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

And then came Thursday, the day for advanced swordsmanship lessons.

My usual group of five, familiar and friendly, gathered together to watch each other’s sparring, practice sword forms, and ask Maelo Sanson for a few pointers.

After much deliberation, I gave up on the idea of mixing a new sword form into Namgung’s technique. Instead, I decided to focus on finding the similarities between different forms and attempting to link them together.

After class, during lunch, I had no idea if the food was entering through my mouth or nose. It was all thanks to Princess Lucilla Anti Sieron, who, without having drunk a drop of alcohol, was speaking loudly, making a commotion as if she were intoxicated. Her way of speaking was difficult to adapt to, no matter how many times I heard it.

After much thought, I suggested to her friend, Matt Nico, that he join us for Friday’s magical technique practice since he was good at handling the princess, but he declined.

When I asked why, Matt Nico explained that he had a regular task every Friday, so I didn’t press him further.

Once the chaotic meal time passed, the aura class began.

Having already decided after careful thought about Douglas Mustang and Mage Boulder’s suggestion, no other wizards came to visit.

Instead, Professor Douglas asked me if I would try using aura in the Sieron way. It seemed he had heard that I had recently learned how to use cold magic.

“Aura… you mean?”

“Until now, Ernhardt, you could only use purified aura, right? But if you’ve succeeded in drawing mana from the atmosphere, wouldn’t it be worth trying to learn how to use Sieron’s method? There should be no problem in mixing aura with new mana, right?”

“Hmmm… No, that’s not the case.”

“I thought so. If you couldn’t properly control the energy you were using, it would have clashed and sent you to the infirmary. Since Professor Angela Sting said there’s no major issue, I think it’s worth trying.”

“Hmm.”

“The way you use aura hasn’t been verified yet, right? If your goal is to become a Grand Sword Master, then trying methods that have been proven for hundreds of years might not be a bad choice either.”

“Hmm…”

In the Central Plains, the Namgung family name was grand and respected. Even people from Anhui wouldn’t omit the name when counting the five great families. Hundreds of names of peerless masters were written in the family records.

The mental techniques had been passed down for generations, and thousands had practiced them. I considered it a safe and verified path. However, before asserting the tradition and legitimacy of Chang-Gung Daeyeon’s teachings, I carefully pondered how valid Professor Douglas’s argument was.

Listening to him had never led me astray.

In the Central Plains, internal energy cultivation focused on refining natural energies and storing them in the body.

The pure energy was absorbed through breathing and stored in the lower abdomen, below the navel, a third body organ that could not be seen with the eyes but was sensed with the body.

Sieron’s method, on the other hand, could be described as structuring mana from the immaterial realm.

Thus, the refined energy inside the body was measured in “gapja” units. One gapja was an achievement that could only be reached after sixty years of basic training in pure energy cultivation.

In my past life, I had accumulated 2 gapja of internal energy and attained enlightenment, opening my lower abdomen and achieving an extraordinary state.

It was said that martial artists in Huajing could wield enormous energy in the upper abdomen, reaching 3 or 4 gapja and causing the earth and sky to fall apart in harmony.

Meanwhile, in Sieron, they used raw natural power without refinement.

Sieron’s martial artists trained their bodies to withstand the natural energy without falling apart when it was drawn in.

They focused more on external martial arts training than internal energy cultivation.

Though a few families in the Central Plains valued external cultivation, many looked down on it as an ignorant practice. I was hesitant, wondering if I could reach a higher level without internal energy cultivation.

But then I suddenly realized that I was still only thirteen years old.

If possible, combining both internal and external training would surely be a great help.

I nodded enthusiastically.

“I will do that.”

“Since your eyes have already been opened to the aura, it would be best to practice drawing the energy from the atmosphere and channeling it into your sword. Just like the other students do. I’ll demonstrate and keep an eye on you, so don’t worry—just try your best.”

“Yes, Professor.”

And so, I practiced drawing the aura in a way different from my usual training.

Instead of pulling mana through my lower abdomen and discarding it, I tried to channel it into my sword. I understood the method, but it was difficult, almost like moving someone else’s hand.

I wasn’t sure how mana, aura, and internal energy would interact with each other.

Professor Mustang repeatedly emphasized that this method should not be practiced alone and should only be attempted under his watch, so I nodded in agreement.

* * *

On Friday morning, I passed along Professor Douglas’s message to Maelo Sanson.

He said that the three of us should meet sometime, and I agreed.

It seemed better for the professors to match their schedules first, rather than me, a student, dealing with the hassle. Once the date was set, I promised to follow along.

