When I got home and showed the letter in question to my aunt, she stayed silent for a while before speaking.
"This is a love letter."
"...R-Really? You think so?"
Having had zero experience receiving anything like this—even including my previous life—I was utterly incapable of judging for myself. That was why I showed it to my worldly aunt to get her assessment, but...
"Worst-case scenario, you're getting a confession."
"Seriously?"
This was practically my first time experiencing academy life, but was that really how it worked?
Is she actually right about this? Is this really okay?
My aunt did have a habit of saying bizarre things a good portion of the time.
"Well, setting aside whether it actually turns into that kind of talk, this girl comes from a good family. You'd better wear proper clothes."
"Well... I guess that makes sense."
Considering the standing of the Meltzelia family, my attire would likely be put to the test as well. If I showed up in some poorly chosen casual clothes, she'd probably mock me with something like, "My, what an exceptionally splendid outfit. Won't you please share your family's personal tailor with me?"
"B-But Auntie! I grew up in the countryside, so I don't know the first thing about capital fashion!"
"Leave it to me. I'll pick out your clothes."
"That's my aunt! I can always count on you!"
"Follow me, boy."
And so, swept up in a bizarre kind of excitement, we headed out into town.
◇
The weekend.
I was visiting a residential district in the northern part of the imperial capital.
According to Aunt Coffey, it was an area with "the highest land value around here."
Every house as far as the eye could see had a spacious garden and tall walls, and the people walking down the streets on occasion were clearly clad in clothing from a completely different price bracket than mine.
Of course, I was dressed appropriately for the time and place at the very least.
Though I hadn't realized a collared shirt could feel this uncomfortable.
Following the address written on the letter, I eventually reached my destination. Standing out among the lined-up residences was a mansion with an exceptionally vast estate—the Meltzelia family's detached villa.
The gate was made of black cast iron, adorned at the center with a crest in the shape of a sword. That must be their family crest.
Her family home was apparently located in the western region of Gleefia, but as was customary for houses of such status, they usually kept their main estate in the provinces and maintained a smaller residence in the imperial capital for official business.
Even if they called it "small," the grounds were about five times larger than an average estate. A vegetable garden would certainly thrive here.
In front of the gate stood two guards wearing uniforms that resembled military attire.
When I drew the invitation from my breast pocket, one of them promptly straightened his posture.
"I'm Brendan. Miss Mercedes invited me."
"We have been expecting you. Please, come inside."
I stepped through the gates.
Guiding me from the entrance was a quiet, elderly male servant.
"My name is Golaphim. Welcome. The young lady is waiting inside."
Led by him, I walked through the mansion and opened the door leading to the garden. Judging by the way he walked, this old man didn't seem to be an ordinary person either.
"Milady. Lord Walker has arrived."
Stepping out into the sunlit garden, the scent of flowers was the first thing to tickle my nose. Just as the letter had promised, the blooms in the garden were in their prime.
A white stone terrace.
Beside a table set upon it, she was gracefully gazing at the flowers.
Her chestnut hair wasn't in its usual style, but instead let down loosely.
Nor was she in the uniform I was used to seeing in class, but rather dressed in a clean, refined outfit based in white. It was an off-the-shoulder dress, which felt slightly alluring.
Noticing me, Mercedes slowly stood up and bowed with elegant poise. The atmosphere in the air seemed to ring with a crisp tension.
"Welcome, Brendan Walker."
Her usual aggressive smirk was nowhere to be found; today, Mercedes greeted me with a surprisingly soft expression.
◇
"Thank you for taking the trouble to come today."
"No, it's a rare opportunity for me too, so I'm glad you invited me."
Mercedes's deferential manner was completely unlike how she acted in the classroom. It seemed wiser to treat this not as a fun chat between classmates, but as a formal social occasion.
"I shall have tea prepared at once. Please, have a seat."
Before I realized it, the butler had pulled out a chair for me, so I sat down as Mercedes urged.
"So, about today..."
"Yes. As I mentioned, I wanted you to take a moment to soothe your daily fatigue, Lord Walker."
So she really does... Wait, but when I thought about it, Mercedes and I weren't actually close or anything.
Still, there was a sense that she was making an effort to get along with me as a classmate. It might be rude of me to stay too guarded.
"Thank you for waiting. This is Emerissa first flush. Please enjoy the fragrance of young leaves still bearing the spring dew."
Along with Golaphim's brief explanation, an amber liquid was poured into a lavish teacup. Having seen similar tea sets through my grandfather's work, I knew this was a masterwork from a renowned workshop. It had to be handled with utmost care.
To be honest, I wasn't used to this kind of thing, but I possessed at least enough knowledge to check the aroma first. Afterward, I slowly tipped the cup to my lips.
I see. This tea really had a complex... sort of... grass? High-class grass? It wasn't raw, but it tasted like... an exceptionally pleasant-smelling grass?
"How is it?"
"It's delicious."
"I am glad. The tea leaves from the Homura highlands are of fine quality, and I often enjoy them myself. To ensure the contours of the aroma are not lost, soft water was used. I am delighted to hear it suits your palate."
So that's what she mentioned in the letter.
Piecing together all the information so far, this was black tea brewed with soft water using Emerissa first flush harvested from the Homura highlands. Talk about a mouthful.
"It must be exhausting serving as the faculty representative. Have you grown accustomed to life in the capital?"
"No, I haven't really been able to go out much yet."
"In that case, I would be more than happy to show you around sometime. Consider it my thanks for everything you do."
"No, it's really nothing that special..."
"You are too humble. Leading us while keeping up with your research late into the night... You have my utmost respect."
Being praised that much felt rather embarrassing.
Yet the massive contrast with the usual Mercedes gave me a strange feeling.
