traction on the icy ground.
And a sword.
The weapon, a wide-bladed longsword named Falchion, hung at his hip, its craftsmanship unmistakably superior.
“You look like a true northerner now!”
Silverna chuckled, and Isaac shrugged.
The Falchion had come from Ulderan’s personal collection, a weapon of exceptional quality. Though not the exact style Isaac had envisioned for himself, it far surpassed the standard issue blade he’d used until now.
He was currently writing ‘Isaac’s Sword’ with a single-edged sword in mind, and the Falchion was a perfect fit.
“Haa… I’m sleepy…”
Just then, a familiar figure with bouncy pigtails trudged onto the training grounds.
Shauren Helmund.
She yawned as she approached them, her eyes still half-closed. It seemed the change in sleeping arrangements had taken its toll.
Shauren, a member of the scouting team assembled by Silverna, had been chosen solely for her skills. She had disregarded family ties, focusing purely on talent, creating a team she considered elite.
“Have either of you had breakfast yet?”
“Not yet. I figured we’d grab a spot to set up first, then eat.”
“I had some cookies.”
Isaac shook his head at the unimpressive responses and began unpacking the sandwich ingredients he’d brought from the dining hall earlier.
Spreading his cloak on the ground, he sat down and began assembling the sandwiches.
“It’s better to fill your stomachs before we head out. Who knows what might happen out there?”
At his urging, Silverna hesitated but eventually accepted the sandwich he offered.
“You’re right. I suppose I’ve been so tense, thinking about leading the team, that I wasn’t paying attention to the basics.”
“What about me?” Shauren asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t I get one?”
Isaac glanced at her and wordlessly handed over a sandwich he’d hastily put together.
“Honestly, I am not expecting much since you made it,” Shauren muttered, taking a bite. Her expression shifted immediately. “What the—? This is amazing!” In no time, she was devouring it with an almost feral hunger
“It’s just something I used to make when I worked as a ferryman. The trick is getting the jam-to-bread ratio just right.”
The sandwiches weren’t much, but years of trying to make even the simplest meals palatable had honed his skills.
“So, this is how you charmed her, huh?”
Shauren mumbled, crumbs clinging to her cheeks.
Isaac opened his mouth to retort, then sighed, deciding it was a lost cause.
“Yes, this is how I charmed her.”
Truth be told, back then, it had been an attempt to woo her. He could still remember the awkward lines and clumsy gestures, all born from his desire to get closer to her.
A memory equal parts sweet and mortifying.
“So, the sandwiches you used to charm Rianna with… you’re giving them to me now?”
Silverna stared at the sandwich in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Isaac hurriedly tried to explain himself.
“Don’t read too much into it! I’m just making sure we’re all fed, that’s all.”
“Sure, sure,” Silverna replied with a faint smirk, though she began eating her sandwich with an odd sense of care, as if it had suddenly gained a new significance.
🎕
Rianna’s morning arrived later than expected.
‘Haah,’ she sighed, the exhalation leaving a visible vapor trail in the chill air.
Her sleep had been troubled, plagued as it often was by nightmares. Her mornings usually begin later than others, but it didn’t matter; she was only posing as a maid, thus she could sleep late.
Sharing a room with other maids, however, was a novel experience — one she still found peculiar.
Rianna crouched down, checking underneath her bed – a simple wooden platform devoid of any cushions or comforts.
Beneath it lay her weapon, a greatsword wrapped tightly in bandages, its presence both steadfast and solemn as it waited for its owner.
Ragnabel.
Her greatsword. Her shadow.
Satisfied it remained untouched, Rianna quickly freshened up and stepped outside. She moved with practiced discretion, ensuring her form remained as concealed as the day before.
Stepping out of the servants’ quarters, the first thing she saw was the Malideen Wall soldiers, bustling about their duties.
A little further out, she spotted the nobles training on the grounds.
And beyond them, bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun, stood the Malideen Wall itself, an imposing symbol of strength and resilience.
‘It’s cold…’
The chill settled deep into her bones.
She felt restless, unused to this idleness.
It was the first time in her life she’d had nothing to do.
As the cold air nipped at her fingers, a memory surfaced, vivid and bittersweet.
A time before she and Isaac had gotten married…
“We spoke of the North that day.”
A serene, blue river stretched out before them, its surface unusually calm; they were spending some time on a boat, sitting face to face in a small ferry, enjoying the gentle rocking of the waves as they chatted and digested the sandwich they’d shared.
Their conversation had been so sweet; they hadn’t needed tea or sweets.
[When you’re in love, everything seems beautiful.]
Isaac had said it with a smile. Could he be right?
Is that why everything about you seems so perfect to me now?
