ISTV 38

ISTV

Posted by Ali, Released on August 4, 2025

It hadn’t even been three full years since Seila began learning swordsmanship, yet the fact that she had defeated Gulp spread rapidly, especially across the Eastern Continent.

“I heard Lady Seila’s swordsmanship is incredible.”

“It’s not just her skill—they say her poise and grace in handling her opponent were far superior too.”

“Who would’ve thought the youngest daughter of the Dvernon family would pull something like this off? Live long enough, and you’ll see everything.”

However, as time passed, fewer people took the rumors at face value.

“Come on, does that even make sense?”

“Exactly. No way that’s real.”

It was an implausible story by common sense.

“Didn’t the Beruck family let her win to save Sir Temanon’s reputation?”

“You mean he threw the match on purpose?”

Officially, Seila was a student of Temanon. So the idea that Gulp had lost deliberately… actually made more sense to many.

“But would the heir to the number one vassal family really throw a match just to protect his master’s reputation? Especially since she’s not even his true disciple.”

“Think about it. Who is Lady Seila? The daughter of Dvernon—the family of magic.”

“So?”

“If Sir Temanon personally trains someone like her, and she shows that kind of achievement, it proves something, doesn’t it? That a mage can reach that level under his instruction. And to make it convincing, defeating someone like the Beruck heir would do the trick.”

After suffering a humiliating defeat at Seila’s hands, Gulp became more devoted to swordsmanship than ever before.

He became much more serious about training, cutting down on sleep to hone his skills.

Temanon, impressed by his efforts, gifted him a level-two swordsmanship secret manual that suited his physique and talent. This only fueled the conspiracy theories.

“Gulp was never taught Queibek-style swordsmanship before, was he? Why now? Doesn’t that prove this was all arranged by the higher-ups?”

Seila was well aware of these rumors spreading.

‘I knew it would happen.’

People only see what they want to see, believe what they want to believe.

As long as she was born into the Dvernon family, no amount of effort would be fairly acknowledged in the land of swordsmen.

‘Ugh, this is so damn frustrating!’

The injustice of it could make her bolt awake at night, but Seila calmed herself with reason.

‘Think logically. This actually works out better for me.’

Swordsmen were aggressive by nature, always eager to test their strength.

If word spread that Seila was truly strong, she’d be swarmed with sparring requests.

Even if they were “just” spars, they were dangerous for her.

‘One unlucky slip and I could die.’

Unless she was being outright insulted, it was best not to put herself in risky situations.

‘Focus on survival.’

With that mindset, she finished another training session. Temanon, impressed, let out a sigh of admiration.

“Seila. How are you already so mature? Are you truly not bothered at all?”

“No, I’m really fine.”

“I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night thanks to all the nonsense going around about you.”

Seila smiled warmly at his fatherly concern.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I just thought—for a moment—you felt like a father to me.”

“…What?”

“Apologies if that was rude.”

Temanon stood there with his mouth wide open, hands trembling as he muttered, “D-did she just call me father?” But Seila, busy wiping sweat from her forehead with a white handkerchief, didn’t notice.

After she sheathed her sword, she asked,

“But Master, how was I able to fight like that on that day?”

“Good question. I’ve looked into it myself since then, but… I don’t know either.”

The day of the duel with Gulp, Seila had displayed skills far beyond her norm.

Even she hadn’t expected to perform so overwhelmingly.

She remembered feeling an immense power surge through her mana circuits, but hadn’t been able to recreate that sensation since.

‘What on earth was that?’

She still didn’t know.

Meanwhile…

Arsagil, the Mistress of the Secret Palace, usually roamed the slums wearing rags.

No one could recognize her based on appearance alone.

But now, Arsagil had returned to the Secret Palace.

Seraph, the palace steward and de facto second-in-command, was overwhelmed with emotion.

The Mistress didn’t run away this time!

She asked with a tearful tone,

“What made you change your mind?”

“Just… someone annoying.”

“You mean Lady Seila, perhaps?”

“…”

The Mistress said nothing.

“But the last time you left, you took so many things from the palace vault. Why?”

“That’s none of your business.”

But Seraph wasn’t so easily silenced.

“You took the great needle made of dragon bone, didn’t you? The one you spent ten years collecting.”

“…”

“You know how much that’s worth, right? Did you sell it? I trust you got a good price. Lately, there are many departments begging for budget increases, Mistress.”

“There will be no budget shortage. I’ll give you more funding than ever before. Within three years.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Secret Palace has decided to become wealthy now.”

“R-really?!”

Seraph was of celestial blood, and when excited, wings would sprout from her back.

Her newly sprouted wings fluttered excitedly, scattering sparkling feathers.

The sight was quite divine.

“Are we really going to be rich? No more belt-tightening? No more suffering from budget cuts, Mistress?!”

“Yes.”

“Is it okay if I love you?”

The Mistress said nothing and returned to her room.

Seraph followed her closely, chattering about how much budget was needed for various projects.

“Oh right, Mistress. While cleaning your desk, I found something curious.”

Delighted by the prospect of a windfall, Seraph floated a little in the air, her wings fluttering gently.

A series of question marks seemed to appear above her head.

“It was about some trait, I think? Something like ‘Life is Combat’? Kind of? Very much? Really very much? What was it? Do you need help with that research?”

“It’s nothing. That research is finished. Discard it.”

Left alone, the Mistress chuckled to herself.

How is it, Seila? Do you like your new trait?

Judging by how she’d completely overwhelmed Gulp, the palace treasures were well spent.

The trait, [Life Is Combat], once acquired, would allow Seila to grow much stronger in real-life battles.

The Mistress ground her teeth.

No one touches my little sister. No one.

If anyone’s going to hit her, it’ll be me—not some stranger.

Learning swordsmanship turned out to be much more fun than expected.

Come to think of it, Steward Taekan’s basic training really helped a lot.

Even Master Temanon had complimented her several times on her solid fundamentals, and it always made her happy.

Now, with her eyes closed and focused, she could feel the flow of mana inside her body.

“You’ve fully stepped into the 1-star level now.”

“Yeah. You’re getting harder and harder to beat.”

Both Seila and Hamune were drenched in sweat.

Temanon, watching their sparring, clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“You’re both improving by leaps and bounds. Excellent!”

His praise always made Seila’s heart flutter.

“At this rate, Seila will reach 2-star in no time.”

“It’s all thanks to Hamune and you, Master.”

“No, it’s thanks to your own effort. Hahaha! You’ve been enjoying it more lately, haven’t you?”

“Yes. It’s fun. But keeping up with Hamune isn’t easy.”

“That child’s held a sword since birth. You’re doing great, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Hamune laughed sheepishly.

Since his coming-of-age ceremony, he’d been growing rapidly, becoming more and more dependable.

Just as his character was designed—to be a sweet, emotionally unhinged male lead—Hamune had grown even more affectionate, often making Seila’s heart feel warm and fuzzy.

“Honestly, I’m learning so much thanks to you. You give me a lot of inspiration, Seila. You’re a really great…”

He always tried to say something kind to her.

Even now, he seemed to be carefully choosing his words.

Companion? Rival? Ally? None of those sounded quite right.

He was definitely overthinking it.

Seila smiled and offered a simple word.

“Friend.”

“…Hmm. Friend?”

Hamune was the type who held words like “friend” and “friendship” in high regard.

He was bound to like it—wait. Or not?

Why does he look… displeased?

That was odd. It didn’t match his usual character behavior.