Chapter 13

Every dawn, at the place where he trained diligently with the Duke’s knights, Dale drew a sword. It was a Stiletto, favored as a secondary weapon by the knights.

He spun the hilt to adjust his grip, testing its feel lightly.

‘Just right.’

It was a real sword, its blade gleaming blue-black.

Similarly, in the hands of Charlotte Orhart, the girl facing off against Dale, lies a sharp rapier.

A duel with real swords. Yet, by Dale’s standards, it would likely be no different than indulging a child’s whims. She wasn’t using magic, and her true weapon, the ‘Shadow Cloak’, was nowhere to be seen.

“Fight me.”

The moment the girl uttered that man’s name, Dale knew. He was well aware of the Holy Knight’s twisted sense of humor.

What happened to the mother and daughter of the Orhart family, and why did they come all the way to the Duchy of Saxony? And why is the girl before me displaying such absurd stubbornness?

I will defeat the genius of the ducal house and prove that I can protect the Orhart family with my own strength.

It’s not for Dale to say, but ultimately, it’s the thinking of a child who doesn’t understand reality.

“Attack with everything you’ve got.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that!”

Therefore, I have a duty to tell her. How harsh and cold the true reality is that this young blonde girl, Charlotte, finds herself in. As the one who brought endless winter into her life.

Thwack!

Charlotte thrust herself forward, propelling herself off the ground. She excluded all emotion, channeling only the sharp, murderous intent honed to a razor’s edge at the tip of her blade.

‘……!’

It was fast. A speed unbelievable for a child’s movements.

‘She’s utilizing her aura, however feeble.’

Dale, whose combat instincts were honed by nature, could easily guess.

Just as a mage generates magic power through the circle of the heart, overlaying the principles of the world with that force. Knights who accumulate aura within their bodies can likewise transcend the limitations of their own flesh through that power.

──The name and pride of the Daughter of the Divine Sword were never empty words.

KAAANG!

The very motion of charging while gripping the sword hilt was extraordinary.

As soon as Dale parried the rapier thrust, Charlotte twisted the sword’s trajectory with a snap of her wrist. She precisely captured the entire ‘flow’—the clash of blades, the rebound, and the subsequent collision.

Like a fish in water understanding the currents beneath.

Movements only possible through precise grasp of the rapier’s nature. A combat instinct that can only be called innate.

‘I’m overwhelming him!’

The rapiers’ thrusts relentlessly parried the endless barrage, each time snapping back to pierce with relentless precision.

A triumphant smile, certain of victory, briefly flashed across Charlotte’s lips.

“……”

Yet, when it came to being a possessor of heaven-given talent, Dale was hardly in a position to speak.

Moreover, Dale’s greatest strength was never something ‘given by heaven’.

A lifetime honed on the battlefield, forged through experience and wisdom. It’s not a realm a mere bloodling, not even old enough to reach double digits, could hope to touch overnight.

The endless spray of sword shadows from Charlotte’s rapier never reached Dale.

At first, he thought she was merely scrambling to block his relentless assault. But that wasn’t it.

Dale’s expression as he parried her blows showed not a hint of fluster. Moreover, she had begun to dimly realize something earlier.

‘He’s not counterattacking…?’

He was solely defending against Charlotte’s attacks, making no other movements.

A sense of ease permeated the air. The ease of a prosecutor who consistently overwhelmed his opponent.

‘Why won’t it reach!’

The sharp killing intent sharpened at the blade’s edge gradually faded. The composure that should have remained cold began to waver and unravel.

‘Your father was the greatest knight this continent has ever known.’

When Charlotte was born, her father was already no longer of this world. Yet every night before bed, her mother would tell her stories of him.

The heroic deeds of the continent’s greatest swordsman, Sir Badel of the Divine Sword.

Hearing the gossipmongers talk about the eldest son of the Saxon Duke’s family, Charlotte snorted in derision.

A prodigy unmatched in swordsmanship and magic?

‘I am the daughter of the Divine Sword.’

So I thought I could never be defeated by a sword. I should have thought that.

Yet here I am, overwhelmed by a sword—by a ‘mage’ who doesn’t even use aura, who merely has a circle etched into their heart.

After the Knight Order fell, the ‘Imperialist nobles’ who abandoned their homeland did not welcome the Orhart family.

The family’s fortune declined so rapidly even young Charlotte could understand it. Servants dwindled day by day, and the household’s treasures vanished.

Every time that happened, Charlotte recalled the stories her mother told about her father. Her father, whose face she had never even seen.

The Divine Sword, Bader Orhart.

She believed she must now protect the Orhart family in place of her absent father. As the proud and noble daughter of the Divine Sword.

Her composure rapidly crumbled.

Clang!

Suddenly, the rapier in Charlotte’s hand spun wildly through the air. After spinning wildly through the air, the rapier plunged vertically toward the ground beneath Charlotte’s feet.

“Ah…”

A thin line of blood had already formed on her hand gripping the hilt.

Dale’s stiletto struck its first blow.

“Why…?”

That single strike decided the outcome.

“Why can’t I win…?”

Gazing at his own rapier, driven vertically into the ground beneath his feet, he collapsed to his knees, utterly defeated.

“Long ago, Lord Badel of the Divine Sword…”

Dale spoke quietly, recalling the memory of that pale, dark winter night.

“…said that after a duel where neither could be declared superior to the hero of another realm, they both breathed their last together.”

That’s a lie. In a past life, Dale, the hero from another realm, defeated the divine sword knight Bader with his own hands. It’s just that the story afterward was distorted to suit the empire’s tastes.

