11 – 11. Lessons

Isaac was lost in thought.

‘Was I asking for too much?’

He knew it himself.

Comparing the current Silvarna with the one from years hence was a discourtesy.

But.

Even so, Isaac could declare it unequivocally.

‘She can’t even follow in her footsteps.’

At the very least, he had hoped for a glimmer of that earlier power.

He thought he could surely grasp her potential for growth, her expected worth.

‘If it wasn’t Silvarna, I would’ve thought she was a completely different person.’

Just looking at the spear alone, you could never, ever connect the two.

The disparity was that vast.

Right then, it was time to rethink things a little.

‘Why?’

Why was the difference so vast?

The question couldn’t linger long.

Silberna was already standing before him.

“What did you say?”

Her eyes held a clear animosity, a strange sense of betrayal.

Isaac, who had acknowledged Caldias’s spear, spoke that way after seeing hers, it seemed to have doubled her rage.

“……”

“Ah, uh—no, that’s not it…”

Jonathan tried to make excuses from the side, but it didn’t seem easy.

“Sir Isaac, he, he has a mental ailment, so he sometimes talks nonsense-”

“……”

Jonathan was spewing excuses, trying his best.

But Silberna didn’t even pretend to listen, just glaring at Isaac.

Isaac pondered.

How should he put it?

In the old days, he would usually bow his head and apologize at times like this.

In arguments with fellow disciples or colleagues of the same Grandmaster, it was always Isaac who ended up bowing his head.

Because, in the end, he wasn’t a swordsman.

They praised him for his Silent Sword, but there was bound to be a gap with actual combat.

“Do you have no mouth?”

Silberna glared.

Even the instructors around them became wary, as the harsh wind sounds hurried to fill the silence.

Having made up his mind, Isaac answered.

“Your spear is, more underwhelming than I expected.”

“……!”

“Ah, Sir Isaac!”

Isaac declared it outright, facing Silberna head-on.

He gestured to Jonathan to keep quiet, then asked Silberna, whose eyes had widened.

“It was off from the start. The way you held the shaft, even. Grab it there, and all your strength can’t get through.”

“What?”

Silberna, baffled, as if he’d sprouted a second head.

But Isaac was already acting, no hesitation.

He’d grabbed her hand, the one clutching the spear.

“Wh-what are you doing!?”

Silberna’s shoulders snapped back, startled, but Isaac just kept going.

“Look here. See how the shaft’s worn? Means you’ve been grabbing it here, basically, since you started sparring.”

“So what! I’ve trained with this stance since I was small. It was my father who taught it to me in the first place.”

Silberna scoffed, like he was picking at the stitches of a worn-out argument.

“You’ve gotten older though. Your body’s grown too. So naturally, the width of your grip needs to widen, your stride needs to lengthen.”

“Uh…?”

“It’s good that you follow the Lord’s teachings. It shows you tried so hard to learn them that you’ve been forcing your body into a stance that no longer fits. But you need to change.”

Isaac corrected her grip, crouching her down and stretching her steps to a better distance.

Silberna was obeying him now, like a doll.

Isaac was focused, like he was about to start writing something.

“You there, come here too.”

“…Me?”

Isaac was calling to Meladic Drakemore, who had just fought Silberna.

The attention pushed her forward, and she looked around.

“Try again.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

Frustration bubbled in Isaac at their questioning, and he sighed, “Do it like you did before, I mean.”

“Ah, um.”

Meladic, brow furrowed, slowly got into position, but Silberna’s face scrunched, demanding, “I thought we were talking about the insult? Why is this about a sparring replay all of a sudden?”

“Just do as I said. If you still don’t understand what I’m saying after, then I’ll take back my words and apologize.”

“……”

“Begin. Try it again.”

And so, unintentionally, the three of them began a review of their sparring match.

* * *

Lunchtime.

The dispatched nobles, having finished their training, were heading towards the dining hall.

A loud bellow erupted from a corner of the training grounds.

“Meladic! How many times have I told you! There are times when you need to release the tension in your sword hand!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Isaac, holding a stick the size of a cane, which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, was lecturing Meladic.

Silberna, standing opposite them, was genuinely amazed.

‘How is he doing that?’

To put it coldly.

Isaac looked weak.

To put it bluntly.

