Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

Professor Blanc Cooper’s class on Growth and Reflection was one that all of my close friends attended together.

Blanc Cooper was a tall man with a well-built physique.

He wore a pristine white robe with no patterns at all, and the hem of his long garment, reaching down to his ankles like a woman’s skirt, shimmered softly. It was quite a sight. It was the first time I had seen such an outfit since arriving in Sieran.

I thought about asking the students around me what kind of clothing that was, but when I turned to the side, I saw Marianne’s upper body leaning forward, her lips curved in a subtle smile. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. It seemed like that outfit was to Marianne’s taste, as the man wearing it was quite handsome.

Thinking this, I turned the other way and quietly asked Ivan, “What kind of clothes is that?”

“That’s a priest’s robe. Those who have been verified as true believers of the gods always wear that outfit.”

It seemed similar to how high monks in Shaolin wear their robes. There was a reason why the outfit was unfamiliar to me—Ehrenhardt and Valentia both believed more in human strength than in divine power.

“Greetings, everyone. I am the First Apostle of the God, Blanc Cooper.”

The First Apostle of the God? Was there a first and second god? I sat there confused, and Blanc Cooper’s calm voice soon added an explanation.

“You all must have never heard of the name of the god before.”

There were nine gods in the mythology of this land.

The First God, the Second God… and so on. All of them were nameless. Some gods’ deeds even overlapped with those of other gods.

All the gods had come together to create this world.

However, the seventh and eighth gods were killed, and the fierce god known as the Ninth God fell into eternal sleep.

As a result, all priests in this land referred to themselves as the First Apostle of the God.

“In this class, we will begin each session with a simple prayer.”

This, too, was an unfamiliar thing to me. From a distance, one of the students raised their hand and asked, “What should we think about when we pray?”

“It would be good to think about what you most desire,” Blanc Cooper replied.

His voice was soothing, almost like a song—gentle, kind, and calm.

“Isn’t it the god who listens to stories that you can’t tell your friends or family? If you continuously reflect on what you wish for, you’ll be able to know the path you need to take.”

I followed his instructions, clasping my hands together and bowing my head. I closed my eyes. The answer to what I truly desired was already clear to me.

That everyone around me, and everyone in this land, may find peace and happiness.

Even though these words were merely thoughts in my mind, once I recalled the right things, I felt my mind and body at ease.

If I kept reflecting on this, I knew I could achieve it.

…Somehow, I could understand why Michael liked theological books.

“Your wishes will all come true. La Prila Et-Sa.”

The unfamiliar prayer at the end of his words seemed puzzling only to me. A few students followed along with the refrain. Ivan whispered to me that the refrain meant, “In the name of the god, all will be fulfilled.”

After the prayer, Blanc Cooper told us the story of the creation myth of the Nine Gods.

The Nine Gods had created the world together, and on the sixth day, they made humans, who were loved by three of the gods. These three gods fought among themselves, killing two of them… It was a familiar story, almost boring.

It was a story Michael liked, and Blanc Cooper’s voice was gentle and slow, which made it pleasant to listen to, so I listened without distraction.

Wednesday. Professor Calyps’s expression was quite sour when he saw me.

Given the various events I had gone through with him, I could understand why. But no class made the flow of this world as clear and easy for me as the Imperial Genealogy class.

Even Shayden, who had been reluctant to repeat the beginner and intermediate swordsmanship classes, never missed the Imperial Genealogy class, showing how important it was.

I briefly looked Calyps up and down. After confirming that he seemed healthy, I felt relieved. Well, it seems Walter has come to his senses too. I was glad.

“…Today, we will revisit the Kyadris Duchy. Recently, there has been some inaccurate information circulating regarding the engagement ceremony between the First Prince and Lady Hestia Yeldithus, which was supposed to take place this summer but was postponed.”

It was Calyps Agrizent’s job to ensure that the students of the academy didn’t get swayed by these false rumors. I quietly opened my notebook.

The current head of the Kyadris Duchy was Delphinia Kyadris. She had three husbands. Her first husband, the Duke, was a man from a baronial family. At the age of eighteen, he married Delphinia, who was twenty years old. Their first son, Wesley Kyadris, was born shortly after.

Delphinia was displeased with how her husband acted distant, so in the year after their marriage, she took a concubine. From her second concubine, she had her second son, Humbert Kyadris.

Because of this, the Duke and Duchess grew distant, and their relationship became strained for a long time. Eventually, she took a knight who was guarding her as her third concubine, and from that union, the problematic Poplar Kyadris was born.