"I have had my eye on you for quite some time, Lord Walker."
"For quite some time?" I asked in return, picking up my cup.
"Your movements during the field exercise were truly remarkable. You seemed to take care not to act flashy, but I could tell."
"You're overestimating me."
"Above all, that beautiful magic sword. Did you forge it yourself?"
Since we'd barely spoken before, Mercedes probably didn't know I spent all my time forging magic swords. Deepening our connection on this occasion would likely make things go much smoother going forward.
"Yeah. I made it."
"Splendid. To be able to forge such a magic sword at your age."
"Are you fond of magic swords?"
"Of course. The Meltzelia family is a lineage of swordsmen founded on martial valor. When I was a child, a directory of magic swords served as my picture book. Many magic swords are kept in my family's storehouse, and I believe I have familiarized myself with most magic swords from all times and places."
As expected of a young lady from a prestigious noble family.
Magic swords came in all grades, but depending on the piece, some could buy a castle or were entirely priceless.
"If I had to make a comparison, your magic sword resembles the early works of the great hero, Lord Van. Could it be that you modeled it after his swords?"
"Ah... Well..."
When I gave a noncommittal response, Mercedes broke into an elegant smile and lightly clapped her hands together.
"I knew it. The way the ridge is shaped and the way the wave of the temper line is contained are strikingly similar. The magic swords he forged in his prime are still carefully preserved as national treasures to this day, so it is only natural for a magic sword craftsman to revere him. I, too, look up to him as one of the mages I deeply respect."
Indeed, I had heard that many mages admired Van of the Treasure Sword, the hero of the Dragon Sinking War. It was also true that using his magic swords as a standard had advanced smelting techniques by decades.
"By the way, Lord Walker. Do you happen to know Lord Van's full name?"
I silently rested my hand on my cup.
It was purely an intuition, but...
At that moment, I vaguely realized that Mercedes had zero interest in me as an individual.
"It is not widely known, but his true name is apparently Van Walker. Hehe, what a coincidence that you share the same name."
"..."
"Oh, goodness me. With so many points in common, one might let their imagination run wild. But Walker is a common name, so surely it must be my misun—"
"Van Walker is my grandfather."
Abruptly.
Mercedes's tongue, which had been moving so smoothly until now, came to a dead halt.
"Is there anything else you want to ask?"
A few seconds of silence hung in the air.
Only the sound of the gentle breeze swaying the plants flowed quietly between us.
"...I see. So you admit it."
"I was never hiding it."
I had heard that in his youth, the old man hated dealing with trouble and manipulated information so his real name wouldn't be tracked down, but that was ancient history. At the very least, ever since I was born, he hadn't made any particular effort to hide it.
So I understood that this kind of topic would come my way sooner or later, but having it brought up by a classmate caught me off guard.
"...Then the rumor that the great hero Van was living in a secluded land with an apprentice in his later years was true."
"At least as far as I'm concerned, I've lived with the old man my whole life."
"And that you inherited all of Van's techniques?"
"I wouldn't know about that."
I lightly shook my head.
Without realizing it, I had crossed my arms.
"My magic swords are purely my own. The fundamental philosophy behind my swords is completely different from the old man's. If you want one of his swords—"
"Do not underestimate me."
Mercedes set down her cup.
It didn't make a sound, yet the air between Mercedes and me felt taut with tension.
"I can at least tell the genuine from the fake. That was undeniably a magic sword that inherited Lord Walker's design philosophy. Besides, there is no reason he wouldn't pass down smelting techniques of that caliber to his own flesh and blood."
Before I knew it, Mercedes had returned to her usual expression. It was the face she often showed at Magias, wearing a pasted-on smile to intimidate others.
"If it is you, you must know, right? How to forge a holy sword."
In the end, that was the entire reason she called me here.
"Even assuming I did, what of it?"
"Forge a holy sword for me."
"What do you plan to do with something like that?"
"Because it is an unavoidable path if I am to become a Sword Saint. Modern magical warfare is not naive enough to be handled through skill alone."
Indeed, successive Sword Saints never compromised on their magical mediums, let alone their raw ability. This wasn't limited to swordsmen, but I could understand the reality that forced even someone as proud of her skill as Mercedes to rely on tools.
If her solution to that problem was to seek out a sword made by Van Walker, then petitioning me was indeed the shortest route.
"So what are you saying? You want the same kind of sword the previous Sword Saint had?"
"Yes. Aren't you also searching for a wielder worthy of the Walker name? Am I unsatisfactory? Of course, when it comes to compensation—"
"Sorry, but I can't forge a magic sword for anyone else."
The smile vanished from Mercedes's face.
It was an expression I had never seen on her before.
"I'm sorry you counted on me, but if you want to place a weapon order, look somewhere else."
For a certain reason, the current me had no right to take custom orders for magic swords. Entrusting a holy sword to someone else was even more out of the question.
"...Then what are you forging magic swords for?"
"Because I like magic swords."
I no longer remembered why it turned out this way.
But that was the sole reason I forged magic swords.
"...In short, your magic swords are mere ornaments made without the resolve to shoulder someone's life. To think this is all the great hero's grandson amounts to... Yes. Very well, I understand."
Mercedes's eyes weren't merely expressionless; they were utterly cold. She wasn't even trying to meet my gaze anymore.
"...Are we done talking?"
"No. There was still much I wished to discuss, but if you are busy, Lord Walker, then it cannot be helped."
Mercedes said so shamelessly, standing up impassively and pointing toward the exit with her palm.
"Thank you for coming today. Please take care on your way home."
◇
When I got back home, my aunt was uncharacteristically lounging around on the living room sofa.
"Welcome back, Bren. How was the date?"
"It wasn't a date."
"It was not a date after all?!"