Life is dull, like a bird in a cage.

During such times, my eldest brother, Leonel, who seemed to resent me for monopolizing our mother's affection, shared an amusing idea.

“You, if you’re so eager to swing a sword around, why not hide your status and enroll in the full-boarding knight school, Knights Academia? We’ll finally be free of your pathetic face, and you can swing swords to your barbarian heart’s content.”

“A full-boarding knight school? Does such a place exist?”

“You didn’t know? Father opened it this year in Lehan. At a knight school, swordsmanship is a key curriculum, so you’ll be able to swing away as much as you like. Well, not that someone who can’t even cut meat on a plate could ever handle a sword, though.”

So Kilpus established a knight school, huh?

I placed my hand on my chin, considering the idea.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

It’s very nice. No more need to keep up this pretense.

For the first time, my snide older brother proved useful.

“Hmm? What is?”

Education for royalty is mostly conducted within the palace. Experts in various fields reside at the royal residence, the Palace of Parlas, or are hired externally. It’s rare for royalty to venture outside the palace except for official duties, as it’s considered dangerous.

That’s why, in history, dukes or higher-ranking royals have never attended knight schools or mage schools like Magia Academia. Even if they had, they probably concealed their identity, as revealing it would be tantamount to inviting assassins.

“That’s what I’ll do. Thank you, Brother Leonel.”

“Huh? Are you serious?”

“Yes. This way, I won’t have to see your and our other brother’s foolish faces anymore.”

“...Huh? Wait… What? What…?”

Leaving my bewildered brother behind, I began persuading my mother that very day.

Lehan Knight School is an integrated institution with elementary, middle, and high school divisions. Once enrolled, I wouldn’t return to the palace for nearly a decade, aside from occasional visits home.

Naturally, my mother opposed the idea. But surprisingly, Kilpus supported me, perhaps having grown weary of my brothers’ immature behavior.

One evening, he called me to his chamber and said:

“Don’t become like Leonel and Arland. Hiding your identity will be tough, but you’ll learn much from the outside world and hone yourself. Study well beyond the palace.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Become a man like the Sword Saint Blythe, who saved this country despite being mocked for his swordsmanship.”

I already am, Kilpus.

It’s me, Blythe. Did you forget the bonds of friendship that transcended social status? Then again, with this appearance, it’s understandable if you don’t recognize me.

“He shattered the outdated forms clinging to swordsmanship. While the nobles never understood him, I believe he single-handedly advanced centuries of swordsmanship history. That’s why this country was saved.”

Please, stop. Any more praise, and I’ll combust with embarrassment. It’s almost preferable to the days when they laughed at me—it was far less mortifying.

“I want you, and indeed every citizen of this country, to live in such a way. Not just in swordsmanship. That will make the nation stronger. That’s why I’ll erect a hero’s monument to Blythe.”

Please, spare me. Stop multiplying those statues of me, Blythe, across the kingdom.

Especially the ones where the craftsmen have made me ridiculously handsome or de-aged me. Passing by them, even inside a carriage, fills me with secondhand shame. I can’t even bring myself to admit I’m Blythe anymore. Not that anyone would believe me—they’d just assign a court physician to examine my head.

Unbothered by my thoughts, Kilpus continued:

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to your mother about this.”

“Ah, thank you, Father.”

“I’m expecting great things.”

Though strict, Kilpus was a good father.

From start to finish, always.

The failure in raising my brothers was likely due to the closed environment of the palace. No wonder they turned out warped—besides Father and Mother, there was no one to challenge them.

And so, when spring arrived in the royal capital of Galliant, I departed for the royal knight school in the newly established academy city of Leon, three days north by carriage, to take the entrance exam.

“Farewell, Father, Mother.”

My mother, wiping her tears with a handkerchief, looked up at me from the ground as I boarded the carriage.

“My little Eremie. Oh, I know! We should assign you a guard.”

“No, revealing my royal status must be avoided. A guard would only broadcast it to everyone.”

Revealing my status would increase the danger. Kilpus had strongly advised me to claim to be from a baronial house instead.

And there’s no way I’d allow a chaperone. I’m leaving for freedom.

“Well, if that’s the case, promise me you’ll return the moment things get hard, okay? Oh, I know! I’ll tell the guards to keep the royal capital and palace gates open for you at all times!”

Of course not. How overprotective can you be?

I held back the urge to retort, forcing a smile instead. This would be my final act of feigned innocence.

“Mother, I’ll be fine. If you keep the gates open, monsters might enter the capital, and thieves might break into the palace. Please keep them properly closed for everyone’s safety.”

“Wh-what? You want me to shut you out like that?! Oh, oh… woe is me…”

Ugh, what a hassle. Do something about her, Kilpus…

My weeping mother cried so much it even startled me.

Meanwhile, behind her, my father averted his face, stifling his laughter.

Hey… seriously…