Chapter 4: How could the teacher dislike you?

Miss Demon King stood at attention, and Miss Eleanor also stiffened her body, standing frozen in place.

How strange, really strange.

Eleanor had always thought she was a male sword spirit, after all, she could only project her thoughts and couldn’t hear her own voice.

Trapped in the scabbard, she couldn’t take form, unable to do anything except glow and shine.

It wasn’t until she was drawn from the scabbard that she finally had the chance to take shape.

“Phew~ So refreshing…” Miss Sword Spirit happily stretched her body.

“…Huh?”

Wait, something felt a bit off.

Why did her voice sound so soft and delicate, and this perspective—why did it feel like Yvette was almost a head taller than her!

And~~~

Her chest muscles were much more pronounced than she remembered.

Looking down, through the delicate, soft white puff dress, a deep cleavage appeared before Eleanor’s eyes.

Okay.

What?!

“Hiss—”

She… was actually a female sword spirit?!

And somehow, she was wearing an off-shoulder puff dress.

The dress was light and airy, soft like clouds, and should have been comfortable, but Miss Eleanor didn’t feel quite right.

It felt like some strange force was binding her, a force that felt oddly familiar.

No, this wasn’t a puff dress—this dress was actually the scabbard that had trapped her for three whole years!

“Damn it—! I’ve been tricked!”

Eleanor angrily tugged at the dress, but no matter how hard she tried or how many poses she struck, she couldn’t remove it from her body.

During this struggle, Eleanor felt her strength dwindling significantly.

Panicking, she checked her status panel, watching her stats visibly plummet.

They stabilized at a lower value—all attributes at Tier 4.

Name: Eleanor Lillian

Sword Height: 150 cm

Sword Weight: 40 kg

Rank: Tier 4 (All Class Proficiency LV8)

Disaster! The cursed scabbard, now transformed into clothing, was restricting her attributes!

Skills like swordsmanship couldn’t be diminished, but her physical stats were brutally slashed.

It was exactly like when she was stuck in the scabbard—her attributes severely suppressed.

Only when Yvette drew her out and held her, temporarily freeing her from the scabbard’s touch, could she unleash her full strength.

Kids, this isn’t funny.

Miss Eleanor was feeling a bit down. If possible, she actually preferred a more human-like sword spirit form; deep down, she still thought of herself as human.

Fortunately, her sword form’s combat power remained intact. In danger, she could transform into a sword for Yvette to wield, and normally, she could appear in human form.

Ugh…

She had a bad feeling, like countless eyes were watching her, but she couldn’t see anyone…

Eleanor glanced back at the girl, who hurriedly looked away in a panic, awkwardly raising her head and looking around.

Looking at the relatively bright moon, she spoke,

“DONAA…”

Eleanor followed her gaze, only to see a crescent moon.

“?”

Eleanor felt like she’d chosen an idiot as her sword master.

The girl stood there dazed, tilting her head to gaze at the starry sky.

Only then did Eleanor notice how painfully thin Yvette’s figure was, like crops growing in barren, salty soil—withered and frail.

A trace of pity flickered in her eyes but quickly faded, replaced by a gentle expression.

Poor child…

But she didn’t say it out loud, nor did she want Yvette to notice the pity in her eyes.

Yvette, tilting her head, had been secretly observing the human-formed Eleanor with her peripheral vision.

Seeing Eleanor’s gaze linger on her, Yvette’s face flushed slightly.

A girl.

(It’s… like I can’t escape it.)

Actually, Yvette had been quietly studying Eleanor earlier, from head to toe, not missing a single detail.

The cunning (or rather, slippery) evil magic sword.

Cute—Miss Eleanor looked really cute.

Even though her voice alone had hinted at a certain charm, seeing her in person, Yvette couldn’t help but stare intensely at Eleanor.

Staring at someone without permission, especially at their bare shoulders, was quite rude.

Feeling guilty, Yvette lifted her head, only to catch Eleanor’s gaze fixed firmly on her.

“S-Sorry…”

The girl’s voice trembled as she opened her mouth to apologize, but a soft, pale hand slowly reached toward her forehead.

“Are you running a fever? Your face is so red!”

Miss Sword Spirit looked puzzled at the blushing girl.

She had already noticed Yvette’s poor physical condition when she stumbled and fled earlier, and now it was even more apparent.

“N-No…”

Yvette softly denied, swallowing her apology.

So… Miss Sword Spirit hadn’t noticed?

Eleanor had noticed, but she didn’t think there was anything wrong with Yvette staring at her.

Let her look—it’s not like it’d take a piece out of her.

She wasn’t some remnant of old feudal society.

Seeing the girl’s evasive eyes and hesitant tone, Eleanor decided to trust her instincts, standing on her tiptoes to press her forehead against Yvette’s.

As their foreheads touched, Yvette’s nose was filled with a pleasant, sandalwood-like fragrance from Eleanor’s body.

Looking at Eleanor’s serious, adorable face, Yvette’s already clear mind grew a bit dizzy.

“Teacher… Eleanor?”

“You little thing, you’re actually lying?”

Eleanor’s tone carried a hint of surprise, as if she’d discovered something amusing.

“Huh? I’m not!”

Yvette stubbornly tried to argue, but Eleanor’s palm lit up with a green glow without hesitation.

“Healing Technique”

A healing spell two tiers below Shining Healing Technique, the limit of what she could cast in her sword spirit form, but more than sufficient for treating minor ailments like a cold.

“If you’re sick, say so. Dragging it out will only make it worse, and I might not be able to heal you then.”

Eleanor scolded the girl, her tone tinged with dissatisfaction.

With Yvette’s face so flushed, she must be running a fever—otherwise, she wouldn’t have looked at a crescent moon and said, “The moon is so round.”

Not admitting she’s sick and toughing it out—what a way to make herself suffer.

But Eleanor wasn’t truly angry.

Kids, you know, they’re a bit stubborn, always wanting to show off.

A little guidance in the future would do.

Perhaps because she hadn’t seen a human in three whole years, Eleanor was filled with patience for the girl before her.

Looking at Yvette’s short-sleeved shirt, soaked with rain and mud, Eleanor waved her hand, sending out a warm breeze.

But the effect wasn’t as good as she’d hoped, perhaps because the rainy air was too damp.

The warm breeze did little.

And then~~~

Eleanor gently embraced the girl. Under Yvette’s flustered gaze, she silently raised her body temperature.

Blazing Sword Technique, kid!

Just a super low-powered version, from 4200°C to 42°C.

Like a giant warm pad, soft and warm, comforting the girl’s cold, rain-soaked body.

Sickness could be cured with healing magic, but for a chilled body, only the second law of thermodynamics would do.

Eleanor gently held the girl, their bare skin closely touching.

“Teacher, I’m dirty…”

Yvette, feeling inferior, squirmed to push the pristine sword spirit away.

After all, Eleanor had mentioned she didn’t like anything dirty.

But the “dirty” Eleanor meant was entirely different from what Yvette thought.

Feeling the girl’s trembling, frail body, a pang of heartache flashed through Eleanor, and she held her even tighter.

“Yvette, be good~ If you’re not feeling well, say so. You call me teacher—how could I ever think you’re dirty?”