At 3:30 AM the next morning...
RIIIIIIIIING!
The sharp, blaring sound of the clock's alarm shattered the silence, startling Ren violently from his deep sleep.
"Huh? Um..." Ren rubbed his eyes, wiping a trail of drool from the corner of his mouth as he groggily stumbled toward the bathroom to wash his face. In his entire, short life, he had never once been forced to wake up this early.
After splashing his face with freezing water to wake himself up, he made his quiet trek toward the staff quarters. He carried the heavy longsword he had been given, still securely wrapped in its long strips of white cloth. Between the emotional exhaustion and his gruelling solo training, he had simply been too tired yesterday to even unwrap it.
As he approached the open field leading to the staff quarters, he spotted a valiant figure waiting for him in the pre-dawn darkness.
It was Tsumugi.
She had traded her crisp maid uniform for a rugged brown leather tunic and long black pants tucked securely into sturdy combat boots. A steel longsword was sheathed at her hip. Her long, straight black hair was tied back into a high, practical ponytail, and her arms were crossed firmly over her chest. Standing there in the cool morning mist, she looked less like a cold-faced servant and more like a fierce female knight preparing for a duel.
"You're on time," Tsumugi said deeply, a slightly satisfied look appearing on her stoic face. 'I have taught this child well,' she thought proudly.
But as she looked down at the small boy holding the tightly wrapped bundle, a flash of dissatisfaction crossed her mind. 'He didn't even look at it yet. Does he not care about the gift I gave him?'
"Unwrap your sword," Tsumugi commanded flatly.
"Ah—good morning, Tsumu—" Ren started to politely greet her, but the sudden, sharp command cut him off, causing his small body to subconsciously snap to a stiff attention.
He quickly unwrapped the bundle without another word of hesitation. The long, white cloth strips unspooled rapidly, slipping through his fingers to form a messy pile on the damp morning grass.
The weapon finally revealed itself, and it was breathtakingly well-made.
It was currently encased in a rich, dark brown leather scabbard reinforced with polished steel fittings. Scaled perfectly for a child's stature, the weapon had an overall length of 75 cm (approx. 29.5 inches). The hidden blade accounted for 55 cm (approx. 21.5 inches) of that length, while the tightly leather-bound grip measured 15 cm (approx. 6 inches)—just long enough for Ren to comfortably grip it with either one or two hands.
The remaining 5 cm (approx. 2 inches) was made up of a solid steel pommel at the base to perfectly balance the weight, and a sleek, unadorned cross guard sitting just above the handle to protect his fingers.
"Woah..." Ren breathed, staring at the weapon in pure, childlike awe.
Eagerly, he gripped the hilt and pulled. With a soft, metallic shhhk, the hidden blade was perfectly revealed. The polished silver steel seemed to gleam, catching the faint, cool rays of the pre-dawn light. Even though Ren didn't know the first thing about examining the quality of a blade, he was still incredibly satisfied by the perfect, balanced weight of it in his hands.
Seeing the absolute awe on the child's face, Tsumugi gave a minute nod of satisfaction, secretly proud of her choice. Even though the sword was not a supernatural artifact imbued with magic, it was still a masterpiece forged by peak mortal craftsmen, specially imported all the way from Europe.
"Now, sheathe it and put it aside," Tsumugi commanded flatly, her stoic mask slipping perfectly back into place.
Ren blinked, slightly confused. He wondered why he had to put it away right after she had clearly wanted him to unwrap it, but he didn't dare question her out loud. He obediently slid the beautiful blade back into its leather scabbard and carefully set it down on the grass.
Then, moving unhurriedly, Tsumugi bent down and retrieved a wooden practice sword that had been lying unnoticed in the damp grass. Without warning, she tossed it directly at Ren.
He quickly stumbled forward a half-step, his hands fumbling slightly before he managed to snatch it out of the air. It was much heavier than it looked, carved from dense, solid oak.
"For every training session from now on, you will be using this practice sword," Tsumugi instructed, her voice returning to its strict, no-nonsense baseline. "You will use it until I deem you worthy of handling a live blade without cutting yourself."
"The style I am going to teach you is the Kunst des Fechtens—the Art of Fencing," Tsumugi explained, her voice carrying clearly through the crisp morning air. "It is a traditional German longsword system. Because the Ritsuzen family has ancient European ancestry, this style has been passed down through our lineage for centuries. While the masters use magic, this swordplay is strictly practiced by the martial staff of the estate."
Without warning, Tsumugi shifted her footing. She raised her wooden sword high above her right shoulder, the tip pointing slightly backward. Her entire presence changed from a quiet maid to a coiled spring.
"This is the Vom Tag—the guard 'From the Roof'."
Swish!
Before Ren could even blink, her sword descended in a vicious, blindingly fast diagonal cut that cleaved the morning mist in two. The sheer force of the swing made the air whistle sharply.
"That was the Vor—the initiative," Tsumugi stated, freezing the tip of her wooden blade mere inches from the grass. "You attack first, seizing control of the fight and leaving no room for your opponent to act."
"Wow..." Ren breathed, his eyes sparkling with awe. He had never seen someone move so fast.
Tsumugi stood tall, easily resting the heavy oak blade against her shoulder. "In this system, there are four primary guards you must master. You have just seen Vom Tag. The others are Ochs, the Ox, held high by the head to thrust; Pflug, the Plow, held low by the hips to defend; and Alber, the Fool, pointing at the dirt to bait an attack."
