Chapter 167: Vol 3.5 Chapter 3: Fiora’s Tale – The Sword Goddess, Esther Solis

ForestDweller

Thank you once again to FailerQt for editing this.

We moved on to the next and final bridge, Caelesti, the one we had to cross to reach the final shrine, The Shrine of The Lyre. After running and climbing some more, through ever increasingly more difficult terrain, we finally made it to the gate. However, unlike the one from before, it wasn't unguarded, for there was a figure sitting cross-legged in front of the gate. He was a dark-haired middle-aged man, wearing a leather armor with a sword on his hip and a buckler tied to his wrist.

“He’s the Champion-rank guard, isn’t he? Shouldn’t there be two of them though?”

“Hmm, like you saw at the previous gate yourself, sometimes, the people who are supposed to be there aren't there. It can’t be helped. Guarding the gate is such a tedious job after all. Quite frankly, it is done solely out of tradition as there hasn’t been a serious intruder in a long while” She shrugged.

“Well..  I guess it was my job to test the sentries right?” I asked back with a smirk.

“Hehe.” She giggled as she covered her mouth in one hand. “I have to admit, it’s really rare to see someone as bold as you, climbing up all the way here on your own. Most people who want to join the Order would wait for the entrance exam back at Orthard.”

Orthard was the small village all the way back on the bottom of the mountain. It’s also where the first shrine is located, where all the beginners have their training. Naturally, I refused to go there. I refuse to waste my time on it, even though it’s the proper way to enter the Order.

“My maid decided she wanted to stay there though.”

“Your maid?" She raised her eyebrows. "Ah, of course! A royal princess would have a maid or two!" She clapped her hands with a smile.

"Just one. The rest… didn't make it. If only I was stronger back then, I could've defended them better."

Thanks to my out-of-nowhere somber speech, the atmosphere turned noticeably heavier. Her smiling face disappeared as well.

"What happened?" she asked with a concerned look.

"Oh you know, the usual royal family fued, assassins sent by my older siblings. They wish to prevent me from becoming a serious contender for the throne."

I walked forward, leaving her behind. I wasn’t pleased with the direction our conversation had gone. No one liked to be reminded of their failure.

She quickly caught up, and out of politeness, she refrained from saying anything else. Probably because of the bitter look I most likely have right now.

When we got close enough, we were greeted by a horizontal swing of the man’s blade. He cut the grass in front of him in a half-moon fashion, leaving a bald, half-circle patch with quite the significant size.

“Ehh? Whoze there?”

“You’re quite bold, Carn, swinging your blade towards a Virtuoso like that. I would’ve excused you from sleeping on the job, but now, I might just take it up to Lady Solis."

"W-wait, please don't!"

The man immediately prostrated himself. Hmph, just looking at this made me lose respect for him.

The swordmaster then covered her mouth with her sleeves as she giggled.

"Alright, stand up, you lazy bum. Fiora, this is Carn, a Champion-rank swordsman of the Gazelle. Carn, this is Fiora, a candidate for a new Champion-rank swordswoman. For my own school, of course," she added with a smug little smirk.

He stood up and froze the moment he laid his eyes on me.

"This little girl? A Champion-rank swordsman? You gotta be kidding me!"

"Oh? Do I just hear you saying you want to spar with her?"

"N-no, not at all!" He waved his hands around. "M-my head! I-it's killing me!" He put his right hand on his forehead while grunting.

Frida and I exchanged looks. Yep. He's faking it.

"Alright." Frida narrowed her eyes, a look of disgust on her face. "We're going to see Lady Solis now. You stay here and be a good little guard. This is part of your punishment, remember?"

He moved to the side with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head.

"Punishment?" I asked after we'd walked past him.

A scowl formed on the lips of the swordswoman. "He was caught sneaking into a villager's house some months ago. He had forced himself on the young daughter that lived there. He was lucky he's a Champion-rank swordsman in the Order, or else we would've banished him from the Order. That man is an irredeemable pervert and a coward!"

Hmm, is it just me or is there something peculiar about her expression now?

She reached into her pocket and opened the gate once more with her key. As it croaked open, however, I managed to catch a little whisper.

"I can't believe he's the only man that has ever proposed to me… Out of everyone… Why must it be just him?"

A grin formed on my face. I know what's going on here. A middle-aged career woman can't get a husband and secretly worries about it every day. And the only guy who ever proposed to her is so hilariously pathetic that she refused to even consider it.

Hah, I'm glad I already have him as a suitable candidate. I refuse to reach her age and stay a virgin, that is for damned sure. Hmph, even if I have to negotiate terms with the flies that will surround him.

