Jet Frost has loved swords since his childhood.
Because of the heroes in the fairy tales his mother would tell him at bedtime and the great men of history who did tremendous deeds.
The demons and demonic beasts which once drove the continent into fear!
And the heroes who cut down those evil creatures with their swords!
He admired them and wanted to be like them.
Thus Jet Frost stepped into the world of swords and developed his skills at a frightening pace.
Actually it was a natural outcome.
Frost was from a prestigious family that had produced excellent swordsmen for generations and Jet’s talent was unique among them.
He was so talented that even his brothers who were also talented lost their motivation.
In addition his passion and interest for swords skyrocketed and more rumors about him spread.
“That was the most enjoyable time.”
Jet smiled bitterly and continued.
Five years after he started practicing the sword.
He was praised for being the best among his peers in the nearby provinces.
But it didn’t matter. Jet continued to swing his sword happily.
Then 10 years passed since he first started practicing.
And around that time rumors about him being the best talent in the kingdom spread
Still he didn’t care. That wasn’t why he wielded his sword.
15 years after picking up the sword.
He reached the Expert Level at an early age and he joined the Knights of one of the five western kingdoms.
After that the story of Jet Frost began to spread beyond the kingdom to the entire western part of the continent.
When people talked about the young swordsmen who would lead the next generation his name was always mentioned.
It was the same when talking about the next Sword Master.
Although he was still 22 Jet was someone who was mentioned.
But from then on.
He couldn’t fully focus on the sword.
“Gradually… little by little other people began to care.”
It was the truth.
Until he was 22 Jet was the best talent in the Kingdom.
It felt wrong to put someone in front of him while he was only known in the kingdom.
However when he reached the Expert Level and his stage changed from kingdom to continent he wasn’t the best anymore.
He was just one of the best.
Maybe a little lower.
And that shook Jet Frost.
‘Jet Frost? That young man is great. But compared to the masters in the five kingdoms isn’t he a bit lacking?’
‘Similar? No he’s not. The owner of Krono that one was the best…’
People began to indirectly bully him.
‘What bullshit! Do you know how great Jet Frost is?’
‘So? You don’t even know their strength he isn’t much compared to the five kingdoms…’
‘You’ll regret those words. Sir Jet Frost will fully awaken his talents and become a Sword Master in his 40s or earlier!’
But there were people who trusted him.
Thousands of positive words came to the Frost family.
However no one was unaffected by the negative words.
Everyone in the family began to focus on the growth of Jet Frost and put him under pressure.
They made him learn possible competitors’ names and achievements when he didn’t want to know them.
He was being influenced. He only rejoiced or felt sorrow at his competitors’ skills instead of his own.
Thus Jet Frost began to practice the sword with a different feeling than before; the joyous feelings that were there at first faded away.
“Of course that stimulation wasn’t terrible. It was helpful enough even if it was forced. And the reason I got the title of the 101st Strongest Swordsman at 35 was because of my hard work I won’t deny it.”
“…”
“But that was the limit.”
It wasn’t fun anymore.
He was no longer happy.
The stimulation through competition didn’t last forever but rather it eroded his heart.
After 10 years passed since he reached the peak of the Expert Level and he still couldn’t become a Sword Master he realized that training the sword was no longer fun for him.
And Jet gave up on his journey to become a Master and settled in a corner of Partizan.
“Comparison competition and a desire to win… aren’t bad things. And if they are used properly and in moderation they would help you a lot.”
“…”
“But the problem is that ‘moderation’ isn’t always possible. There’s always a person stronger faster or smarter than you. And because of that a person who is obsessed with being on top will have no choice but to keep fighting and struggling. In order to be ahead of the race one will become impatient overworked and have no choice but to do more than they possibly can. And…”
Jet Frost looked at Irene and Bratt who were listening to him.
“And when geniuses like you come around that impatience gets worse.”
“…”
“I brought it up to make her aware of it. Don’t focus on comparing yourself to others or competing find yourself. Focusing on the pleasure of holding the sword will be more helpful in the long run. That was what I meant… but it seems to have backfired.”
He sighed and he drank the wine.
Seeing that Irene understood why Judith was angry.
