The Peaceful Life Of A Maid Who Hides Her Power And Enjoys It - Chapter 127

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 127

I couldn’t give any answer.

Unlike when I had firmly told Deshero to “stop being unreasonable,” I couldn’t easily give a negative response in front of the Swordmaster.

Because I knew he wasn’t someone who would make assertions without any evidence.

“You’ve made progress.”

The Swordmaster’s appearance as he quietly murmured and examined my energy seemed as detached as Lu’s.

“I no longer hear that terrible resonance. Is it from your personal experience that you neither abandon it nor try to dominate it? You would be the first to overcome two barriers as a Black Knight, Count Andert.”

“…I am not Andert, but Andert’s sister.”

“I wonder if you know that you make a listless expression every time you give such half-hearted excuses.”

I had just made a casual excuse because I didn’t want my identity discovered. It seems I was quite obvious.

“Did you make such a vow with Jin just to ask me if I was Andert?”

“That’s right.”

That affirmation also meant he was confident I would follow Jin’s trail.

‘Sigh.’

Shouldn’t it be normal for people not to recognize someone when a man changes into a woman?

Why does everyone easily figure out my identity? And of all people, even a man named Jigharke Berkleighton.

The Swordmaster is my long-time mentor.

Regardless of the fact that he had been watching the Weatherwax family for years and sending assassins, I owed him a debt.

Though the Swordmaster and I never formed a master-disciple relationship, the learning I gained from him became a great guide for me to walk through the hell called the Mage War. It wouldn’t be proper to keep pretending not to know such a person until the end.

I straightened my posture and bowed my head toward the Swordmaster.

“It’s been a long time, Your Grace.”

When no response came and I glanced up, I saw the Swordmaster’s face wearing a faint smile.

“Won’t you call me brother anymore?”

“What? Don’t joke around. When did I ever call Your Grace by such an shameless title?”

“You often did when you had alcohol in you.”

Thanks to that, an embarrassing past came to mind.

“I don’t remember, so please forget it too, Your Grace.”

“Forget? Certainly with that appearance, ‘dear brother’ would suit you better than ‘brother.'”

For someone old enough to know better to make such jokes! …Though the target isn’t quite appropriate for that.

Despite being middle-aged, the Swordmaster looked like he was in his late twenties, defying time, and was strictly unmarried.

And how old could he be anyway? He wouldn’t even be half of Lu’s age.

“I didn’t expect Count Bladief to reappear under the name Weatherwax Baroness.”

“It’s a title that doesn’t really feel like mine. Bladief – even the name feels awkward.”

“Well, you were someone who had no attachment to wealth and power. That’s why I coveted you more as my successor. How regrettably I’m losing you like this.”

Successor.

“Once the war ends, would you consider officially becoming my disciple? You could surpass Raphael Jenail.”

Well, the Swordmaster did say such things occasionally.

But when it comes to Berkleighton’s successor, a slightly different face comes to my mind.

‘Andert…’

A question I couldn’t help but have while facing the Swordmaster.

Was it purely by chance that Andert became the successor of the Berkleighton family?

The Swordmaster chuckled softly and threw a sharp question as if he had peered into my mind.

“Do you want to ask about Garrosh?”

“…Did you know that Garrosh was my younger brother?”

“Well.”

The Swordmaster suddenly pulled out an old pocket watch from his pocket and checked the time.

“We have exactly 5 minutes left. Let’s exchange exactly three questions each. How about it?”

5 minutes? He came all the way to the Peace Garden to confirm my identity when he’s busy enough to only have that much time? That was very much like him.

“Fine. Then let’s count the question I just asked as the first question.”

“I didn’t know at first, but I took him as a disciple because I found it strange. The detailed habits of using a sword were exactly the same. If you were truly blood relatives, I thought you would naturally be drawn to Garrosh and come to me. And that’s exactly what happened.”

“…Does that mean you were confident I was alive?”

“Yes.”

He was confident?

‘How?’

Was it simply because of his faith in my existence?

While my mind was clouded with confusion, the Swordmaster crossed his arms and spoke in a relaxed voice.

“That makes two questions finished.”

…Wait, two questions?

“How was that just now two? It was merely a subsidiary question at best!”

“Whether subsidiary or not, a question is a question. You have exactly one chance left, so think carefully and use it well.”

They say people become cunning as they age, and that was exactly describing the Swordmaster. I’ll grant that he’s become slightly softer compared to before. But what’s the use if he’s become twice as fox-like?

Damn.

‘The last question.’

Should I ask what grounds he had for being confident I was alive?

‘That’s certainly something I need to know. But…’

Shouldn’t I ask about Dian Ket’s final legacy? It’s a clear fact that he’s been searching for the legacy for a long time.

‘That’s definitely more important. It’s directly connected to my life. But I already promised to get help from Raphael regarding Dian Ket’s final legacy.’

…Actually, regardless of those two issues, only one name kept coming to mind.

“Do you know what Natasha’s purpose is?”

“You seem to know about 【Berid Ret】. Yes, I know.”

As I thought. The Swordmaster nodded lightly and continued.

“You’d want to meet her. But even I don’t easily get to see Princess Natasha’s face. She’s completely absorbed in her life’s greatest purpose, and she’s being swept away by it, dedicating what remains of her life to it. Even if you happen to encounter her, the princess you remember won’t remain. …Do you trust Princess Natasha?”

“Yes.”

The Swordmaster stared intently at my face as I answered without hesitation.

I don’t know what he was thinking, but my affirmation didn’t have any profound meaning.

I haven’t reunited with Natasha yet. For me, Natasha is the Natasha from four years ago, and I trust that version of Natasha.

The Swordmaster, who had closed his eyes deeply as if in deep thought, slowly parted his lips.

“I’ll be honest. I’m still not certain whether having you meet Princess Natasha would be beneficial or harmful.”

“What aspect are you referring to?”

“You won’t get anything by asking so slyly like that.”

“Is that so? Don’t forget that Your Grace also threw me the first question of ‘Do you trust Natasha?'”

“Good grief… you’ve only learned the bad habits.”

Now it was the Swordmaster’s turn to ask questions. He posed his second question without a moment’s hesitation.

“I’m a bit confused right now. Were you originally a woman?”

I thought it was a rather unusual question.

If it had been someone else, like Deshero, they would have thought the ‘female’ body I’m currently using was fake.

‘This man said he was confident I was alive.’

So does he think this body is real? There are still many confusing aspects.

“Yes.”

“I see… Then the existence called ‘Andert’ was a character created based on Garrosh.”

“You figured that out well. We don’t even have particularly similar faces.”

“Not similar? You have the same miscellaneous habits of using a sword, and even dietary habits like allergies are identical, yet you say you’re not similar? Don’t talk nonsense.”

Nonsense, he says. He’s the only one who connected Garrosh’s characteristics to me.

“What is your real name?”

“Should I count that as your last question?”

“No, never mind. I don’t seem to have gained much, yet it’s already the last question.”

“You should have been more generous from the start.”

Just as I had, I thought the Swordmaster would be somewhat careful with his last question. Regardless of the process, he seemed to have many curiosities about me now.

But the Swordmaster, just as he had with his second question, threw his last question without hesitation.

“By any chance, has there been a major problem with your life or lifespan?”

But to think he would ask such a direct question.

‘Does he also know that I’m searching for Dian Ket’s legacy?’

I couldn’t immediately affirm and hesitated for a moment.

The other party is the Sword Saint.

Someone who collects Dian Ket’s legacy, is connected to resurrection experiments, and has a high probability of standing in opposition to Raphael.

Should I really reveal my condition to such a person?

“I already know the answer. But why are you hesitating in front of me?”

Ah, he knows.

“I was just thinking for a moment.”

But how does he know?

The Sword Saint looked into my eyes with a coldly hardened face.

“Do you consider me an enemy?”

“….”

“How strange. How could you, who aren’t even a demon, become my enemy? Ah, that wasn’t a question but a soliloquy, so don’t answer. Whatever the reason, if you want to be cautious in front of me, you’d better straighten your posture.”

I was trying to understand what meaning his mention of posture implied.

Suddenly, a thick autumn jacket was extended toward me. It was the garment the Sword Saint had been wearing.

When I didn’t immediately take it and made a puzzled expression, his cold eyes briefly lingered on one of my shoulders.

‘Ah.’

Without a cardigan, my shoulder was fully exposed, showing an ugly scar.

A mark extending from my shoulder to the inside of my armpit. It was a particularly bumpy and rough-looking mark from being stitched with more than ten sutures.

Was this jacket meant to cover the wound, or to cover a woman’s shoulder?

The light question was quickly resolved. Even after putting the Sword Saint’s jacket over my shoulders, his heavily sunken gaze couldn’t leave the area around my shoulder.

“…Do you remember?”

He let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“How could I forget? The sight of you cutting down demons with your tattered arm is still vivid before my eyes. Though it’s been nearly 10 years already.”

“….”

“I knew you were alive, but… I never dreamed you were suffering in such a state. It’s my fault. I have nothing to say but an apology.”

“I don’t understand. Why would that be Your Grace’s fault?”

The Sword Saint’s words sounded like an incomplete puzzle with important pieces missing. To be certain of my life and death, and even blame himself for it….

Could it be.

“Your Grace. Could the person who fed me the heart crystal be you….”

“I will take responsibility.”

“…what?”

Take responsibility? For what?

“Your name has been frequently mentioned among the nobles lately. That’s good. If you choose me, there won’t be much troublesome business.”

So what exactly? A mentor? Are you asking me to choose you as a mentor right now?

The Sword Saint stood up from his seat before I could even speak.

“It’s time. We’ll discuss the details separately at the hunting festival. Please take good care of Jin.”

After checking his pocket watch once more, he slightly bent his waist to more thoroughly cover my shoulder with the jacket, then left the National Peace Institute without lingering.

Leaving Jin, who had fallen into deep sleep, and me completely alone.

…So what exactly am I supposed to choose? It’s not what I’m thinking, right?

Right?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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