Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

Benjamin, Luber, and I took turns practicing throwing daggers at intervals. All three of us were elite martial artists, and our enthusiasm for learning made for an enjoyable time. As a result, my shoulders and forearms were sore.

After about an hour, Benjamin became quite proficient at hitting the center of the target from short distances. As for me, I was still struggling, managing only to graze the edge of the target on a good throw.

I realized that I had neglected to consider throwing daggers, even though I had carried them around for so long. There were surely countless martial techniques in the central plains that were suitable for throwing daggers, yet I hadn’t even bothered to glance at them, thinking they didn’t fit the style of the Nangong family. This now seemed a regrettable oversight.

The martial arts of the Shierun people generally did not involve written formulas.

Each movement was infused with profound meaning, and as they practiced, they carefully considered which pressure points to target for internal energy transfer. Unlike the methods in the central plains, where martial arts techniques were passed down through careful study and replication, the Shierun way carved each individual’s personal style into their own body.

Repeated practice with proper form led to automatic learning—it was something that those mastering external martial arts would likely say.

Drawing mana from nature and infusing it into the body seemed similar but also different from strengthening meridians. Since I didn’t know how to use the larger energy channels, I had to experiment alone, which slowed my progress.

Had I been a master of external martial arts, things might have been different, but Nangong’s martial arts were more focused on the precise handling of internal energy. Shierun martial arts, in some ways, were simple and convenient, but they felt awkward to me.

It was like switching from a right-handed grip to a left-handed sword.

“Thanks to you, I’ve learned a lot.”

“Yeah, how about we meet again next Friday at the same time?”

“Won’t you be busy?”

“I’m fine. By the way, what about you, Clou Dian?”

“I’m also fine. I’ll be grateful for your consideration, and I won’t forget it.”

Luber smiled widely again.

It was interesting how his face looked so genuinely happy. After spending time together, sweating and adjusting to each other, I suddenly realized that a boy of his noble birth might not have any close friends among his peers.

Benjamin, who had always been quiet and didn’t hesitate to interact with anyone, or I, who felt awkward being overly respectful toward younger ones, might have seemed like a good companion to a prince like Luber.

Thinking this way, I saw no harm in it. After Shaden’s continuous advice, I had come to understand that taking Maelro Sanson’s time every Friday afternoon was both a bit burdensome and yet something I felt proud of. I now saw spending time learning how to throw daggers as a better choice.

On Friday afternoon, instead of the dormitory dining hall, we decided to go to a good restaurant, washed off the sweat, and agreed to meet again.

Following Luber, we went to a bustling street and found a restaurant where each dish was neatly prepared and served. As we ate, we talked about what we had learned today and some previous lessons, including the story of my duel with Edwin.

When Luber asked the same question Marianne had, I answered the same way, and the boy nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t hide his confusion.

“Is there a reason you and Kiadris don’t get along?”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… well, it’s natural for young magicians and swordsmen to have a bit of a rivalry, right? It’s better if everyone gets along. It’s not that I dislike him.”

The boy seemed flustered and stumbled over his words.

Come to think of it, Luber Anti Shierun and Edwin Kiadris were both 16 years old, in the same second year of academy.

Although the academy grounds felt vast, with many people coming and going for academic purposes, the actual number of students per year was only about 100 to 300.

In the central plains, where people were plentiful, I had grown used to dealing with large numbers of individuals. The Nangong family alone had hundreds of martial artists, and the martial arts alliance numbered in the thousands.

How could I not be familiar with the people under my command?

Luber was probably in a similar situation. He was a noble of the same age from a kingdom he sought to rule. Even though we were in different departments, it would have been strange if we didn’t know each other, and I realized that only later.

One of them was the crown prince of this country, and the other was a talented direct descendant of a great family, so it was unlikely that their encounters had been few.

Unlike Edwin, who was rumored to have a difficult personality, Luber had a gentle and reserved side. There seemed to be no reason for them to be involved, but it made me think that this very lack of conflict might mean they didn’t get along well.

It seemed awkward to ask if they had ever fought, so I shifted the conversation to another topic.

“Don’t you have meals with Senior Lucilla?”

“Hmm? Lucilla?”

“Yes. Since you both take the same classes, I thought you would spend your free time together, but it doesn’t seem that way.”

“Ah… We’re close, but we’ve been together since birth. Wouldn’t it get tiring to hang out even during breaks? She probably prefers spending time with her own friends rather than with me. We don’t even have any classes together except for advanced swordsmanship.”

Lucilla Anti Shierun was Luber’s twin sister, with brown hair always tied up in a high bun.

Although they were the same age, their appearances were distinctly different, so it was rare to get them mixed up.

Not only were they of different genders, but Luber had a healthy complexion with fair skin, while Lucilla had darker, sun-kissed skin, glowing like a well-baked loaf of bread.

While Luber was quiet, Lucilla’s loud, hearty laughter could often be heard around the academy grounds.

Unlike with Luber, who I often ran into in the library, I had never seen Lucilla there. I could easily guess how she spent her free time.

Benjamin also added a witty comment.

