A Legend’s Discipline and the Library Struggle

Title Suggestions

1. Original (Korean): 전설의 스승과 과제의 늪 (The Legendary Master and the Swamp of Assignments)

2. English Option 1: A Legend’s Discipline and the Library Struggle

3. English Option 2: The Price of a Hero’s Tutelage

4. English Option 3: Swords, Homework, and the Youngest’s Charm

English Translation

My body, which had finished the last half-lap by practically crawling, collapsed onto the ground. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing properly. My legs were trembling so violently that if I tried to go down the stairs, I’d likely tumble head-over-heels. I dry-heaved, though nothing came up, and since I lacked even the strength to twist my body, I simply buried my face back into the dirt.

Edward Spellman.

After retiring as the Grand Commander of the four knight orders that protected the Imperial Household for years, he was spending his twilight years as a swordsmanship instructor for the princes. I heard from Erkel that the Emperor had used every means of persuasion and conciliation to keep this living legend—a man for whom simply crossing blades, or even showing one’s sword to him, was considered an honor—within the palace. In the original story, he was the mentor who stood firmly by the Crown Prince’s side.

So, why was this precious figure, whom even the Emperor begged and who usually only taught the Crown Prince, standing in front of me? Dammit, it was obviously because of that Crown Prince bastard.

I had said I wanted to become a knight like my brothers, but I never intended to learn the sword from Leopold Edwill. A guy who became an official knight before even reaching adulthood and was appointed Vice-Commander at twenty couldn’t possibly belong to the realm of normal humans.

Ignoring my request to simply call for a regular tutor, Leopold had taken me to the practice grounds in a state of high excitement. He showed me slashes and stabs with a practice sword. I was certainly impressed by his knightly aura, but I didn’t see what that had to do with me. Was he just showing off? As I stood there blankly, the second son spoke in an elated voice.

“Easy, right? Want to try following along?”

“Pardon?”

It wasn’t a boast; it was a mockery.

And yet, his eyes were sparkling with genuine expectation. Does he really expect me to follow along after seeing it once? It was so absurd I wondered if he was teasing me, but the second son, oblivious to my feelings, was already saying, “Let’s skip the textbook parts quickly!” That bastard was dead serious.

Naturally, I wasn’t some prodigy who could succeed on the first try. If this body had been capable of that, Llewellyn Edwill wouldn’t have struggled so much in the first place. There was a setting in the story about him joining the Imperial Knights, but even that was merely a plot device to keep him close to the Crown Prince.

‘Our Llewellyn was a total nepotism hire…’

I swallowed a curse as I recalled Erkel’s distant, pitying voice. I’m the protagonist, for heaven’s sake. Give me some decent stats. Something other than just a face that seduces men.

I picked up the training sword that the second son’s family had commissioned. The training sword—purchased with an extra fee for an engraving after falling for a sales pitch—was quite long but light enough for a child to hold without trouble. It was a good thing I stopped them from buying all the artifacts the shop recommended. Though the tip was blunt due to magic treatment, the blade gleamed sharply under the sunlight.

I don’t expect much, but you never know.

For a brief, fleeting moment while catching my breath, a spark of hope crossed my mind. That classic trope where the protagonist exceeds expectations—the kind you see everywhere in fantasies. But reality was grim; my “decisive blow,” swung through the air, was clumsy. Even so, I thought it wasn’t too bad, but the second son looked distraught. For the record, his look of dismay pissed me off even more. That day’s practice, which consisted of him repeating “Should I show you even slower?” several times, left him in shock and me with nothing but emotional scars. Being a great knight didn’t make one a great teacher.

The second son, who was scolded by the third and eldest for “what are you doing to a child,” lost his spirit. Abel watched him and clicked his tongue, making a tsking sound. He seemed to have picked up that way of speaking from the Magic Tower lately.

The Count was excited, saying he would find a proper teacher. He looked ready to mobilize every connection he had, and even those he didn’t. Having lost all expectations for the second son’s social circle after seeing James, I agreed immediately before the Count could change his mind. He excitedly looked around and even pulled up a recommendation list. I was startled to see Joshua Bretty of the Northern Dimension on it, but the eldest son, who should have been startled with me, instead discussed ways to bring him over with the Count, saying, “Indeed. If it’s Sir Bretty…”

Joshua Bretty was an exceptional genius even among young, capable knights. In terms of fame, he was comparable only to Cedric Klein, the wizard of the century who would appear a few years later. Perhaps because he was still young, or because of the North’s isolation, there was no news yet of Carwin Dimension, who would later become a Duke and work closely with Llewellyn.