-------

We continued our ascend to the last shrine after crossing a bridge more turbulent than the last one. At this height, the air was noticeably thin. I could feel my breath getting shorter and shorter, with not enough air entering my lungs.

"Hmm, you're slowing down." Frida spoke with a giggle as I chased after her. "It's hard to breathe, isn't it? That's another technique you will need polish on."

As much as I hated it, I had to admit that she was right. I could feel my lungs trying to kill me and I had to slow down just to stay conscious. And eventually, I had to stop entirely, panting furiously like a dog during the height of summer.

"Alright, we'll take it easy from now on." She smiled, sitting on a nearby tree stump, crossing her legs as she waited for me to recover.

And so, for the rest of the trip, we walked instead.

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Eventually, some hours later, after climbing sheer slopes and jumping over multiple cliffs, we reached the mountain summit.

And there, at a small grassy clearing with a spring behind it, stood the final shrine, the Shrine of The Lyre. It was where Esther Solis, the Blind Sword Goddess herself resided.

And yet, it was the smallest of the shrines. It practically was just a one-story house, with the same architecture as the other shrines. Apparently the style originated from a far-off miniscule kingdom where the founder of the order came from. That kingdom was no more, and all these shrines were made as a remembrance to it.

It didn’t take us long to find the Sword Goddess, for she was sitting right there on the terrace, having tea with herself as she sat facing the bonsai trees in the garden. I couldn’t say the word “gaze” for her, obviously enough.

And then, when I had a good look on her, I paused.

My breath—it was taken away from me.

The word "beautiful" doesn’t do her justice. She was ethereal, almost like a fairy, with her long and flowing silver hair tied up in a bun behind her head. It was hard for me to decide on her age, for she simultaneously looked as young as myself and as old as Frida. On her back, she has her sheathed sword—the pommel adorned with a scale—which certainly is an odd choice for a decoration. Her pale white hands were holding a cup made out of clay—her lips sipping it elegantly. She broke the silence as she put the cup down with a grace that would shame even the most lofty of noblewomen. 

“Frida, who is the young girl with you?”

Young girl? How in the world could she know that?

“It’s a long story, Milady.” She knelt as she gave her response. “She’s—”

“I would explain it myself, if you don’t mind,” I interrupted her. I walked forward, kneeling down as well. I then told her everything, leaving barely any detail out. I had a hunch that I wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her. Perhaps her senses were so sharp that she could tell when you’re lying just by the irregularities in your heartbeat, even when you knelt twenty steps away from her.

When I finished, she remained silent for a long while, taking another sip at her tea cup as an uncomfortable curtain of silence fell between us.

"...Young one." I shivered, for her voice was akin to the chill of a snowy morning. "You should've gone to the Lancelot Order instead. We at the order of Galahad do not believe in gaining power just for the sake of more power," she replied with a smile. "Or do you believe you are fighting for justice itself?"

"I am under no impression that I am some legendary hero like my ancestor," I answered, looking her straight in her dull, lifeless eyes. "I'm simply here to gain power to exercise my will—to obtain the dream I had ever since I was little."

"Your dream? For power?"

"For reform. The Empire needs to change. And I'm willing to—"

"...If you shan't speak the truth, then you have no place here, little one."

I chuckled silently. She saw right through me, didn't she?

I stood up, putting on a brave smile and folded my arms together under my chest.

"You want me to tell you my secret, my true reason for wanting the throne and to transform the Empire. Just so you know, I am only willing to share it to a friend—someone I can trust. And you… are not someone I trust. You might be the Sword Goddess or whatever, but that doesn't give you the right to pry into my past."

Frida immediately stood up as well, probably to chide me for my insolence, but the Goddess told her to stand down. Her smile remained unabated, and I had a feeling it was the same smile she would use when talking to an ignorant child, which probably explained why I felt a bit irked right now.

“Then, I have a different proposal. Fight me, child, and if you can make my feet move from where I am sitting right now, even by just a hair, I shall accept you as a disciple of Galahad. And don’t worry, I won’t attack back, so feel free to attack me with all your might.”

I sighed. Somehow, I already expected something like this to happen. It’s a common thing you’d find in those stories involving swordsmen and the like. The master would challenge the cocky pupil, and the pupil would heartily accept, believing it to be a doable task, only to find herself being completely humiliated by the sheer difference in strength.

And now, I am that pupil. But I was under no illusion that making one of the strongest swordswoman in the world move would be a possibility, especially for someone like me, who’s still leagues behind her in skill.

But, it wasn’t like I had any other choice. I had to go all out with my strength. Even if I failed, hopefully, she would acknowledge me for it.

