Count Floyd’s household was a descendant of a war-hero founding noble with a fairly large territory near the capital. In my previous life, it had remained a neutral force until the civil war had escalated, and for some reason, joined the Second Prince’s faction, thus walking the path towards its downfall.

As the war turned in favor of the First Prince’s faction toward its end, the Floyd family was made an example of and was wiped out by the other nobles, who were watching and waiting for an opportunity.

And at its last stand, there was an incredible rumor that the family’s young lady, barely of age, had barricaded the inner fortress door and cut down a hundred knights.

Eileen Floyd, a female knight born in the wrong era, and even the wrong country.

Given Grandia Kingdom’s views on the status of women, her story became even more infamous.

Her end, after the civil war, became a song spread through the lips of poets and bards across the kingdom.

“A variety of stories had been created and spread about her.”

Of course, most of these stories were tragic love tales based on her.

Yet, her last moments undoubtedly shocked the people of Grandia.

And Logan was now witnessing with his own eyes that the rumors of her previous life were not entirely without merit.

Considering her young age, the level she had reached was not easily achieved.

Furthermore, considering the difficult circumstances for a noble lady to dedicate herself to swordsmanship training…

“She might have a talent not inferior to Rhonian or Victor.”

Logan had come to this engagement meeting expecting to pass the time and then leave, but unexpectedly he had come across a real talent.

Curiosity and regret swirled in Logan’s eyes.

“There’s only a few months left until the civil war restarts. An engagement is meaningless.”

If it were marriage instead of an engagement, he could use it as a pretext to tie this talent to the Maclaine family.

However.

Considering they had just met, planning a marriage in just a few months was an impossible tale within the nobility of Grandia.

“I don’t have any particular talent for seducing women.”

There was no immediate way to bring this talented lady into the Maclaine family.

“…Such a pity.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, no, my apologies, Lady. Just talking to myself… sorry.”

“…It’s alright.”

“…”

“…”

An awkward silence weighed heavily upon them.

“Hmm, maybe we could start with a cup of tea…”

“Ah, yes, that would be… good…”

“…”

“…”

Forced conversation attempts continued, but the silence lingered.

Finally, Logan sighed and spoke.

“It seems like you didn’t really want to be here either, Lady.”

“Excuse me?”

“Since I’m in the same situation, shall we come to an agreement and leave this place?”

Her expression changed subtly at his words.

“You’re suggesting we don’t waste any more of our meaningless time?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Hmm. Then, how about we make the time meaningful?”

“Excuse me?”

The sudden shift from understanding to interest took Logan by surprise.

It was as if she was pleased by the idea of not wasting time.

It also felt as if she was proposing this with the intention of enticing him in return.

If that was the case, there might be a sliver of possibility.

“…What do you mean by meaningful time?”

Thump, thump.

Hiding his anticipation, Logan looked at Eileen.

“I hear you’re a disciple of the Sword Saint. Would you be willing to spar with me?”

“Excuse me?”

Caught off-guard by her unexpected proposal, Logan could only chuckle inwardly.

“The fact that I can’t gauge your level even knowing you’re a student of the Sword Saint leads me to think you must be more skilled than I am. Would a spar be… troublesome for you?”

The proposition was unforeseen, but that was what made it fresh and interesting.

Looking at the eagerness in Eileen’s expression, Logan nodded with a smile.

“Very well. A sparring match with someone of your young age and talent is also a welcome challenge for me.”

* * *

“Mistress!”

Laila, the maid who had been taking care of Eileen for a lifetime, was anxiously tugging at her sleeves.

Startled, Eileen turned her head towards Logan, who was a little ahead.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to overhear.

“Keep your voice down! He might hear you!”

“Argh, that’s not the problem, Mistress! The Count specifically ordered you not to do this. Why are you acting this way? I can’t handle this.”

“It’s different now! This is an official spar. Laila, don’t you trust me?”

Eileen was assertive, but Laila was adamant.

“I can’t trust you. How am I supposed to trust you, Mistress? Oh dear, really.”

Pfft.

Somewhere far away, a laughter trying to be suppressed could be heard.

“Keep it down, I told you!”

Red-faced, Eileen yelled, but Logan’s situation up front was not much different.

“Master! Sparring with a lady? You can’t possibly be serious! That’s absolutely not allowed!”

Even amidst urgency, Rick’s voice was a whisper, and his expression was desperate.

“Don’t laugh at me! If a rumor spreads that you’ve hit a woman in a spar, Lord Maclaine will have my head. Please, by no means, you can’t. You understand, right?”

With genuine distress in his voice, Logan responded with a wry smile and nodded.

“No such thing will happen, don’t worry.”

If this young lady’s swordsmanship is half as good as the power she supposedly wields, no rumors would start.

Although Logan thought this, Rick let out a sigh of relief without understanding.

And fortunately, Eileen’s actions made sure no such rumors would surface.

– If a rumor spreads, it would be troubling.

Following Eileen’s request, Logan opened up a private training ground he only used under his master’s instruction.

The guarding knight looked at them with curiosity, but Logan did not satisfy his intrigue.

His own interest was solely in witnessing the true skills of this lady, famed only after her death.

‘And perhaps… this could be an opportunity.’

Maintaining a poised demeanor while preparing for the spar, a high-pitched voice reached their ears.

“Mistress! Since it’s come to this, win decisively!”

“This woman is insane! Do you even know the kind of person our master is?!”

“Are you kidding me? Do you know our lady at all?!”

The two servants, anxious and bouncing on their heels, shared the same earnest expression.

‘This match-up has already tanked.’

‘As long as it’s ruined, I wish at least our side could win.’

