Wooong.
Cryde exuded confidence and bravado, his eyes blazing with red sparks.
His Berserker trait, not yet fully awakened, was lending him a fraction of its power.
"Not bad."
He's a perfect opponent to test my new skill.
I lightly tossed the last dagger with minimal force.
Swish!
The third dagger flew slower and weaker than the one infused solely with inner energy.
'Are you mocking me?'
'Talking about honor and throwing that feeble dagger?'
'Do it properly!'
Cryde's eyes screamed those questions at me.
Fwoom!
With destructive force from his Herculean Strength and Berserker traits, he swung at the incoming dagger, splitting the air with his momentum.
Shwing.
But the dagger, as if alive, veered out of his sword's path.
Like a fluttering butterfly or a falling leaf, it slipped through, evading capture, and burrowed into Cryde's guard.
"What!"
Cryde hurriedly swung his sword sideways, but the dagger, as if anticipating the move, dodged that too.
Thud!
"Urgh!"
The dagger glided in, striking Cryde's chest with its handle before falling to the ground.
"Ugh…"
It felt like a light tap, but Cryde was in agony. He collapsed, clutching his chest, unable to breathe.
I'd held back, but the inner energy in the dagger must've caused a strong internal shock.
"Hey, Cryde, what're you doing!"
"Going easy on the young master?"
"Cryde! If you're gonna half-ass it, get out!"
The spectators, watching from afar, thought Cryde was holding back. To them, it looked like he deliberately missed the slow, fluttering dagger.
"Yuren, what the hell did you learn?"
Unlike the crowd, the Marquis, watching closely, grasped the situation. His usual playful demeanor was replaced by deadly seriousness.
"It's not something to explain here."
"Then when?"
"I'll come to you tomorrow."
"Fine. You won the bet. We'll talk tomorrow."
Surprisingly, the Marquis accepted it without dragging it out and left the training ground.
"Urgh…"
I approached Cryde, still in pain, and absorbed the inner energy causing his suffering.
"Did you do something, young master? The pain's gone, and I feel… warm."
I just smiled without a word.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
"Um…"
Cryde hesitated before speaking.
"I'm sorry. When the dagger came slowly, I thought you were mocking me. But I was wrong. That was an exquisite technique beyond my imagination."
It's been a while since I got such honest praise.
"You couldn't have mastered such a skill in a month, so as I suspected, you've been hiding your strength."
"Huh?"
What's he talking about?
"Is some secret group targeting the Rox family? Is that why you hid your power?"
"Uh?"
Right, he loves conspiracy theories.
"No wonder I thought it was strange. All the Rox heirs are dragons among men, yet you seemed out of place. It was a noble sacrifice!"
He was crafting my backstory all on his own.
"And now, strong enough to face that group, you've revealed your power."
"Sigh…"
Listening to him was suddenly exhausting. His sudden friendliness felt weird.
No way.
[Creator's Eye activated.]
Just in case, I checked again.
[Name: Cryde]
[Traits: Berserker, Herculean Strength Lv1]
[Affection: 26 (Like)]
Holy crap, his affection jumped over 40 points in an instant. Typical Berserker—such a simple guy.
One spar, a bit of pain relief, and letting his imagination run wild, and his affection skyrocketed.
"If you need me to fight that secret organization, call me anytime! I'll give my life!"
Sure, there's a secret organization, but it's irrelevant now.
Still, it's a win. Befriending Cryde, who'll later wipe out a knight order single-handedly, is a coup.
Since his affection might keep rising on its own, I didn't correct his misconceptions.
His delusions continued as I headed back to the mansion. I could still hear his voice behind me.
"I'll spread the word! The young master's no wastrel! Trust me!"
"Good work."
"Thanks."
Arin stayed silent until we reached my room, then spoke.
"That last move was new."
"Yeah, new skill. What'd you think?"
She closed her eyes briefly, thinking, instead of answering right away.
"I ran a mental spar after seeing it."
"And?"
"If I faced it blind, I'd be dead. But now, I think I could block it."
She spoke bluntly, her expression unchanged.
"I see. Arin."
"Yes?"
"I have a question."
"Go ahead."
[Creator's Eye activated.]
[Name: Arin]
[Traits: Swift Sword Lv2, Clear Mind Lv1, Aura Adaptation Lv1]
[Affection: 28 (Like)]
Her affection went up again. How will she react now?
