The weekend didn’t pass quietly. Before classes began, I had planned to visit Sylvia in her office, but soone decided to interrupt my rest much earlier than expected.
Knock, knock.
The dry sound of knuckles against wood echoed through the room on Saturday morning, cutting through the silence.
"Adela, tell whoever it is that I’m busy" I grumbled, shifting in bed and burying myself under the pillow in annoyance.
Normally, I spend these days with Margery or Adela, but it wasn’t common for the forr to co looking for this early. Whoever was on the other side of the door either didn’t know well enough—or simply had no idea that there’s no way I’m getting up early on a Saturday.
"Adela..." I repeated, my voice muffled by the pillow—, "tell them to get lost."
I settled back in, trying to pick up the thread of sleep that the previous night had stolen from , but the persistent knocking continued. It seed my visitor was not only an early riser, but also dangerously persistent.
Finally, the knocking stopped.
I thought Adela had taken care of it, but later I would find out that persistence had another face: my visitor was calmly having tea with Adela while waiting for to wake up.
At least they had the decency not to interrupt my routine.
"Valeria Astaford" I said upon seeing her—. "May I ask what my fiancée’s best friend is doing looking for this early? And in my room, no less."
She looked at and imdiately flushed deeply upon noticing my state. I’m not exactly the most presentable when I wake up; her gaze drifted uncontrollably from my face down to my bare chest.
"Adela, bring a shirt" I ordered calmly.
Once I put it on, I turned back to my visitor with a teasing smile.
"Better now, or are you going to keep devouring with your eyes?"
Her blush deepened, but she quickly regained her untouchable swordswoman composure, trying to hide the fact that her level-five warrior poise had crumbled at the sight of a simple bare torso.
I sat down on a nearby chair while Adela brought sothing to eat, moving with her usual efficient calm.
"Well... are you going to say sothing?" I asked again, breaking the silence.
Valeria shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked at intently and, after what seed like an internal struggle to gather courage, finally said what was on her mind:
"I want you to teach ."
She said it with a confidence that felt strange for soone in her position.
"Teach you? As far as I know, I’m not a professor here" I replied, taking a sip of my drink and trying to brush off what she was really asking.
"Don’t dodge the question like that" —she shot back, her voice hardening—. "You know perfectly well why I’m asking. The ability to kill a level-seven beast without using aura or mana, relying only on pure swordsmanship... that kind of technique is exactly what I’ve been searching for. So, please."
"And where did you get the idea that I can do sothing like that?" I replied indifferently, while thinking to myself: Seems Cassane couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
Valeria clenched her fists on her knees, clearly frustrated by my evasive attitude.
"You keep going in circles... are you always like this?" she snapped, raising her voice slightly—. "I understand if you don’t want to teach , but don’t treat like a child."
She held my gaze, and for a mont, her earlier blush completely vanished, replaced by a spark of indignation.
I adjusted my posture, abandoning my relaxed deanor to match her determination. My expression turned serious as I locked eyes with her.
"You know I don’t want to do it" I said flatly—, "and yet you ca here to insist."
Valeria swallowed but didn’t back down. She leaned forward slightly, her voice filled with restrained urgency.
"I can..." —she hesitated for a mont, searching for the right words—. "I can give you whatever you want. Gold, my family’s secret techniques, high-grade potions, runic weapons... just na it. There has to be sothing you desire that I, as the heir of a duchy, can offer."
She ant it. She was offering the Astaford family’s wealth in exchange for a secret that, in theory, soone like shouldn’t possess.
Adela, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow with interest; even she seed surprised by the desperation of the "prodigy swordswoman."
Seeing how persistent she was, I couldn’t help but think of Luowei. In the world I ca from, she had been just as relentless, begging over and over to help her with her sword techniques. What Valeria was asking stirred a wave of nostalgia I had honestly thought I’d left behind.
"Fine" I said, letting out a sigh as I set my cup down.
Valeria held her breath. Her eyes lit up with relief and renewed intensity, convinced that her offer of wealth and duchies had finally worked. She leaned forward, waiting for my conditions.
