Chapter 19: The Reluctant Sword Prodigy

“First, everyone, head to the storage area and grab a practice wooden sword. We’ll always be practicing sword swings, so make sure you’re prepared! If you understand, answer me!”

“Yes, Professor!”

“Good!”

Following Professor Horiju’s instructions, the students went to retrieve their wooden swords.

Their expressions and movements made it clear that they found this task tedious.

Professor Horiju wasn’t clueless about her students’ feelings.

‘Still, I have to teach with enthusiasm!’

Wizards were inherently lacking in physical exercise.

They often skipped meals due to research, and their only forms of exercise were walking and breathing.

Many would even faint from exhaustion after studying or conducting research.

That was why the Academy’s Magic Department had requested her help:

to design a course that would force wizards to move their bodies.

And thus, the class “Swordsmanship to Protect the Mage’s Body” was born.

“Some of you might’ve been intimidated after seeing my swordsmanship demonstration in the first week. But my class isn’t that hard! Today, we’ll just focus on the basics of posture!”

Professor Horiju began the lesson.

She explained the basics step by step, from footwork to stances.

In truth, there wasn’t much to explain.

Since the class’s goal was exercise, the swordsmanship taught was simple.

The style was the “Byzantium Swordsmanship,” used by the empire’s knights.

This widely available technique was chosen not to train skilled swordsmen but to ensure students moved their bodies.

“Alright, that’s the basic explanation! Now, practice the upper strike once! I’ll watch and guide you. Don’t be shy—just swing with energy!”

The students began imitating the movements one by one.

As expected, their stances were awkward and unnatural.

It was only natural, as these were students from the Magic Department.

Among them, one student stood out: Clive Debrong.

‘His posture is pretty good.’

His muscular physique suggested prior training.

Compared to others, his upper strike was noticeably stable.

It seemed he had practiced the move for a long time.

“You’re doing great! Just keep swinging like that. Oh, but your blade tip trembles a bit when you swing—focus on that, and you’ll be fine!”

“Understood! Haha!”

Professor Horiju praised Clive directly.

His shoulders lifted with pride, and he grinned broadly.

Watching him, she sighed internally.

‘To think he’s so proud just because he’s slightly ahead… How embarrassing.’

While Clive stood out among today’s beginners, his swordsmanship was nothing compared to students from the Combat Department.

Despite this, his arrogance was not a pleasant sight.

A swordsman’s virtues included skill, but more importantly, humility.

Talented yet arrogant swordsmen rarely received good evaluations or respect.

However, Professor Horiju decided not to address this.

After all, these were Magic Department students, not her Combat Department trainees.

It was merely a general education class. Scolding him for arrogance seemed unnecessary.

As she continued guiding other students,

her sharp ears caught snippets of a conversation.

“What are you looking at?”

“…?”

“I’m talking to you, idiot.”

It was Clive’s voice, the same student who had been friendly to the professor just moments ago.

While Professor Horiju didn’t turn her gaze, her ears twitched in response.

As a squirrel beastkin, her ears never missed even the faintest sound.

“When you lied to the professor about not knowing barrier magic, you must’ve thought you fooled everyone. But you didn’t fool me.”

“From what I see, you can’t even swing a sword properly. Instead of worrying about others, why not focus on class? A commoner should act like one—stay in your place.”

Sneaking a glance, Professor Horiju saw Clive picking a fight with another student nearby.

The target of his taunts was a slender, unassuming boy who seemed entirely unsuited for swordsmanship.

She recognized him immediately.

‘That’s Student Sion, isn’t it?’

Sion, a human with no family name, was clearly a commoner.

In the Magic Department, where starting magic training at a young age provided an overwhelming advantage, commoners were rare.

This was why Professor Horiju remembered his name.

It was short and easy to recall, and his appearance was strikingly unsuited for swordsmanship.

Watching the scene unfold, she thought:

‘This might escalate… I need to step in.’

Bullying someone who appeared so fragile was shameful.

Beyond the physical disparity, there was also a stark difference in status.

The sight of a noble pressuring a commoner reminded Professor Horiju of her own past.

• “What’s a squirrel beastkin doing wielding a sword?”
• “Just live in the Great Forest. Why bother coming to a human city?”
• “You’re a disgrace to our kind.”

