In the Exiled Mansion
Two hours passed. Inside his room, Seven finished his usual morning routine: swinging an invisible sword and consuming the pills stored in his subspace.
It was his personal training in order to improve his complexion that will allow him to wield the sword properly.
Haah…
He let out a slow breath as he stopped his own personal training.
'I'm not all bones now, I suppose…'
Step.
Turning around, he sat on the chair before his desk.
He opened the drawer and those same magic-scribbled brown parchments were still there.
By now, he had a theory:
"Magic…"=
It was perhaps, the original Seven Hart, tried to study Zaen magic circles and formations thinking it would compensate for everything his body lacked.
It was laughable for someone from a swordsman lineage to study magic.
"It makes sense…"
After all, with a frail and what seemed to be a talentless body, even a scoundrel of Hart's bloodline, following the sword would have only broken him further.
He looked at the untouched cup and tray resting nearby.
'If he knew Iria was the root of his bad health…"
Iria.
He considered various ways to extract the truth from Iria. Dozens of ways.
He was curious for the reasons as to why someone who had served the original Seven loyally for years would be the cause of his own ruin.
But if she wanted him dead, she could have done it long before he ever transmigrated in this body.
She did not.
Which meant she had her reasons.
Step.
He paced the room and opened the window for a breath of fresh air.
But the seven gods of this world or whatsoever these sevenfold deities the world had that controlled the fate, a carriage covered with snow arrived by the gate.
Moments later, two figures stepped out.
Zack and Zach.
"...Fudge."
He ran a hand through his hair.
'What now?!'
He cursed internally.
***
In the Living Room
Coming out from the kitchen, Iria stepped out with a tray of rice and a bowl of what looked like tofu.
Step.
She climbed the stairs with brisk footsteps careful not to spill anything, yet she nearly collided with someone coming down.
"Young Lord?!"
She gasped.
"Ah. The breakfast is—"
"Leave it in my room. I'll greet my shitty twin brothers."
"P-Pardon ?"
Iria asked.
But upon following his gaze, she caught sight of the carriage outside.
"…Ah. Should I prepare another two, Young Lord?"
"Don't bother."
"Understood."
Without another word, she continued up the stairs.
Step.
Seven made his way to the front door.
Outside, by the gate, the mansion's two knights stood firm as they denied entry to the twin visitors who had no token of the Archduke's approval.
That was proper. But…
"Let them in."
Seven said in a calm voice from the doorway.
The knights hesitated.
He walked toward the gate with unhurried steps as if the very concept of urgency when welcoming visitors did not apply to him.
It was not out of arrogance, but because he already knew why they were here.
'Word of the Archduke's absence must've spread through the Duchy already, which means the twins are here without permission.'
Nonetheless, he still walked towards them.
Step.
He stopped just before them and looked at the other two knights guarding the carriage— the twin's knights.
"Just the twins."
"...?"
"...?"
The twin's knights flinched as they looked at each other before nodding.
After all, their young masters were far stronger than Seven. Even if a sibling quarrel broke out inside the exiled mansion, there was no such thing that would threaten the twin's life.
Zack scratched his neck as he jabbed a thumb toward the knights.
"Shut the damn up. Who educated your knights for them to stand—"
"My, apologies for that, youngest. Would you mind guiding us inside now?"
Zach asked Seven in the most polite way possible, though he did not really mean it as evident from the way his lips twitched.
Right after, he turned towards Zack and whispered,
"Don't speak a word from—"
"Huh?! You damn… dare order me?"
They argued a little more about pointless arguments as each of them brought up a new topic to argue.
Seven only watched them with a frown.
Couple of minutes passed, the twins stopped arguing and Zach, who seemed to be the one who won between them, looked at Seven.
"My, apologies again, youngest. Now, would you—"
"No."
Seven refused Zach outright before looking at his two knights guarding the gate, standing before the twin's knights.
"No one enters the mansion while I'm outside."