Pathetic.

Silberna could, in a fight, dominate him within a single exchange.

But when you listened to Isaac speak, he sounded like someone surprisingly well-versed in combat and martial arts.

‘If he were a charlatan…’

He was far too capable.

“Drakemoore swordsmanship is all about lightness and footwork. But because there’s too much tension in the hand holding your sword, your movements are stiff overall, see? That’s why you couldn’t evade Silberna’s third strike and ended up just taking it and losing.”

“Yes, sir!”

Completely consumed, Meladic moved quickly, swinging her sword.

‘He’s not just knowledgeable about Caldius’s spear techniques. He’s also extremely adept at Drakemoore swordsmanship. Just how?’

It wasn’t just a superficial understanding.

It was like…

Someone who had researched and pondered it for a very long time.

The words that poured from Isaac were laced with the marks of deep contemplation of the respective martial arts.

‘Fascinating.’

The spear in her hand felt unusually awkward today.

They had only trained together for a few hours.

A feeling like new horizons were opening.

The coexisting unease and heart-thumping excitement bewildered Silverna.

“Now you’re getting somewhere. Practice like that. If you loosen up and look with a wider view, your understanding of Drakemore’s swordsmanship will deepen a bit more too.”

“Th, th, thank you.”

Meladic, panting, bowed and promptly bolted for the dining hall.

Isaac, wearing a satisfied smile, watched him go before his eyes landed on Silverna and his expression shifted to surprise.

“Ah, sorry. I tend to forget my surroundings when I’m focused.”

Isaac apologized sheepishly.

He’d started by watching Silverna’s spear work but had ended up teaching Meladic as well; he looked a bit foolish, and she almost laughed.

“Ahem, so, what was it?”

He demands the answer to the question he’d asked before they’d started.

“Was my remark truly received as… a simple insult?”

“Ha.”

She could only let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it.

Even though she wanted to be prideful, Silverna was surprised at her own unexpected sense of resignation and honest admission.

“Alright, I admit it. I understand why you said what you did about my spear.”

“…Understand?”

“Isaac, you’re right. I honestly learned so much in that short moment. And honestly, listening to you… I felt the depth of your understanding of spearplay was different.”

Silverna gave a wry smile.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it? That I, who’s spent my whole life learning the spear of Caldias, would have a weaker grasp of the concepts of spearplay than a Helmund in-law?”

“….”

“But accepting that is another story.”

She began to express her true feelings, somber but honest.

“If I follow your way, I’ll undoubtedly grow. But would that truly be the spear of Caldias?”

“….”

“Isaac, you said it yourself, didn’t you? Our spear technique is magnificent. I want to continue that legacy.”

Magnificent, and therefore deserving of pride.

And thus, she did not want to lose her identity.

“This spear has been with me my whole life. I feel like I see something new through your teaching, but if I accept it, it feels like my spear would be too different.”

“….”

“I have a duty… to safeguard this spear, raised by our ancestors.”

Hearing Sylverna’s confession, Isaac felt the puzzle pieces finally click into place.

‘So that’s it.’

The difference between the Sylverna he remembered, and the Sylverna before him now.

It was a fundamental difference in the pursuit of strength.

‘The Sylverna I knew… she had already lost everything.’

The Malidian Barrier was broken, the Caldias family was destroyed, and she was left alone.

Family, comrades, homeland.

She’d lost everything, and nothing remained for her outside her spear.

But it was different now.

She had yet to lose something precious, and so her hunger for power was somewhat lacking.

“How foolish you are, Sylverna Caldias.”

What came from Isaac’s mouth was a rebuke aimed directly at her.

“…What?”

“Anyone else could have done it. If anyone else at the Malidian Barrier had said that to me, I would have accepted it.”

But.

“Not you. You cannot.”

“What do you know?! The Spear of Caldias is my pride, my heart! How dare you tell me to change it—!”

*Thwack!*

The wooden staff Isaac was holding slammed harshly against the floor.

“Your name—.”

Like a stern teacher.

The burning emotion in his dark eyes seemed almost like anger.

“What is your name?”

“What the hell—!”

“What is your name?!”

At Isaac’s sharp cry, Sylverna paused, then finally spoke.

“Sylverna… Caldias.”

