“Come now! A hundred upper swings, a hundred mid-sweeps, and a hundred thrusts! Let’s go!”
“L-Let me rest… I just finished running!”
“What are you saying, Lord Van? Resting comes later. Let us practice together!”
He’s no swordsman—he’s a demon!
I somehow managed to get through the swings without bursting into tears, then plopped myself down in a chair to rest.
Dee suddenly lit up. “I have a great idea, Lord Van! Resting is such a bore, is it not? Try taking your breaks in a seated position without using the chair!”
No, he isn’t a demon. He’s just stupid. How is that resting? You big dummy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the energy to even complain, so I just hung my head.
Just like that, a year went by. Now six years old, I barely ever lost to the boys in soldier training. There was quite the size difference between a six-year-old and someone who was twelve or thirteen. My partners’ range and build surpassed mine, and they had the upper hand in strength and speed. But when it came to observation, reflexes, and knowledge? Well, the boys tried copying my strategies, but they had a long way to go.
You see, the knights prioritized speed and power—they had no concept of a feint. A knight with fast swings could force an opponent to block high, then strike at their waist in a flurry of blows. A powerful knight could restrict their opponent’s attack window, then bring their sword down from above. That sort of thing.
Right when my partners were poised to strike, I’d pull back or move diagonally and lead them around by the nose. As they swung and missed, it opened them up for the perfect counterattack. Kids weren’t good with strategies that required patience, so I took my time dealing with my opponents. The ones who came at me with sequential attacks subconsciously braced themselves for a block or a parry. I’d let them miss once or twice to break their rhythm.
Opponents who prioritized brute force were all about range and surprise attacks. When they thought they could land a hit, they would put an excess amount of power behind their biggest swings. Those were easy enough to dodge. As for the surprise attacks, they came in three forms: a rare sweep at the legs, an upward slash from below, and a strike from behind after circling from the front.
Being both short and clumsy on my feet, I wasn’t an easy target. The “first strike” rule also worked to my advantage. While my days may have been hellish, they were nonetheless enriching.
One day, Till flashed me her usual smile and said something wholly unexpected. “You’ve grown so mature as of late, my lord. You’re book-smart, a sword savant… You might very well surpass all of your brothers to become the next head of the family!”
My breath caught in my throat at that. I’d learned from Esparda that the world of nobility was a vicious one. Only the strong survived. Unfortunately, the same principle held true among myself and my brothers.
Becoming the next head would completely change our course in life. Money, status, honor, power… Whoever took up the mantle of marquis would inherit it all. Being second best would mean nothing. If we were close, it might be possible to serve the head as an underling, but most noble children who failed to secure their parents’ title left the house for good.
It was not unheard of for blood to be spilled over inheritance. All too often, a younger brother would surpass his elder brother to become head of the family. Nothing fueled an older sibling’s rage more than their status being snatched away right under their nose. To prevent this, noble heirs would murder whichever sibling looked to be the most likely candidate for the spot.
Unfortunately, I had very few interactions with my brothers. If anything, Jard and Sesto made sure to turn away from me whenever our eyes met. We certainly were not close. Murcia frequently showed up at the soldiers’ training grounds, so I had at least exchanged greetings with him, but who knew what would happen in the future?
Setting aside my candidacy for marquis, my odds of getting snuffed out would go up the more I stood out from the rest. I had already garnered too much attention—this was not good. During my strolls through the castle, the maids, butlers, and guards would go out of their way to say hello. From my brothers’ perspective, I probably looked like a little brat getting a big head.
I had to do something.
“Hey, Till?”
“Yes? What is it?” she asked, smiling warmly.
“I want to play outside.”
“Huh?”
I’d made my choice: I would become a man who lived for fun. I’d goof around until I was level twenty!