"But no" I said coldly, looking her straight in the eyes—. "My answer is still no."
The light in her gaze vanished instantly, replaced by complete confusion.
"What? But you just said"
"I said it’s fine that you insist, not that I’d accept" —I cut her off without a hint of remorse—. "You don’t have anything that interests enough to make waste my ti teaching you."
Valeria lowered her head, visibly dejected. Her pride as a prodigy warrior seed to crumble under my response.
"At least... could you give so advice?" she murmured, almost pleading—. "I’m not asking you to teach directly, but... could I co have tea with you and talk about swordsmanship? Is that too much to ask?"
I looked at her in silence, weighing the situation. I figured that continuing to refuse would only make her insist more—or build unnecessary resentnt.
I studied her expression, considering how much I would lose by giving in, even a little.
"Fine" I said at last—. "You can ask questions if you have doubts, but don’t expect much from . I’m not your tutor."
Valeria imdiately looked up. It wasn’t the firm "yes" she wanted, but a small spark of hope returned to her eyes.
Adela, in the background, let out a resigned sigh as she poured another cup, already aware that we now had a recurring guest for our Saturday mornings.
It didn’t take long for her interrogation to begin. She first asked how I had learned, whether I had a master or so hidden lineage; but when she realized I wouldn’t reveal anything about my past, she quickly changed approach. She began describing the techniques passed down by her ancestors, seeking my validation.
At first, I simply listened. As she described the movents, I noticed that the techniques she spoke of were suspiciously similar to those from the cultivation world. It was likely that a cultivator had passed through this world long ago, leaving behind practices that had been preserved—though sowhat distorted—by their descendants.
"So... what do you think?" —she asked, her eyes shining almost childishly—. "I don’t understand why this initial stance imdiately transitions into the next one. It’s like... like sothing is missing in between, right?"
Her instinct wasn’t wrong.
"It’s not that sothing’s missing" I said, setting my cup down and standing up—. "It’s that your energy flow is misdirected. Your technique explains the movents, but not how to control your internal energy."
Valeria wasn’t satisfied with just words. She jumped to her feet and, after asking for permission with a glance, began executing her family’s form right there in the middle of my room. Her movents were precise and powerful, but when she reached that specific transition, her flow broke abruptly—like a river crashing into a wall.
"See? It’s here" —she said, frustrated, her breathing slightly uneven—. "I feel my aura stagnating."
I stepped closer. With a sharp motion, I adjusted her shoulder position and the angle of her hips. The contact was brief, but Valeria tensed as if struck by electricity; her cheeks flushed again, but this ti she didn’t look away.
"That transition confusing you isn’t a physical movent—it’s a breath" —I murmured near her ear, correcting the trajectory of her arm—. "Try it like this, and you’ll see that your aura doesn’t stop—it flows."
She tried again, following my guidance. The air in the room seed to vibrate when, for the first ti in her life, she completed the technique without resistance. Valeria froze, staring at her own hands. She realized that I understood her family’s legacy better than her own ancestors.
"Think about it" —I said, turning away to signal the end of the eting—. "I have things to do."
She clearly wanted to ask more, but understood I had already helped her too much for one day. She said her goodbyes reluctantly, walking toward the door as if in a trance.
Once she left, Adela shot a sideways glance, as if holding accountable for what she had just witnessed.
"Master, don’t you think you already have too many admirers circling you?" —she said sarcastically—. "If you keep giving that fanatic "advice", it won’t take long before she tries to sneak into your bed to see what else she can get from you."
I laughed as I finished getting ready, brushing it off.
"Don’t exaggerate, Adela. I just corrected a couple of postures."
"Yeah, right. And she left here like she’d just been given the secret of life" —she replied, stepping closer to adjust my clothes with obvious possessiveness.
I gave her one last smile before heading out. I went straight to Director Sylvia’s office. I had to settle this soon; later I still had to go see Margery, and I didn’t want to be late.
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