You bastard.

I reluctantly raised my empty hands into a stance. But honestly, even though my opponent was Lawrence, I had no confidence I could win. Think about it. Could a grown man be taken down by a full-strength punch from a ten-year-old? Not likely.

Lawrence raised his longsword in a middle guard and opened his mouth.

“Don’t worry. My sword’s for the elementary division. The blade’s dulled. It won’t cut that well. —Though it can still cut a little, and maybe break a bone or two!!”

Lawrence lunged forward in large strides.

I quickly retreated, and the blade whooshed vertically past the tip of my nose.

“Don’t dodge, coward! Fight me fair and square, like a man!”
“You’ve got some nerve saying that. I don’t even have a sword—just my bare hands. And you call yourself a true knight? What happened to your vaunted chivalry, huh?”

Still, I had to admit—

It was fortunate this guy was a talentless, slow-witted true knight. Unlike his personality, his sword swings were straightforward. Not too hard to dodge.

Just now, I’d spotted a habit—or rather, an opening. His swings were wide, and the recovery after each swing was absurdly slow. If I stepped in as I dodged, I could probably land a hit… though with these scrawny arms, who knows if it would do anything.

Lawrence twisted his expression into a sneer.

“Oh? You want me to go easy on you just because you don’t have a sword? Foolish. Truly foolish. Once you graduate from this school and become a knight, you’ll eventually go to war. You clearly have no idea what war is.”

No, I absolutely know more than you. If only I could say, “Do you know how many years I’ve survived on the frontlines? It’s not just ten years or so.” But in this cute ten-year-old body, all I could do was grind my teeth.

Ignoring me, Lawrence continued.

“As your instructor, I’ll teach you what war truly is—what I’ve seen with my own eyes.”
“No thanks.”
“Now, now, don’t get sassy with your instructor—bastard!!”

Lawrence charged in again.

This time it was a horizontal slash. He swung upward from a low angle. I leaned to the side to dodge and drove my fist into his wide-open torso.

“Hraaagh!”

There was a dull thud, but I was the one who winced. My wrist hurt.

“You don’t want to fight because you don’t have a sword? Ha! Don’t make me laugh! —Neu, could you say the same thing on a hellish battlefield, facing charging enemies!?”
“Guh…”

Damn it…! As annoying as it is, he’s right…! I can’t argue back…!

“Then die knowing that!”

He swung his blade again, but I dodged with a swaying motion, recalling how Oujin practiced his forms alone.

He’d said something about the movements of a willow tree in the wind, though I’d never seen such a tree. Still, facing Oujin in person, I realized that his staggering footwork looked like that of a drunken man at dawn, yet his steps were as elusive as a ghost.

See? Lawrence’s face was turning red already. I’d successfully riled him up.

“What the hell are you!?”

As if retching from a hangover, he swung his sword straight across. I crouched low to let it pass over me.

“That wobbling movement of yours!”

He swung again as if stumbling, and I leaned back to create distance.

“Are you mocking meeeee!?”

The final strike of his three-hit combo.

As he lunged in to close the distance, I stepped forward too. Just as our feet crossed, his blade sliced through the air behind me. I grabbed the scabbard belt at his waist with both hands and yanked with all my strength.

Had I managed to pull one of the scabbards out, I could’ve beaten him down easily—but instead, he kicked me hard in the stomach and sent me flying backward.

“Guh…”

I rolled across the ground and came up on one knee.

In the same instant, Lawrence dragged the tip of his longsword along the ground and raised it toward my neck.

I rolled away in a panic, knelt again, and then leapt backward to avoid the follow-up strike.

I hadn’t been able to pull the scabbard out. This body didn’t even have the muscle strength for that. I cursed these small, adorable little hands.

Lawrence must’ve realized my intent too. He kept the sword’s tip trained on me with one hand while hurriedly tightening the scabbard belt with the other.

“You—you were trying to pull down my pants and run away, weren’t you!? You conniving little brat!”
“……”

Scratch what I said earlier—he’s dumber than I thought. How did someone like this become an instructor? Probably some backdoor job through Count Givley’s connections.

That said, as he pointed out, I could easily run away if I wanted. His sword swings weren’t hard to dodge. But I couldn’t possibly scream for help like some pathetic coward. I was once a Sword Saint, and I would be one again.

Exactly. No more pretending to be a polite swordsman. Just like the old days.

Lawrence charged in. I turned my back and leapt onto a flower bed to flee. A blade came down at me from behind.

“Dieeeee!”

I rolled into the flower bed, came up on one knee, and threw a handful of dirt at Lawrence’s face as he chased me down, trampling the flowers.

“—Gah!”

Lawrence reeled back hard.

“A dirt toss? How cowardly!”
“Would you say the same thing on the battlefield? Hmm~? Would you really~?”
“Kh…!”

Got him. Take that, sucker.

Blinded, Lawrence clutched his face with his left hand while flailing his longsword wildly with his right—front, back, left, right, even up and down, likely taking my small size into account.

“Where are you!? Don’t think you’ll get away with this!”

I crept around and hid behind the same tree he had used for ambush earlier when we arrived at the flower garden.

After swinging his sword wildly and yelling for a while, Lawrence managed to barely crack one eye open. He scanned the surroundings and clicked his tongue.

“…Ran off, huh. Annoying little brat.”

The moment he sheathed his longsword, I sprinted from shadow to shadow, slipped around behind him through his left side—

“Wha—You!?”

—and as I passed by, I grabbed the hilt of the sword he had just sheathed and drew it in one fluid motion.

I stole it. His sword.

I turned around slowly. I gripped the sword in both hands and grinned menacingly.

Lawrence’s face went pale in an instant.

“Th-That’s my sword! Give it back right now!”
“Sure. I’ll give it back. Make sure you catch it properly.”

By that point, I’d already pulled the sword behind my back, stepped deep—deep—into his space.

The longsword was heavy. In real combat, I still couldn’t wield it properly. But if I only needed to make one strike count, I could put all my strength into it.

“N-No—”
“GUROORAAAAA!!”

SWIIIIING—SLASH!!

With a massive, thunderous sound, my blade sank deep into his chest. Lawrence’s feet lifted off the ground. Liquid spewed from his mouth as his adult body floated briefly in the air.

“Guhha…!?”

I, too, lost my balance from the force of the strike and collapsed onto the ground. But Lawrence was far worse off.

Still spewing who-knows-what from his mouth, he crashed down on his back.

“Ugh… guh…”
“Phew…”

The sensation of striking something hard remained vividly in my arms. Undoubtedly, ribs.

I sat down and tossed aside the longsword. Then, right next to the fallen Lawrence, I sat cross-legged like a boss.