Chapter 475: New Master
A day passed—just like that—and before I realized it, six full days had gone by since the start of my so-called short winter vacation.
Almost a week of nonstop tension and occasional relief, fluctuating between chaos and quiet.
A strange kind of rhythm. Expected problems showed up right on ti, and unexpected ones… well, they didn’t exactly knock before barging in either.
Most of it had been stressful—annoying, even—but, to be honest, it was still far better than I’d originally anticipated.
Liyana, for one, had been acting strange in a number of ways. Subtle shifts in her expressions, her words, even how she moved around .
But if I boiled it all down, it seed like she was just… confused. Curious. And that was fine.
Confusion was manageable. Curiosity was tolerable. As long as she stayed within those lines.
Of course, that didn’t an I wasn’t wary.
Especially after that night—the one where she did sothing very Liyana-like, though, strangely, it had been far more subdued than I expected.
No chaos. No gas. Just a muted attempt at sothing I couldn’t quite na.
The rest of the girls showing up here without warning? Yeah, that wasn’t part of any plan I approved.
But despite the noise, the jealousy, and the inevitable conflict that followed, it sohow turned out better than I could’ve imagined.
I’d gotten closer to them—not just physically, but emotionally too, in ways I didn’t think would co so soon.
Sohow, each of them had established a place in my life, and in my ho.
Even the Grand Duke, who, in reality, probably held one of the most powerful voices when it ca to my relationship involving his daughter, had seemingly accepted the situation.
That in itself felt unreal.
Especially when my connection with Liyana… wasn’t exactly tied down yet.
Still, all things considered, things had settled.
All’s well that ends well, they say.
And yet…
I couldn’t shake the feeling. That gnawing itch at the back of my mind.
Why did it feel like the calm was only temporary?
Like sothing far more troubleso was already on its way?
Or maybe I’m just overthinking things again.
Always expecting the worst when it cos to Liyana.
Always second-guessing her every move, waiting for the mont she snaps back into the obsessive, unpredictable version of herself I’ve grown so cautious of.
But lately… she’s been different.
Strangely friendly. Surprisingly ta. The antics, the teasing, the monts where she used to cross the line—gone, or at least, held back.
Maybe that’s what’s throwing off.
I’m not used to this side of her.
The quieter, more composed Liyana.
And while it’s definitely a huge improvent over her usual clingy, borderline possessive behavior, part of can’t help but feel suspicious.
After all, if the ‘final boss’ side of her really does exist—and I know it does—then maybe this is just the calm before the storm.
Still… I can’t deny that right now, she’s acting eerily similar to that version of her—the one from the other world.
The one who didn’t just love , but stood by until the end. That thought alone is enough to ss with my head.
Whatever the case may be, it’s probably best to just keep an eye on her. Monitor things. No drastic actions yet. She hasn’t done anything that would hurt .
Not yet, at least.
“Right hand forward, left hand gripping the end of the hilt!”
The sudden bark of a command snapped out of my thoughts.
Beon Gyeoul—now officially my master—stood beside , exuding the kind of strict, disciplined aura you’d expect from a master who’s trained through generations of combat.
“Like this?” I asked, shifting my stance accordingly.
He clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“Tsk. You’ve got perfect form when it cos to the technique itself, but why is your posture so sloppy when it cos to the basics?”
I scratched my cheek, unsure how to explain it without revealing too much.
“Well…”
If only I could say, “My body learns on its own through a skill system that copies movents perfectly as long as I activate them.” But yeah, not exactly sothing I could casually drop in front of a guy like Beon.
“…I never really went through proper sword training from the beginning,”
Beon’s brow twitched.
“That explains a lot,” he muttered under his breath, arms crossed. “This is exactly why I hate geniuses. They skip steps and think they’re invincible.”
I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Master.”
“Don’t call that so casually. And don’t smile like that either,” he grunted, turning away. “Back to the first form. Again.”
“Yes, Master.”
And just like that, the lecture continued.
Right now, Beon Gyeoul—the clan Head of the Gyeoul family and one of the most feared swordsn alive—was officially training .
After yesterday’s duel, in which I technically defeated him, he kept his word without complaint.
As absurd as it was to think about, the man who once stood at the peak of a generation was now my teacher.
We were back at the sa location where we fought—an isolated field nestled behind my family’s estate, shielded by tall trees and thick snow-covered foliage.
The remnants of our battle were still visible: scorched grass, deep slashes in the earth, and a lingering pressure that hadn’t fully dissipated.
And now, instead of throwing fatal strikes, we were practicing basic sword forms.
Basics.
I never really had any formal sword training.
All my skills were either acquired through system chanics or observation-based skill learning or from the unnatural mories I have of my other lives.