But instead of voicing her thoughts, she had swallowed them whole, giving voice instead to a half-hearted protest.
‘What nonsense.’
[It’s true. There’s a reason people say love is magic.]
‘You’re being hopelessly unrealistic.’
[I think I’m being perfectly practical. When you’re with someone you love, everything—places, moments, even food—becomes better. That’s reality, isn’t it?]
She, having no experience with such feelings, could only deny his claims again and again, as though trying to convince herself of their absurdity. Yet the two had fallen into an easy rhythm, exchanging playful words like dueling fencers atop the gently swaying boat.
‘What about the North? It’s freezing up there.’
[Then we’ll just hold hands to keep each other warm.]
‘And the East? The humidity would drive us both mad.’
[“I’ll make you a cool drink. We can sit under the shade together.]
‘The rainy season? It’ll pour for weeks.’
[We’ll share one umbrella. My shoulder can get wet if it means keeping you dry.]
‘…Did you practice these lines somewhere?’
[Let’s just call it the power of love.]
He’d laughed, a little embarrassed by his own cheesiness.
He’d been so adorable back then – so earnest and sincere – she’d almost laughed out loud.
But then, the harsh reality of their situation would come crashing down.
Isaac, a commoner, a mere ferryman.
And Rianna Helmund, the daughter of a prestigious noble family.
The gap between them felt insurmountable. Her face would cloud over with doubt.
[What’s wrong-.]
‘Helmund.’
She’d met his worried gaze with a question of her own.
‘What about House Helmund?’
The cold of the North,
the heat of the East…
They paled in comparison to the harsh reality of her family; this time, she was certain, he wouldn’t have an answer. This time… he wouldn’t be able to soothe her worries with his charming words.
But then,
he had taken her hand gently, a soft smile gracing his lips.
[You will be there.]
‘…………!’
Rianna bit her lip, her head bowing low as her hair tumbled forward to shield her face. She couldn’t bear for him to see the storm of emotions painted across her features. Isaac, perceptive as always, didn’t press her further.
It had been a memory she couldn’t forget. A moment so tender yet unbearably humiliating that her face felt like it might burst into flame whenever she recalled it.
“Good thing I’m wearing a mask now.”
Returning to the present, she mumbled to herself, her cheeks burning.
The northern wind cooled her flushed cheeks as her wandering steps brought her to the training yard. There, she spotted Isaac, Silverna, and Shauren huddled together in the corner, eating sandwiches.
‘Isaac… and Silverna?’
The sight made her pause.
Her sister was there too, but Rianna didn’t pay her much attention.
Silently, she crept closer, careful to muffle her footsteps.
She didn’t need to get too close.
The famed physique of the Helmund came with sharp hearing as well as strength.
Shauren was the first voice she caught.
“Give me another one. This is delicious.”
“Make one yourself.”
“Tch! Fine, but I’ll make mine even better than yours!”
“It’s simple, but surprisingly delicious. I didn’t think a sandwich could taste this good.”
Silverna’s words sent a shiver down Rianna’s spine.
Sandwiches?
‘Isaac’s sandwiches?’
Her chest tightened.
Wasn’t that the meal they had shared during their riverside dates, the same sandwiches he’d made for her just this year on their anniversary?
“…………..”
A strange feeling stirred within her — a mixture of jealousy, hurt, and anger.
She recognized it, but she refused to name it.
‘He seems to have gotten close to the Caldias heir… Spending time with her even on the Wall…’ Rianna thought sullenly, as their conversation continued.
“Technically, it’s not quite the same as the sandwiches I used to make. Different ingredients, different preparation.”
“Oh? Are you saying you’re a bit of a sandwich connoisseur?”
“Naturally.”
“Mmm…”
It was difficult to hear properly over Shauren’s enthusiastic chewing, but the tension slowly began to ease from Rianna’s shoulders.
‘Of course… those sandwiches…’
The ones they used to share on the boat… they were special; there was nothing quite like them.
“Is it… the taste of love? Or something like that?”
Shauren, her cheeks smeared with jam, asked, her voice filled with the innocent curiosity of a seventeen-year-old.
Rianna allowed herself a faint smile. It was, wasn’t it? she mused silently. At least, back then, it had been true.
“Grow up, would you? Love has nothing to do with it. It’s jam and meat that make it taste good.”
“…………”
She’d been about to nod in agreement…
but Isaac’s words stopped her short.
She whipped around, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“There’s no such thing as the ‘power of love!’. Don’t let yourself get suckered into romantic nonsense!”
“Alright, alright! No need to yell! Stop shoving your face so close to mine!”
“This is reality! And marriage is—”
END of CHAPTER
☩
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