Chapter 48.3: I Love You
Armored Dragon Calendar Year 418 – Claude, Age 13
[Claude POV]
The dojo was not what I expected.
Hidden in a quiet district away from the city's main thoroughfares, it occupied a converted warehouse that showed no external indication of its purpose.
No sign. No students practicing in visible courtyards.
Just a nondescript building with heavy doors and windows that revealed nothing.
Charles,the Arbalest operative who handled Millis Continent operations,walked beside me. He was older than me by nearly a decade.
Carrying himself with the practiced calm of someone who had learned to navigate dangerous situations.
"The Water God prefers privacy," he explained. "Most people don't know this place exists."
"She trains here when she wants to avoid the political complications of the main schools."
"And she agreed to meet us here..."
"After considerable negotiation." He smiled slightly.
"The compensation we offered was substantial, but I think her curiosity was the deciding factor. She's heard stories about you, Commander."
"What kind of stories?"
"The kind that make elderly sword masters want to see for themselves."
We approached the heavy doors. Charles knocked in a specific pattern,three quick raps, a pause, two more.
The sequence was answered by movement inside.
The door opened.
She was younger than the memories suggested.
The thought struck me before I could process what I was seeing. Fragments of knowledge from other lives pressed against my awareness,impressions of the Water God's granddaughter, details that didn't quite match the reality before me.
Isolte Cruel stood in the doorway, blue hair catching the morning light, expression carrying the careful neutrality of someone trained to reveal nothing accidentally. She wore practical training clothes, a sword at her hip, and the posture of someone who knew exactly how dangerous she was.
My heart stuttered.
The sensation was unexpected. Unwelcome.
Something I couldn't name.
Is this what they call love at first sight...
The thought was absurd. I was thirteen years old.
I had survived a nightmare dungeon, built an organization that spanned kingdoms, faced monsters that shouldn't exist. I didn't have time for romantic complications.
And yet.
Inside me, something stirred with confusion.
Something baffled pressed against my awareness—disoriented by emotions that didn't fit any combat framework. No threat present. No reason for the physiological response.
Something cooler attempted to process. Systematic but inadequate, reaching for logic that couldn't explain attraction. The sensation trailed off, unable to complete its analysis.
And from somewhere deeper, something older recognized what was happening. Ancient, weighted with loss. It had felt this before. From someone else's life. A warning without words.
Isolte's eyes met mine. Curiosity moved across her expression,
Or recognition of a fellow practitioner.
"You're the one," she said. "The young Sword Saint."
"I'm Claude." The words came out rougher than intended.
"I'm here to meet with your grandmother."
"She's inside." Isolte stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter. "She's been waiting."
The interior of the dojo was spare but elegant.
Wooden floors polished by decades of practice. Walls lined with weapons,some decorative, some clearly functional.
A training space in the center, large enough for serious sparring. And at the far end, seated on a simple cushion, the Water God herself.
Reida Reia was old. Ancient, by most standards.
Her hair had gone completely silver, her face lined with decades of experience, her posture carrying the weight of a lifetime spent in service to the sword.
But age had only refined her. Every movement was precise, economical, deliberate.
Her eyes were sharp,sharper than they had any right to be, holding an intensity that made me feel uncomfortably exposed.
She was, I realized, exactly what she was supposed to be. A master.
A legend. One of the seven great powers.
"Water God Reida Reia," Charles began the formal introduction, "I present—"
"I've taken an interest in your granddaughter and wish to court her. Can I have the opportunity to do so..."
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Silence.
The silence stretched like a taut bowstring. I watched Reida's expression shift from mild curiosity to sharp-eyed wariness.
Beside her, Isolte bloomed crimson from her collar to her hairline.
She looks lovely when she's embarrassed, I thought. A part of me was horrified at the observation.
Another part couldn't look away.
"Wa... wait, Master Claude, this is different from what we discussed before."
Charles's voice carried barely controlled panic. I felt a flash of sympathy for him,he had prepared for a formal negotiation, not whatever this was.
"Um..." I scrambled to recover.
"Can we have a small conversation first... In the restaurant ahead, please..."
The damage control felt clumsy on my tongue. But Charles immediately moved to support the suggestion.
Patting his chest in visible relief before gesturing for the ladies to follow.
Reida stepped smoothly between me and Isolte, creating a protective barrier around her granddaughter. I trailed behind them with poorly concealed disappointment.
Stealing glances at Isolte when I thought no one was watching.
When our eyes met by accident, I offered her a gentle smile. She blushed even deeper and quickly looked away.
How utterly enchanting.
The restaurant was a modest establishment nearby. The kind of place that attracted regular customers rather than curious visitors.
