The secret discussion with the Marquis, the host of the gathering, had reached a rather positive conclusion.
As a result, a smile naturally formed on the Marquis’s lips, which in turn encouraged the attending nobles to subtly join the conversation.
“Your Excellency, judging by the smile that hasn’t left your face, you must be in quite a good mood.”
“Ah, now that I think about it, I have been late in making introductions. This here is the elf, Tyreal, a sage working to improve relations between the Empire and the Great Forest by breaking its long-standing unspoken rules.”
A sage, huh?
More like a lunatic putting on a one-man show to shake off the stigma of being a “wildling.”
From their perspective, he might be an elf who has lived for decades, but to us, he’s just a kid who’s barely lived a few dozen years.
“I have heard of you. You saved an imperial noble before, didn’t you?”
A noble spoke as he cautiously extended his hand for a handshake.
Yet, his expression betrayed subtle concern and fear—his wariness was clear.
It was obvious he was worried that the elf might refuse or, worse, react with force.
It made me wonder, as I often did—no, almost daily—just what the wildlings had done to instill such fear.
How much of a disaster did they create that even something as simple as a handshake made people this tense?
Feeling pity for him, I deliberately moved my arm slowly before grasping his hand.
The noble sighed in relief, smiling, but I found myself unable to return the expression.
“Elves entering the Empire has drawn considerable attention, especially toward the Academy. I hear that even other kingdoms are showing great interest in this matter.”
“The Great Forest and the Empire—elves and humans—have always maintained a good relationship. There have been occasional outliers, of course, but such things are hardly enough to shake our bond.”
A veiled question hinting at concerns over whether elves would stir trouble within the Empire once more.
And my predictable response.
It felt like a never-ending cycle, the same discussion over and over.
I had expected this, but still, wasn’t this a bit excessive?
I was about to subtly poke at the Marquis Antioch standing beside me when—
Thud!
“Ugh!”
An unexpected elbow struck my side, catching me completely off guard.
I turned my head in shock, failing to notice any sign of the incoming attack.
To make matters worse, it hurt quite a bit.
“Noah Sir?”
“How about keeping your chatter to a reasonable level? It seems to me that you’ve said enough already.”
“Well, that is…”
“Or do you have more to discuss and wish to cling to each other? You’re not that close, are you?”
Something about his words felt sharp, not aimed at me but at someone else entirely.
A warning, directed toward the nobles—telling them to stop clinging to a guest and rehashing the same topics.
That letting go at the right time would be beneficial to both parties.
“Noah Sir.”
Noticing this, the Marquis smoothly changed the subject.
“I heard you were at the Academy, yet here you are.”
“A fool who refuses to take responsibility for his own mistakes is beneath me. I see this as a fair consequence, nothing more.”
If I recalled correctly, he had been sent to the Academy after nearly annihilating an entire knight order.
The fact that he hadn’t killed a single one of them was probably the reason people hesitated to call him the ‘Sword Demon.’
“But tell me, Noah Sir, I heard you are teaching swordsmanship at the Academy. Would that mean you intend to train the elves as well?”
“If they wish to learn, why not? But why do you ask?”
“You may already know this, but elves are generally not associated with martial pursuits. Your student is an exception, but surely you are aware of that.”
“Hmm.”
“I may be worrying too much, but I fear some elves who look down on martial arts might end up clashing with you.”
I had nothing to say to that.
After all, I had spent decades watching and experiencing it firsthand.
Even if an elf displayed godlike archery skills—becoming a living embodiment of a divine marksman—if they couldn’t wield magic or command spirits, they were labeled as social failures.
Case in point: an elf I knew who had been an exceptional archer.
He eventually abandoned his bow and trained in magic with gritted teeth.
He did manage to attain a decent level of proficiency, but in the end, he was just… average.
I had often wondered what would have happened had he stuck with archery.
But since he seemed content, who was I to judge?
“The one to answer that will be this guy here.”
“…Tyreal?”
Huh?
Why me all of a sudden?
As I looked at Noah in confusion, something came flying toward me.
Thankfully, my elven reflexes allowed me to catch it smoothly.
Several ladies in the room gasped and blushed, but I chose to ignore that.
“Draw it.”
“…Here?”
