In terms of variety, the weapons provided by the school far outnumber the personal ones, but when it comes to practical use, the difference isn’t as significant.

There are plenty of options.

“Ryoka-chan, what do you think of this? I’m considering it as a replacement for my main-gauche.”

Riona was asking Oujin.

She was holding an ordinary-looking dagger. However, it was an exceptional piece.

Oujin nodded at Riona.

“It’s more suitable for the dungeon curriculum than a main-gauche. That weapon is primarily for combat against humans. The enemies in rare dungeons aren’t human, so a knuckle guard would just be unnecessary weight.”

“I figured. My job isn’t assassination anymore, after all.”

“From what I’ve observed, Riona-san, your strength lies not in swordplay but in your precise and flawless thrusts that exploit an enemy’s openings. You’d be better off focusing on that rather than engaging in direct exchanges.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll do that. —Which means my main weapon should also…”

As expected of an honor student. That guy would make a great instructor. He’s already popular in club activities, unlike me, who relies on guts, determination, and merciless verbal abuse.

Now, Void approached Oujin. However, he tilted his head away as if avoiding Oujin’s gaze, his lips twisting before he spoke.

“...Uh… so, uh. Tell me your thoughts on that ogre’s massive iron sword from before.”

“Mine?”

“Who else?”

“In that case, I’d sum it up in one word: too heavy. If you’re up against giant, brutish dragon-like monsters, it might be useful. But your strength, Void, isn’t just raw power—it’s your ability to adapt the battlefield’s terrain to your advantage. You can pick whatever weapon you like, but sacrificing mobility isn’t ideal. If I were you, I’d choose a Bundi again. Does that answer your question?”

“O-oh. Yeah, that helps.”

He’s being relied on. Damn it, why? He could rely on me too, you know? My opinion was nearly the same.

I picked out a plain short sword and a wakizashi without hesitation. Oujin glanced at me but seemed to have nothing to say, returning his focus to his own selection.

The short sword was longer and heavier than a gladius. I thought he might say it was too soon for me to use it, but it seemed I had made the right choice.

With a sigh of relief, I realized something.

—Why the hell do I have to be so mindful of him…? I’m a Sword Saint, damn it…

Just as I was about to glare at him again, I noticed what was in front of Oujin—his gaze was fixed on a row of straight swords.

Oh, come on…

“Wait a second. Are you an idiot? What are you planning to choose?”

“Huh? Ah… I was wondering if I should just stick with this. As long as I continue practicing Karaburi Ittō-ryū, I feel like I’ll always be chasing after his back…”

So, he was struggling with this too. Even while giving advice to others.

By ‘him,’ he was, of course, referring to his biological father—the ‘Sword Demon.’ Oujin’s goal was to cut down the Sword Demon. I didn’t know the reason, but it wasn’t something I should ask.

“I came to this country—which has produced Sword Saints in the past and now created the War Maiden—to learn fighting styles outside of Karaburi Ittō-ryū. Maybe it’s time for me to change weapons.”

“Don’t be stupid. Don’t discard what you’ve built up so easily.”

Oujin furrowed his brows.

“Are you saying I should keep honing Karaburi Ittō-ryū? He has already perfected it. Even at best, I can only reach parity. No… given my inferior physique, victory is out of reach. Shouldn’t I step into the realm of the Sword Saint’s ‘Formlessness’ instead?”

“No! That’s not it at all!”

I shook my head.

“Idiot. ‘Formlessness’ isn’t a style. It’s the act of incorporating new strength into your current self. Listen, don’t throw anything away. Take in everything and stack it up. It doesn’t matter if it ends up misshapen—that will become your unpredictability, allowing you to exploit the enemy’s openings.”

His pitch-black gaze dropped to my waist.

At the sheath belt where I had strapped both the short sword and the wakizashi—a mismatched main and sub weapon.

“…You’re going to layer Karaburi Ittō-ryū over the Sword Saint’s ‘Formless’ swordsmanship?”

“That’s right. I will use Rock-Cutting. But I won’t make it my core. I’ll keep it as just one of many tools. Each of those tools will become my trump cards. That is the essence of ‘Formlessness.’”

I grinned.

“Hone it. Your Karaburi Ittō-ryū. And absorb everything else with ‘Formlessness.’ Beasts don’t pick and choose their methods.”

Oujin closed his eyes in silent contemplation for a while, then let out a slow breath, his lips relaxing.

“You’re right. I’ll do just that. Thank you, Eremia. I’ve been agonizing over this for so long… wondering if I’d ever catch up to my father by continuing like this. When I finally face him, ‘Formlessness’ and beastlike swordsmanship, where I choose no means, may be my ultimate trump card.”

“That’s right.”

I nodded in satisfaction.

This is the proper relationship between master and disciple. I am not some inexperienced student—I am a Sword Saint. Of course, I’m the better teacher. Of course, I’m superior. Yes.

As I smugly reveled in this thought, I noticed Riona and Juanere, who had been eavesdropping from a distance, trembling uncontrollably for some reason.

“What?”

Hah, they must be so moved they’re on the verge of tears. Women can be so dramatic.

Juanere smacked Riona’s shoulder repeatedly.

“Pff—kuh, ahaha! That tiny master of yours—he was dressed like that!? Pajamas with a nightcap? I wish I had seen it! Ahaha, oh god!”

“Right, right? El-tan looks adorable even in sleepwear! Like a little fairy-tale gnome! And then, the way he lectures so grandly—it’s just irresistible!”

“Oh, I totally get that!”

Remembering my own appearance, my face ignited in embarrassment for the first time in a long while.

Just as Lili had warned me before I stepped out, I should have changed properly.

I quietly covered my face with both hands.