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“Explain everything that happened with that Zaifa Turkon. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

Her gaze was intense, and there seemed to be some connection with Zaifa. Ronan hesitated for a moment, as it wasn’t a suitable topic for discussion in a public place, but then he spoke up.

“It’s a bit complicated to discuss here. Let’s talk at my place.”

“But didn’t you mention that your hometown is quite far from here?”

“Yes, but I moved here today. I almost became a refugee because of someone, though.”

“Hmm.”

Navirose cleared her throat. It seemed she had a conscience about bringing up a topic unrelated to their current situation. Ronan then led the two women to their new home, and Adeshan, who had tagged along without much choice, asked hesitantly.

“Um, can I really come in too?”

“Of course. You have the right to listen as a senior.”

It was none other than Zaifa’s story that piqued Adeshan’s curiosity. It would have been a lie if she said she wasn’t interested. They arrived at the house within minutes. As they entered, Adeshan noticed that the house was well-furnished.

Iril, wearing an apron, came out to greet them.

“Oh, Ronan, you’ve brought guests?”

“Yeah, Iril. I’ll use the basement for a moment. Where are the others?”

“Aselle said he’s going to find you, and Shullifen is still having his meal. Should I call him?”

“…Never mind. Tell him to enjoy his meal.”

Ronan nodded, seemingly determined to let him eat until the pot was empty or until he burst.

Adeshan, looking at Iril’s attire, was in awe.

“Wow.”

She had never seen such a beautiful being in her life. Ophelia, whom she had seen before, was stunning, but she paled in comparison.

She suddenly felt a sense of inadequacy, as if her tall stature was the only thing she had going for her, making her look plain and unremarkable. A sudden wave of anxiety washed over her.

‘What’s their relationship?’

Adeshan alternated her gaze between Ronan and Iril. Their hair colors and appearances were too different to be family.

Could it be…

She didn’t want to entertain the scenarios that flashed through her mind. Suddenly, Iril, seeing Adeshan’s attire, clapped her hands and said.

“Oh, you must be from the same academy as my younger brother!”

“Younger brother…?”

“Yes, I’m Ronan’s older sister. Nice to meet you!”

Iril’s face also lit up with a smile. Adeshan was also overjoyed, but realizing that she had exhaled a sigh of relief too loudly, she quickly covered her mouth.

“Phew… I’m Adeshan, a second-year student in the Martial Arts Department at the Philleon Academy. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Navirose. I’m the senior Martial Arts professor at the Philleon Academy.”

Just like Adeshan, Navirose also extended her hand to greet Iril. Hearing the word “Professor,” Iril’s eyes sparkled, and she shook her hand eagerly.

“Wow, you’re a teacher! How’s Ronan doing? Is he learning well?”

“In many ways, he’s quite an outstanding student.”

Navirose replied with a complicated expression, her lips twisting slightly. Ronan grumbled something about not needing to drink and headed for the basement.

The basement served as an emergency shelter with various security facilities. As the thick iron door closed behind them, Navirose finally spoke.

“Now, tell me. What happened with Zaifa Turkon?”

“Well… this is a really unbelievable story…”

Ronan began to explain everything that had happened since recently. Tracking Nebula Clazier, meeting Zaifa, preventing a bomb terror attack while trying to kill Wyvern, and even Zaifa and her subordinates helping with his sister’s move. Navirose listened attentively and then spoke with a serious expression.

“This could have been a disaster. I wonder if those bastards were targeting Roma.”

“Yes, they’re getting bolder by the day.”

Thinking about it again, it was quite nerve-wracking. If the Roma Mountain had been destroyed, the damage would have been unimaginable. The Winter Witch, who was relatively unknown to the world until recently, had suddenly become one of the Empire’s worst criminals for a reason.

“Thank you for your hard work. I’ll report this separately to the headmaster. But is what you said about Zaifa helping with your sister’s move true?”

