WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 114

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A Person Named Judith (1)

6 a.m.

The training grounds of Zet Frost's estate were, as always, empty and quiet.

It had nothing to do with the early hour.

Zet Frost never picked up a sword unless one of his occasional, spontaneous days of instructional sparring rolled around.

Most of the time, only his butler Glen used the grounds, and even then only two or three times a week.

But that wasn't the case now.

"Hoop!"

"Hup!"

Swish!

Swiiish!

Two young looking swordsmen, hardly past twenty by the look of them, swung their blades with a ferocity that didn't match their age at all.

Judith and Brett Lloyd.

They trained with the kind of focus that made it feel like they were back on the grounds of Krono Fencing Hall itself.

Not a moment wasted. Not a single motion out of place.

They'd been swinging their swords for about an hour when another young swordsman showed up.

Airen Farreira.

He came carrying breakfast, and Judith asked him,

"Meditating again?"

"Mental imagery training. Same thing, more or less."

"I still don't get it. Does that stuff even help? Well, judging by how strong this guy's getting, I guess it must..."

"Never mind that, let's eat."

"Yeah. Where are Lulu and Kubharu?"

"Kubharu's asleep. Lulu's practicing her Sorcery."

"Lulu's really pushing herself too. Oh, sausages!"

They finished the simple meal quickly and went straight back to training.

Same as before, not a trace of laziness showed in any of them.

They worked their bodies until sweat soaked through their clothes, and eventually two more figures arrived at the grounds.

Zet Frost and the bald butler, Glen.

"Once you've loosened up, head to the conditioning room."

"Yes, sir."

All three nodded obediently at Zet's words.

From there, the routine never changed. Brutal physical conditioning that ran until noon.

Training under the crushing weight of the gravity magic circle was hellish, but once again, none of the three swordsmen showed the slightest reluctance to do what needed doing.

Ten days had passed since the start of their special instruction, but their passion hadn't dimmed one bit.

If anything, it was Zet Frost who had changed.

"Your form's slipping. You'll hurt your back like that!"

"I've got you, don't worry."

"Control your breathing. Yeah, that's it, good."

The Zet Frost who'd left his butler in charge on the first day and gone off for a nap was nowhere to be seen anymore.

Maybe it was old habits reasserting themselves.

His weary expression hadn't changed, but he supported Airen's group with a seriousness far beyond what he'd shown on day one.

Enough to startle even Glen, who had served him faithfully for thirty years.

That same dedication carried over into his swordsmanship instruction, too.

At 2 p.m., after the three swordsmen had recovered from their fatigue thanks to special nutritional meals and the magical recovery room, Zet Frost spoke.

"From today on, I'll tailor instruction to each of your styles. Airen first, Judith tomorrow, Brett the day after. Airen Farreira, come here. The rest of you, train freely."

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah. Hey, let's spar."

Judith and Brett nodded, stepped off to the side, and started sparring, leaving Airen alone.

To him, Zet Frost poured out his experience and knowledge without holding back.

"You're making good use of the strengths of a heavy blade. When you attack, you put enough pressure on your opponent that they don't dare try to block it outright. When you defend, you keep your center rock solid. Your technique for disrupting your opponent's timing and striking point deserves praise too."

"Thank you."

"But you're not without your flaws. You're too passive. It feels like you've convinced yourself you're slower than your opponent, and that's it, that's the whole story... which is probably why someone like Judith, who uses her footwork so well, could drag you around the whole fight if she wanted."

"But it's true that I'm slower than Judith, isn't it?"

"That's right. But being slow and heavy doesn't mean you always have to play defense."

Fwoosh!

The moment he finished speaking, a heavy pressure rolled off Zet Frost's body.

Airen instinctively dropped into a guard stance, and Zet, sword raised, stepped forward at an unhurried pace.

"You don't need to think about catching up to your opponent from the start."

Zet kept moving as he explained.

His steps weren't fast.

But there was something so solid, so weighty and stable about his advance, that Airen couldn't hold his ground against it at all.

All he could manage were light feints or backing away.

"Just keep expanding your own territory, the way a lord claims land. Keep occupying the ground that favors you and makes your opponent uncomfortable."

Clang!

Clang!

Zet Frost advanced. Airen retreated.

Sweat beaded on Airen's forehead as he kept giving ground.

He was clearly moving faster and more nimbly, and yet he felt like he was the one being pushed, the one being dragged along.

"You'll grow anxious if you keep running forever, and even if you try to use your speed to swing around his flank, it won't be as easy as you'd think. Once I've already claimed the ground, circling around costs you a lot more movement than it should."

"I see."

"Don't let your opponent yank you around. Advance steadily, claiming your own space as you go. Do that, and you can at least fight to a draw. Now, try doing the opposite of what I just showed you."

"Understood."

The instructional sparring that followed was even harder than the morning's physical conditioning, but Airen Farreira didn't complain.

Neither did Judith. Neither did Brett Lloyd.

All three wore pained expressions as they trained under Zet Frost, but their hearts couldn't have been happier.

They could feel it. That they were growing. That they were getting stronger, bit by bit.

'Good thing we made that bet.'

'Lucky, running into Zet Frost in Partisan...'

'Calling it luck doesn't even do it justice.'

Zet Frost.

He really was something else.

Their respect for the 101st ranked swordsman only grew with each passing day.

Of course, they weren't the only ones warming up to the other side.

Zet Frost, too, watching these young people follow his instruction without ever tiring, felt something well past simple admiration.

'...Calling them geniuses almost feels like an insult at this point.'

They weren't just talented juniors.

They carried a will that far outstripped even that talent, and they'd built up a kind of effort ordinary people couldn't even imagine.

He'd only known them ten days, but he could already tell.

They were geniuses, and on top of that, geniuses of effort.

'...I keep wanting to meddle.'

The lines on Zet Frost's forehead deepened.

What he'd done so far should already be enough.

He was already pouring in more than his fair share of care, and the three of them seemed satisfied with that much.

But their passion.

The fire in their hearts.

The way they kept pushing, endlessly, toward something higher, it kept needling at something inside Zet Frost.

'...Let me give it everything too.'

Twenty days had passed since he'd first felt spurred on by the sight of the three giving their all.

Zet Frost made up his mind.

Whether he even had the right to do this, he still wasn't sure. That uncertainty had held him back until now.

But he'd started to think that if he held something back, if he wrapped up his instruction at some comfortable, adequate level and parted ways with them like that, he'd regret it far more in the long run.

'Right. No more hesitating.'

It might come off as overstepping.

But that was fine.

If it meant a talented junior wouldn't repeat the mistakes he himself had made, he could stomach that kind of embarrassment easily enough.

Zet Frost nodded and called out to Judith, who was just finishing her training.

"Judith."

"Yes?"

"There's something I want to advise you on privately. Spare me some time."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Wash up and settle in first, take your time. I'll wait in my room."

"All right."

Judith followed his instructions without protest.

She was curious about what the advice might be, but there was also something slightly different in the air than usual.

That difference only sharpened her curiosity further.

Airen and Brett felt the same way.

Zet had offered plenty of pointers during training before, but he'd never once asked to speak with someone alone like this.

Not that either of them had any intention of eavesdropping.

The two shrugged it off, wrapped up their training, and had dinner with Glen the butler, who they'd grown fairly close to by now.

That was when the loud noise came.

"......!"

"Hmph."

A voice unmistakably Judith's.

Then the sound of a door slamming shut behind her.

Brett stood up, frowning, and Airen and Glen followed close behind.

They reached Zet Frost's room quickly, opened the door, and stepped inside.

"...Hm? What's wrong?"

Zet Frost's face looked perfectly composed, as if nothing had happened.

