Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

As I held Michael, I quietly recalled the bright faces of my mother and father.

Dealing with the poor, beautiful children who kept bursting into laughter felt more like comforting a beloved niece or nephew than showing respect to my parents.

Even today, it was the same. They were so delighted and surprised by my suggestion to go on a trip, and their reactions were so endearing it was impossible to describe.

I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about how my mother, usually so serious, had gotten excited, as if we were dressing for a ball, all wearing matching clothes as a family and preparing to go out, and how my father, normally composed, couldn’t hide his excitement and was fidgeting with impatience.

I hugged the child, who had his arm around my waist and was fast asleep, tightly.

Perhaps it was because we were buried under a soft goose-feather blanket, or perhaps it was because Michael was deeply asleep, but his body temperature felt unusually warm.

The two months I would spend with my family were passing quickly, and I was already feeling regret at how quickly time was slipping away, wondering how I should spend each day.

* * *

A trip is a trip, but training must not be neglected.

I woke up early and headed to the family training grounds as usual. Even after I had left for the academy, it seemed like I had kept up with my morning training, as 15 out of 50 knights had gathered at the training grounds.

When I greeted the familiar faces, some of the group cheered.

Seeing them exchange coins, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

There was a time when I disapproved of their lightheartedness, despite walking the path of a warrior, but now I didn’t feel that way. The knights, who respected and cared for each other with such delicate personalities, were well-suited to this peaceful and gentle domain.

“See, our young master said he’d come out on time.”

“Could it be that he trained every morning at the academy too?”

“What’s the use of talking about it? It’s obvious, right, young master?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

The Ernhardt family’s knights were known as the Magnolia Knights. The knights from the Count’s estate, where my grandfather lived, and the knights from the estate of the Baron, where I currently resided, were close and often spent time together.

They occasionally trained together a few times a year and would exchange members on a regular schedule.

In particular, knights who hadn’t yet started families would frequently travel between the two estates, choosing which one suited them best for work.

The knights of the family mainly handled the security and defense of the manor, as well as maintaining order within the domain. As a result, they were highly respected by the common people.

Their constant physical training and their impressive forms naturally attracted the attention of others. Even as they grew older, their strong bodies and steady wages were a source of pride.

Children who dreamed of becoming knights would often volunteer to serve as apprentices in the family from the ages of 8 to 10, training their bodies and learning basic tasks. Even if they were not particularly gifted in martial arts, they could become low-level warriors.

Those who worked hard and reached the level of a second-tier warrior would be granted the title of knight by the lord they served.

The knights’ titles were of the “dame” rank, and any family head who held a title of baron or higher could directly grant knighthood to their subordinates.

Before I entered Siron Academy, I trained at this very training ground.

I wore sandbags on my arms and legs and ran a set distance. With a wooden sword, I practiced various forms.

The training, which seemed simple, was also due to my underdeveloped body needing to build a strong foundation, but it was also an effort to avoid suspicion.

It was unexpected when the knights, seeing my training, decided to join in.

The family’s knights ran with me, keeping pace with my speed, or swung swords alongside me. It felt good to see their forms, and I also watched their postures and practiced sword techniques together with them.

As a result, I naturally grew closer to them.

Several times they suggested I should speak formally to them, saying that I was the son of their lord, but I continued to speak casually with them, unlike how I interacted with other servants.

Perhaps that’s why I was closest to them, aside from my blood relatives.

Among them, Sir Clover Lawrence was an exceptional hard worker.

When I first started training, he was only at the level of a second-tier warrior, but within ten years, he had reached the pinnacle of his skills.

Considering the natural energy of Siron and the methods he used to cultivate his abilities, his progress was impressive.

At just a young age, Lawrence had married one of my mother’s maidservants, whom he had grown close to, and they had held their wedding at the Ernhardt family estate five years ago.

It had been a secret, and I had seen him sneaking around, worried about being caught by his superiors, but I had pretended not to notice.

Lawrence, with coins gathered in his pocket, approached with a smile.

“Thanks to you, young master, I made a fortune today.”

“Is this for Lady Daisy?”

“It would be nice to just give it to her, but I thought I’d buy her a flower as a memento too.”

I smiled back at him, seeing his playful expression and tone.

Was it the affection born from their work together that made it feel so touching? The way they had to hold back their longing while working only made their feelings more intense. I listened to his ramblings, letting them drift past my ears.

We took our positions at the training grounds. The knights, accustomed to the routine, stood a suitable distance apart and raised their swords.

“How did you all train while I was away?”

“We simply warmed up, and then we practiced the three-sword technique you taught us—horizontal, vertical, and thrusting cuts—five hundred times each in a single round.”

“Five hundred times?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“…”

“…Well, young master, you said we should adjust the number of repetitions when you were here too. You said we shouldn’t do a thousand, or else it would interfere with the afternoon shifts. It’s been years since that conversation.”

“It’s been years, true. But now you should be able to easily do five hundred. If you’ve reached a higher level, you should aim for more.”

