The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 2: With Just a Sword

"My name is Ruben," the boy with brown hair and a face adorned with freckles introduced himself to Karyl. Although Ruben's eyes sparkled with youthful innocence, Karyl was reminded that they were of similar age.

"He may be young, but he has been in the mansion for a long time. If there's any problem, you can talk to him; he's a clever boy," explained an elderly man who was standing beside them. He was named Taylor, and he had long managed the affairs of the MacGovern family.

Well, well, Taylor, it’s good to see you again, Karyl thought, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, he simply nodded in greeting.

So, clothes really do make the man, Taylor mused. The first time Karyl had arrived at the mansion, his appearance had been entirely different. Now, as he stood before them, he looked very much like a nobleman's son.

But that air of confidence... Taylor, observing Karyl, was not just surprised by his noble appearance but also by the aura that Karyl exuded, reminiscent of the dignified aristocrats in the imperial capital. It's odd, considering he's said to be a barbarian.

Karyl, with his posture and aura, seemed even more noble than his brothers who had been there longer.

Even so-called barbaric societies have their class systems, Taylor reflected. Despite being less advanced than the Empire, they're not mere savages.

Taylor looked at Karyl thoughtfully.

Yes, he must be at least the son of a tribal leader. The master wouldn't have brought an ordinary child here, he surmised. The peculiar backgrounds of the five brothers who had arrived before Karyl added weight to this theory.

Well... I hope he is the last one, Taylor thought to himself, realizing Karyl was already the sixth adopted son. The increasing number of adoptees had become a concern. Madam may feel uncomfortable for a while.’

Taylor sighed softly and addressed Ruben. "Well then. Ruben, please take good care of our new young master."

"Yes, Master Taylor," Ruben replied with a tense face.

Unlike the composed Taylor, the other maids were startled and quickly bowed their heads when they noticed Karyl’s gaze.

Well, I understand their reaction; It's the first time they've seen a barbarian, Karyl thought with a hint of a bitter smile. He had grown accustomed to such treatment and expected it would likely continue for some time.

"Please, have a seat," Karyl offered, casually placing tea leaves into the teapot.

"Oh, that's something I can—" started Ruben, but Karyl stopped him with a gesture.

Karyl thought to himself, He might be good at other things, but he's really terrible at making tea, as bad as ever. It's not going to get any better over time.

Remembering this, he smiled bitterly.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh... yes, yes." Ruben replied, accepting the teacup Karyl handed him with a very tense expression.

After taking a sip, Ruben looked at Karyl with wide eyes. "This is delicious. I've never had tea this tasty before."

"You're exaggerating," Karyl dismissed him lightly.

"No, really," Ruben insisted, his face still somewhat tense as he sipped the tea that Karyl had prepared, clearly surprised.

I was with you for a very long time, Karyl thought, watching Ruben as he reflected on their long history together. In his previous life, Karyl struggled to find his place within the MacGovern family, and the same was true for Ruben.

After all, Karyl had been adopted into the family responsible for his tribe's downfall, the very culprits of their ruin. His initial days were marked by constant challenges, with Karyl breaking and ruining everything that came his way. He was always on guard, and Ruben would follow him with a look of fear constantly on his face.

But when I think about it, you were the only one there for me. While almost everyone else kept their distance, you were among the few who didn't avoid me, never labeling me a barbarian, even after my arrival at the mansion, Karyl realized. Ruben was the first person he had met at the mansion and the only person who believed in him until the end.

My only regret is that I realized all this after you died.

Ruben, breaking the silence, asked hesitantly, "Um... Young Master, will you be living here now?"

"Looks like it," Karyl replied.

Attempting to break the awkwardness, Ruben gathered his courage and spoke, "You're new to the central region, right? Since you come from the north... Is there anything you're curious about? Or any place in the mansion you'd like to visit? I can show you around."

Karyl chuckled at Ruben’s confident offer. I doubt there's much for me to be curious about. Perhaps I know more about this mansion than you do, even the state of the family after your passing.

Unaware of Karyl’s thoughts, Ruben looked at him with eager, sparkling eyes, awaiting a response.

"There is one place I’m interested in," Karyl said quietly, gazing out the window as the evening began to fall.

Though it might be a bit rushed... I won't waste time unnecessarily like I did in my previous life, Karyl decided. He pulled himself together and prepared for his first steps toward a different future. By now, everyone was probably gathered there, likely causing a ruckus as they talked about him. However, that was just a minor concern compared to what he planned to do in the future.

Ruben stretched his wrist and tightened his grip, then asked, "Where would that be?"

Karyl uttered the name of the place he had missed, "The MacGovern Residence’s Martial Arts Training Ground."

*

“What do you think of him?” asked one of the brothers as sword clashes echoed throughout the training ground.

“Those eyes alone speak volumes. No further explanation is necessary,” came the reply.

“You say he's from a barbarian tribe. What on earth was Father thinking, bringing in someone he was supposed to kill? It's not much different from defying the imperial decree, is it?” said Elliot, the third-eldest.

“Choose your words carefully,” warned Marte.

“But, brother...”

“Focus on your swordsmanship. Do you plan to complain even in a life-and-death battle? Or...” Martte’s sword abruptly changed direction, targeting Elliot's chest. “Do you find our sparring boring?”

Clang—!

Elliot barely managed to block the attack, but Martte's onslaught was relentless. In a single breath, three consecutive thrusts struck Elliot's shoulder. Clang! Clash! Clang! While he managed to deflect the first two, the last strike was too much for Elliot, and his sword clattered to the ground.

“How could I afford to be distracted while sparring with you?” Elliot sighed, his shoulders drooping. The only one to carry on Kuwell's bloodline, Martte, was acknowledged by all as a flawless successor, both in swordsmanship and character.

“As long as Father brought him, he is now our youngest brother. Do you understand?” Martte said, his tone relaxed yet firm. Being a noble by birth, he was accustomed to such situations.

However, Tiren, the second born, who had been observing their spar, seemed less convinced by Martte's words.

“Do you really mean that?” Tiren asked, his doubt evident.

Martte remained silent for a moment.

“Is it really the same as when you accepted us?” Tiren continued, voicing his suspicion.

The sudden introduction of new siblings was not particularly surprising to them. They all differed in eye color, skin tone, and appearance. They had nothing in common. From a child of fallen nobility to a merchant's son, and even an abandoned child from a monastery—their backgrounds varied greatly. Yet, there was one thing they all shared.

Talent.

Even at a young age, each of them had shown exceptional abilities in one way or another.“I don't know what Father saw in him, but how can he bring a barbarian into our family?” Tiren asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“There is no need to be so upset. We all understand your dislike of barbarians, so let’s not stir up unnecessary trouble,” Martte responded calmly, attempting to pacify the situation.

“What do you think will happen from now on?" Tiren inquired, biting his lips.

“We'll have to wait and see. Whether what Father found in that child outweighs the importance of adhering to the Emperor's decree." Martte mused.

“You don’t think Father is considering him as a candidate for succession, do you?” Tiren asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Martte, without a word, tossed Elliot's fallen sword to the ground.“Nonsense,” he stated firmly. Yet, at that moment, his expression turned cold, with a flicker of uneasiness.

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