Sheyden Rose and Benjamin Claudian also listened in on the conversation.

Unlike Benjamin, Sheyden had only a vague understanding of the mental techniques I used, and he seemed intrigued by it.

When Benjamin proudly spoke about when Professor Douglas had asked if I was a dragon, Sheyden burst out laughing loudly.

I scolded him not to tease me, but he apologized and continued to stifle his laughter for a while, which I didn’t appreciate.

“Well, I get why such a thing came up. Dragons are often depicted as beautiful, after all.”

“Big and round.”

“That’s not true, Ernhardt.”

“That’s just in fairy tales for children.”

“In Sieron Empire, there are so many dragon enthusiasts, how can you say that? Even here, Lord Claudian seems disappointed. I wonder if that book is in the Academy library, I’d like to show you…”

“The Complete History of 21 Dragons?”

“You have that? I heard it was a limited edition before we were born!”

“My father passed it down to me. Would you like to borrow it, Ernhardt?”

“No, thanks.”

A bit of curiosity sparked, but I didn’t want to be teased again. Above all, I knew best that I wasn’t a dragon.

I was a man born and raised in the Central Plains, and I had lived and died as a human. There had never been a time when I wasn’t human.

Why would I need to learn about ethereal beings that may or may not even exist?

It would be much more helpful to memorize the types of monsters I’d need to hunt and kill. With that thought in mind, I declined again, and Benjamin didn’t push the matter further.

Benjamin and I arrived at the stealth arts practice area where we met the twin prince and princess.

When we arrived, it seemed like they were in the middle of some kind of argument. However, as soon as they noticed me, they quickly fell silent, so I couldn’t tell what the conversation had been about.

I wasn’t particularly curious, so instead of asking, I decided to unpack my bundle of throwing knives.

I adjusted my stance and threw the knives several times.

The first one missed awkwardly, but from the second throw onward, I managed to hit the target.

Once again, practicing only once a week felt insufficient. Back in Central China, it was common to practice a single sword technique from morning to evening.

Training for just two hours once a week and hoping for sudden improvements was a bit greedy, if not unreasonable.

Still, I managed to get the hang of it, and without channeling my internal energy, I was able to stick the knife into the target, which wasn’t too bad. Prince Ruber, standing beside me, praised me, clapping his hands and cheering me on, which made me smile briefly.

Ruber was sixteen now, wasn’t he? I remembered when I was fifteen, the first time I had cut off a person’s neck, then continued to cut down every dark spell in my path.

At that time, I had been trying to put on a tough face to hide my youthful embarrassment. It must have looked ridiculous to the older folks. Ruber was just like that now.

He tried to act mature, but there was nothing mature about him. He tried to act imposing, but lacked the gravitas. Despite his taller stature compared to others, he had an awkward charm that made him endearing.

“You don’t need to say that. I know my own skill.”

“…No, I genuinely meant it. It’s not easy to throw a dagger and hit the target from this distance. Considering we practice only once a week, you’re learning quickly.”

“Hmm.”

When I heard that, I found it somewhat reasonable. I didn’t know what kind of serpent lurked inside me, but I could understand why this innocent boy was genuinely impressed.

However, unlike him, I was all too aware of my shortcomings. Despite promising myself not to feel anxious, my nature drove me to continually improve.

“I see. I’ll take your word for it,” I said, taking another knife in hand.

While I stood in front of the 10-meter target, Ruber and Benjamin were further away, standing before a 20-meter target.

Ruber was busy teaching Benjamin various skills when suddenly, she called out to me in a loud voice.

“Ernhardt Young Master! Ernhardt Young Master! Ernhardt Yooooung Master!”

“One call is enough, I can hear you clearly.”

“You seem a bit distracted today. How about calling it a day? After all, it’s ‘that day’ too.”

“…What?”

“It’s the third Friday of the month. Didn’t you know?”

I couldn’t have not known.

The third Friday of every month was when the night market opened. I had gone out with some friends from the camping class before, buying various things and enjoying ourselves.

However, today I had promised to spend the afternoon practicing, so I wasn’t planning to go outside. I stood silently, watching Lucilla, then glanced up at Ruber.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes avoided mine, and I stared into his dark pupils for a moment. Then, I looked up at the sky and checked the time.

There was a clock inside the practice area, but I was more accustomed to judging the time by the angle of the sun.

“Ruber, do you feel the same way?”

“…No.”

This time, I looked over at Benjamin Clouden. Benjamin, who had glanced at me briefly, quickly crossed the safety line and began retrieving the daggers stuck in the target. Seeing him made up my mind.