“That’s true, but…”

There were about three or four knights hesitating.

They were comfortable in this peaceful land. They knew that if they couldn’t endure the immediate pain, reaching a higher level would be distant.

When they were at the lower levels, they worked hard because they wanted to grow stronger, but now, having reached a certain level, they had become satisfied with their current state and had grown lazy with their training.

Before I entered Siron Academy, I would have scolded them severely.

I believed that unless they became even a little stronger, they wouldn’t survive, and I would have urged them on, making them listen to me.

But now, even if I tried to feign impatience, I wasn’t in a hurry.

“Forget the ones who don’t want to do it, and let those who do practice the basic training a thousand times. After watching what you do today, I’ll teach you a new sword technique.”

“What? If you say it like that, we can’t refuse, can we?”

“Wow, wait… it seems like the young master has learned something strange at Siron Academy.”

Some of the knights who had previously seen the Chaochun Wuai sword and learned parts of it grumbled but still took their positions. Even the lazy ones were now looking excited, and I felt proud to see it.

These were the knights I had trained from the basics, teaching them sword techniques and footwork, carefully selecting and guiding them to improve.

The reason I cared for them so much and regarded them as my disciples was because of this.

Some of the knights were complaining about how they were dying from exhaustion. I didn’t pay any attention to them.

As soon as the first swing started, all the knights took on serious expressions. They stood firmly, their feet planted on the ground, and as if no longer upset, they drew their swords along the right paths.

Straight and true. Right and proper. I was pleased by the straight lines they made.

The calm, disciplined swords were beautiful and admirable, and I had to hold back a smile that kept wanting to appear.

I stood in front of them and also drew my three-sword technique.

Simultaneously, I counted in my mind. There was a clear difference between being the one training and being the one teaching.

I mimicked Maelo Sanson’s expression and gently smiled, carefully observing each knight. It was amusing to see them purposely make sad faces every time I pointed out something wrong.

Sir Ian Ventus, who had seen me off to Siron Academy, was the best among them.

Sir Ian Ventus was now a 43-year-old man, serving as the vice-captain of the Magnolia Knights. He had a humorous smile, a confident manner of speaking and acting, broad shoulders, and strong muscles.

He was a master of the highest level.

For someone at the level of a mere knight of a small estate, his abilities were extraordinary. But, having grown up under the protection of Ernhardt since his early days, he had maintained a shining loyalty, and was respected within the family.

It was no surprise that a master of his level wouldn’t find the three-sword technique difficult, yet he always approached his training with a serious attitude, and I observed him closely.

Although I wished to teach the exact same training methods as Maelo Sanson, I was still not at that level, so I could only watch for now.

Even knights who could easily complete five hundred repetitions of the downward cut began to lose their form just before reaching a thousand repetitions.

It took some time to correct their posture, and by the time the other two groups had finished their three-sword technique practice, the day had already grown bright.

We agreed to continue the training later and parted ways. Everyone rushed to wash up and have breakfast, and I also headed to my room.

The familiar sound of footsteps followed me. It was Sir Ventus.

“What’s going on?”

“No, I just felt like I didn’t properly greet you after you came back from such a long trip. I’m curious to know how much taller our young master has grown. You must tell me how your life at the academy was too.”

“Well…”

As I looked up at his warm smile, I felt like I had truly returned home. However, as I stood close to him, his heavy body emitted a strong smell of sweat, and I shook my head.

“Let’s wash up first and talk later. It looks like you have afternoon duty since you came to the morning training?”

“Yes.”

“Then, let’s have breakfast together, you, Michael, and I.”

“Yes! I’ll prepare it right away. I’ll make sure the kitchen knows to include meat for breakfast.”

“…Alright.”

I couldn’t help but feel amused. Meat for breakfast, huh? His big frame hadn’t come easily, after all. It was clear that the kitchen staff had put a lot of effort into preparing the meal. I smiled contentedly.

In the Central Lands, it was common to eat compressed food made from grains (often used for retreat training), but it was natural for those who had grown up well-fed to have bigger bodies.

He was a big eater, not picky, eating with great manners, and consuming enormous amounts of food.

As I knew, he was also the most skilled at using a fork in battle. If there were ever a martial arts competition using forks, I thought Sir Ventus would surely win.

Because of this, when I was young, I had tried to emulate his eating habits and eating prowess.

Now, I knew that rather than simply eating a lot, it was more suitable for me to eat the right amount and increase my exercise. But eating with Sir Ventus wasn’t a strange thing.

The servants had told me breakfast was prepared in the greenhouse.

After washing up, I carried the still-growing Michael in my arms and headed to the greenhouse. As soon as I saw the breakfast table, I burst into laughter.

It wasn’t unusual for the kitchen staff to go all out in preparing a lavish breakfast for Sir Ventus and me, but perhaps because it had been a while, it was done to such an excessive degree that it was truly amusing.

Michael’s gasp and clapping echoed in my ears.