Sword Emperor, Becoming the Young Lady of a Viscount House

Chapter 56: Graduation War (1)

Time passed quickly.

In the meantime, the war that had felt so distant was now right around the corner.

One week. Less than a week remained until the date announced in the declaration of war.

The cadets moved busily.

Led by Gareth, they devoted themselves to grueling training.

“Our main enemy is!”

“The Royal Faction! The Royal Faction!”

Perhaps effort truly never betrays, as the cadets had transformed into veritable demons themselves.

Of course, even amidst all this, Beatrice remained leisurely.

She yawned lazily, scratching her belly like a cat.

[They’re working so hard, and young Beatrice is just napping away.]

‘...I worked hard last time. I’m the type who gets things done in one go. Don’t you know that by now?’

[...I can’t deny it. After all, you’ve reached a remarkable level.]

‘I’m still only halfway there.’

[If only your mana capacity increases, you could reach it immediately. The level of a ‘Master,’ at merely 16 years of age.]

-Soft chuckle.

Beatrice smiled quietly and leaned comfortably against the tree.

The tree atop the hill, which had become her designated spot before she realized it.

She even gave it a name. The tree looked ancient and massive, something impossible to find in her previous world, so she called it the Baobab Tree. Beatrice liked the name she had come up with.

-Blazing sun.

Sunbathing felt delightful.

It wasn’t a prime spot for no reason. The sunlight struck directly, allowing her to bask in its warmth. Sitting with the tree, soaking in the rays, even her twisted personality seemed to take on a saintly demeanor.

With a generous heart, she muttered to herself.

“Master. It’s nothing special.”

[...You’re probably the only person in this world who dismisses a Master so casually.]

“Do you understand now? Why I won’t make a contract with you?”

[How absurd! Even if you become a Master, you won’t be able to defeat the Masters who have already established themselves!]

“What? Absurd? Because of that comment, there’s no contract.”

[...If I apologize, would you reconsider?]

“Absolutely not.”

-Smirk.

Naturally, Beatrice showed no mercy to Solid.

A week ago, as soon as she received her mana heart, Beatrice had attempted something reckless.

Despite her lack of ‘qualification,’ she forcibly created an Aura Blade.

It was possible because she had already reached that state once before. It was something only Beatrice could achieve in this world.

Of course, just forming an Aura Blade once didn’t mean she could become a Master.

Still, it wasn’t as though her effort was wasted.

She had paved the way in advance. Like a sketch in a drawing or a blueprint in construction.

‘If my prediction is correct, I’ll become a Master before I turn 20. And when I do…’

Solid had said that even if she became a Master, she wouldn’t be able to defeat the other Masters. That the gap between them was too vast…

Well.

That was simply because Solid didn’t know Beatrice’s true power.

She had confidence.

As soon as she reached the level of a Master.

...She would instantly reclaim the pinnacle she had achieved in her past life.

“Yawn—.”

That was why she could afford to be so relaxed. Beatrice had already achieved everything there was to achieve with the sword.

Unlike others, she didn’t need to waste time swinging her sword 10,000 times pointlessly.

[This is the laziest I’ve ever seen you. It’s one thing to yawn so ungracefully, but shouldn’t you lose some of that arm fat?]

Solid couldn’t hold back his nagging.

No matter how impressive it was that she had briefly created an Aura Blade at such a young age,

how could a swordsman have fat on their arms!

In fact, it wasn’t just her arms—she was soft all over. Her muscles were nowhere near the level expected of a warrior.

[At least do some exercise! Stop taking naps all the time!]

“Geez, you’re so noisy… Being soft feels great.”

[...]

Beatrice was content with her body.

Sure, it was true she had been lazing around recently, so she’d gained a little fat.

But she wasn’t overweight. For some reason, her body stayed on the brink of gaining weight without actually doing so.

‘Hmm, this kind of body isn’t bad either.’

It was just that her muscles had turned into fat. In the first place, a typical viscount’s daughter wouldn’t have much muscle to begin with.

But this softness was unexpectedly pleasant. Beatrice was someone who preferred comfort over firmness when she slept, and her body now felt like a natural pillow. She had no intention of giving it up.

[Arvanceco would have to see you like this.]

‘If he were a normal uncle, wouldn’t he be proud? Seeing a niece who eats and sleeps well—who would criticize that?’

Still, maybe she should lose a bit of belly fat.

-Tap tap.

As she lazily poked her belly,

“Assembly!”

the sharp, disciplined voices of cadets responding to the call echoed even to the hill.

“Assemmmmblllly!”

**

-Strolling leisurely.

If this place were a military base, Beatrice would be the senior-most soldier.

Hands in her pockets, she strolled over at her own pace, her demeanor making it clear she was in charge without needing to say a word.

“Riche, what is this? Really. Why have you gotten so chubby since I last saw you?”

“You told me not to exercise.”