Professor Horiju, a squirrel beastkin officially known as a Yulseo,

came from a species that mostly lived and died in the Great Forest.

The sight of a squirrel—a herbivore—wielding a sword was seen as strange, even laughable.

Her experiences with discrimination didn’t end there.

• “What kind of beastkin thinks they can swing a sword?”
• “Stay away—you smell like an animal.”
• “A squirrel beastkin? They can’t fight. Let’s just hire someone else.”

As one of the rare beastkin in the empire’s human-dominated society,

she had faced relentless prejudice.

Despite these odds, she had risen to become an instructor at the world’s greatest academy,

creating her own unique sword style, the “Yulseo Swordsmanship,” which utilized the agility and nimbleness of squirrels to strike with precision.

To Professor Horiju, Sion’s struggles felt personal.

“Hah.”

“You’re laughing? You little…!”

Step, step.

Professor Horiju couldn’t hold back any longer and approached the pair.

Clive, too, couldn’t contain his anger and began walking toward Sion.

‘I need to hurry!’

As Clive extended his hand, Professor Horiju prepared to intervene.

But before she could act,

Swish!

Sion’s wooden sword moved.

Professor Horiju’s sharp eyes caught the graceful arc of his swing.

It wasn’t clumsy or shaky like Clive’s attempts.

‘…Ah.’

To Professor Horiju, who had spent her life mastering the sword,

Sion’s movements were strikingly clear.

From the soles of his feet to his ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, elbows, wrists… and finally, the blade itself.

Every force was perfectly aligned, flowing like a work of art.

Though Sion’s frame was small, and his strength modest,

the efficiency of his movements amplified the power behind his strike.

Clive, sensing danger, stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet.

Thud!

Clive landed unceremoniously on his backside,

but Professor Horiju barely noticed.

Her mind was still captivated by the elegant path of Sion’s sword.

In that frozen moment, Sion alone moved, calm and deliberate.

‘Was he about to retaliate?’

With that level of swordsmanship, Clive wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Had Sion struck with full intent, even a practice sword could have inflicted serious harm.

But Sion’s response was unexpected.

“Sorry. I didn’t notice you were getting so close.”

“What…?”

“This is a swordsmanship class. Approaching someone without warning can be dangerous. Here, let me help you up.”

“You…!”

Sion extended his hand to the very student who had insulted him.

Though Professor Horiju had overheard Clive’s vile words, Sion must have heard them even more clearly.

Yet, he reacted with poise.

‘He’s perfect… even his character!’

Compared to a pretender like Clive, Sion was on a completely different level.

The flawless arc of his sword, something only years of practice could achieve, spoke volumes.

And even with the generosity to extend kindness to someone insulting him.

“You little…!”

Clive rejected that kindness, swinging his fist at Sion.

The sight of such a pitiful loser made Professor Horiju frown.

She wasn’t patient enough to let someone tarnish the “gem” she had just discovered.

She swung her sword toward Clive’s fist.

Swish! Thwack!

“You bastard! Who did that?!”

“Are you talking to me, by any chance?”

“Uh… P-Professor…?”

This was no longer the cheerful, smiling face of Professor Horiju.

Her expression had hardened into something so chilling that even bystanders felt a shiver down their spines.

Clive, unable to say another word, was promptly kicked out of the lecture hall.

“If you’re not out by the count of three, I’ll consider it a challenge to my authority as a professor. Three.”

“Professor, I—”

“Two.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

Clive left his wooden sword behind and ran out in a panic.

His uniform pants were covered in dirt from his earlier fall.

Professor Horiju watched his hasty retreat with a cold, detached gaze.

Once the filthy troublemaker disappeared from sight, she turned back to the class.

Her eyes, now sparkling, focused on Sion.

“I’d like to see that upper strike again!”

“…Pardon?”

“It was incredible! I was worried earlier because your stance was all over the place and you kept getting distracted, but that upper strike was so precise! Have you really never practiced swordsmanship before? If not, you’re a natural talent!”

Tap, tap!

Professor Horiju circled around Sion, her tail wagging furiously like an excited puppy.

‘He’s at the level of a Combat Department student! No… maybe even better!’

She vividly remembered his earlier posture.