“May I ask what kind of classes you are taking, Senior?”

“Sure, of course. Right now, I’m taking advanced swordsmanship, dagger usage practice, imperial studies, diplomacy and practical case comparisons, introduction to business management, hydrostatics and physics integration, and the empire’s geography and climate. Seven in total. Lucilla, on the other hand, is aiming for the position of the commander of the Imperial Knights, so she takes more survival classes than I do.”

Shaden had said that the second prince was likely aiming for the throne. Seeing Luber casually mention imperial studies and diplomacy, it seemed he had such thoughts in mind too.

If Lucilla, the twin, were to take the position of commander of the Imperial Knights, it would surely help Luber in gaining political support.

As I pondered this, I cut a suitable portion of the food in front of me and put it in my mouth.

During this, Benjamin asked a few more questions with courtesy, and the meal continued in a pleasant atmosphere.

From this conversation, I learned that Luber was considering the possibility of becoming emperor, and at the same time, he had aspirations to travel around the empire to see the land with his own eyes. He had even wanted to become a historian when he was very young.

A boy who, born as the emperor’s son, had once dreamed of being a historian.

I paused for a moment, thinking about whether this could be considered a sign of a child’s growth. When Luber noticed my gaze, it seemed like he was waiting for an explanation, so he smiled and added to the conversation.

“When I was little, I couldn’t believe that some people were older than my grandfather. Like how little kids tend to like dragon or witch stories, I loved anything that had to do with old stories. I would read history books and imagine all sorts of things.”

“For example, what kind of things did you imagine?”

“Well, like if I met a historical figure, how I should greet them, stuff like that.”

Luber went on to mention various historical figures he admired, but both Benjamin and I seemed puzzled by most of them, so he stopped.

He asked if there were any difficult matters within the academy or if he could help with anything. Without much hesitation, I answered that there was nothing.

Even if there were problems, there was nothing he could do to help.

The only thing that troubled me was the looming date for the next exam, which was making my chest feel tight.

He also asked about my family. I talked a little about the gentle and affectionate traditions of the Ernhardt family and bragged about my younger sibling.

Benjamin shared that his family was a bit blunt, but they were very good at making sure he was well-fed.

I also heard a bit about the Emperor and the Third Princess, some private stories. From what I gathered, it seemed like the tale of a warm-hearted and broad-minded father and a mischievous little sister, which wasn’t bad at all.

However, Luber didn’t speak about his mother, the Empress.

It didn’t seem like the kind of thing I should bring up, especially since we weren’t that close. I figured I would hear about it in the next class, so I decided not to mention it and wrapped up the conversation.

* * *

On the weekend, I was absorbed in memorizing the names for my classes, just like before.

April had begun.

The climate was milder than usual, and on the far side of the wide land where we practiced basic swordsmanship, wisteria vines stretched long, with a few early purple buds blooming here and there. The fragrance was thick and rich, tickling my nose even during class.

It was amusing to see some people sneezing, saying “Achoo.”

I thought that if I could pick some of those flowers, sauté them in plenty of oil with a few spices, it would be a delicious dish — just imagining it made my mouth water.

I casually asked Shaden about it, and he told me that here, there was no tradition of cooking flowers in such a way. Instead, they would decorate sweet pastries with fresh flowers as a garnish.

He also mentioned that wisteria flowers could cause stomach problems if not properly cooked, so they weren’t eaten raw. I hadn’t known this, as I had never been particularly interested in cooking.

He added that it was a bit funny that I wanted to eat them, simply because I found them beautiful.

Memories of a time when people had to survive on wild roots and herbs, comforting and coaxing peasants, surged to my throat, but I held my tongue.

Instead, I said something else.

“I read in a book that if you wash and dry these roots, they can be used as medicine. It’s said to be good for elderly people with joint problems, and some people even drink it as tea.”

“Really? Is that from Owen’s culture?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember it very clearly.”

As I thought about it, I wondered if the wisteria here was the same species as the one from the Central Plains, but I ended the conversation vaguely.

It was always like this when thinking about the local vegetation. It was difficult to remember that what was edible in the Central Plains might not be the same here in Shierun.

Without realizing it, my hands and feet were moving in a way that reflected the vastness of the sky, something akin to the idea of the vastness of the heavens.

My roots still remained there, in that place.

“No, it seems like it’s not that. Don’t just pick things up and eat them randomly.”

“I’m not going to eat them. Besides, those flowers are ornamental, not for eating. Enjoy them with your eyes, not with your mouth.”

“Alright, let’s do that.”

It felt strange, almost as if I had been the one to suggest picking and eating the flowers first. Complaining in a childish manner, I kept looking up at the wisteria vines even after the class had ended.

The flowers were beautiful to look at during the day, but even more so in the evening, they had a wistful, ethereal quality.

Their color and light reminded me of my mother, or perhaps my youngest sibling’s hair.

Looking at something so beautiful with my eyes and breathing in its sweet fragrance, other classmates also gathered around to enjoy the flowers.

We agreed to bring some snacks or treats next time and share them during the lunch break after class, and I happily agreed to that.