MistyTL
patreon
Chapter 39: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 09:43:10 +0000 UTCNewbie Gacha (6)
Fortunately, Rick was still alive.
As the cheers of the crowd roared around her, Cecilia basked in the moment and spoke confidently.
Among knights, nobility was a given—at worst, you were treated as a lesser noble, and the more skilled you were, the more likely you came from a prestigious house. So naturally, Cecilia’s speech was long-winded.
But the message was incredibly simple:
—If you truly want to become a knight, come to Windsor.
In short, it was tampering.
And not even subtly—she did it outright.
***
“The Windsor Order has no sense of honor!”
The administrative officers of Windsor looked on, dumbfounded, as Edward spread his arms in a melodramatic pose.
‘Was the vice-commander always like this?’
‘He looks way too excited…’
“Well, this is about how they'll overreact. I mean, talent isn’t something only we need, after all.”
Edward looked genuinely delighted—completely unlike the royal-blooded, image-conscious man they were used to.
“We’ll deal with their complaints… cleanly.”
He grinned sharply.
“Our Sword Princess just made a bold move. It’s only right we back her up with force.”
The officers, though slightly reluctant, nodded.
Many of the knights who had witnessed the duel belonged to lords from other regions.
The issue was… Cecilia’s speech was actually quite compelling.
It wasn’t just her eloquence—her overwhelming skill gave her words real weight.
Naturally, many knights were moved by her.
In the world of nobility, power came from the number of knights one controlled.
Pushback was inevitable.
“But how do we—”
“In times like this, the best response is to ignore them, no?”
Frankly, the complaints were unavoidable.
They had no justification.
Truthfully, if Cecilia weren’t so cute and charming, this would’ve been a complete breach of decorum.
“What I meant was… crush them.”
“…!”
Edward smiled coldly.
“If any lord starts complaining or tries to block a knight from leaving their domain, just tell me their name.”
This wasn’t a suggestion to issue an official warning.
This was—
“The time has come to use that, huh?”
The unofficial power of the Windsor Knight Order.
To be precise, the unofficial influence of these officers.
“That thing, right?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Got it. I’ll use it.”
“And while you’re at it, you know the drill, right?”
“Go in hard. No mercy.”
Edward let out a small chuckle, offered them a perfunctory encouraged pat on the back, and walked out.
Most of the officers understood exactly what he meant.
But a few younger ones looked utterly lost.
One of them finally whispered to the side, their colleagues, and asked:
“What are they talking about?”
“They mean to use the power hidden behind the Windsor name.”
Even if they didn’t swing swords as often, officers were knights all the same.
Sure, they were more inclined towards the pen than the sword, but they still all bore the name Windsor.
“Oh… the noble houses…”
Aside from that, each one of them was either a child or branch member of a major noble family.
They were often chosen from among the great lords’ children who lacked martial talent.
In other words…
“Th-the Windsor Knight Order has sent a gift.”
“A gift?”
“…This.”
A royal envoy had arrived at the gates of a certain Earl’s estate—
One who had locked his lands down to prevent his knights from defecting to Windsor.
He was handed a gift inside a wooden crate.
The earl’s face stiffened as he saw the wood stained with blood.
He opened it in a panic.
“Hah… you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Inside the crate sat the severed head of a chicken—freshly beheaded, the eyes still open.
It was a classic declaration-of-war gesture, typically used in territorial conflicts.
But there was no way the Windsor Order, a knightly corps under the royal family, would actually be declaring war. The message had to mean something else...
The earl picked up the enclosed letter and read it.
There was no elaborate message—only one name:
—Howard Windsor.
“…Fuck.”
“What’s written in there that got you cursing, my lord?”
The earl handed over the letter, clutching his throbbing forehead. The knight who read it widened his eyes.
It was the name of the youngest son of the Marquis of Pembroke—the dominant great noble in the region.
“...Open the gates. Let the knights decide for themselves whether to leave or stay.”
“C-Can we really do that?”
“You want to go to war with Pembroke over this? Huh?!”
“Opening the gates right away, sir!”
This same scene played out in other territories as well.
Mainly in domains where the lords had tried to block knights from leaving, or had criticized the Windsor Order publicly.
For the more stubborn nobles—those who wouldn’t budge even under pressure from the great lords—Windsor’s officers sent ledgers filled with the noble’s shady dealings.
Or, worse, they simply sent a name: Edward.
Either way, with tears in their eyes, the lords had no choice but to release their knights.
***
Back at Windsor, Cecilia was very pleased with the new recruits she’d “acquired.”
“Sturtin and the other 14! You have been officially inducted!”
Having successfully poached a batch of knights, Cecilia was glowing with joy.
She was a little disappointed that they weren’t complete rookies, but she’d intentionally chosen only younger knights.
She was even tempted to take more, since the number slightly exceeded the quota—but decided to cut it off neatly.
Too many people would just be hard to manage.
‘Right. This recruitment was only to welcome the future newbies. I can’t forget that.’
