I Raised the Villain's Daughter Too Well-Chapter 34: Didn’t Know! -

If there was one thing I found odd after being born into nobility in this world—something that set it apart from the nobles of Earth’s history—

It was their obsession with the sword.

In this world, all nobles learn swordsmanship.

When I really thought about it, it struck me as strange.

We aren’t in the middle of a war, nor do we have any sworn enemies, yet even the noble daughters, not just the men, treat swordsmanship as a required art.

Even if you can strengthen the body, this is still a world with magic. Why place such importance on the sword?

No, even without magic—why is the refinement of a technique meant to kill people treated with such desperate seriousness?

"Because the Empire was built by the sword."

"...Excuse me?"

That was how my father responded to my question.

"Virdem, if you think swordsmanship is just a way to wield a blade, you’d be mistaken. There was an Iron Age when all nobles relied solely on their personal martial strength to march off to war. Secret sword arts are the clearest testament to a house's lineage and legitimacy. You mustn’t see them as mere instruments to draw blood."

"...Ah, I see. Understood."

And for that reason, of course, the most popular course at the Academy was swordsmanship.

Naturally, the advanced swordsmanship course was overwhelmed with cadets vying to enter.

There was simply no way to stop it.

When the Academy labels a course as "advanced," it’s basically saying—don’t even try if you’re average.

No other course gets words like "basic" or "low-level" tacked on.

There’s Magic Studies and Advanced Magic Studies. Hieroglyph Decoding and Advanced Hieroglyph Decoding. That’s how they divide them.

It’s an unspoken rule.

If you didn’t learn hieroglyph decoding as your family’s secret technique—

Know your place and don’t even think about taking Advanced Hieroglyph Decoding.

No family secret technique? You’ll be shunned.

But Advanced Swordsmanship is different.

Noble families who’ve been merchants for generations—

Nobles who’ve done nothing but dig in mines for centuries—

All of them possess secret sword arts for the very reason my father spoke of.

And if the Academy tries to screen them ahead of time—

They’ll just get complaints like, "Are you ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) saying my family’s secret sword technique isn’t good enough for advanced-level training?"

What are you supposed to say to that?

So—

"Again?! THIS MANY SHOWED UP AGAIN?!"

"......"

The professor yelled at the top of her lungs, staring at the lecture hall crammed to bursting, with not even a toe’s worth of space left.

Because of the unique nature of swordsmanship courses, the professors suffer more than any others.

They have to conduct the class without modifying each cadet’s secret technique, meaning they must understand, memorize, and expand over a hundred families’ styles every year.

"Seriously, keep it within reason!! If I knew it’d be like this, I wouldn’t have slayed that dragon—ugh..."

Even as she stood there, looking on the verge of tears, the professor stared out at the cadets with a wrecked expression.

She had been chosen because she was capable of doing this.

Definitely not an ordinary person.

"She really is the Dragonslayer... Magrania Soekrel..."

"To think we get to learn from someone like her..."

She didn’t look like a professor at all—with her bubbly, long, pink hair.

One of the last two surviving dragonslayers—this one, a woman.

They say she swung her sword through fire without rest for a whole week to slay a dragon the size of a castle, a feat confirmed through cross-verification. A monster of a knight.

The cadets, hearing Soekrel’s pained cries with one ear and letting it out the other, now seemed more fired up than ever.

To be taught swordsmanship by Soekrel? That alone made the Academy worth attending, they seemed to believe.

After a long round of wailing, Soekrel either calmed down or gave up, and declared in a dragging voice:

"Haaah... Anyway, you’ve heard from your seniors about the exam, right? I can’t teach more than a hundred people. I’ll only be teaching thirty. Just thirty."

"I have a question."

A cadet raised their hand at Soekrel’s glum pronouncement.

"What is it?"

"Would it be permissible to enter alone, forfeiting the three-person team requirement?"

A voice both clear and firm.

It was Senfenesia Olvesia.

Of course she’d chosen the Advanced Swordsmanship course.

But Soekrel shook her head.

"Nope."

"May I ask why?"

"Because then it’d be way too easy to pick the thirty."

"...?"

"Senfenesia, Paltis, Seriratus... they’d just pick the strongest houses in order. You think I’m crazy? To teach nothing but elites?? I need a break too! I’m going with ten who can take intense training, and twenty I can teach at a decent pace. Anyone got a problem with that? Speak now!"

No one spoke.

The ten elites believed they’d get in no matter the conditions.

The rest already knew they had no chance of making it in by skill alone. If luck carried them in, that was good enough.

Once the room fell quiet, Soekrel asked meekly:

"...Uh, could someone maybe object? Say something like, 'I refuse to learn from a professor who doesn’t even understand the subject,’ and threaten to report me to their parents so I get fired? Please?"

No answer came.

Soekrel, eyes brimming with tears, pulled out a heavy steel box from under the desk.

"Fiiiiiine!! All houses I call, step forward! Senfenesia, Paltis, Seriratus..."

Among those named, of course, was Firnea.

Firnea grumbled as she stepped forward.

