Chapter 550: Chapter 550- Under the Shade of the Gazebo

She was dressed in a deep emerald gown that clung elegantly to her figure, the fabric hugging her waist. The low neckline of the dress accentuated her full and voluptuous bosom and her blonde hair cascaded down behind her back like a flowing river.

Even just standing there, she exuded a charm and nobility that commanded attention.

The other figure was Arthur, his little brother. The little boy who was only six years old when he left the city now had grown, shedding some of his immaturity.

“Welcome home, Master Reinhardt.”

The moment Reinhardt stepped down from the carriage, the servants greeted him in unison.

He acknowledged them with a simple nod, then placed his attention on Verdia.

For a brief moment, the two mother and son and also a lone man and woman regarded one another. There was much emotion entangled within their gaze.

A few moments later, Verdia’s eyes softened and she immediately shifted her gaze.

There, her attention was drawn towards the women who got down after him. The three women, she knew all of them.

Karina, her son’s personal assassin. Anastasia the previous headmaid of their house and Zerina, the demi human woman who was newly appointed as the new Holy Knight of the order.

Although she knew all three of them, their closeness to Reinhardt, how naturally they stood near him, made something uncomfortable stir in her chest. She didn’t delve into it for long and welcomed him.

“Welcome, brother.”

Arthur, his little brother joined, walking side by side as they entered the palace.

The little guy had really grown up. Unlike his usual self who would incessantly pester him to train him.

“Where is father?”

“He has gone to the headquarters of the order, he’ll be back soon.”

“I see.”

“Why don’t you head to your room and rest. I’ll ask a servant to bring something for you to eat.”

“Alright.”

Reinhardt nodded and headed for his room.

After settling into his room, Reinhardt barely had time to remove his cloak before a sharp clang echoed from outside, followed by an overly enthusiastic shout.

“…Hah! Take that!”

Reinhardt paused, then another shout came, then again, and again.

Intrigued, he walked towards the window and glanced down. There in the garden of the estate, Arthur was swinging a wooden sword with far more enthusiasm than technique.

His stance was wide, his grip too tight, shoulders stiff, and every strike carried the unmistakable energy of someone trying very hard to look impressive rather than effective.

Reinhardt smiled wryly and shook his head.

.

Hah! Hah!

Arthur continued to swing with an enthusiastic shout.

“Good. Your form isn’t bad.”

Arthur hurriedly turned around.

Walking from the shadow of a tree, the silhouette of Reinhardt emerged.

“B-Brother?!” He didn’t even sense Reinhardt until the moment the other party called out to him.

The latter without a sound, scanned him and observed his techniques.

Arthur straightened instinctively, gripping his wooden sword tighter.

“I-I was just practicing!”

“I can see that,” Reinhardt replied evenly. “You’re putting strength into your swings. That’s good. However, if you only focus on strength, you will lose flexibility. What makes a sword sharp isn’t just its edge, it’s how a swordsman wields it.”

Arthur intently listened to the advice and put it into practice the next second. As the second son of the duke’s household, Arthur was no doubt a prodigy not inferior to the previous Reinhardt when he was young.

“Too wide. Narrow your stance.”

“Thumb here. Don’t strangle the hilt, guide it.”

He continued providing instructions from the side, guiding him and pointing out his flaws.

Arthur hurriedly adjusted, soaking in all the knowledge.

“Better, now relax your shoulders. You’re locking them. A sword’s strength is in its powerful strike and flexibility. Now focus.”

“Basic stance. Again.”

Reinhardt reached out, correcting the boy’s grip with practiced ease.

Arthur took a deep breath, eyes shining as he mimicked every adjustment. This was exactly the thing he wanted, his big brother teaching him swordsmanship.

With Reinhardt providing his guidance and Arthur soaking it in, time passed by in the blink of an eye.

“Good. That’s the foundation of all swordsmanship. Before flashy techniques, before power, comes balance. Remember this, in a battle, first your feet decide whether you live or die. Second, your posture decides whether your strike lands true.”