“Yes, Caldias! Protecting the spear of your ancestors? Unable to cast aside your great pride? Do you even know what you’re saying?!”

Isaac’s staff was pointed directly at her.

“You’re saying you’ll cull it! That the path of Caldia’s spear ends right here, and you’re drawing the line yourself!”

Past life.

Isaac, as a silent sword, had taught countless souls.

Among them, the kind Isaac despised most were those who defined their own limits.

Even Isaac, with a crippled leg unable to wield a sword, never surrendered, always striving to move forward.

Yet these others, calling it their limit, stopped, their steps frozen.

“Look at your spear! It’s the great legacy piled up by our ancestors! Are you going to just hold it? Keep it safe because it’s precious?”

Isaac, teeth clenched, cried out, as if begging.

Silberna, he pleaded, please don’t become one of them.

In his past life, only after a cruel tragedy did the frozen mind, hardened by the northern cold, crack, and understanding dawn.

This time…

‘I’ll make you realize.’

Before tragedy strikes.

“To settle and hesitate, for a warrior, it should only happen when death comes.”

As if bewitched, Silberna met Isaac’s gaze.

His scathing words melted her hardened heart and mind.

‘Ah.’

A path, just barely, appeared within Silberna.

The path’s name was ‘Caldias’.

It was also the path she had walked.

Rough and unrefined, but…

This was, indeed, a path.

One that someone had paved beforehand.

“I ask again, who are you?”

Now, Silberna faced forward.

There, the northern snow lay thick and heavy.

Where there was no path.

The place she thought should be avoided.

“I am, Silberna…Caldias.”

Later.

For the future descendants who will pass this place.

The path ahead, one she would forge herself.

“Moving forward isn’t abandoning, it’s ‘continuing’,”

Isaac, catching the understanding, smiles softly.

“The place you stand now, that is someone’s end point.”

So.

From there, it can begin.

Before she knew it.

A bright smile bloomed on Silverna’s lips.

Not simply living in gratitude for the greatness of her ancestors.

But that she, too, as one of their own, was now walking the same path.

“Heh, hahahaha!”

It was an immense honor as a warrior,

And a heart-swelling expectation surged within her.

Slowly.

Silverna deeply bowed her head.

She brought her hands together respectfully, voicing the sincerity within.

“Gratitude.”

To the benefactor who had given her understanding.

“Infinite, gratitude.”

When she looked at Isaac again, the smile on his lips reassured her.

The way he rejoiced in her finding the answer, rather, invigorated Silverna more, making her step forward with eagerness.

“Is it possible to receive more teachings? Not just simple lessons, but to seek ways to further develop the Spear of Caldius.”

“If I can be of help, certainly. But first, shouldn’t we eat lunch?”

Shrugging, he points towards the dining hall, and Silverna nods with a flourish.

“Then let’s talk more while we eat. Oh, by the way, is there a direction for me to train that would be beneficial?”

“It’s not good to blindly follow my words.”

“Advice! I want to hear your advice!”

Advice, she said.

Isaac hesitated for a moment.

There was indeed advice I wanted to give.

It was, in fact, something Sylverna had suffered greatly with in my past life.

“…Really, I can say just anything?”

“Huh? Of course!”

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Hmm? I even let that insult to my spear slide. What more could make me angry?”

At Sylverna’s pleading, eyes shining bright, urging me to speak quickly.

Isaac, looking embarrassed, scratched his cheek and said,

“That chest binder thing, you should take it off.”

“…Huh?”

Sylverna froze momentarily at the utterly unexpected advice.

Then, without realizing it, her hand moved towards her chest before stopping short.

“T, that, is it obvious?”

Sylverna, who had been hiding her somewhat more voluptuous build compared to the women around her.

Her eyes lost focus and trembled, she tried to give a reason.

“If, if I don’t wear this, it’s hard to swing my spear. It’s too… jiggling.”

“That’s what you have to get used to.”

“…Why?”

This is really driving me crazy.

Isaac massaged his forehead and muttered in a small voice.

“There might come a time when you can’t use the binder.”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to-“

Sylverna’s face flushed crimson.

Was he implying, from here on… further?

“How, how could *you* know that kind of thing!”

She shouted in a fluster, but Isaac, looking burdened, sighed and mumbled.

“I know. Anyway… I know.”