Charles finished ordering drinks while I gathered my composure. The diplomatic training that felt both familiar and foreign,another gift from lives I had never lived,rose to the surface.
"I apologize for that sudden outburst earlier." I bowed my head slightly, allowing genuine contrition to color my voice.
"Please, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Claude from Arbalest, and my companion is Charles, the head of Arbalest's Millis Continent Branch."
"So," Reida's voice cut through the air, sharp as winter wind. "What brings Claude and Charles to visit me in this... colorful city..."
I straightened, meeting her gaze directly. "Forgive my earlier outburst, Water God."
"But since fate has brought us together, I should mention that we anticipated finding you here."
"You see, I am a Miko,one who can glimpse fragments of what's to come."
Her eyebrows arched with skeptical amusement. "A Miko... how interesting."
"And you expect me to believe that a child who should already be a Sword Saint also possesses prophetic abilities?"
The casual assessment of my skills sent a chill down my spine. I had expected doubt about the Miko claim.
But her ability to perceive my true sword rank suggested depths I hadn't anticipated.
"I'm impressed by your insight!" I allowed genuine surprise to leak into my voice.
"Though I confess, I may have... embellished the Miko aspect somewhat."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then what's your real purpose here... speak quickly."
"I have business to attend to with my disciple."
I gestured toward Charles. "The specifics of our proposal fall under Charles's jurisdiction."
"This is his negotiation to conduct."
What followed was the careful dance of diplomacy.
Charles explained Arbalest's need for backing. The reality that we couldn't operate freely in Millis without the umbrella of recognized power.
In exchange for the Water God's name and protection, we offered compensation and access to our intelligence network. The protection wasn't just symbolic. The mere association with one of the world's acknowledged powers would make noble troublemakers think twice before moving against us.
"I appreciate your honesty about the five-year term," Reida mused, "but I'm curious about the limitation. Why not permanent partnership..."
"If our projections are accurate," Charles replied, "within five years, Arbalest should be a force to be reckoned with independently. At that point, we hope to transition from protection to partnership."
"Such confidence. Is it based on the young Sword Saint beside you..."
"Master Claude is certainly central to our success, being our founder and guiding vision."
Wait,we never discussed revealing that detail. My carefully maintained mysterious persona felt like it was crumbling in real-time.
Charles noticed my expression and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Master Claude."
"Lady Reida had already deduced your leadership role."
"Perceptive indeed," Reida acknowledged.
"Good cooperation is built on trust," Charles quoted. "That's what Master Claude taught us. I chose to honor that principle."
I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of exposed leadership settling on my shoulders. Still, I managed a playful wink at Isolte, who blushed and glared at me in response.
She was absolutely adorable when flustered.
"Hmm." Reida's contemplation stretched several heartbeats.
Her gaze shifted to Isolte, and some silent communication passed between them. "If you're truly sincere about this partnership, let's test your capabilities."
"A spar with my disciple. Impress me, and I might consider allowing you to... pursue your romantic interests."
"Grandma!" Isolte's protest came with a sharp bang on the table.
"I accept," I replied immediately. "Let's find an appropriate space,perhaps the alley beside this restaurant..."
The alley provided adequate room for combat without drawing unwanted attention.
Reida positioned herself as judge, her experienced eye measuring distances and escape routes with professional efficiency.
"This location suits our needs," she observed. "I suspect you'd planned to request a demonstration regardless of how our conversation proceeded."
I scratched my cheek sheepishly. "You see through me entirely."
"Sneaky brat."
I took my position at one end of the alley while Isolte prepared at the other.
The familiar weight of my sword settled into my palm. Muscle memory from countless iterations guiding my stance.
Against Water God style, I knew to expect defensive patterns and counter-attacks rather than aggressive openings.
At least, that's what the fragmented memories suggested.
"Both fighters ready..." Reida's voice carried authority.
"Combat begins on my count."
"Three..."
I shifted into an offensive stance, anticipating Isolte's defensive positioning.
"Two..."
Isolte's form was textbook perfect. Every line of her body spoke to years of disciplined training.
"One..."
The count reached zero, and I moved forward with measured aggression,
Only to find Isolte's blade already cutting through the air toward me. Her supposed defensive style abandoned for a lightning-fast offensive that caught me completely off-guard.
The memories, it seemed, failed to account for individual variations within the Water God school.
I stumbled backward, barely deflecting her strike. She pressed the advantage with a triumphant grin, already preparing her follow-up.
Then I cast a fireball from my position.
"What...!" The magical assault originated from my sword itself,a technique I had developed during the dungeon, channeling spells through my blade rather than my hands.