“If he couldn’t even determine superiority over that so-called monster of a hero, he must have been the continent’s greatest knight.”

“……”

At those words, Charlotte swallowed softly.

In this world, the words spoken about Dale of the past life—the ‘Hero of Another World’—vary greatly from person to person.

Hero of the Empire, hunting dog, patriot, butcher.

But at least one thing they all agreed on was this: he was monstrously strong.

Sir Bader of the Divine Sword was the strongest among those who faced that very monster.

He was so powerful and proud that even a holy knight wouldn’t dare present his credentials to him, a knight of true nobility. That was why Dale spoke of the ‘50% truth’.

“The pride you hold as the daughter of the Divine Sword is not misplaced.”

He affirmed her calmly.

“But as you are now, you absolutely cannot protect the Orhart family from ‘that man’.”

After affirming her, he told her of the harsh winter he had brought with his own hands.

“You’re not a divine sword, and the Holy Knight’s sword is dozens of times stronger than mine right now.”

“Several dozen times…?”

It wasn’t a lie. At the very least, the fact that the man was stronger than ‘Dale at this moment’ was an indisputable truth.

“Ah, ahh…”

That day, the man’s face, twisted into a beastly, hideous grin, flashed before her eyes. Charlotte couldn’t even think of grasping her sword; all she could do was tremble in terror.

The only thing that saved her was her mother’s pitifully pathetic plea.

I couldn’t protect a single thing. That was the fate of a powerless, fallen noble.

“Then what do you expect me to do…?”

Charlotte sobbed, her slender shoulders shaking.

“I know full well we can’t save the family like this…”

The sight of the girl sobbing, unable to hold back the grief welling up inside her.

“Because I’m just a girl, powerless and weak…”

Not a trace of the sharp, cold composure of a swordsman remained—only utter weakness.

“What am I supposed to do…?”

Dale bit her lip softly.

“The sword of ‘Lady Charlotte’ in the future.”

After biting down, Dale said.

“You can become far stronger than you can imagine right now.”

It wasn’t a lie. Even with the Shadow Cloak, Dale’s maximum potential as a swordsman was clear—he couldn’t use aura.

But this girl was different.

“You want revenge?”

“……!”

“Then take my hand.”

That’s why Dale reached out his hand.

It wasn’t some petty fan ceremony directed at Lord Bader.

──He simply recalled the scornful smile of the holy knight who had plunged a blade into his back that day.

He recalled the darkness of the empire that man swore allegiance to.

“Why…?”

“Because it’s worth it.”

At the unexpected answer, Charlotte blinked her eyes as if unable to comprehend.

“Let’s make a promise.”

“A promise…?”

“I, Dale of Saxony, swear on the name of the duke’s house that I will become the protector of the ‘Orhart family’.”

Charlotte possesses the ‘Talent of the Sword’. Even if this battle ended in Dale’s overwhelming victory.

“Until you become strong enough to defeat that man in the future.”

Dale said.

“I and the House of Saxony will be your shield, protecting you with all our might.”

“……What is the price?”

But at Dale’s words, Charlotte retorted with a cold expression. There is no such thing as goodwill without a price in this world. That’s why Dale answered.

“The sword in your hand.”

“……!”

When the future Charlotte blossomed with her talent for the sword and was reborn as the true ‘Daughter of the Divine Sword’.

“Swear here and now that this sword will be wielded for me and the House of Saxony in the future.”

Through the ‘Oath of Allegiance’, her sword would be wielded for Dale.

“This is our promise.”

An investment for the future. At those words, Charlotte remained silent.

But the silence did not last long.

“…I swear on a knight’s honor.”

Dale reached out his hand, and Charlotte extended hers in response. Even if it was nothing more than a promise between children.

Quietly solidifying their resolve, they clasped hands.

Charlotte, the Sword Maiden.

The hand of the girl who would follow in her father’s footsteps, becoming another of the continent’s greatest swords and reborn as the ‘Divine Sword’.

The hand of the knight who would later stand by the new ‘Duke of Saxony’ and become his most loyal sword.

After the duel, Dale returned with Charlotte to the hall of the duke’s castle. To tell his father of his resolve and persuade him.

By then, the matters concerning Charlotte’s mother, Dale’s father, and Lord Helmut had been roughly settled.

“Charlotte.”

Vanessa Orhart, the young widow of the Sacred Sword, spoke. As her mother, she had made the best decision she could for her daughter.

‘Miss Charlotte Orhart will be protected under the name of our House of Saxony.’

The Duke of Saxony nodded in agreement to her request. Now it was time to tell her daughter of this decision.

The foolish daughter will likely throw a tantrum, wailing that she can’t stay here.

But there was nothing to be done. Dressed entirely in black, Vanessa, her face veiled, began to speak to Charlotte.

Charlotte listened silently to her mother’s words.

“I understand, Mother.”

After listening, she quietly nodded.

“Charlotte…?”

The daughter she had believed would cry and throw a tantrum, vowing never to part from her mother.

The daughter she thought would stubbornly insist she didn’t need protection from some high-ranking noble of the empire.

“I… I’ll get stronger.”

She simply smiled and nodded, as if she understood everything.

What on earth had happened in that brief moment? Not to mention the Duke of Saxony and Baron Helmut, even Vanessa turned her head in surprise. Toward Dale, who was watching her resolve.

“Until my sword in the future can protect Mother and the Orhart family in place of Father.”

But Dale said nothing, merely silently observing Charlotte’s resolve.

“For I am the proud daughter of the Divine Sword.”

Vanessa could not hold back any longer. She embraced her daughter and began to sob.