“...I never said not to exercise.”

“......”

Beatrice had no rebuttal.

She merely extended her right wrist.

Seria placed her hand on Beatrice’s wrist and began her diagnosis.

“...Healed?”

“There haven’t been any issues since that time, right?”

Seria looked at her suspiciously. Beatrice nodded. She had been so cautious recently that she had even gained weight.

“That’s strange. ...Why hasn’t it healed at all?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Nothing has changed since then. Are you sure you haven’t overexerted yourself recently?”

Beatrice’s brow furrowed. She thought hard but couldn’t recall anything.

“I didn’t do that.”

[Aura Blade.]

When she couldn’t recall, Solid stepped in to help.

‘Ah, that happened.’

Only then did Beatrice remember the reckless night she had in an attempt to carve the path to becoming a Master.

It seemed her wrist had been significantly affected.

“It hasn’t worsened, right?”

“No, it hasn’t worsened.”

“Then that’s fine.”

Beatrice nodded coolly.

She then walked toward the gathering place where the cadets were assembled.

The cadets stood in perfect formation.

Not far away, the Royal Faction cadets were gathered as well.

Despite the considerable distance, a subtle tension hung between the two groups.

It was natural, given that they were on the verge of battle.

The Royal Faction appeared far more relaxed than the Aristocratic Faction.

No, they were half-laughing in mockery.

“…I heard this training is rather intense,” Seria muttered faintly.

Beatrice stopped at her words.

“It’s the final week.”

“Can’t Beatrice sit this one out? That’s the priestess’s advice.”

“…No.”

Whether it was possession or reincarnation, Beatrice had acquired a new body.

She had no intention of using it carelessly. After all, as she aged, she realized that health was all that truly remained.

Even so, this cautious Beatrice decided she needed to do what had to be done.

This was the final training.

The cadets, led by Gareth, were pushing themselves to their limits.

Beatrice recalled her time at the officer academy.

There wasn’t much to remember since it had only been less than two weeks.

What was certain was that she had earned the trust of the cadets and had proven herself. They genuinely followed her lead. This dynamic would likely continue on the battlefield.

However…

…One must always finish strong.

The battle against the Royal Faction was the final stage of Torze Officer Academy’s training.

Human memory tends to recall the beginning and the end most vividly.

Even if it put strain on her wrist, it was something that had to be done.

“If you’re that worried, why don’t you join us? You’re around our age anyway. This could be a good chance for you to train…”

“I-I’ll pass.”

‘That stern look.’

Afraid she’d be roped into joining again, Seria quickly disappeared.

Beatrice smacked her lips. It would’ve been great to have a healer treat her after every swing of the sword.

“His Highness the Crown Prince will now give a speech.”

A now-familiar face appeared. Beatrice folded her arms and listened.

“Honorable nobles of Krapos, before we face the war with Central…”

He spoke for about ten minutes.

It was neither too long nor too short.

“You now stand on the cusp of graduation, with only the final training remaining…”

It was an announcement that the final scheduled training would proceed as planned.

The battle format was simple.

The rules were the same as the mock war they had experienced before. Each faction had a flag, and the side that captured the opponent’s flag would win.

“Based on the results of this battle, you will be assigned appropriate missions and positions. Now, I hope you enjoy this final night before the war.”

With a few final words of encouragement, the Crown Prince departed coolly.

Beatrice’s simple mind boiled it down to two key points.

First: Fight.

Second: If you win, you get a reward.

That was enough. It covered the essentials.

“Beatrice.”

As she stood idly, Gareth approached her.

“Hmm?”

‘This guy is more competent than I thought.’

He was the reason Beatrice could stay so relaxed.

Choosing Gareth over Argos as the commander had been a stroke of genius. Watching Gareth train the cadets was enough to make even Beatrice shake her head in amazement at his harshness.

After all, the harder the training, the more effective it is.

She felt a bit sorry for Argos, but he had taken it well. He acknowledged the decision gracefully and focused on improving himself instead.

The bad first impression was long forgotten.

With no malice in her gaze, Beatrice blinked at him.

“I wanted to ask about tactics.”

“Tactics?”

“Yes. I’ve thought of a few myself, but as expected…”

Gareth stroked his chin. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, a sign of how much he had been pondering.

“When it comes to combat, no one can match you.”

“…Do you have confidence? In this battle, I mean.”

Beatrice smirked faintly.

“I’m confident. And even if we lose, it doesn’t matter. We’ve already done our absolute best.”

Gareth replied resolutely.

Beatrice chuckled softly and gave him a brief response.

“The answer lies in your words.”

“…?”

“We will.”

Beatrice caressed her sword.

It was an old habit that emerged whenever she thought deeply.

Tactics.

Of course, she had them.

She hadn’t been merely napping the whole time.

“As soon as the battle begins, grab the flag and charge.”

Even a “4-drone strategy” is still a strategy.