Arthur nodded vigorously, sweat continued to drip down his temple; nevertheless, a grin was plastered across his face, refusing to leave.

“Alright, that will be enough for today. Any more and your body won’t be able to hold up.”

Arthur was just eight years old after all, and his level was still only 2. Excessive training might have the opposite effect.

Arthur wanted to continue, but nodded his head after feeling exhaustion spread through his body.

“Brother, will you teach me again?”

Reinhardt opened his mouth, this trip to the Lumiose city was to progress a very important plan of his. As it was tied to the fate of the world, he could not spare his attention anywhere.

That said, after teaching Arthur for a while, he noticed that Arthur was a prodigy and that guiding him would pave a path for a future hero.

And so after thinking for a while, he nodded his head.

“Yes.” Arthur jumped in glee.

At some point during their practice, Verdia had arrived with a couple of maids trailing behind her, neatly folded towels, and a small tray of refreshments in their hands.

They stood beneath the shade of the garden arch, watching in silence as the two brothers practiced.

Arthur panting, drenched in sweat yet stubbornly refusing to drop his stance, and Reinhardt standing beside him correcting him with calm precision.

Verdia didn’t interrupt; she watched in a daze. Only after seeing that their practice had ended did she approach them.

“Mother!”

Arthur who was panting, suddenly darted towards her the moment he noticed her. Skidding to a stop in front of her, he spoke to Verdia with his eyes sparkling.

“Did you see?! Big brother was teaching me! He fixed my stance and my grip and, look, look!”

Before Verdia could respond, Arthur straightened, planted his feet, and demonstrated the stance Reinhardt had drilled into him.

Knees bent, back straight, sword raised with surprising discipline for his age. He even threw in a practice slash to flex his power.

The maids were impressed by his growth, or maybe infected by his happiness, they all praised him in delight.

“Young master is a prodigy.”

“You are surely going to become a splendid knight in the future.”

“Hehe.”

Arthur rubbed his nose, enjoying the flattery and attention.

Verdia observed him, a gentle warmth spreading through her chest. Seeing her son so happy, it made her happy too.

She reached out and hugged him.

After that, she placed her attention on Reinhardt, standing in the distance, holding a cup of water one of the maids provided him.

“Thank you, for taking the time to teach him. It means more than you know.” Verdia spoke with a sincere expression.

Since Raymond always busy managing the fief, he could hardly give time to his family, much less train Arthur in swordsmanship.

The little boy mature for his age, understood his father’s burden. However, there was a part of him that wanted his father or big brother’s attention.

Though he did train under other sword instructors, his status as well as stubbornness made it hard for them to teach him.

Reinhardt met Verdia’s eyes and gave a small nod.

“He has talent. More importantly, he picks up everything extremely quickly. I only guided him on a few aspects, the rest of it was his own achievement.”

.

Laughter rang through the garden, light and unrestrained.

Arthur darted between flowerbeds, maids chased after him, skirts gathered in their hands. Every time they came close, he bolted away.

“Try to catch me.”

“Young master, don’t be mischievous, you need to drink milk to grow up.”

Clearly, they were playing a game of run and tag. Arthur running while the maids chase after him to convince him to drink milk.

From the gazebo, Verdia watched with a soft smile. Across from her sat Reinhardt, his eyes following his little brother’s movements.

For a while, neither spoke.

As the afternoon sun slowly filtered through from the side, Verdia spoke, breaking the silence.

“How long will you be staying?”

As a governor, she knew that he could not leave his post absent for long and that his visit was short. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

Reinhardt exhaled slowly and shook his head. “I don’t know, a few days… perhaps longer. Or shorter.” He paused and added, “I’m not even certain I can accomplish what I came here to do.”

While he spoke, Verdia studied his profile. Gone were the days when she remembered the frail him lying on the bed, continuously tended by the maids and a life support system just to keep him alive.

The man sitting before her now carried himself with pose, power, and the weight of responsibility.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep