The Puppet Villainess’s Splendid Rebellion - Chapter 35

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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 35

 

On the way to the training grounds, I stopped by the kitchen.

 

“Oh my, Princess. What brings you here at this hour?”

 

Mia greeted me with a puzzled expression.

 

“I came to get some snacks. Could you give me some fruit and water? A generous amount.”

 

“That’s not difficult at all. Just a moment.”

 

Mia moved busily. She selected several fresh apples and put them in a basket, then filled a water jug with cool water.

 

“Here you go, miss. But you’re not going to eat all this alone, are you? It’s quite a lot.”

 

“…Yeah, well.”

 

I answered vaguely and took the items.

 

They were heavy.

 

My arms trembled, but I endured it.

 

‘I can carry this much.’

 

I resented this thirteen-year-old body.

 

Before my regression, this weight would have been nothing.

 

The path to the training grounds felt long. I wanted to rest several times along the way, but my stubbornness kicked in and I persevered.

 

By the time I arrived at the training grounds, my arms ached.

 

‘…I really need to exercise.’

 

I thought I’d gained some muscle strength from ten days of hellish training, but clearly a few days of rest had returned me to square one.

 

I resolved to at least do some light jogging as I looked around the training grounds.

 

Demian stood in the middle of the wide training ground.

 

He was still swinging his sword.

 

‘If he’s been at it since morning, that’s already several hours.’

 

As I approached closer, his condition became visible.

 

His sweat-soaked hair was plastered messily to his forehead, and his shirt was thoroughly drenched. Fresh red blisters were clearly visible on his knuckles, formed over existing calluses.

 

‘…Brute force isn’t always the answer.’

 

I was confused whether I should be satisfied that he hadn’t been harsh only to me, or sigh at his lack of sense in driving himself like this.

 

Just then, Demian swung his sword again.

 

The blade cut through the air and a sharp whooshing sound rang out.

 

“…Damn it.”

 

A low curse escaped from Demian’s lips.

 

His hand gripping the sword was tense with force, his knuckles white.

 

Mindless swinging wouldn’t accomplish anything.

 

I deliberately made noise with my footsteps as I approached.

 

“Grand Duke.”

 

Demian paused and turned his head.

 

When he saw me, his brow furrowed.

 

“…What is it.”

 

“I thought you might be thirsty. I brought water.”

 

“…”

 

Demian looked me up and down.

 

He saw the basket and water jug in my hands, and his eyes filled with suspicion.

 

“Suddenly?”

 

“So what if it’s sudden. Are you going to take it or not?”

 

“…Why.”

 

“Why indeed. I heard you haven’t been eating properly for days, just training.”

 

“That’s unnecessary meddling.”

 

“Unnecessary or not, drink it first. It would be troublesome if you collapsed.”

 

I shrugged, repeating the exact words Demian had once said to me.

 

Demian, who had been looking at me as if I were bothersome, sighed and slowly approached me.

 

I watched as he took the water jug and gulped it down.

 

He must have been very thirsty, as he emptied more than half in one go.

 

‘Acting prickly when you were going to do this anyway.’

 

“…Thank you.”

 

“There’s fruit too.”

 

When I held out the basket, Demian awkwardly picked up an apple.

 

I also sat in the shade at the edge of the training ground and bit into an apple.

 

Crunch.

 

It was sweet.

 

A moment of silence passed.

 

Even while eating the apple, Demian kept glancing toward the holy sword.

 

His eyes were impatient.

 

The face of someone who wanted to quickly grab the sword again.

 

Someone agonizing over why it wasn’t working.

 

“Grand Duke.”

 

“…What.”

 

“Do you like that sword?”

 

At my sudden question, Demian’s eyebrows rose.

 

“…What did you say?”

 

“The sword. Do you use it because you like it, or because it’s a holy sword?”

 

Demian looked at me as if he had lost his words.

 

I took another bite of the apple, pretending nothing was wrong.

 

“Because it’s a holy sword.”

 

That was the answer that finally came back.

 

“Isn’t that obvious? It’s a holy sword.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“They say that communing with a holy sword makes your swordsmanship grow dramatically. It’s also said to be a shortcut to becoming a Sword Master. That’s why I use it.”

 

“I see.”

 

I looked at him while holding the apple in my hand.

 

“So you use it because it’s a holy sword, not because you like that sword?”

 

“….”

 

Demian’s mouth hardened.

 

His lips twitched as if he wanted to argue back, but it seemed no words would come out.

 

“You said the sword chose Your Grace.”

 

I continued slowly.

 

“But what about Your Grace? Did Your Grace choose that sword?”

 

“….”

 

“You only tried to be chosen, but you never actually chose it yourself, did you?”

 

Demian’s eyes wavered slightly.

 

He looked like he had realized something.

 

But he turned his head away as if he didn’t want to admit it.

 

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

I shrugged my shoulders.

 

I knew there was no point in saying more.

 

Even if he pretended not to care, he would be mulling it over in his head.

 

Because that’s the kind of person Demian was.

 

“I’m going to watch here starting today.”

 

“…Excuse me?”

 

“I have nothing to do and I’m bored. It’s stuffy being in my room all the time.”

 

“At the Training Grounds? There’s nothing to watch here.”

 

“There is. Your Grace.”

 

Demian’s face contorted with bewilderment.

 

“You’ll be in the way.”

 

“Can’t I even watch? I’ll just sit here. I won’t even talk to you.”

 

Demian let out a deep sigh.

 

He looked like he had given up.

 

“…Do as you please.”

 

Hmph, I was going to do that anyway.

 

* * *

 

From that day on, I went to the Training Grounds every day with snacks and water.

 

When Mia realized I was making daily attendance, she started packing snacks and water very generously.

 

I sat in the shade on one side of the Training Grounds and watched Demian swing his sword.

 

On the first day, Demian was uncomfortable.

 

I could see him constantly being conscious of me.

 

His movements became awkward and his concentration scattered.

 

Even while swinging his sword, he kept glancing at me.

 

“…Could you please not watch?”

 

“I’m not watching. I’m looking at the sky.”

 

“….”

 

He had an expression that said ‘what sky when you’re staring right at me,’ but he didn’t say anything more.

 

The second day was a little better.

 

He was still uncomfortable, but at least he concentrated.

 

During breaks, he accepted and drank the water I offered him.

 

“Here. Have some water before you continue.”

 

“…Thank you.”

 

He was still blunt, but he didn’t refuse.

 

The third day.

 

Demian no longer paid attention to me.

 

Or maybe my being there had become natural to him.

 

During break time, he naturally came and sat next to me.

 

He drank water and ate fruit.

 

There wasn’t much conversation, but we were together nonetheless.

 

Sometimes he would look at the fruit I brought and say things like “It’s pears today.”

 

It wasn’t much, but it was better than awkward silence.

 

I would also reply with things like “They ran out of apples.”

 

Such small conversations went back and forth.

 

Then on the fifteenth day.

 

Demian’s movements changed.

 

He didn’t swing desperately like before. Instead, he stood still for a long time holding his sword.

 

I could see him closing his eyes, steadying his breathing, and relaxing the strength in his hand holding the sword.

 

Was he mulling over what I had said? I hoped so.

 

Eventually, Demian slowly opened his eyes.

 

And he looked up at his sword.

 

It seemed like eyes that were truly looking at the sword for the first time.

 

Not as a tool.

 

Like looking at a companion to journey with.

 

Then he slowly raised his sword.

 

As if conversing with the blade.

 

‘…Is he starting to feel it?’

 

I held my breath and watched.

 

My heart was pounding.

 

Demian swung his sword.

 

Once.

 

It was a slow but precise movement.

 

It wasn’t a motion that pressed with force, but one that rode the flow.

 

It was completely different from a few days ago.

 

That was the moment.

 

-Whooom.

 

The sword sang.

 

It was so faint I doubted my eyes, yet unmistakably clear.

 

A thread-thin light swept across the silver blade.

 

Demian’s eyes widened as he stood frozen in place.

 

An expression of disbelief appeared on his face as he looked down at the sword.

 

“…Just now.”

 

His voice trembled. He stared blankly down at the sword, then turned his head to look at me.

 

Without realizing it, a smile spread across my lips.

 

‘It worked.’

 

This was the beginning.

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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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