“Of course not. Do you think I’d suggest something that insane?”
Noah strode over to the Marquis, saying something about borrowing a training ground.
His tone was far from that of someone making a request, but since no one seemed to mind, I supposed it was fine.
“You truly intend to demonstrate your swordsmanship before us? Truly?”
Rather than displeased, the Marquis’s eyes shone with anticipation.
As a military man, the prospect of witnessing the swordplay of the Empire’s greatest swordsman thrilled him.
Any concerns about how much damage the training ground might suffer seemed to have vanished.
Even more astonishing was the reaction of the nobles in attendance.
I had expected them to protest or criticize this as inappropriate.
Instead, they all seemed eager—almost excited—as if they were moments away from grabbing popcorn.
“I thought you didn’t like such events just because they were social gatherings.”
Is that the case?
Since this is a place where one must be cautious due to its setting, especially considering how it would look if nobles got hurt.
More than that, if those who usually stay on the sidelines are the ones to start such an event, it feels like the applause they receive is because there is no issue with it.
“The owner has given their permission, so a bit of chaos… Ahem. It seems I’ll be stretching my limbs after quite some time.”
Noah, who half-forced me to join him and dragged me into the training ground, was now fiddling with his sword, but at that moment, I suddenly had a question.
“Noah?”
“Are you asking why I decided to get involved in such a farce?”
“…If you can also teach me telepathy, I’d like to know.”
“It’s all written on your face. What’s the use of being flashy on the outside if there’s nothing substantial on the inside?”
In the middle of all this, I was even hearing the words about appearances from a man who was both a master swordsman and a martial arts expert.
“Doesn’t that hurt your pride? What they’ve been implying since earlier is that they’re questioning whether the elves will truly adapt to this world or not, aren’t they?”
“…”
Even if I assert things to the Marquis, at the end of the day, it’s just words from an elf.
So when the nobles only hear our side of the story, their usual response is “So what do you want us to believe?”
Just earlier, when Noah questioned if the elves would even come, it was that point they were probing.
“For now, it’s a problem we have to deal with. If we show gradual progress…”
“I thought you’d be more useful than this. Tch.”
Noah clicked his tongue, and then in a flash, he disappeared from in front of me.
If it weren’t for the elvish traits of sensitivity and agility, I would’ve probably been struck down somewhere.
Kaang!!
Admiring sounds echoed from around the training ground.
Thanks to that, no matter what tricks they used, the nobles couldn’t hear what Noah and I were discussing.
“You don’t just need to show progress. You need to first show how far your people can go and make their mouths shut. You know well that good people don’t always surround themselves with other good people.”
“…You’re right.”
Noah’s sword once again came down like a lightning strike.
Each time my vision flashed, his figure would disappear and reappear, making it hard to track.
If this were a real fight, I would probably be in a worse situation right now.
Though I’ve been diligently learning from Elenia, the path of the sword is still long and difficult.
This is how it is.
Reaching the pinnacle of non-existence is truly hard.
If our kin, who have been stagnating in magic and spirit arts, ever reach that pinnacle, they might either become more arrogant through victory or completely collapse through defeat.
“You can talk all you want, but in the end, those who are going to listen will listen, and those who won’t won’t.”
“So, this is why you’re participating like this.”
Ka-Ka-Ka-Kaang!-
Noah’s sword danced magnificently in his hands.
The star patterns sewn with light seemed to be carved right in front of me.
Even I, who could barely follow the movements, was in awe.
How must the nobles feel?
“Remember this. Understanding begins with conversation, but respect comes from fear. If you don’t find that boundary, the path you dream of will crash from the very start.”
I had been talking too much, and it seemed Noah found it displeasing.
But Noah… Actually, I was starting to think of taking things seriously too.
This, well… I suppose it could be seen as a kind of vaccination.
Ka-Ka-Ka!
“…Oh?”
I blocked Noah’s sword, which came rushing at me, mid-swing.
It wasn’t an attack filled with murderous intent, but it was definitely a blow with genuine meaning behind it.
When it was stopped, a flash of flame erupted in Noah’s eyes.
“Would you care to dance with your sword?”
“Sure. Let’s see who you really are, the one who’s only been speaking kindly to those people.”