But now, Beon was hamring those missing fundantals into . Literally.
Today’s focus was on the essential groundwork behind the [Hidden Blade Technique]—a style so advanced that only his blood line could even hope of replicating it,
But before I could get to the cool stuff behind the essentials of the technique itself, I had to drill the boring stuff.
Even though Beon still acted like a cranky, short-tempered old man, despite the fact that he looked like he hadn’t aged past his thirties, I could tell he was… pleased.
Beneath all that sharp scolding and theatrical grumbling, there was a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.
I guess I impressed him more than I’d intended yesterday.
Well, considering what I accidentally did—like, you know, temporarily killing him before reviving him with a divine spell—this sort of outco might’ve been the best-case scenario.
I took a breath and swung my training sword in a wide arc, trying to replicate the form he’d demonstrated earlier.
I could feel the heat of my mana rising, instinctively trying to pour into the blade the way I always fought.
SLAP!
A sharp sting ran across my back as Beon struck with his training stick.
“Don’t even think about using your mana, you brat!”
I staggered forward from the absurd amount of strength behind that smack. It felt like a club made out of iron rather than wood.
“…You could’ve just said that,” I muttered under my breath.
But I kept my mouth shut after that. I didn’t want to provoke him into turning into a human pincushion.
As much of a tyrant as he was with his training, I had to admit—I was learning sothing.
Even though we were still just scratching the surface, understanding the principles behind this technique felt surprisingly satisfying.
There was sothing honest about going back to the roots. Stripping everything down and starting from nothing. It was humbling, sure, but also… grounding.
As much as I wanted to skip ahead to the practical applications—to the real moves and actual combat—I knew this was important.
And more importantly, I had already secured Beon as my master.
Given his personality, I could already tell he wouldn’t rest until he sculpted into sothing that t his ridiculously high standards.
Knowing him, the guy was probably enjoying this more than he’d ever admit.
He might even be secretly smug about having soone like as a disciple.
Though considering the way he fought, and how seriously he was taking this whole thing, it was obvious.
In his eyes, I was still rough. Incomplete.
And that was a good thing.
This kind of training wasn’t doing much for my actual skill level or system proficiency—at least not directly.
It wasn’t like I was gaining EXP or unlocking so passive buff just by repeating basic stances over and over again.
But even so… I had to admit, it was kind of fun. In theory, at least.
And more than that, I was getting to spend more ti with him. That in itself was a win.
Back in the ga, I’d always viewed this old man—Beon Gyeoul—as nothing more than a ridiculously overpowered yet emotionally unavailable side character.
He was the stereotypical “neglectful master” type, the one who drops cryptic advice and disappears for twenty episodes.
But reality had a strange way of subverting expectations.
The man standing beside now, barking orders and slapping with a wooden stick, was much more ticulous.
Cranky, sure. But thorough.
I could see the way he watched every angle of my swing, every twitch of my shoulder muscles.
He was paying attention.
And now… I’d secured another vital piece for the future.
Beon Gyeoul wasn’t just a relic of the old world. He was one of the last living Ascended—beings who had broken through the human limit and touched a higher threshold of power. Having soone like him as an ally, or even a ntor, would be a massive advantage for what was to co.
With Lavine on my side too—an Ascended in her own right—I was slowly, piece by piece, collecting the best of the best. Key characters, hidden assets. My future was starting to look well-insulated.
Grinning to myself, I broke the rhythm of my swing and casually asked, “By the way, Master… what kind of things does Seo like?”
SLAP!
The wooden staff struck my back so hard I genuinely wondered if a rib had cracked.
“What the hell was that for?!”
“Shut the hell up, you brat! Focus on your stance!”
I straightened up with a cough, biting down a groan as I rubbed my aching back.
This old man might’ve accepted the outco of our duel, but it was clear that his approval—especially when it ca to my relationship with Seo—was still very much up in the air.
“You know I’m going to marry Seo in the end, right?” I said casually, with just enough sass in my voice to rile him up. “You should start getting used to the idea of being a grandfather, Master.”
The air imdiately changed.
A spark of purple lightning flashed down his arm, and a blade shimred into existence in his hand as if summoned from the very air.
“Don’t. You. Dare. Call that… you little bastard.”
Yeah… I may have gone a bit too far.
Laughing nervously, I stepped back and raised my hands in surrender. “Noted. No grandpa jokes. Got it.”
I guess teasing Beon Gyeoul had its limits.
Still… the look on his face?
That flicker of irritation barely masking his deep concern?
It was proof that he did care, in his own strange, tsundere-old-man way.
“By the way Grandfather how many great-grand children do you want…?”
“Die Brat!”
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