The carriage swayed to and fro as it rolled down the path. It was a sturdy vehicle, large enough to comfortably hold six people. The interior was brown and white with red accents. Gazing out the window, I saw all the hustle and bustle of the city. Wooden buildings and a stone structure akin to a church were within view. Horses and carriages traveled every which way. As far as I could tell, there were no elves or demihumans to be found, only regular humans.
I never got tired of seeing merchants or knights. I assumed that the guys wandering around in old clothing or robes were sexual deviants. Dang pervs were walking around with grins.
Till, who’d been gazing out the window along with me, broke the silence. “Where would you like to go, my lord?”
“I want to visit a big store,” I blurted out.
“A big store…” She looked upward, thinking. “Then shall we visit the Mary Chamber of Commerce? It’s an enormous company with locations all across the kingdom. You can get just about anything in one of their stores.”
“Ooh, that sounds great! You sure know a whole lot, Till.”
“Hee hee.”
Till giggled and bashfully poked her tongue out. Satisfied, I turned back to the window. Hawkers called out to passersby, and the citizens laughed loudly among themselves. The world outside was brimming with life and vigor.
I enjoyed some more people-watching, and soon the carriage came to a stop.
“We’ve arrived, sir.”
The driver’s tone was a bit curt, but given the way he kept his head bowed low, he probably just wasn’t used to dealing with nobility.
I smiled at him. “Thank you.”
The man scratched his jaw and nodded his head repeatedly. “Of course. Uh, right this way.”
He opened the door for us, and Till got out first so that she could take me by the hand. Normally these things were supposed to be the other way around, but maybe an onlooker would’ve seen her as an older sister helping her little brother.
After I disembarked from the carriage, the two knights who’d followed behind on our journey lined up on either side of us. I made sure to thank them.
I peered up at the large stone building in front of us. And when I say large, I mean huge. If I were to describe it in terms of modern-day Japan, I would’ve likened it to a supermarket. It was two floors tall, so perhaps more like a gymnasium. The big double doors were wide open, and the window frames were intricately designed, lending it all a very classy feel. I was quite the fan.
Before I could step inside, an angry shout sounded from the main street.
“Get your ass over here!”
The speaker clearly had no intention of hiding their scorn, so I whirled around to gawk. A man on the other side of the street was yanking a rope while he walked. On closer inspection, a heap of dirty old rags was moving at the end of the rope. I squinted to get a better look—and discovered that this heap was in fact a human child. Certainly older than me, though.
When the man noticed our eyes on him, he took a fearful step back. Face flushing, he scowled at us. “Wh-what’re you looking at? This ain’t no show!”
Our two knights reached for the hilt of their swords. Despite clearly being afraid, the man didn’t back down, and I could feel the atmosphere growing heavy.
Looking to dissolve the tension, I said, “Hey, why do you have that child on a rope?”
His brow furrowed. “Came here to sell him on the slave market.”
I glanced at Till, who then made a complicated expression. “Is that boy yours?” she asked him.
“Er, yeah! He’s my son and he carries my debt, so I’m sellin’ him. Got a problem with that?” The man spoke as if it were obvious, jabbing a finger at the child behind him.
“Your debt?” I echoed, puzzled.
Till stepped in to explain, her voice heavy with sadness. “According to the law, there are only two recognized reasons for someone to be sold into slavery: when they’re in deep debt, or when they’ve committed a crime. That being said, there’s a long history of poor families selling off their hungry children in exchange for living expenses. It works via transfer of debt, getting around the laws even though they’re just kids.”
Everyone around us looked on with cold stares. The fact that no one else said anything or looked remotely upset spoke to how ingrained this slavery system was. People here were used to this.
Someone else spoke up then. “Well, if it isn’t the marquis’s son!”
The voice belonged to a woman in her thirties who emerged from inside the store. She’d greeted us, but how did she know I was part of the marquis’s family?
I tilted my head and looked to Till for clarification.
“Right you are, ma’am! This is the famous prodigy, Lord Van Nei Fertio! For proof, look no further than his crest!” Till declared with a nod, pointing at my back.