"As you command, Young Lord."
Zack, as usual, looked ready to complain, but Zach quickly covered his mouth which resulted in another fight breaking out between them.
Hff…
Seven took a deep breath and walked towards the training ground.
Though he had already completed his daily routine personal training, practicing with a wooden sword instead of an non-existent one still feels different.
Step. Step.
Right after he arrived, he took a wooden sword from the rack and positioned himself in the middle of the training ground.
Snow flakes were still falling, but there was a clearing in the middle as his two knights were also clearing this ground for them to train occasionally, for them not to lose their sword mastery just by standing still and guarding the gate.
He closed his eyes.
Firmly, he gripped the wooden sword as tight as he could and tried to recall his memories as Seojin. It was his first time holding one after that experience with Eden.
"The first strike becomes the foundation…"
He mumbled.
"Everything builds on it."
He knew the importance of the first step. In fantasy-action stories, the masters would always preach the same lesson:
The foundation of all techniques lies in the first move. If it was flawed, then everything else would crumble.
That applies in this novel too. After all, there were no distinct differences when it comes to training.
Focusing inwardly, he tried to guide the zaen energy coming from the first gate— the soles— and straightened his posture.
But then, he frowned.
'Too stiff!'
Is what Eden would say, or any other person well-versed in using a sword.
Thus, he shifted his stance.
He planted his feet shoulder-width apart. His front foot pointed forward, with his back foot angled slightly. He turned his hips sideways, keeping his knees bent and his sword steady in his grip.
Haah…
He steadied his breath as he imagined the faint trace of zaen around his soles following the first gate's pathway.
His mind visualized a graceful sword dance he had watched from various anime: a single slash fast enough to vanish from sight and precise enough to cut only what he intended.
He opened his eyes and gripped the wooden blade tighter. The image was clear in his head, but…
'Can my body match it…?'
Again, the talent he possessed was not some kind of SSS-rank mastery that would allow him to mimic any technique he imagined.
But he needed to try.
He inhaled deeply and swung his sword.
Slash!
It was clumsy. His footing slipped slightly, his balance wavered, and the flow of zaen sputtered halfway through the motion.
The wooden sword sliced the air unevenly.
Faint traces of light trailed behind the blade and flickered erratically before fading. It was not elegant nor did it look like a graceful dance he imagined.
But then, his gaze caught something— a thin, faint line of glowing cyan-colored zaen suspended momentarily in the air. It was not bold or brilliant, but it was there.
Proof of progress.
He smiled. Though it was not as he imagined…
'Not bad.'
He was far from mastering the technique, but this small step was enough for now.
The foundation was laid.
***
A few steps behind him, Zack and Zach watched Seven with a serious expression as though the sight alone quelled their quarrel.
Zack removed his hand at Zach's collar and scratched his neck aggressively instead.
'What the fuck was that…?'
Zach, on the other hand, removed his hand at Zack's hair and reached for a comb inside his pockets before he brushed it on his hair.
'My… how elegant…'
Both of them thought.
After all, what they just witnessed was not a talentless Seven Hart they knew back then that was on the verge of getting exiled.
It was also not just because he opened the first gate that was rumored to be the doings of Eden Hart, their eldest sibling.
It was because…
"Damn it. That's…!"
"That's Father's technique."
The twins spoke in unison.
It was the foundational sword technique the Archduke personally drilled into his children once they turned sixteen that even the twins had only recently grasped it themselves.
And yet, standing before them was their younger brother who was not even sixteen and was trying to execute it.
A boy who, until recently, had not even left the Exiled Mansion until just recently to take the entrance test.
"Did Eden teach him…?"
The thought crossed both their minds. But they quickly dismissed it as the Archduke had forbidden anyone from passing it down.
Eden would not have broken that rule.
Thus, they were only left with one option.
Step. Step.
"Youngest."
Both of them, again, said in unison.
"Let's play a game."