Just moments ago, he had been clumsily swinging his sword, yet suddenly, he executed a perfect upper strike.

‘This is genius-level talent! A rare prodigy who might not even appear once in a thousand years!’

A student who could refine the upper strike to near-perfection in a single day.

Even though his physique was below average, and he belonged to the Magic Department,

such trivial details didn’t matter to Professor Horiju.

‘Letting this extraordinary talent waste away learning magic would be a crime… I need to get him into the Combat Department at any cost!’

Her mind raced as she strategized.

As a professor, it would be unforgivable to let a student with such talent slip through her fingers.

Her gaze on Sion grew increasingly intense, almost manic.

“Uh… Professor?”

“If possible, I’d like you to come to my office after class! I’ll teach you personally, one-on-one!”

Professor Horiju’s eager tone and proximity made Sion visibly uncomfortable.

‘I didn’t know my upper strike would turn out that well!’

Sion, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm, was at his wit’s end.

The upper strike he had performed to intimidate Clive had been far more powerful than he had anticipated.

Even with a practice sword, if it had hit Clive, the impact would have been severe.

The problem was that his performance had drawn too much attention.

Only moments earlier, he had been struggling to get his stance right and had even been scolded by the professor.

If he suddenly swung a perfect sword strike like this, wouldn’t it seem suspicious?

“Sion, you’re a swordsmanship prodigy! If you stick with me, you could become a knight commander, an S-rank adventurer, or even a swordsmanship master!”

Professor Horiju’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

As she inched closer, Sion backed away until he found himself pressed against the wall of the training hall.

With no more room to retreat, he decided to confront the situation head-on.

“Uh… I’m sorry, but I already have plans…”

“Then another day works too!”

“Well, um…”

“How about this? I’ll share my schedule with you, and you can let me know when you’re free!”

It was clear Professor Horiju had no intention of letting him go.

When Sion tried to sidestep her to escape,

he realized he couldn’t move.

‘…What the?’

Looking down, he saw her fluffy tail wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him in place.

The soft, bushy fur clung firmly, as if to say she wouldn’t let him escape.

Realizing he had no choice, Sion sighed in resignation.

“Fine. Let’s meet on Wednesday evening.”

“Great! Don’t forget, okay?!”

“…Understood.”

“Alright, let’s resume class!”

Tap, tap!

Professor Horiju returned to the training area, her steps light and cheerful as if nothing had happened.

Sion slowly returned to his spot, feeling the weight of countless stares on him.

Even those pretending not to look couldn’t resist sneaking glances.

More than half the students openly stared, while the rest stole furtive side glances.

The intensity of their attention made Sion feel nauseous.

Even so, he silently resumed swinging his sword.

“That’s it for today’s class! Sion, don’t forget about our meeting on Wednesday evening! Class dismissed!”

Professor Horiju left the training hall with a spring in her step,

looking even more delighted than when she had arrived.

She even hummed a cheerful tune as she walked away, leaving no doubt about the source of her joy.

“Sion, what’s going on?”

“…What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been hiding those sword skills this whole time?”

Patrick teased, tapping Sion’s shoulder.

Naturally, Gae Bolg was standing beside him, chiming in.

“Truly impressive skills, Sion! And being favored by Professor Horiju is no small feat. Her Yulseo Swordsmanship is world-renowned!”

“Exactly. She’s still famous for winning the World Swordsmanship Tournament against all odds. People are still talking about it.”

Although Sion wasn’t particularly interested, Patrick and Gae Bolg continued their chatter.

They talked about how Professor Horiju was the most famous member of the Yulseo race, her tournament victory, and her legendary swordsmanship.

The more they talked, the less Sion understood why someone so incredible was so fixated on him.

The thought of meeting her on Wednesday evening made him feel drained.

“I’m going back to the dorms to rest…”

“Rest all you want, but why not transfer to the Combat Department while you’re at it?”

“No thanks…”

“Haha! Think about it seriously, Sion. You’re already good enough to splash a professor with your incantationless magic. Now you’re a swordsmanship prodigy too! You’ve got great options ahead!”

“Stop saying things that’ll give people the wrong idea!”

As Gae Bolg laughed and Patrick teased,

the three of them left the training hall together.

Sion’s face looked visibly older and more fatigued, as if the events of the last hour had aged him decades.