Ronan nodded, and Navirose raised an eyebrow. She smiled as if she couldn’t believe it.

“It seems like she really liked you.”

“Well, it did seem that way.”

“To warn you in advance, don’t get too close to Zaifa. That old cat is dangerous.”

“Is it really that serious?”

“Yes. Maybe even more than Nebula Clazier. Just look at her Nightfang Blade, and you’ll know.”

At the mention of Nightfang Blade, Adeshan shivered. Navirose gently held Iril’s hand and continued.

“At that time, Zaifa killed over a thousand Imperial soldiers. That’s why everyone doubted when they heard she became a subordinate of the Emperor.”

“…She killed so many.”

Ronan scratched his chin. He had also heard something about Zaifa.

The Northern Massacre.

Originally, she should have disappeared with the dew on the leaves or been pursued by the Empire.

The Northern Beastmen Alliance led by Zaifa captured the Barsa Castle in only three days. Everyone believed that they would advance to the capital.

“But Zaifa made a choice that no one could have imagined.” Navirose, after briefly reflecting on her memories, twisted her lips.

“That cat knew it all along. That, in the end, she would be defeated.”

Instead of fighting to the bitter end, Zaifa chose negotiations, even at the risk of her own life, with the already-occupied Barren Glacier. She offered to withdraw her troops and let the Northern Beastmen go free in exchange for leaving her subordinates alone.

Impressed by her abilities and determination, the Emperor accepted the proposal. As a result, the Northern Beastmen regained their freedom and land, and the Emperor gained the sharpest sword in the Empire.

Ronan chuckled, “She is smarter than I thought. I thought she’s just good at fighting.”

“That’s what makes her even more dangerous. We can’t predict what she’s thinking.”

Navirose emphasized the unpredictability of someone like Zaifa. Ronan neither agreed nor disagreed with her opinion. He simply sighed lightly at the thought of having more targets to watch over.

‘It seems like things are getting busier.’

Zaifa, like other strong individuals, never revealed herself on the final battlefield. Such uncertain elements had to be closely monitored.

Navirose said, “Let’s head back for now. We have scheduled lessons.”

“Yes, we should. I also need to work on my club activity report. I’ll leave out the part about Nebula Clazier, of course.”

“Poor Professor Varen. Handle it yourself.”

Having concluded their conversation, the three of them headed straight for Philleon. Iril waved them off with a cheerful smile.

“Goodbye, both of you! Ronan, take care and see you on the weekend!”

“Thank you.”

“Uhm, see you next time…”

Navirose made a brief farewell. Adeshan also bowed respectfully, treating her with an attitude one might have towards a saint.

Ronan thought bringing them to his house was a good idea. It meant there would be someone to help if anything happened to Iril.

Navirose remarked, “By the way, you mentioned that you can manifest your Sword Qi?”

“Yes, to some extent.”

“That wretched Jhordin must have paid for it. Why didn’t he come earlier?”

“Well, there were already a lot of things to do…”

Before, after hearing about Nebula Clazier, Ronan mentioned that he had been too busy to manifest his Sword Qi. Navirose lightly scolded him by pulling his tongue. Ronan’s face, fatigued from exhaustion, was far from being in any condition to argue. Ronan suddenly remembered the events from earlier and asked a question.

“By the way, what have you two been doing since this morning? It’s not the weekend.”

“Ah, well, um…”

Out of the blue, Adeshan glanced at Navirose, who remained silent, and she continued walking without responding. Ronan chuckled, seeing her uncertain response.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s not that. It wouldn’t be fair. I also heard some… sensitive information.”

Adeshan had learned about Nebula Clazier for the first time today. She didn’t know about Zaifa either. Whispering in Ronan’s ear as if she had overheard something, Navirose said,

“…I visited an Imperial military camp nearby.”

“A military camp? Why?”

“The professor asked me to deliver something to one of their officers. In the end, I couldn’t deliver it, though.”

“Was it something very heavy?”