I drew my sword and gave a bow. As expected, she didn't bow in kind. She still sat there on the wooden terrace, sipping her tea without even bothering to draw her own sword.

I charged forward, opting to use Staccato Storm as the opening move. Without holding back, fully intent to harm or even kill her, I rained down slashes and thrusts at the speed of sound.

Only for her to block every single attack. Not by taking out her sword from its sheath, oh no. but by simply moving her back around.

“What’s the matter? Your movements are all so terribly predictable, even a blind woman like me can see them coming.”

I saw it—the small smirk drawn on her lips. She is taunting me.

I resumed my assault, not letting my hurt pride get in the way of my sword skills. Anger in battle only leads to mistakes, and I could afford none if I were to triumph against a swordswoman of her caliber. I didn’t even notice Frida watching from a distance, all with an amused smile of her own.

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Esther

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This child… she’s a tenacious one, isn't she?

It’s been hours since we began our little play, and yet she still keeps going on it with all her strength. Surely by now she has realized it to be an impossible task, right? Or is she simply too stubborn and foolish to accept it?

She is now drenched in her own sweat to the point that it steamed off her heated skin. Her breath is as ragged as an old woman affected by lung rot. And yet, she still refuses to give up.

Is her dream of reform really that important to her?

And yet… Her blade…  it’s terribly lonely… It’s a blade that does not belong to someone who desires power above all else. It seems my assumption is correct. She's hiding her true intention beneath the mask she has put on herself.

...I suppose I will have to be the one to make the first move.

The moment the young princess lunged forward for another round of her clumsy, slow attack, I countered, parrying the sword off her hand before hitting her stomach with my still sheathed sword.

Her shocked expression said it all. She didn’t actually expect me to break my promise. And she was right. By doing this, I have forfeited the match.

The blow knocked her unconscious but I managed to catch her body before it could hit the floor.

“Frida, leave us. She will be staying here for the night."

"O-of course, Milady." She bowed. Always a polite one.

“And send a servant with a change of clothes. I assume you want her to be wearing the same uniform as your other pupils. I’ll send her your way the next morning.”

“Right!” She bowed again. “Would that be all, Milady?”

“Yes. You may leave.”

With another bow, one too much in my opinion, she made her leave. To an untrained eye, she would have disappeared, as she had used her well-polished step skill to move faster than even sound could. But I could still tell the direction that she ran off to.

"Now…" I looked back at the girl whose arm I was holding, a smile forming on my face. "Let's revive you with a good, nice bath, shall we?"

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Fiora

….U-urghhh.

What is… this warmth…

I opened my eyes to a bewildering sight.

What in the— this is… a hot spring? W-why am I here? And why am I naked?

Out of an instinct any decent girl should have, I covered my chest with my arms.

"Oh, you don't need that. I'm blind after all."

I yelped. I didn't even notice the lady standing across me on the other side of the spring. It was her, the Blind Sword Goddess, in all her naked glory. If I were my brother and sister, who were all too fond of women, I would’ve assaulted her. Her ethereal presence only grew as she stood there with her breasts and nipples shyly covered by her long silver hair.

"...Right. You knocked me out. That was unfair, you know. You told me that you wouldn’t attack. Though it’s my own naivety for trusting you in the first place." After all, there is no such thing as fairness on the battlefield.

"Yes, you’re right,” she replied with a smile. “I knocked you out and carried you here. Since you were so dirty, I thought it would be a good thing for you to take a bath here."

"Dirty? How rude," I huffed. "Sweating is normal when a swordswoman exerts herself."

“To exert yourself against an opponent simply means you haven’t been training enough.” She continued her smile. “I haven’t broken a sweat in a long time. And the little exercise you gave me certainly wasn’t enough to make me do so.”

“Aah, yes, rub it in. The strongest swordswoman in the world bullying a little girl who can barely wield a sword.”

“The strongest? Hmm, I’m not so sure of that.” She tilted her head, touching her left chin with her index finger. “There’s Ciaran Hrothgar, the Sword Demon.”

“Ah, the leader of the Lancelot Order. You believe he’s stronger than you?” I smirked.

“Hmm, that’s a hard thing to say.” Her smile returned. “We haven’t sparred in ages.”

“Fine. Second strongest it is. Still a long gap, no?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m the second strongest either,” she quickly refuted my suggestion. “There are a lot of blademasters out there that are really strong, especially at the Demon Continent. Have you heard of the personage called the Demon of A Thousand Blades?"

"Uh, no. Who's that? Some high-caliber demon?"