"Why am I going out there when I haven’t even learned my family’s secret sword art?"

"Seems she’s picking by house name rather than actual skill."

It amounts to the same thing. Great houses own great sword arts.

Firnea... truly hadn’t learned the Seriratus family style.

But did it matter?

Even in a direct sword fight, her opponent would probably slip and fall on their own and lose disgracefully.

Unless they were top-tier swordsmen, they’d think it was their own mistake.

Even if they were, they’d only realize it after losing.

"You’re the eldest daughter of the Paltis Family, right? First time seeing you since last year."

"Ah, Olvesia. Hello."

The thirty nobles who had been called didn’t speak to each other. They stared straight ahead.

Even if they were close, they were now competitors, fighting for one of the few slots in the Advanced Swordsmanship course.

And twenty of them would absolutely be eliminated.

You could practically feel the burning will not to lose.

Except for the daughters of Paltis and Senfenesia, it seemed none of them were acquainted.

Soekrel brought the box before the nobles.

"Inside here are balls marked with the names of all applicants. Everyone, draw one."

"I may go first, yes?"

Firnea stepped forward without hesitation.

Clunk.

At the same time, someone else also stepped forward.

Olvesia looked down at Firnea with her icy gaze. Tall as she was, the pressure was intense.

But Firnea didn’t back down. She stomped down on Olvesia’s steel-plated boot.

"Move your foot."

"Do not presume to decide the order on your own."

"Hmm. Lacking in etiquette, are we? Do you really think order matters?"

"It does not. But nobles are meant to assign meaning to that which is meaningless. That’s how we conduct ourselves."

Before this dangerously sharp comment could go further, another noble stepped in front of them.

"I suggest you remove that filthy foot right this instant, sawayo. Do you even know who you’re standing before...!"

It was Lariel, her expression twisted in a grimace.

...What?

Why is she even here?

...Oh, right. Prejeum.

I’d sort of brushed her off, but there’s no denying it—that’s an incredible house. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Olvesia shot an equally frosty glance at Lariel.

“In that short time, you’ve already trained a cute little puppy. Truly fitting of House Seriratus. I’m looking forward to this.”

“P-Puppy?? Have you lost your mind?!”

Fuming, Lariel took a step forward, but Firnea let out a sigh.

“Fine. Whatever. You pick first.”

Firnea didn’t care about the order anyway.

She could already distinguish the color of the balls inside the box.

Her magic might be classified as telekinesis, but she’d long surpassed that domain.

Whoever picked first didn’t matter—if she wanted to control the outcome, it was already well within her power—

“Enough! I’ll just hand them out! Don’t fight over this stupid stuff!”

“Huh?”

Soekrel abruptly reached into the box and began throwing out the balls, two at a time.

Her movements were so sudden and fast, no one could react.

...This wasn’t good.

Firnea caught her assigned ball and checked it, but her face darkened—my name must not have been on it.

Now things were going to get annoying.

It suddenly mattered a great deal who had drawn my name.

“Starting from the right, say who’s in your team! Once you're called, step out and start planning.”

At least if it was Lariel—

“Lapel and... Vafrina, it says.”

Never mind.

Firnea sighed and muttered under her breath.

“Leah, Psyche.”

“...”

The entire hall stirred.

“L-Leah? As in the younger sister of the Hero...?”

“And Psyche too? That’s the Gale Sword Family.”

“Isn’t her luck way too good...?”

Leah, left over because the eldest daughter of the Paltis Family had been called, should’ve been one of the most sought-after candidates.

And yet she ended up grouped with House Seriratus.

And also with the Gale Sword Family.

Firnea really was overwhelming, even in sheer luck—forming the strongest team, hands down.

I watched as Leah approached Firnea hesitantly, while the other cadet stood confidently beside them.

“H-Hi, hello, nice to meet you?”

“...”

“...”

Leah nervously tried to greet them, but both Firnea and Psyche ignored her.

Firnea was lost in thought, and Psyche just... didn’t care.

“Waaaah...”

Leah looked like she might burst into tears as she turned to me, her eyes pleading for rescue.

That was beyond my ability.

I was also growing anxious, waiting for my name to be called.

At the very least, if it were Olvesia—

“Kain, Lapenia.”

Well, that’s not great.

The remaining houses were from the lower tiers.

Their swordsmanship probably wasn’t anything to write home about either.

...Looks like I’m in for a rough ride.

I sighed and kept waiting—but my name was never called.

“?”

“Alright, everyone has their team now, right?”

“No, my butler hasn’t been called yet.”

“What? Who’s missing?”

Firnea spoke up quickly, and Soekrel tilted her head in confusion.

Then—

From the corner came a voice so quiet it could’ve been a mosquito’s whisper.

“V-Virdem.”

It was a familiar voice.

I gritted my teeth and looked toward the source.

A noble young lady stood there, trembling.

“...Arin.”

...

Truly, a persistent fate. That’s the only way I can explain it.

I exhaled briefly, walked forward, and held out my hand first.

“Let’s work well together.”

“...T-Tch.”

“Lady Emily.”

Her eyes filled with despair.