Adeshan awkwardly chuckled, taking out an envelope from her pocket. It didn’t look like something someone else should have carried.

Navirose mentioned that she had spent two hours walking around the camp because she had forgotten to whom she was supposed to deliver the envelope. Adeshan had observed soldiers conducting morning training during that time. Adeshan scratched her cheek and asked,

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do. It’s definitely a good excuse. It must be for someone who dreams of becoming a soldier.”

The envelope was most likely an opportunity to open Adeshan’s eyes. It wasn’t something that should be handed off to someone else. Navirose had already walked ahead of them. Ronan thought of asking about the sword Qi manifestation but forgot. Zaifa had mentioned it. It wasn’t essential right now; getting some much-needed sleep was.

‘I’ll meet her tomorrow and ask. I should get some sleep now.’

Ronan sighed, tired from his long day. Ronan’s face was buried in the pillow, as the rhythmic sound of his snoring filled the room. Lucy, who had been cleaning the table, looked up in surprise.

“Lord Ronan?!”

She rushed over to shake his shoulders urgently, but he only mumbled incoherently in his sleep. Eventually, the sound of his snoring echoed even louder. Lucy, her hand still on Ronan’s shoulder, muttered in disbelief,

“What on earth…”

Lucy placed Ronan on the bed, and he seemed to be fine health-wise. She tucked him in and left the room, closing the curtains behind her.

***

It had been two days since Ronan returned to the martial arts arena. It wasn’t due to laziness; he had simply gotten up, washed, had his meal, and made his way here. That’s why it was now noon. Ronan, yawning and stretching, grumbled irritably.

“Ugh… jeez, if I keep this up, I won’t grow any taller…”

Still, a good night’s sleep had lightened his body. Students were scattered around, engaging in sparring matches and practicing their swordplay. In the distance, Navirose stood, observing the students’ stances. She didn’t turn her gaze away as she addressed Ronan.

“Ronan, you’ve finally arrived.”

“Yes… you had to wait for quite a while.”

“I knew you’d say that. We’re starting the lesson right away, so go over there to the empty spot.”

Navirose extended her finger, indicating the area with training dummies. Ronan compiled and made his way there. Yawning and shaking off his drowsiness, he muttered in frustration.

“Ugh…Is this really necessary? It’s so far away.”

The training dummies were easily thirty paces away.

“It’s fine if you miss; just give it a shot.”

“In that case…”

Ronan focused his mind and swung his sword.

Swish!

With a sensation of his energy draining away, a crescent-shaped Sword Qi shot forward. As expected, it didn’t hit the training dummy; it flew and disappeared after about nine paces. Navirose nodded approvingly, not surprised.

“Hmm, not bad.”

“Come on, is this all? It feels like peeing against the wind.”

“Sometimes it happens, especially for those who don’t understand the word ‘gradual’ like you do. Remember, you skipped the user level and jumped straight to sword expert level.”

Navirose emphasized that Ronan shouldn’t rush. But he couldn’t afford to take his time, not with the curse blocking his mana flow. He was about to insist on learning Sword Qi techniques when a memory from his time with Valzac in the mountains flashed in his mind.

“By the way, I have a question. Can you change the shape of Sword Qi?”

“Yes, it’s possible. You can control the size to some extent.”

“No, not just the size. I mean, can you make it look like… well, not like Sword Qi?”

“Explain in more detail.”

The Sword Qi Valzac had manifested looked like a raging storm, far more potent than regular Sword Qi. Ronan made gestures and described it in detail. He also mentioned the fact that the sword spirit of Lamancha had turned crimson. Navirose raised an eyebrow as she listened.

“Hmm… seems like Master Doron invested quite a bit of effort into forging your weapon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Give me your sword.”

Her voice carried an inexplicable sense of awe. Ronan shrugged and handed over Lamancha.

As soon as Navirose grasped the hilt, the crimson mana burst forth like blood rushing from a wound.