Time passed.
Today, Yuri once again found himself slumped before Bernard. His entire body ached from the beating Bernard had given him.
He wanted, just once, to knock that man down and look down on him—but such a day seemed far off.
“Bernard.”
He rarely used honorifics anymore, and so the agreement to speak politely had been quietly abandoned.
“Yes?”
“Did you know?”
“Pardon me?”
“You’re actually quite popular.”
“Huh?”
Instead of answering, Yuri nodded toward the courtyard outside the training hall.
Bernard turned to look, and saw the maids moving laundry carts, giggling among themselves before darting off.
“The maids keep sneaking glances at you.”
Yuri waved his hand in a casual gesture.
“You should wave back.”
“No, thank you.”
“Playing hard to get, huh?”
Yuri stood up.
“How’s your swordsmanship?”
“The prince is right.”
Bernard assessed him.
“There’s no fixed form to your swordsmanship.”
“That’s right. I just move with the flow.”
Yuri felt the movement of his mana method coursing through his body.
Mana responded to his will, spreading through his veins, and that flow took shape again, manifesting in the world.
So he simply embodied the flow of his mana method through his sword.
“Mana method is swordsmanship itself…”
Bernard looked a bit disappointed.
“I can’t learn it myself. To study it, I’d have to watch you closely…”
“Isn’t that good?”
“Which makes me more worried.”
The Soul Slash technique left behind by Erich Briol had been passed down only to Yuri. So to observe it, one had to follow him.
“By the way…”
Bernard thrust his sword into the air—the very attack that had just brought Yuri down.
“You’re growing fast.”
“Of course.”
Yuri shrugged.
It was only natural.
It had to be.
Because this life was ‘sincere.’
“Your aptitude for mana is truly exceptional.”
“Oh?”
Bernard rarely praised others. This was high praise by his standards.
“Yes. I’m surprised. You’re already handling mana this well…”
Yuri felt a faint twinge of guilt.
His rapid adaptation to mana was thanks to his mercenary days.
He had diligently studied to erase traces of the Briol method, and in doing so, his sensitivity to mana had developed.
“Take it slow. I’m worried.”
It was the first time the word ‘worried’ had come from Bernard’s mouth.
“Worried?”
“Yes. The prince is fast. For your age, your achievements are already high.”
“But I just started.”
“You started early.”
“You told me to learn it.”
“I didn’t expect you’d be this fast. Your body isn’t fully matured yet.”
“My beard’s growing.”
“It’s not.”
“It will soon.”
Secondary sexual characteristics usually mark the start of mana method training. For Yuri, those signs were only just beginning to show.
Considering the growth of his mana method, Bernard’s concern was understandable—it was too fast.
But Yuri wasn’t worried. Thanks to memories from his past life, he clearly understood the harmony between body and mana.
“Don’t worry. I’ll control it well.”
“Always observe your insides.”
“Got it.”
Yuri stood.
“Let’s go again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
Bernard’s concern was justified—Yuri was devoted to training.
He had a reason to get stronger quickly.
Before he came of age, an event would shake the continent. Only in the distant future would he understand that it was the prelude to a storm.
Until then, he had to be ready.
“Let’s use real swords.”
“Understood.”
Replacing the wooden sword, he gripped the Guilty sword that had become familiar in his hand.
Suddenly, Yuri asked,
“Are you going to the ball?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“No need.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you never keep your bets.”
“When did I ever?”
“Honorifics.”
“You said it felt awkward.”
“I said it was awkward, not that I disliked it.”
“Fine, bet. If I land a single hit, you go to the ball.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Are you in?”
“I’ll win anyway.”
“We’ll see.”
Yuri didn’t land a single blow.
Every spring, the Briol family hosted a ball, inviting influential nobles and foreign dignitaries.
It was an important event for the Briol royal family.
As Yuri approached the ballroom, he kept fiddling with his clothes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I said this and that don’t look good.”
“If you take everything off, what’s left? If you want, I can just bring you the clothes you wear for sword training?”
“That’d be better.”
“Ugh. Why are boys’ tastes always like this?”
“What did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“You called me a boy…”
“Must have misheard.”
“…”
Lately, Ena had been getting a bit pushy, but Yuri found her cute enough to overlook it. Considering his past life, he was much older than Ena.
“I’ll bring you lots of things you like. You should find a cute lady.”
“Nothing to do, just bring me lots of meat.”
Ena had been drafted to help with ball preparations. It wasn’t originally her job, but she volunteered due to a shortage of hands.
Near the ballroom, servants were moving food supplies.
“Oh, Your Highness.”
Despite carrying heavy loads, they bowed respectfully.
Yuri waved them off.
“Don’t worry about me. Get back to work.”
“Thank you!”
Ena rolled up her sleeves.
“Everyone’s busy. I’ll go ahead.”
“Alright. Good luck.”
“Don’t cause trouble at the ball.”
“Don’t worry.”
She trotted after the servants.
Watching her go, Yuri clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky.
White clouds drifted by.
“Hmm…”
He tried to recall how the ball had gone in his past life.
Since he couldn’t remember, it must have been uneventful.
“No time for this…”
He clicked his tongue and headed toward the ballroom.
Rosso, a familiar face, stood guard at the entrance.
“Your Highness, greetings.”
“Thank you for your hard work, Sir Rosso.”
“You still remember me.”
“How could I forget such a loyal guard?”
“It’s an honor.”
“Knowing you’re protecting the ballroom puts me at ease.”
“Ha ha, thank you.”
“And this is?”
“Yes! Your Highness, I’m Hudson.”
Rosso introduced him.
“He’s new. Even newer than Jared.”
“I see.”
Yuri suddenly extended his hand.
