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Chapter 28

"…An ego sword."

Werner fell silent at Kizef's answer.

And a few seconds later—

"What?!"

A shrill, near-scream struck my ears.

"Th-that's… an ego sword…?"

Werner's mouth fell open as he looked between the sword and Kizef, then whipped his head around.

"Is this… real?"

"Well, strictly speaking, yes, it's an ego sword."

At Isid's indifferent reply, Werner's jaw dropped.

"You're using this just for sparring…? A sword of which fewer than thirty exist on the continent…?"

"…Werner's right. Using an ego sword for a simple spar is excessive. A practice iron sword would be more than enough."

"Just use it."

"But considering the value of an ego sword…"

It was Isid who stopped Kizef, who had become unusually verbose and quick in his protests.

"I made it, so just use it."

When Isid's mildly annoyed words fell, a crow seemed to fly overhead.

"…Pardon?"

At Kizef's dazed response, Isid sighed in irritation.

"Strictly speaking, it's an incomplete ego sword."

"Incomplete?"

"I made it solely for training. It doesn't need an excessive ego."

"What do you mean by 'for training'…?"

"Think of it as helping with aura control. It'll catch aura that would otherwise leak out unnecessarily."

"…Did you use it yourself?"

"Of course not. I made it to teach someone… but I had no talent with longswords, so I gave up."

Hearing Isid's brief explanation, I subtly averted my gaze.

'I mean, who would've guessed he had no talent specifically for longswords…'

After getting used to dagger techniques—which I'd learned alongside self-defense at Isid's suggestion—I'd grown interested in regular swords and nagged him a bit. He'd readily agreed, and a few days later brought that sword.

But the sword he'd made for me never saw use.

Unlike the dagger, where I'd developed decent skill, with a longsword… I'd be lucky not to hit someone when swinging it.

"Are you sure I can use this…"

"Ah, Brother!"

It was Werner who roared at Kizef, who was still hesitating even after Isid's explanation.

"You already threw away your dignity when you challenged him! So just use it!"

…Hmm, true, but hearing it from Werner makes it sound a bit different.

Kizef looked equally reluctant, but Werner remained unshaken.

"It's not like using it will wear it out. And you've been worried about your aura control lately, right? This is perfect!"

"…That's true, but—"

"Oh, some people can't get one even if they want one, and you're being picky. Huh?"

No one could match Werner when it came to needling Kizef.

But this time, I was on Werner's side.

"Right! Opportunities like this don't come often. And if you don't use it, that sword won't see the light of day for a long time anyway. Wouldn't it be better if you used it?"

"The youngest is right!"

With our repeated persuasion, Kizef's resolve visibly wavered.

"If you don't use it, the spar never happened."

And with Isid's final, effective blow—having understood my unspoken encouragement—Kizef finally grasped the sword properly.

…Wasn't that just Isid's word alone enough to make our persuasion unnecessary?

The thought crossed my mind briefly, but I chose to ignore it.

---

The spar between Kizef and Isid didn't take much longer than Werner's.

That was only natural, so I wasn't surprised. No matter how talented Kizef and Werner were, Isid was a dragon.

They seemed to know that too—there was no sense of defeat on their dust-covered faces. Rather, with flushed cheeks and undeniably shining eyes…

'…I think the plan backfired?'

Isid's idea—that it would be better to face them once than to keep being bothered—seemed to have missed the mark.

"Tomorrow too! Let's do it again tomorrow!"

As soon as Kizef's fifth spar with Isid ended, Werner rushed over with sparkling eyes, shouting.

Had he looked like that when Father gave him an ancient magic tome for his birthday?

One thing was certain: Isid's plan to get rid of the nuisance had failed.

"Why would I do that?"

"…Well!"

Werner's eyes darted around.

"Well…"

As he desperately racked his brain—looking rather cute—I couldn't help but smile. Then Werner's gaze fixed on me.

His face lit up as if a spotlight had turned on, and something about it…

'…Seems suspicious.'

Seeing my eyes narrow, Werner quickly turned his head away.

Then—

"Then Rowel would be happy too!"

He blurted out.

Having recovered somewhat during Kizef's extended spars, Werner's voice rang out loud and clear.

He looked at me with earnest eyes and asked, "Right?"

It was proof that my earlier thought—that his goal had shifted—was spot on.

If asked whether I disliked it, I didn't.

Partly because I knew how passionate Werner was about magic, and partly because it was just nice to see him so happy after so long.

And then, Kizef joined in.

In his arms, he carefully held the sword Isid had lent him.

"If you're willing, I'd also like to ask for your guidance tomorrow."

Kizef, who along with me acted as Werner's leash, had become an ally—and though I felt sorry for Isid, I had no intention of stopping them.

Because I wanted my family and Isid to get along.

'If this continues, won't they grow closer?'

The door to better relations was wide open—I couldn't close it, but I could at least not discourage it.

"…"

As I giggled, Isid, who had turned to look at me with an annoyed expression, raised an eyebrow.

"Ahaha…"

I subtly averted my gaze and played dumb, and a low sigh reached my ears.

I felt a sharp gaze on my involuntarily rising lips, but I stubbornly kept playing innocent.

And after a moment—

"…Once a week, then."

Isid, who always yielded to me, raised the white flag once again.

---

Isid ended up sparring with Kizef and Werner three times a week.

It started as once a week, but their persistence raised it to three—when they arrived laden with recovery potions, determined to make the most of their once-a-week opportunity, Isid for once looked genuinely exasperated before sighing and agreeing to three.

Not that my influence was entirely absent, but ultimately, it was the two of them who drew that reaction from Isid.

'Though I didn't expect Kizef to join in too.'

It just showed how valuable the experience of sparring with Isid was.

Indeed, since they started, Kizef and Werner had been making remarkable progress. The advice Isid casually dropped during matches was worth its weight in gold.

"Huff…"

I turned my gaze to see Kizef, who had just finished his third round, letting out a long breath and wiping away the torrent of sweat.

Beside him, Werner, in slightly better shape, was chattering away.

In contrast, Isid was—

"What?"

At his lazy question, I covered my mouth and laughed.

"Nothing, it's just funny. They each did three rounds, trading off, and you did six straight—yet you're the freshest one here."

Hearing that, one corner of Isid's mouth curved upward.

"As if I'd get tired fighting those little brats."

"Little brats…"

Well, from Isid's perspective, they were indeed little.

"…Still, you're taking good care of them, aren't you? You seemed to hate it at first."

It was already their fifth spar since the first one, which had started so recklessly.

In that time, Isid had been putting in genuine effort to guide Kizef and Werner. To others, he might still seem unfriendly—but to me, who knew him well, it was clear.

"Because you like them."

"…Really, just for me?"

"Why else would I bother with those brats?"

"Hmm, maybe you were impressed by their passion…"

As I said that, Isid's reluctant gaze made me laugh awkwardly.

"Ahaha… Ahem, you're really kind after all."

"…Sigh."

At my clumsy compliment, Isid sighed.

Just as I thought he'd let it slide, his gaze shifted behind me.

"You can come out now."

And he spoke.

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