But Airen, a Sorcerer himself, could tell.

He could see the bitterness in Zet's eyes, the regret, and underneath it all, a deep well of remorse.

And it wasn't just Airen who noticed.

The butler who'd spent so many years at his master's side, and Brett, sharper than most when it came to reading people, both caught that something was off.

Brett spoke.

"Did something happen with Judith?"

"Ah, you heard the noise, huh? It was nothing. Just a joke that didn't land..."

"......"

"...No. It wasn't a joke. I said something that crossed a line, dressed up as instruction."

"No way. Judith probably just overreacted."

"That's not what happened."

Zet Frost answered.

The same lazy voice as always, the same weary expression.

But there was something faint underneath it this time too.

Brett asked again.

"I'm sorry to press, but could you tell me what you taught her?"

"I'd rather not."

Zet closed his eyes.

His whole manner said there was nothing left to discuss.

He hadn't outright told them to leave, but the meaning was the same.

The butler, who'd been quietly watching the situation unfold, started to step back, and Airen, reading the mood, moved to leave the room as well.

But Brett didn't.

He pulled something out of his coat, walked forward with purpose, and sat down across from Zet Frost.

Then he set the item down on the table with a sharp clack.

"Hall Master Hyram's pride and joy. Honey wine made from rock honey."

"......"

"Far rarer than honey from an ordinary hive. Even herb gatherers who spend every day combing the mountains have trouble getting their hands on rock honey."

"...How did you even get that?"

"I have my ways. So, are you drinking or not?"

"...Butler, bring some glasses."

Shaking his head, the bald butler brought the glasses.

He laid out four instead of two, then settled naturally into a seat himself, and Airen, still reading the room, joined them as well.

Glug, glug, glug. Four glasses filled up.

Zet stared at his glass with a faint look of embarrassment, and Brett said,

"Judith has a genuinely terrible personality."

"......"

"Worse than you'd imagine. Not just terrible, but stubborn too. She won't listen even when the Vice Hall Master scolds her, let alone the senior members of Krono, if she's convinced she's right. She's an absolute lunatic. A total garbage fire of a human being. A jellyfish drifting in the ocean probably has more brains than..."

An endless stream of insults poured out of Brett's mouth about Judith.

Left unchecked, it seemed like it might run clear through the night into morning without stopping.

Airen, the butler, even Zet Frost, who'd been holding himself so composed, all stared at the blue haired young man with baffled looks on their faces.

Once he had everyone's attention, Brett stopped cursing.

Then he picked up where he'd left off.

"You probably gave her some kind of advice that hurt her pride, didn't you?"

"...Something like that, yeah."

"If it were someone open minded and easygoing like me, sure, maybe. But stubborn as a mule Judith isn't going to listen to that kind of thing."

"......"

"But there's a way to make even someone that stubborn listen. I guarantee it, as the resident Judith expert. And that is..."

"That is?"

"I grow from that teaching first."

"......"

"Then she'll either explode from sheer frustration, or she'll claw her way through to understanding it herself before she lets that happen. She hates losing more than she hates dying."

Both Zet Frost and Glen the butler wore blank expressions.

But Airen was nodding along.

Brett was right. That was exactly the kind of person Judith was.

"So tell me. Wasn't it advice you gave her because you were worried about her, because you wanted her to do well?"

"......"

"I'll hear it first and make sure I actually absorb it. So..."

Would you tell me now?

Brett Lloyd's words carried real weight, and Zet Frost sat silent for a long moment.

The mood in the room grew heavy.

Everyone else had their heads slightly bowed, but Brett's gaze stayed fixed on Zet Frost.

Maybe he couldn't stand up to that look any longer.

With a sigh, Zet drank down the rock honey wine.

He set the glass down with a clack and lifted his head.

"Before I get into Judith, let me tell you a bit about myself first."

Everyone nodded at Zet Frost's words.

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