The next period required Rest to part ways with the Rosemary sisters. He headed for the Knight Department training ground to attend his elective course: Swordsmanship.
Although Rest was a student of the Magic Department, the academy permitted students to enroll in classes from other departments as electives. Swordsmanship was a Knight Department staple, yet a surprisingly high number of Magic Department students chose to take it as well.
"Time to get moving... I’d better make sure I don't get hurt," Rest muttered to himself.
"Man, what a pain... this sun is murder on my skin..."
As Rest stepped out onto the schoolyard in his gym uniform, he found Luid Gistal—a classmate he had recently befriended—slumping his shoulders listlessly.
"We’re aspiring mages, aren't we? Why on earth do we have to spend our time clashing swords?"
"I suppose it’s considered a necessary accomplishment for a noble," Rest replied.
The majority of Magic Department students enrolled in Swordsmanship were indeed the sons or heirs of noble families. The traditional belief that a noble man must be able to wield a blade to protect his land and people in times of crisis was still deeply rooted in aristocratic society. Because of this, many students from outside the Knight Department opted for the course.
About a hundred students had gathered on the training ground. Half were from the Knight Department, while the rest were a mix of other disciplines: roughly fifty percent from the Magic Department, thirty percent from the Civil Official Department, and twenty percent from the Priest Department. There were almost no students from the Art Department, likely because an injury to their fingers would be catastrophic for their work.
While most injuries could be mended with magical Healing, it was common knowledge that even healed wounds could leave lingering effects on the delicate, precise movements required for painting or playing an instrument.
"Exactly. There’s no need to study the blade when you can just blast things from the back line with magic," a male student chimed in from behind Luid, his voice laced with resentment.
"You’re... Louis, right?"
"Maurice is fine. And you’re Rest, the matrilocal husband candidate of the Rosemary house."
The boy, Maurice Louis, adjusted the bridge of his spectacles. He had a sharp, intellectual look about him, which stood in stark contrast to his thin, almost fragile frame. It was painfully obvious that he was not the athletic type.
"Isn’t swordsmanship just a toy for people too incompetent to use magic? It’s a disgrace that it’s considered a noble pursuit."
"Whoa, hold on... aren't you going a bit too far?" Rest cautioned.
Maurice’s mindset was by no means rare. Many mages looked down on weapons like swords and spears, viewing them as inferior tools for commoners who lacked the talent for magic. Naturally, such an attitude was an insult to those training to be knights or warriors. A student from the Knight Department standing nearby caught the comment and shot Maurice a sharp glare.
"Even a mage might have to fight directly if things turn into a chaotic melee," Rest argued. "I don't think it hurts to be prepared for close-quarters combat."
"Heh... that’s an unexpected take from the future son-in-law of a prestigious mage family. Are you suggesting the sword is superior to magic?"
"I’m saying it depends on the situation. It’s better to be capable of both."
After all, Eilische Rosemary—a woman of the purest Rosemary blood—was a specialist in hand-to-hand combat. Dieble, a former Court Mage, was also a master of martial arts. Being a mage was no excuse to neglect physical combat.
"Hmph... I see. Well, everyone is entitled to their opinion," Maurice said, snorting dismissively.
He was clearly a proponent of Magic Fundamentalism—the belief that mages were inherently superior to other humans. For a student of the Magic Department, it was a standard, if somewhat arrogant, worldview.
"Oh? What’s going on? The air feels awfully heavy over here."
"Yuri."
Yuri Catreia appeared on the training ground, her face bright with a cheerful smile that rivaled the sun.
"L-Lady Catreia..." Maurice stammered, his face turning a sudden, violent shade of red.
Luid’s eyes widened, and Rest could only manage a wry, awkward smile. Yuri had also changed into her gym uniform, but it was evidently a size too small for her. Her generous bust stretched the fabric tight, pulling the hem of the top upward and exposing her navel. Seeing her now in such light attire, it was clear she was the type whose figure was deceptively well-hidden by her regular clothes.
(Come to think of it, she had a pretty incredible body when she was soaked to the bone that other time... no, focus.)
"What’s the occasion, Yuri? You’re in a spectacular mood."
"Of course I am! I’ve been waiting for this Swordsmanship class!" Yuri declared, pumping her fists. "I’ve wanted to study the sword for years! My father refused to let me, though—some house policy or other. I’ve been looking forward to this all day!"
"I see... I’m glad you’re getting the chance, then."
The Catreia house was a legendary lineage of knights. Rest found himself wondering once again why the daughter of such a prominent family had felt the need to run away from home.
"Maurice, you should give it your best too! It doesn’t matter what department we’re in. If we’re going to do this, let’s give it everything we’ve got!"
"Ugh... r-right... of course..." Maurice muttered, averting his eyes from Yuri’s form and giving a reluctant nod.
"We’re starting! Everyone, gather round!" the instructor shouted.
The lesson was beginning. Rest and the others broke into a light jog, joining the rest of the students as they assembled in the center of the training ground.