The Villainess's Exclusive Maid Is Too Good at Her Job - Chapter 70

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 70

“….”
“….”
“….”
The three figures stood motionless, exchanging glances in silence. Once they confirmed the alley was empty, the one they called “Mom” spoke first.
“Go.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Mom” had already turned away before they could answer, squeezing her body through a narrow gap between the buildings. It was a side path so cramped that only one person could barely pass through at a time.
Luna and “Dad” waited their turn, then followed “Mom” one by one, pushing themselves into the narrow passage.
Moments later.
A tall shadow appeared in the now-empty alley. It was Kendrick, his upper body concealed beneath a half-length robe.
He narrowed his eyes as he studied the side path the three had taken.
‘They couldn’t have noticed I was following them, could they?’
There were no obvious signs of it.
If they had detected him, the three would have continued their charade as a happy family even after reaching this alley.
Kendrick silently clicked his tongue as he gauged the width of the narrow gap.
Tilting his body at an angle, he moved sideways through the cramped passage like a crab.
But then.
“…What?”
Silence is the virtue of a tail, yet he could not help but make a sound.
The end of the narrow side path was blocked by a wall.
The barrier was too high to vault over.
‘Where on earth did they go?’
He hadn’t seen them come back out, and during his passage through this cramped corridor, he’d found no suspicious-looking spaces or hidden passages.
In other words, the three had vanished like vapor.
As Kendrick searched the surroundings for clues to the mystery, his eyes caught something dark scattered across the ground.
‘That is….’
In that instant, he held his breath.
Slowly bending at the waist, he touched the black ash-like substance with his fingers, rubbed it gently to examine it, and even brought it to his nose to smell.
A faint sulfur scent wafted up.
It wasn’t strong, but when he released his held breath and inhaled deeply, the aroma was unmistakably present.
Theo stood motionless in place, his breathing growing shallow.
Black ash with a faint sulfur smell.
This was something he had grown wearily familiar with.
‘Traces of magic.’
Moreover, it was the residue of magic used by the battle mages of the Hyperion Magic Kingdom.
#Chapter. The Fake Sibling