"Correct. Hundreds of years ago, she was a living legend, cutting through any demon that stood in her path, leaving a sea of blood behind her. She earned her title of Demon Lord. She belonged to the race called the Izurdians, possessing the ability to use each strand of their pitch black hair as a sword. If only she hadn’t disappeared, I would very much like to spar against her some day.”

“Hmm, Izurdians, eh? Never heard of that type of a demon.”

“I’m not surprised. They are considered extinct these days. My hunch is, though, that they are merely in hiding, including their leader, the aforementioned Demon of A Thousand Blades.”

“In hiding? Why? If she’s so strong, why hide away from the world?”

She fell silent, only responding with a wordless smile.

...Ah, that also describes herself, doesn’t it?

“Well, enough about me. Let’s talk about you instead.”

In a flash, she disappeared, only to reappear right behind me, wrapping her arms around my stomach before I could even react.

"...What is this? Don't tell me you're some kind of a pervert?"

"You're warming up. You're blushing."

"In case you don't realize it, we're inside a hot spring right now."

"I beg to differ. You see, my senses are much more honed compared to the average person. I can sense people's movement by the slight shifts in the air. And when I hug someone like this, there's nothing they can hide from me. You're embarrassed, just like any other growing girl will feel when she's being hugged by her mother at such an old age."

"... Don't you dare compare yourself to my mother."

"Ah, anger. It seems I have offended you. Your mother… she's precious to you, isn't she? Please, child, tell me all about her."

She then started to gently pat my head. The worst thing about this wasn’t the fact that she was invading my personal space and treating me like a child, but it was the fact that I enjoyed it. Her touch… it was as warm as the touch of Mother back when she was still alive, or the touch of Helen whenever she comforted me. As shameful as it was to admit, she was right. I was still a lonely child at heart.

"...I do this for her. I don't wish to see anyone else suffer in my empire. Not like her."

I told her the truth, how her life, her death, and her abandonment by my father led me to desire a nation where people like her would not be taken advantage of by others. I told her that I also desired revenge, against those witches who conspired her death. And against Father who had abandoned her to her fate. And, above all, I told her that I wished to fulfill Mother's desire to see me as Empress.

When I was finished, she hugged me even tighter, pressing her average-sized breasts against my shoulder. Nothing like Helen's, but it still sent a wave of pleasantness in through me.

"Little one, I see it now, why your blade is so terribly lonely."

"My blade? What are you talking about?"

"Every sword user swings their blade differently. I can judge a person’s heart just by the swing of her blade.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

She responded with a giggle. “I’m the Sword Goddess here. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“...True enough.” I sighed. “There are still a lot of things I don’t know about the sword. It’s my only talent too, unlike my sister, who’s probably the most charismatic and beautiful princess in the whole world.”

“Then, you just have to polish that talent.”

I paused. “Wait, does that mean—”

“Yes, I’m accepting you as a student, or rather as Frida’s student. You should train with her first. When you get better, then you can train with me.”

She released her grip on me at last, and once again, she disappeared from my back, reappearing right in front of me in a flash. It was another movement technique my eyes couldn’t follow.

With a serious look, she stood in front of me, slightly towering over me due to our height difference.

“Fiora Guinevere Pendragon. I accept thee as a disciple of the Order of Galahad. I hergrant thee the rank of Champion. Do you accept?”

“I do.”

She reached her right hand towards me, resting it on the top of my head for a few seconds before retracting it.

“Then, from now on, thou shall walk and swing your blade at the path of truth and justice, as our founder, Galahad, and his teacher, Arthur, once did.”

And then, her smile returned.

“There. I am not much for formality, you see, so I would rather keep this short. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Ha, I can see that. Who does their acceptance ceremony butt-naked in the middle of a hot spring?” I returned with a grin.

“Now get yourself dressed. I’ve told Frida to prepare a robe that will fit you as her student.”

And so, from that day on, I was a student of the Galahad Order.

I didn’t know how many years it would take. But from this day onward, I would train without rest every single day. I needed to graduate as quickly as I could, before either of those two took down the other, thus consolidating the entire might of the Empire beneath them. The best case scenario would be for me to come back before any of them fell to the other’s machinations, and before Father fell to his illness as well. The worst case scenario: Father would have died and one of them would have been crowned Emperor or Empress.

...Yes, it would be harsh and unpleasant. But it was necessary—to gain the strength I needed.

And besides, I couldn’t lose to him. I just knew he would be so much stronger when we met again. And next time, I would be strong enough to beat him at last, even against his magic. After all, an empress must be stronger than her knight. That is the way of the Holy Empire, a nation founded by the most powerful warrior in history, the Legendary Hero himself.

Just you wait, Hugo Greenwood. I’ll make you fall in love with the adult and improved me, even with that pesky Sherry girl by your side.

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