Through the settling dust, I emerged behind a shimmering barrier, sword extended.
"Fascinating," I commented. "A defensive specialist taking the offensive... how refreshingly unexpected."
A second fireball screamed toward Isolte. She managed to deflect the first using Flow technique, redirecting its trajectory into the alley wall. But the second caught her unprepared.
The explosion sent her tumbling across the cobblestones.
"Ugh!"
I approached with deliberate slowness. "If you're already exhausted, perhaps you should stay down, princess."
"I'm certain you realize you can't defeat me."
"Damn it..." Isolte gasped, using her sword as a crutch.
"You're awfully ruthless for someone who just declared his love for me."
Despite my apparent romantic interest, priorities had shifted. The memories of my other incarnations pressed against my consciousness.
Accumulated pride and strategic thinking overriding emotional attachments. I might recognize Isolte as significant, but sentiment couldn't override the need to demonstrate capability.
"Very well," I continued. "Since you've regained your stance, allow me to properly introduce myself."
My posture shifted into the aggressive form of the Sword God style.
"I am Claude of Arbalest, creator of the Cloud Style." My voice carried formal weight.
"It's my pleasure to meet you, disciple of the Water God."
Then I attacked.
What followed was systematic.
Not just combat,a lesson. Each strike designed to expose a specific flaw in her technique.
"Your redirections lack conviction. " I observed as her desperate parry sent my blade sliding past her guard.
"You're afraid of the force."
To prove my point, I launched the same attack again. When Isolte's Flow activated, I adjusted mid-strike, following my blade's new trajectory.
"Predictable. You're using Flow as a crutch instead of a tool."
The lesson continued with relentless precision. I demonstrated weaknesses, allowed her to attempt corrections, then immediately exploited whatever new openings her adjustments created.
"Your breathing is wrong. You're holding your breath during difficult sequences."
"Your stance widens when you're tired. Telegraphing exhaustion."
Each observation was accompanied by a controlled strike that she barely managed to deflect. I was pushing her limits,past them, even,without actually causing serious harm.
Inside me, something offered quiet commentary.
Something satisfied approved of the methodology. Efficient. Educational. Warriors were forged through challenge, through controlled failure, through learning that had consequences.
Something methodical catalogued her responses. She was learning, adapting. The pace of improvement suggested significant potential.
Something cautious noted the rest. The line between teaching and cruelty was thinner than it seemed.
I caught her thrust on my crossguard and twisted, disarming her with casual efficiency.
Her sword hit the cobblestones. Clatter.
"And that," I said, pressing my blade gently against her throat, "is why you should never commit to an attack unless you're certain it will land."
"What... sparring..." she managed between gasps. "Damn it... you were toying with me!"
I stepped back, lowering my weapon. The match was clearly concluded.
"To think my disciple could be handled so thoroughly by someone her own age. " Reida mused.
"Truly astounding."
"You're too kind, Water God."
"Don't look so satisfied." Her eyes gleamed with something that made me suddenly wary.
"It's my turn now."
The attack came without warning.
Some instinct screamed danger, and I employed Flow instinctively,redirecting a sudden assault from behind.
BAM!
"How strange," I said, studying Reida with new respect, "seeing the Water God employ Sword God techniques."
Longsword of Silence. I recognized the advanced technique.
A variant of the Longsword of Light where the blade moved faster than sound itself.
"Don't look so surprised. Age hasn't dulled my edge entirely." She grinned. "I'm still a Sword King, you know."
She attacked again. Even within my accelerated perception, her assault came uncomfortably fast.
I launched spells,wind spear, water ball, fireball,hoping to create space.
"Remarkable casting speed," Reida acknowledged, but her Flow technique reversed and amplified the spells, sending them back at me with increased velocity.
My own magic hemmed me in from three directions. The narrow alley that had seemed tactically sound became a trap.
Why the hell did I choose an alley for this fight...
I berated myself, even as I committed to the only available option.
I charged directly toward her, accepting the disadvantageous engagement.
"Brave boy," Reida acknowledged.
Even within my accelerated perception, she somehow countered with one of the Water God style's secret techniques.
I found myself pinned, her blade at my throat.
"I surrender," I managed.
"That should teach you what happens when you bully my adorable granddaughter." She punctuated the words with a sharp rap of her sword's pommel against my skull. "Try anything like that in the future, and you can expect considerably more pain."
"Ow." I rubbed my head ruefully.
"Well then, I suppose I've earned approval from the grandparents."
Reida's expression shifted,just slightly,into something that might have been amusement.
"You'll do," she said. "For now."
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
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