No matter what the reason was Jet’s words were bound to hurt Judith’s pride.
Didn’t his words mean that she lacked talent compared to Irene and Bratt? Of course she reacted.
‘And he said that to not someone else but Judith of course she would explode.’
Irene’s expression hardened.
Because he never thought that Judith was inferior to him.
And Judith herself would have never thought that.
But if someone like Jet said it she would definitely be concerned.
No matter how good his intentions were.
“…”
“…”
Silence fell.
Neither Bratt Irene nor the butler spoke.
Even Jet Frost didn’t. All of them were looking at one place.
Judith had quietly entered the room at the beginning of the story.
She looked at his face with a calmer expression.
“First I’m sorry.”
“…”
“I know that you weren’t downgrading me. Well I do admit that these jerks are smarter than me. And you were right that I was trying too hard to catch up with them but what do you know?”
“… what?”
“I didn’t pick up the sword for fun.”
“…”
“I raise my sword to make sure I survive and not die.”
With that Judith spoke about her childhood.
As we know Judith lost her parents when she was young.
And because of that she fell into the slums of Pavar at the age of seven and had to do anything to survive. ⁽¹⁾
No just doing anything wasn’t enough.
She had to be the best to survive.
‘You jerks! We give you a place to sleep and even protect you from bugs but this is all that you earn? From now on kids who don’t meet the quota don’t get food!’
In order to eat one meal a day she had to bring in money and satisfy the boss and for that she had to beg better than others.
Judith would study the passers-by and use that information to survive and get food while others starved to death.
But that wasn’t enough.
As time went on the boss’s greed grew and Judith who couldn’t get enough money from begging started pickpocketing.
Judith had a knack for using her body.
She would rob the passers-by with her hand skills and because of that she could live better since she made the boss a lot of money.
And she thought that it would get better.
But
‘W-What you bastard! Where is the money!’
‘I don’t give you a place to sleep and food for nothing…!’
A month later pickpocketing stopped working and Judith couldn’t get money.
She stared at the boss who kept beating her.
She didn’t want to live like that.
And she didn’t want to get beat anymore.
That was why Judith took up the sword.
“Of course I didn’t have a proper sword or teacher.”
It was natural.
How could a girl own a sword and live in the slums?
And where would a teacher even come?
She picked up a pretty straight branch and trained herself and watched the fights between rough men on the shores.
Occasionally when a wandering knight would come and boast about himself she would try to watch them and imitate their movements.
And she thought.
One day she would be able to kill the boss and his subordinates.
And someday she will be an excellent swordsman and even the wandering knights would have to look up to her.
As a commoner orphan and slum dweller she promised to equip herself with skills so that no one could look down on her.
Her peers made fun of her but Judith never stopped.
She swung that branch while the others would act helpless.
She would swing it while everyone slept.
She even swung it when the boss took the kids’ money and got drunk.
She lived harder than her peers the boss and anyone her age.
And then she turned 12.
Judith’s wooden sword smashed the boss’s head.
It surprised everyone in the slums.
“If not for the person who inspected the scene he’s my senior now… I would have died. But I was able to survive thanks to the senior who took me in.”
“…”
“But I still can’t forget that time.”
She was saved by someone from Krono and then became a preliminary trainee.
However Judith would never forget it.
If she didn’t move faster than others she would have to starve.
A hell where if she wasn’t better than others she would be trampled to death.
For her that was what defeat symbolized.
“Of course now I like swords. Learning the smallest things makes me feel good and the smallest growth makes me smile. Before I knew it I turned into a swordsman.”
“…”
“But that isn’t my initial intention. My focus… was competition.”
For her it was a competition.
Winning or losing was related to survival.
Judith who said that paused.
Everyone waited for her to cool her emotions by breathing deeply.
And then she spoke.
“It will be crazy. And overkill. But if I can get myself to defeat the ones superior to me despite being overworked if I can move forward without losing…”
“…”
“Suffering in the process can be tolerated.”
As if she was making an oath to herself Judith finished in a strong tone.
Her eyes were on fire as she looked at Jet Frost.
And Irene watched that.
He stared at Judith’s fire which was much more intense than his.
⁽¹⁾Pavar is a coastal city.