In the presence of just these two onlookers, Eileen, now clad in simple training attire, lifted a practice iron sword in front of Logan.

“Eileen Floyd. I’ve been training in swordsmanship alone for ten years.”

Her greeting, while assuming a stance with the sword, was reminiscent of legendary introductions from heroic tales. But Logan did not laugh, the content of her words was too jarring.

“Alone?”

Mistaking his reaction for mockery, a faint blush crossed Eileen’s face.

“I’ve beaten fully-fledged knights before. Please do not underestimate me. I wouldn’t want to hear later that you were taking it easy.”

“Ah, my apologies. I was merely astonished. Rest assured, I won’t be negligent. To do so would be unthinkable.”

This young lady is calling for trouble.

Had her words reached the ears of his master, the repercussions would not have ended with a mere scolding.

On the contrary.

“I have no intentions of holding back, so please understand if my actions seem rough.”

Eileen’s eyes grew brighter in response to Logan’s firm words.

Soon after, there was a loud clash!

“Cough!”

A single blow had sent a shock through Eileen’s side that felt strong enough to fracture several ribs.

The spectators, Laila and Rick, clutched their sides with expressions suggesting they felt the impact too.

Eileen was forced to drop to her knees, stifling the pain that made her want to groan.

Within a single move.

It was shocking enough that Logan had such a gap in skill, but it was inconceivable that the gap would be so wide when he was barely older than her.

“Ouch!”

With a flushed face, Eileen suppressed her agony and got up.

Her gaze was determined as she cautiously orbited Logan.

Thump!

She closed the distance swiftly.

Whoosh!

The whistling of her iron sword, aimed perfectly, seemed lethal, but…

Whack!

Clang!

“Argh!”

Her sword was deflected sharply, and Logan’s retaliatory strike showed no mercy.

Wooosh.

Blood spurted from Eileen’s forehead as if it were a lie.

Screams spilled from the mouths of the onlookers.

“No, Mistress!!”

Laila’s face turned as pale as if she herself had been struck.

With trembling hands and on the verge of fainting, Rick stood by her, equally ashen-faced.

‘I’m done for. This is the end.’

All Rick wanted to do was cry.

In his mind, he pictured Logan’s reputation as a woman-beater and envisioned his own punishment within the family.

Whoosh! Whack!

“Cough!”

Another intense pain speared through her side, yet Eileen didn’t falter.

The agony was unfamiliar despite having endured it countless times.

She had never imagined, let alone seen, blood spurting from her head, nor had she imagined the horrific pain inflicted by the battering iron sword.

She hadn’t even conceived how this spar could have turned out.

A shocking pain intruded into her romanticized dreams, creating a surreal reality.

Her body begged to collapse, but she refused.

To her, Logan’s red eyes looking down seemed to scoff as if asking, “Is that all?”

‘I have to land at least one hit!’

Eileen briskly wiped away the blood trailing past her eyes.

She wanted to leave a bruise on those insufferably red eyes as if tainted by the blood on her hand.

“Wipe the blood from your eyes and…”

Thump!

“Die!”

She launched an attack during the moment he spoke.

It was beyond sparring; it was a strike filled with extreme personal emotion.

Nevertheless, it was futile.

Whack!

Even if the sword came half a beat late, it was always there in time, intercepting her own.

Ironically, her following blows, barely deflecting his attacks, felt more like luck.

“Well judged.”

He praised her, even though she had expected scorn for resorting to a cheap shot.

But to Eileen right then, even that sounded like mockery.

“Your movements should be more concise though!”

Clash.

Another jolt of agonizing pain blurred her vision once more.

‘This wretched man!’

It wasn’t about playing games

Whether due to pain or anger, tears welled up.

Yet, even so, Eileen’s body moved with shortened, deliberate motions.

She had never felt such electrifying pain throughout her whole body.

And she didn’t realize her unnecessary movements were decreasing, nor that her injuries weren’t as severe as the pain suggested.

And in front of her, Logan watched with bright eyes as Eileen continued to transform.

‘It must have been how my master felt watching me.’

Overflowing with potential but failing to harness it.

Although she seemed to have bad habits indicative of being self-taught, a few points of guidance had her immediately improve her form.

Her talent was real, not just some story or rumor.

‘So I must conclude this definitively.’

Just as he made his decision, Eileen charged once more.

“Ahh!”

A cry that sounded like both a scream and a rally.

It was unfitting for a lady of rank but the result it brought couldn’t be ignored.

Her zigzagging footwork and shifting blade, a stark contrast from her initial straightforwardness, was like she was a completely different person.

Yet.

Logan’s iron sword easily deflected hers, burying itself into her solar plexus.

Whoosh! Whack!

The impact would surely paralyze her for quite some time.

Emotionally and physically.

As Logan withdrew his sword, Eileen’s body wilted weakly.

But even then.

“Let’s, let’s go again. Again…”

Desperation in her voice, as if refusing to end it there.

Struggling to rise, Eileen’s plea was almost heart-wrenching.

‘Spirit, check.’

Logan sighed softly, preparing himself mentally.

What was happening had significant implications for the future.

But…

‘It’s well worth it.’

Resolute, Logan extended a hand.

“I’ll help you up, Lady.”

“Again, let’s do it again!”

“I’ll give you another chance next time.”

“Sigh…”

Chuckling, Logan helped Eileen to her feet.

Then, he whispered a few words into her ear.

“…What? Yes?”

Eileen, with a confused look, nodded after a moment.

The few whispered words resulted in a situation more unbelievable than the improbable spar.

The servants, still in shock, were rendered completely speechless for a long while.

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