“Today, we’ll conduct practical sparring for first-year students. You must naturally use wooden swords, and be mindful—very mindful—that safety is not compromised.”
“Yes, sir!”
The students responded with vigor to Daemond, the swordsmanship professor.
However.
“But since today is practical sparring, you must fight with all your strength. Do you understand what that means?”
“We must… do our best?”
“Correct. That’s the right answer. You’re free to use techniques beyond the basic swordplay you’ve learned so far.”
“But wouldn’t that deviate from the virtues of chivalry?”
At someone’s question, Daemond burst into laughter.
“You’re all mistaken about something. What you’re learning is ‘swordplay.’ You’re learning how to wield a blade, not how to become a knight.”
The professor drew the longsword at his waist, sheath and all, and drove it into the ground with a sharp thud.
He leaned his body against the longsword embedded in the floor—an act no true knight would ever commit.
“I was originally born a knight. But I went to countless wars and fought with my life on the line. As a result, I walked the path of a swordsman rather than a knight.”
“What is the difference between the two?”
“Simple. Whether or not you received a knighthood.”
“I’m sorry… what does that mean?”
At the students’ murmurs of discontent, he chuckled heartily.
“A knight wields their blade to protect their lord and the honor of knighthood. A swordsman, on the other hand, wields their blade to survive, according to their own will.”
In sparring between knights, perhaps such distinctions mattered, but in truly dire situations where life and death hung in the balance, textbook swordplay was unnecessary.
To survive, one sometimes had to cast aside the sword, seize a stone, and strike down the opponent.
One might bite at an exposed vital point with one’s teeth, thrash about shamefully, and flee for one’s life.
In the war against the Hyperion Magic Kingdom, we rolled through muddy trenches without dignity, again and again, to evade the magical attacks pouring down from the sky.
It was nothing more than an effort to preserve today’s life.
Moreover, those who participated in the war were not only knights.
Street thugs who worked in the alleys.
Mercenaries who moved for coin.
Ordinary people who stepped forward bravely to protect their families.
Even young orphans who were brought in as if sold into service.
All of them grasped their blades and marched onto the battlefield. Countless lives fell each day, yet they wielded their swords with valor.
Having witnessed swordsmen—not knights—on a battlefield where life and death intertwined, he abandoned his knighthood after the war ended.
So many had risked their lives on the front lines, yet they received no proper respect simply because they were not knights. He had grown weary of this reality.
He returned the title he had received upon his knighthood and joined a Mercenary Company.
He had no need for hollow honor; he only desired to become a true swordsman.
In the end, less than half a year after beginning his mercenary work, he was drawn by the Emperor’s command to become a professor here.
“Chivalry is important, certainly. But I wish for you to learn the swordplay of survival. That will surely help you one day.”
War should never happen again, but had the Empire not grown its body through countless wars across generations?
For that reason, it had many enemies among neighboring nations. Each had experienced conflict with the Empire at least once or twice.
So it was not strange if someone attacked again at any moment.
That is why we must prepare.
When disaster struck, all I could hope for was that my students would survive even one more day.
“First, Group 1 will spar among themselves, and Group 2 will do the same. Then we’ll select the victors and have Group 1 face off against Group 2. You’re all free to choose your own sparring partners!”
Following David’s instructions, the students began selecting their opponents.
Luna approached Janet, who was wiping her wooden sword with cloth while surveying the area.
“Janet, you haven’t found a sparring partner yet, have you?”
“No, not yet.”
“Perfect! Let’s spar together! I’ll go add both our names to the list right now!”
“Wait, Lu—”
Before Janet could even respond, Luna bounded off toward the roster to register their names.
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter.’
Since I hadn’t made any prior arrangements with anyone else, sparring with Luna was perfectly fine.
What did concern me, though…
‘What’s wrong with Theo?’
Ever since the last day off, Theo had been acting like someone whose mind was elsewhere entirely.
Today’s practical sparring session was no exception—he’d excused himself due to his physical condition and was now sitting alone in a secluded spot, staring blankly into space.
‘Even when I asked what was wrong, he just said it was nothing.’
Of course, I didn’t press further.
Even between friends, I believed it was disrespectful to pry too deeply into someone else’s affairs.
The moment I turned my gaze away from Theo.
“Alright, gather around! We’re beginning the first-year practical sparring!”
At David’s announcement, the students let out a resounding cheer.

***

The second and third-year students watched the first-year practical duels with keen interest.
“Hey, who do you think will win in that third match over there?”
“I’d say the one on the right?”
“No way, it’s obviously the left!”
Some of them even placed small wagers on the outcomes of their juniors’ matches.
Practical duels were fundamentally different from ordinary sword training.
The raw, unfiltered nature of actual combat made them far more captivating than conventional drills.
Of course, given the heightened danger compared to standard sword training, wooden swords were mandatory for all matches.
“First match concluded.”
“Third match concluded.”
Winners and losers were being decided rapidly across the arena.
Generally, victory in a first-year practical duel hinged on who hesitated less.
‘Is it really acceptable to fight like this?’
—the moment such doubt crept in, defeat was all but assured.
As the previous match ended, the next pair of competitors stepped into the arena.
“Hm? Look over there.”
“Oh. A clash of the first-year beauties.”
“I wonder who’ll win?”
“Probably Janet, wouldn’t you say? She’s taller.”
“True enough—weight class matters a lot in women’s fights.”
At the murmurs reaching her ears, Janet’s brow furrowed.
The phrase “clash of the first-year beauties” particularly grated on her.
Both Janet and Luna had come here solely to learn swordsmanship.
Their resolve was no different from that of the male students. Yet simply because they were women, they were being called “beauties.”
She was well aware this carried an undertone of subtle contempt.
The remark about weight class mattering in women’s fights was no exception.
It reduced everything to raw strength, as though individual skill and ability were irrelevant.
A sharp exhale escaped her.
Janet adjusted her grip on the wooden sword, irritation flickering across her features.
“Luna.”
“Yes, Janet!”
“Let’s fight with everything we have.”
Luna responded to Janet’s words with a slightly bewildered tone.
“…Huh? Y-yes!”

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