She pointed her wooden blade squarely at Ren's chest.
"And there are three ways to fight. The Vor, where you strike first. The Nach, where you defend and strike after them. And the highest level, the Indes, where you intercept their blade and strike them at the exact same time." Tsumugi lowered her weapon. "But before you can even think about the Vor, you must learn how to stand. Show me Vom Tag."
Ren scrambled quickly, grabbing his heavy wooden sword with both hands and hoisting it over his shoulder, trying to mimic her exact posture. Almost immediately, the heavy oak began to drag his arms down, his small wrists trembling under the weight.
Tsumugi walked slowly around him, her hollow eyes scanning his atrocious posture. Without a word, she used the tip of her own wooden blade to ruthlessly tap his elbows into place, nudging his feet apart and adjusting the angle of his trembling wrists until his stance mirrored hers.
"Good. Stay this way," Tsumugi commanded flatly. "Once you can hold this posture without any difficulty, you may move on to the Vor."
Then, without a single word of farewell, Tsumugi turned on her heel and walked back toward the staff quarters. It was nearly time for the daily morning briefing with the head maid and the rest of the estate staff, and she didn't want to be late.
"Ah... um..." Ren stammered, left standing alone in the damp grass, awkwardly holding the heavy oak sword above his right shoulder.
Despite his rapidly burning muscles, a spark of genuine determination flared in his chest. He wanted to master this swordsmanship. More than that, he realized he wanted to impress this cold-faced maid who had taken care of him since birth. The very fact that she had volunteered to train him made his deep-rooted terror of her lessen just a fraction.
Fuelled by this new self-affirmation, Ren tightened his grip on the practice sword and stared intently straight ahead.
However... he was still just a child.
With no one there to supervise him, and the static stance being the absolute most boring part of training, Ren's patience gradually began to fray. His arms ached, but his imagination raced. He really, really wanted to try that incredibly cool, whistling slash Tsumugi had done earlier.
Glancing shiftily to his left and right to make sure the field was completely empty, Ren took a deep breath. Stealthily shifting his weight, he squeezed the hilt and swung the heavy wooden sword downward with all his might.
Unbeknownst to Ren, Tsumugi had already returned from her morning briefing. Dressed back in her crisp, immaculate maid uniform, she watched silently from the shadow of the estate.
For the first time, a flicker of genuine astonishment broke through her usually hollow eyes.
Ren was an absolute beginner. When he had started his secret swings, his movements were expectedly clumsy, the heavy oak pulling him off balance. But as he continued to practice, a frightening adaptability revealed itself. With every swing, his body naturally course corrected. His footing adjusted, his grip shifted, and the arc of his heavy wooden sword grew closer and closer to the flawless strike she had demonstrated earlier.
'It seems this child possesses some talent for swordsmanship,' Tsumugi thought. She remained hidden in the distance, silently watching over the sweating boy.
Eventually, Ren slowed to a halt. He was thoroughly exhausted from the heavy swinging, his small arms trembling with fatigue, but he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. His Vor strike was finally starting to feel sharp.
Taking this as her cue, Tsumugi stepped out from her hiding spot and walked silently onto the grass.
"You lack the patience to hold a basic stance," a cold, flat voice suddenly rang out behind him.
Ren jumped nearly a foot in the air, spinning around to find Tsumugi standing there. "T-Tsumugi-nee! I—I was just—"
"However," Tsumugi interrupted smoothly, her gaze dropping to his wooden sword. "Your Vor is adequate. You did a good job adjusting your grip."
Ren's eyes widened. Coming from the strict, emotionless maid, that tiny sliver of praise felt like winning a massive prize. A bright, proud smile broke out on his exhausted face.
"Since you are so eager to move, we will move," Tsumugi instructed, stepping forward. "I explained the four primary guards to you earlier. Now, your body will memorize them."
Using the tip of her wooden sword, she tapped his wrists, forcing him to shift his heavy blade from his shoulder up beside his ears. "This is Ochs."
She then tapped his elbows, pushing the hilt down to his hip. "This is Pflug."
Finally, she pressed the tip of his sword all the way down to the dirt. Ren let out a quiet breath, feeling a wave of relief as gravity finally took the weight of the oak. "And Alber."
Tsumugi stepped back, crossing her arms over her maid apron. "A fight is a fluid conversation between these four postures. Transition between them in order. One hundred times."
Ren's proud smile instantly crumbled into despair. "O-one hundred?!"
"Two hundred," Tsumugi corrected without missing a beat. "Begin."
She crossed her arms, watching him struggle beneath the weight of the wood. "Once you are proficient in these four stances, we will move on to actual bladework. Today, you will only drill these four postures. If you do well, tomorrow I will show you how to properly transition your Vom Tag into a true Vor strike, just as you attempted earlier."
Still reeling from his own stupid mistake that had doubled his punishment, Ren blinked as the meaning of Tsumugi's words finally registered.
He gets to learn the cool swing tomorrow.
As if plunged into a pool of pure adrenaline, Ren's exhaustion vanished. The promise of officially learning that whistling slash completely wiped away his despair. His eyes burned with a fierce, childlike motivation.
'Alright! Two hundred!' Ren cheered internally, gripping the heavy oak hilt with renewed strength and immediately shifting his footing.