In the “story” Erkel passed on, there was an anecdotal note that even after the Duke of Dimension earned the thunderous title of “Best Sword on the Continent” as an adult, some claimed Joshua Bretty had sworn loyalty to the Dimension family and intentionally kept himself lower than his master. I didn’t know why Erkel wrote down settings irrelevant to the plot, but he claimed it was an occupational hazard.

The Count, unable to give up on Joshua Bretty, sent a long, heartfelt letter to the North. I thought we’d be lucky if we didn’t get an insult in return, but the Archduke gave an ambiguous reply saying he would consider it. I had a hard time stopping Cale when he insisted on going to knock on the Dimension gates himself.

Usually the most calm and rational one… I guess the family blood shows itself eventually.

“So Sir Bretty might actually come?”

Louis’s voice rose in excitement. A famous swordsman in the Empire was like a modern sports star. Among them, someone like Joshua Bretty was the ultimate celebrity of the era.

To use an analogy, it was like a world-famous Premier League player coming to coach an elementary schooler. Even Aiden and Elliot, who were usually men of few words, were visibly hyped. If anything, they seemed even more excited than Louis.

“When? Around when will he arrive? If he comes, I’ll get to see his face, right? Right, Llewellyn?”

“Calm down. Nothing’s been decided yet.”

“How can I be calm! It’s not just anyone; it’s Sir Bretty. To potentially see the Hero of the North in person! I thought he’d never come to the capital in my lifetime.”

After that, Louis rambled on about how his dream was to visit the Dimension household if he learned the sword later, and how the sword engraved with the hawk—the symbol of Dimension—was the coolest. He seemed a bit prickly at first, but he was getting chattier by the day.

“I get it, so let’s just move.”

When Elliot finally snapped in annoyance, Louis pouted. It was obvious that the temperamental Elliot and the high-energy Louis would bicker often. It was a miracle they hadn’t had a major fight yet.

We were currently crossing the Imperial Palace, which was too vast to describe with words. It was thanks to Aniglan suddenly having urgent business—a wish come true, in a way. I would have welcomed it with open arms if that were the end of it, but even while postponing the class, he didn’t forget to give us an assignment.

We were moving our heavy behinds toward the library to tackle that very assignment. Normally, I would have sent a servant, but it was Erkel’s suggestion to go in person to change the mood. Naturally, he himself slipped away, claiming he had work to do.

Is it really okay to take these noisy, talkative kids to a library? I deeply emphasized with the heart of an elementary school teacher on a field trip.

The Head Librarian, having heard the news from a servant sent ahead, was waiting for us. The kind-looking old man smiled and showered us with praise. As expected of the head librarian of the main branch where every book in the Empire was kept, his tongue was exceptionally well-oiled.

Elliot was the best at handling the blatant flattery that made my face flush. He dropped his usual indifferent attitude and acted with a relaxed, haughty grace.

My worries about the kids making noise were unnecessary. I often forgot because they acted their age when it was just us, but they were actually dignified and quiet when we first met. Not forgetting their status as the Prince’s playmates, they kept their mouths shut before any librarian could give them a warning. They were indeed worthy of entering the palace under their family names.

Of course, the upright backs maintained for the sake of outsiders didn’t last long once we reached the meeting room set aside for group reading.

“Is it possible the book I brought is in a foreign language?”

There were dark circles under Louis’s eyes. He seemed to have withered away in a short time. The book he opened was 12 Histories That Changed the Empire. The handwriting was squiggly like bugs crawling on paper, but it was definitely the Imperial language. Elliot, who was reading The Way of Capital, put his book down.

“One thing is for sure. Whether this is a foreign language or Imperial, if you take away the parts we can’t understand, there’s barely anything left.”

Louis, clutching his hair, looked at me with a desperate expression. I stopped my frantically scribbling pen and pulled my assignment toward me.

“Llewellyn.”

“No.”

“Llewellyyyyn.”

“I said no. If I help you again, it’ll be too obvious.”

The one with the best grades among us was, of course, Erkel. It was a collaboration between a teacher who would give him a perfect score no matter what and playmates who worked hard to produce lower grades than him. Even if we said it was hard, there was no way our academic achievement was actually low among ten-year-olds.

However, they couldn’t exactly cling to a Prince to show them his assignment, nor was he here. That left me, the relatively approachable one. Except for Aiden, who was an only child, everyone was the youngest of their siblings, and Louis—who had nothing but older sisters—was the most “youngest-child-like” of them all. His skill at dragging out his words cutely and tilting his head while blinking was no joke.