The Duke was greatly saddened by this and shed tears, but after being comforted, Delphinia gave birth to her fourth son, Edwin Kyadris.

The Sieran Empire valued love and revered monogamy, so Delphinia Kyadris’s actions were heavily criticized.

However, her biological parents had died in a carriage accident when she was fifteen. Delphinia herself was a remarkable swordswoman, fitting the name “Sword Kyadris.”

Her temperament was harsh and violent, and with her exceptional martial prowess, no one dared criticize her behavior openly.

The First Prince, Richard Flo Sieran, was now twenty years old. Poplar Kyadris was nineteen, and Hestia Yeldithus, who was eighteen, was of a similar age.

“Currently, the rumors circulating about Poplar Kyadris’s personality flaws or appearance are all nonsense. Poplar Kyadris resembles Duchess Kyadris, with red hair and purple eyes, and has never shown his face in high society, so his personality remains unknown.”

The advice was clear: don’t listen to the rumors.

As always, Calyps Agrizent finished the class and sat down in the lower right corner of the blackboard, pulling a chair over. While I was idly watching him flip through a stack of papers, Shayden nudged my arm with his elbow.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Wesley Kyadris. I was wondering what his personality is like.”

“Huh?”

I drew a line in the margin of my notes and tried to gauge the sequence of events.

“Wesley reached the top rank of Sword Expert at the age of sixteen, then climbed the Yuil Mountain and became a Sword Master. By the time he turned twenty-one, he became a Grand Sword Master, and immediately after, he joined the Imperial Guard. Now he’s thirty.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then, Wesley must have joined the Imperial Guard when the First Prince was eleven years old.”

“…So what?”

“Why did he choose the First Prince and not Ruber?”

Instead of answering, Shayden looked down at my notes, where I had written both Wesley and Richard’s names. I hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“…There are so many rumors about the First Prince’s personality, but Wesley Kyadris, who’s a Grand Sword Master, hasn’t had any rumors spread about him… It’s strange.”

“Yeah… It is strange. Wesley’s not the emperor, so you’d think rumors about his personality would circulate. There’s no information at all about the people he’s close with either…”

Since coming to the academy, I had heard many stories about Wesley Kyadris. I had heard so much about his training, what sword techniques he practiced, and his achievements that I almost felt like I knew him personally.

But I had never heard anything about his personality.

Whether it was seniors or juniors, it seemed that no one close to him existed. He might have had frequent encounters with Mael Sanston, but even Sanston only said he was a man who wasn’t interested in anything other than swordsmanship.

After a while, Shayden shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know either. I guess he just picks people like you, who are so absorbed in swords.”

“…Maybe.”

If the First Prince was as cold-hearted as the rumors said, then the more endearing Ruber would have been more likely to win people’s favor. However, upon further thought, the First Prince would probably be easier to manage than the scheming Ruber, so if someone had ambitions, they might support the First Prince instead.

I pushed down the feeling of satisfaction that rose from my own growth, as I was starting to think about political matters like this.

In any case, it was likely that Edwin Kyadris would get caught in power struggles with his older brothers.

His father had left home early, and he only had two half-brothers who were both older than him. I felt sorry for the young one, imagining how much he must have been bullied by them.

In the evening, I took a walk by myself.

Since most of my days had been spent attending classes, it was my first time to walk around the campus during daylight after almost two years. I visited several training grounds, stopped by the library and cafeteria, and also briefly visited the familiar pond. It was nice to see it in the bright daylight, as it had a different charm from at night.

As the sunset began to tint the tips of my shoes, I met Wilton Roberts at the small training ground I was most familiar with.

Wilton was the first to check if my throwing skills with the throwing knives had rusted over the break. By now, I could throw them with a refined skill, drawing arcs or making specific patterns in the air. Wilton, recognizing the skill I had developed through consistent practice, nodded with satisfaction.

At this rate, if I reached a higher level of mastery, I might even be able to perform techniques like Hyeongongseopmul or Igieo-gum, and retrieve the throwing knives mid-air. My mind raced with all sorts of fantasies.

Wilton then declared that he would teach me how to finely control the small muscles in my body.

It was a meticulous lesson on how to move each joint of the fingers, without consciously thinking about using the hand, but instead having each segment of the fingers move either together or independently.

I was intrigued, thinking about how the skin just below the nail and the skin below the second joint of my fingers felt differently. It was a fresh perspective. I was in awe and admiration, and felt a deep respect for Wilton.