"Are you satisfied being my butler?"
She didn't respond, seemingly not grasping my meaning.
"What… do you mean?"
"You've trained as a knight since childhood. If you'd continued, you'd probably be a knight by now."
"Likely. The Marquis said I was ready."
"But you've barely trained lately."
Since I started training, Arin's been so busy tending to me that she's had no personal time.
"It's fine. It was my choice."
I'm not fine with it.
Her Swift Sword and Aura Adaptation traits are somewhat common, but Clear Mind is rare and powerful.
It lets her analyze and counter techniques after seeing them once. Same move doesn't work twice on her.
She said she could block Curved Shot because she saw it. She might not actually block it, but still.
Leaving her as just my butler is a waste of her talent.
"Be honest. Do you want to be a knight?"
Arin's lips twitched, but she couldn't answer easily.
"I'm meeting the Marquis tomorrow. Think it over and tell me by then."
"But…"
As she tried to speak, I cut her off.
"Of course, if you become a knight, you'll be my knight."
"Your knight?"
"Yeah. You're my butler, my person. So you'd be my knight."
I'm not handing talent like you to someone else.
"I see…"
She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them, her gaze steady as usual.
"Then I'll answer now. I…"
True to my word, I visited the Marquis's study the next day. I waited a while before being allowed in, as he was busy.
"You may enter."
I nodded to the butler and opened the door. Unlike the tidy study I'd seen before, books and papers were scattered everywhere.
"I greet the Marquis."
Arin, behind me, knelt and bowed respectfully to the Marquis, seated in his chair.
"You don't greet your father?"
"Hey."
"Tch, my fault for expecting more."
I greeted as he asked, and his face flushed.
"What were those techniques you used yesterday? I scoured the books, and there's nothing like them. Adjusting a throw's trajectory is common, but that intricate movement? Never seen or read about it."
He must've been digging through books since yesterday, trying to understand Curved Shot.
"You started training a little over a month ago. Even a prodigy couldn't master such a skill alone in that time."
"What if I'm the greatest genius ever?"
"Don't play games."
No joking today—his face was heavy with concern, likely worried I'd been ensnared by something sinister.
I mentally reviewed my prepared story.
"As you suspected, it's not ordinary. I'm no genius either. I found something special in the fourth training ground."
"Something special?"
"Yes. In the armory drawer with daggers and knives, I found a book under layers of dust and grime."
I rolled out the tale I'd planned.
The fourth training ground is rarely used, and the dagger drawer is so neglected it's caked in black dust. No one would question finding something there.
"A book?"
"Yes. Its cover was filled with star patterns and incomprehensible formulas."
"Hm…"
"I opened it without thinking, and something flooded into my mind. Then the book vanished."
"A grimoire!"
The Marquis, shocked, slapped the desk and stood.
"A grimoire?"
I feigned ignorance, though I knew full well.
"Yes. If it vanished upon opening, it's a grimoire—or a skill book."
"I see."
Of course I know. It's my own setting.
A grimoire is a book imbued with a master's techniques or magic, passed down with the aid of great wizards.
"After reading it, I understood how to throw daggers faster, stronger, and how to bypass defenses to hit targets."
"That makes sense for a grimoire. But…"
The Marquis looked uneasy.
"Who left it there? Grimoires are priceless. Even one for throwing could fetch enough at auction to let three generations live in luxury. Why leave it there?"
"Yeah, but dwelling on it won't solve anything. Let's just call it a lucky find."
There's no grimoire or owner to show up anyway.
"You're not worried at all. Still bold as ever."
"Naturally."
He chuckled, looking at my face.
"You won the bet, so I won't push swordsmanship anymore. With grimoire skills, you don't need it."
"Right."
"But one more thing."
"I'm listening."
"The world sometimes values appearances over skill. This is an era of swords. You might face lesser treatment. Other houses' knights won't respect you."
His words had merit. He was genuinely looking out for me.
"That's fine. I'll build a reputation with this power that no one can question. I'll crush those who underestimate me and stand above them."
"Crhahaha! You've truly changed. That's the spirit a Rox should have!"
My words lifted his mood, and his smile didn't fade.
"Now for the promise. What's your wish?"
I glanced at Arin, standing quietly behind me, before speaking.
"I…"