Hudson looked confused, but when Rosso gave him a nudge, he gratefully shook it.
“Thank you for volunteering for the guard. Young people like you are the future of Briol.”
“Th-thank you…”
For the sake of Briol’s unity, such kindness was easy to offer.
Yuri patted his shoulder in appreciation.
“Well then, take care.”
“Yes!”
As they passed, whispers floated behind them.
“The third prince is very kind. Nothing like the rumors.”
“Well… I can see why you’d think that. Understandable.”
“My loyalty is overflowing.”
“Calm down, friend.”
They probably thought they were unheard, but Yuri’s mana-trained ears caught every small compliment.
“Ha ha ha…”
Even the harshest liquor becomes diluted with water. He would dilute the infamy of his past.
“I’m here.”
“Oh, Your Highness.”
“Play it loud.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Yuri appeared, the ballroom’s doorman blew his horn.
The nobles already present rose and bowed.
Yuri glanced around the ballroom before walking to the royal seating.
Cedric greeted him.
“You’re here.”
“Brother.”
Yuri blinked.
The chandelier’s scattered light sparkled in Cedric’s eyes. His neat formal wear made his handsome features shine even more.
“Looking sharp.”
“Thanks. You look good too.”
Though he was the eldest brother Yuri always saw, Cedric looked especially impressive today.
Recently, his eyesight had worsened, so he wore glasses tucked into his breast pocket, which somehow made him look even more refined.
Yuri admired Cedric anew and took his seat.
“Have you seen Joshua?”
“No.”
Yuri shrugged.
“He’ll come when it’s time.”
The horn sounded again, and the ballroom soon filled with nobles.
An unexpected figure appeared.
“Sir Jaime is here. I don’t think he said he’d come.”
Yuri frowned.
Something that hadn’t happened in his past life was happening again.
He hadn’t thought he’d changed much since returning to the past.
But when one thing changed, others reacted, and unexpected events kept unfolding.
He suddenly shivered, realizing how many things were invisibly connected.
“Joshua, why are you late?”
“I overslept.”
Joshua slouched into his seat, his eyes sunken as if he’d done something mischievous the night before.
He buried himself in the chair and said,
“Father will be here soon. I saw him on the way.”
When Fiore arrived, the ball would begin. Most nobles were already seated, waiting.
“What’s wrong, Yuri?”
“Nothing.”
Yuri shrugged. He had the feeling Jaime Theodore was watching him, but dismissed it as his imagination.
Joshua muttered,
“I heard there’s an unexpected guest today…”
“Over there.”
“Who’s that?”
“Count Caidor.”
“What kind of surprise guest is that?”
“He never comes to these things.”
“I don’t care.”
“Then who?”
Before Joshua could answer, the curtain behind them was drawn aside.
Fiore had arrived.
As he appeared, the orchestra fell silent, and all the nobles seated rose to pay their respects.
Yuri bowed his head alongside his two brothers toward their father.
Fiore spoke briefly.
“Enjoy yourselves.”
The moment his words ended, the orchestra burst into lively music.
The ball had begun.
Some nobles lined up to request an audience with Fiore, while the rest immediately took to the dance floor.
Those with a wider perspective followed Fiore’s lead and greeted Cedric.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
“Thank you.”
“We are truly grateful for your invitation…”
But Joshua and Yuri drew little attention.
“They’re ignoring us,” Joshua grumbled.
If this had been the old Yuri, he would have joined in the complaint and caused some kind of trouble.
But now, he was a grown man.
“That’s a good thing. What’s the point of being the center of attention?”
“Why is he acting like this? Did he eat something bad?”
“Heh…”
Joshua’s mental retraining was planned to proceed gradually, so there was no rush.
Yuri picked at his food, observing the scene of the ball.
The nobles who had come without much thought drank and chatted or danced.
The more politically minded gathered in small groups, quietly exchanging secret plans.
And then, at the very end, an unexpected guest arrived.
A trumpet sounded.
The nobles stirred uneasily.
By etiquette, one was supposed to be seated and waiting before the king’s arrival, but this newcomer ignored that rule and arrived after the king.
Who could it be?
At last, a vivid scarlet silhouette appeared at the entrance.
The ballroom fell silent.
Yuri was speechless.
Over a pristine white uniform, a brilliant red cloak billowed.
Golden hair shone like a beacon, and deep green eyes marked the symbol of the continent’s most noble bloodline.
The blood of the Emperor.
Georg, the Empire’s second prince.
Why was he here?
Amid the silence, Fiore finally spoke.
“You’ve come earlier than you said.”
Georg smiled and gave a slight bow.
“I hurried. I happened to be passing nearby and heard some good news.”
“Thank you for visiting this humble place.”
“To call the Swordmaster of Briole’s domain humble is excessive modesty.”
Fiore rose and approached him.
Though Fiore was king, Georg was imperial royalty.
They met each other’s gaze on equal footing and shook hands.
“Sorry for dropping in unannounced.”
“You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Please, enjoy the ball.”
“Gladly.”
The scarlet cloak, a privilege granted to no one but the Emperor’s bloodline, fluttered with his every movement.
Watching their exchange, Yuri furrowed his brow.
Joshua whispered beside him.
“He didn’t come alone.”
As he said, Georg was not alone. Several retainers followed him, and among them, Yuri spotted a face he never wanted to see.
Joshua’s voice brightened.
“See her? She’s really pretty. Who is she?”
He pointed at a young woman.
Yuri murmured her name.
“Ekaterina.”
“Ekaterina?”
Joshua tilted his head in confusion as Yuri continued.
“Ivarna Granzayen.”
Ekaterina Ivarna Granzayen.
Georg Ivarna Granzayen’s sister, daughter of the Emperor.
And Yuri’s sin.