The House Selection took place about half a month ago.
As for my decision… Well, it's obvious.
I joined the House of Swords.
I didn't exactly have a choice.
Refusing an offer from the SSS-rank Swordsaint herself would've branded me as the arrogant fool who thought he was above it all. And that's exactly the kind of attention I want to avoid.
That said, as much as I'd like to complain, joining the House of Swords isn't all that bad.
I don't mind the extra stares that come from being the one personally chosen by the head of the House. I'm not exactly an introvert, after all—I simply prefer to keep a low profile. I enjoy the quiet.
Silence can be beautiful, but too much of it can be stifling.
…
One evening, I sat by the fountain. The orange glow of the setting sun scattered across the rippling waters, making them shimmer like a field of pearls.
This had somehow become one of my daily habits ever since I entered the House of Swords.
Every day was the same. Training and sparring.
I had never touched a sword before in my life, yet now I was to become a swordsman. For the House of Swords, no less.
From morning till dusk, it was nothing but practice. I had to train and train and train some more, all so that I could train a little more the next day, and the day after that.
There was no end to it. My palms had already started swelling red from the tight grip I had to maintain all day.
But after all that training, I always got a little peace in the evening. By then, all the members of the House would have gone to their designated living quarters. Even the ones who could occasionally be seen would mind their own business.
I had this silence all to myself.
Or so I thought—
Smack! Smash!
"Please… le.. t… me go… I said I'm so.. rry…"
"Take that! And that! This ought to teach you your place, you damn commoner! You ratted me out!"
"No, I swear… I didn't…"
Three boys were ganging up on a kid.
Normally, it wouldn't have bothered me.
I would've sighed, maybe rolled my eyes, and looked away.
But the problem was that this little skirmish of theirs was happening right behind me, near the fountain. They probably noticed me. But for some reason, they didn't call me out. And by the time I realized it, it was already too late to slip away unnoticed.
So now, I was just sitting there, trying my best to pretend that I was completely blind and tone-deaf at the same time!
The longer I sat there, the more awkward it became.
My hands rested on my knees, stiff, as if moving even an inch would expose the fact that I was very much aware of everything happening behind me.
I wanted to sigh. But I didn't.
Trying to stay as unnoticed as possible, I did not dare to look behind, fixing my amber-grey eyes on the water.
"Oi."
The sudden call made my shoulders flinch.
One of the bullies had finally noticed me—or rather, decided it was convenient to notice me now.
"You're just gonna sit there? Hah. Figures. The pretty boy with the Swordsaint backing him up thinks he's too good to get involved with the rest of us."
'Pretty boy? Me? Come on.'
I shrugged inwardly and turned my head slightly, eyes meeting his for a brief second before drifting away as if not caring about what he said at all.
If I had hoped that would be the end of it, I was wrong.
"You think you're better than me, don't you?" The boy spat, releasing the kid he'd been grabbing by the collar. He took a step forward.
"Why don't you prove it? A duel. Right here, right now. Let's see what you got."
The other two laughed and egged him on. The beaten kid shrank back, trying to escape.
I rubbed my swollen palms together, the sting a harsh reminder of the day's training.
'I really don't want to do this. My hands hurt. Really bad.' I pleaded in my heart but did not let it surface.
"But, as you can see… I don't have my sword with me at the moment.
Can we not? Maybe some other time… yes?"
The boy sniggered at my excuse and shouted at one of his lackeys, "Come on, give him yours."
As ordered, I was handed a sword. It was longer than the one I usually trained with, but surprisingly light. I looked at the sharpness of the blade for a moment before slowly looking up.
Now that I looked closer, I knew this guy. He was Kale Gregor. That tall and handsome guy who was called upon before me in the House Selection.
'Wait, isn't he a B-Rank? This is bad. I can't defeat him.'
I rose from the fountain slowly, brushing off the dust clinging to my trousers.
Suddenly, the sword in my hand felt heavy. I looked at it while the tip of the sword was reflected in my eyes. Then, I let out a long, deep, suffering sigh.
I looked up and my eyes met Kale Gregor's.
He was taller, broader, and far more confident than I could ever pretend to be.
'I really don't get how it came to this. Can't we just talk it off somehow?'
For a moment, my knees wanted to give in. My body screamed to sit back down, to disappear into the quiet again.
But I couldn't, not with the three of them surrounding me, a helpless C-Ranker. Not to mention, my lack of swordsmanship.
"…Fine." My voice was faint, almost lost beneath the trickling fountain.
Kale raised his sword, swinging it with an easy grace that betrayed my countless hours of training.
"Don't disappoint me, pretty boy!"
"Can we not call me that?" I muttered, taking a defensive position. "It feels weird."
The first strike came fast and hard. It hit the edge of my sword, making it—along with my whole body—vibrate slightly.
Then came another one, without a recoil from the first slash.
Instinctively, I stepped back, the blade missing my shoulder by a hair. My heart pounded as I barely twisted out of the way of the second.
'That was too close.'
Somehow, my trembling arms managed to parry the third. The clash of steel rattled my bones, but I was still standing.
Kale's grin widened as he started to gain speed and momentum.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
I barely parried the slashes as I pivoted backwards.
"Not bad." He pressed harder, attacking again and again, but I slipped away each time, my body moving with a desperation that surprised even me.
This time, I sidestepped at the last second.
From that, Kale suddenly lost his momentum and faltered in his steps.
I saw that and swiftly got behind him and, seizing the chance, I shoved him hard from behind.
He toppled over the fountain's railing and crashed into it, water splashing everywhere.
As I saw that, I couldn't help but grin a little.
I suddenly became hopeful.
Maybe… maybe I can actually win.
The thought flickered across my mind like a dangerous spark.
I looked to my left where his two lackeys were. Adherently, they had caught the poor little kid from before.
If one of them was busy holding the kid, then I might be able to take down the other.
But before my planning was finished, I heard a faint grunt, followed by water dripping on the marble floors below.
It was Kale.
His smirk was gone now, replaced by a glare burning hotter than the setting sun.
With a sudden roar, Kale lunged. He charged at me like a maddened bull, his blade whistling through the air in a wild arc. One slash, then another, faster than I could react.
I barely raised my sword, but the force numbed my arms and left me stumbling.
Before I could regain my balance, a fist slammed into my stomach.
The air was ripped from my lungs. My knees buckled.
I gasped, doubled over, but Kale wasn't done. He dropped his sword with a clang, grabbing my collar with both hands. Then he started punching me.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Over and over, crashing into my ribs, my jaw, my face. I tasted blood. The world blurred. Each blow rang in my skull like a bell.
Somewhere in the background, I heard the other boys laughing.
I wanted to resist, to push him off, but my arms refused to listen.
My surroundings started melting into darkness as my body finally gave in.
And at that moment, as I closed my eyes, a strange thought echoed in my head.
Let's take a short nap.
…
When I came to, I was sprawled on the cold marble floor.
Blood coated me. My eyes, my nose, my cheeks—swollen to the point of disfigurement. My skin, a bruised shade of violet.
I lay there limply, eyes half-lidded, reflecting the crescent moon that hung silently above.