After all, when the next batch of newbies arrived, she needed spots ready for them.
“Well done.”
Kairon nodded approvingly.
“That completes our new recruit supplement.”
Hearing that final confirmation, Cecilia’s face lit up like the sun.
Now all that was left… was to mix it up with the newbies!
‘And if I wait just one more year… it’ll fly by in no time!’
Still, it wasn’t time to wag her tail just yet. Cecilia maintained her dead-serious poker face and saluted.
“It was all thanks to Vice-Commander Edward.”
“Edward? Ah… I suppose he did stir things up quite a bit this time.”
That surprised even Kairon as well.
The Edward he knew would’ve gone out of his way to hinder Cecilia, not help her.
“Looks like he knows where the line is, at least.”
Kairon nodded slowly.
As much as he disliked Cecilia, Edward was still a knight of Windsor.
And this was a matter that impacted the whole Order—so he’d stepped up, for once.
“But stay wary of him. He may have helped you this time, but that doesn’t mean he will next time. He might even want something in return.”
“Understood.”
Cecilia replied meekly.
Kairon gave her a suspicious look.
She’d won the duel. She’d brought in the recruits just as asked.
At this point, she should be giving him puppy eyes begging for praise, so why was she so quiet?
Kairon sighed.
“What is it you want?”
“Please entrust the training of the Beginners to me.”
Cecilia loved killing demons.
Not just because it was fun in and of itself—but because of what it represented:
The anticipation that one day… the newbies would arrive!
That hope gave her purpose. It fueled her mission to become stronger.
And now, at long last, Cecilia had reached the first major milestone of her plan.
‘People from the modern world get dropped into a strange world. There are a million things you need to fix when that happens.’
Conscription? No—that was a dumb idea.
You got isekai’d into another world, completely bewildered, and then they throw you into forced confinement and training?
Low efficiency, limited results.
They say those who work hard can’t beat those who enjoy it.
But Cecilia thought differently.
If you don’t enjoy it, you can’t work hard in the first place.
So the key was to create an environment where the newbies naturally, voluntarily wanted to become stronger.
‘I have to take what I’ve learned from Another World and finally build a proper prototype.’
In other words, she’d need a lot of free time.
And Cecilia barely had any experience teaching others. This mission was the perfect opportunity.
“I’d like to train them for at least a year. Until something urgent comes up.”
“…A whole year, huh.”
By coincidence, Cecilia’s plan aligned perfectly with what Kairon also wanted.
He hoped to protect Cecilia at least until she came of age.
But what she was asking for wasn’t simple.
‘A knight of Sword Demon level refusing to take on any missions for a year would be a major loss. And there’s also the concern that her skills might dull during that time.’
Currently, the Lianen Kingdom was in constant conflict with the demons, causing incidents everywhere.
And the rest of the Windsor Order wouldn’t be thrilled either—
Cecilia’s abilities were far too valuable to be shelved.
“I’ll allow you to train the beginners. But… a year is too long.”
So Kairon offered a compromise.
“I’ll give you three months. Get them trained up to the point where they can survive real combat. After that, take them with you on missions.”
Cecilia’s eyes sparkled as she saluted sharply.
“Ace Instructor Cecilia, deploying now!”
***
In truth, she’d never expected to get an entire year off from active duty.
All she wanted was to avoid those cursed long-term missions.
In that sense, the negotiation had been a success.
‘Perfect. I can prep for the newbies without getting sent off on a long haul.’
Besides, Kairon’s suggestion to “take the new recruits with her on missions” was already part of her curriculum.
‘This is a chance—a test run of the ‘Cecilia Guide’!’
She would run experiments with these recruits, tracking their growth and testing different approaches to find out the optimal plan.
If her final goal was to one day take down the Demon God—
—then she had a lot of work ahead.
“Lady Cecilia… that outfit is…?”
“Huh? Everyone’s wearing armor?”
Cecilia first gathered 20 new knights. Of course, Beatrice was included.
They looked at her with nervous eyes.
Cecilia, meanwhile, was wearing a plaid dress.
…The very image of sweet, delicate femininity.
“W-Weren’t we going for training?”
‘So the culprit… was Betty. Just as I thought—clever kids are the hardest to deal with.’
Judging from Beatrice’s flustered voice, it was clear how everyone had ended up so prepared.
Cecilia offered a faint smile and held up a picnic basket.
“We’re going on a picnic.”
“…A picnic.”
A demon-hunting picnic, no doubt!
Beatrice was absolutely convinced of that.
But the other knights had already begun to relax.
“Jeez, I was getting nervous for no reason.”
“Right? Lady Cecilia wouldn’t throw us into a dungeon the day we joined, would she?”
“Exactly.”
Cecilia nodded cheerfully.
And then, beaming:
“So, would you all mind leaving behind those expensive swords, artifacts, and potions you’re carrying? You won’t need those on a picnic.”
Beatrice’s shoulders twitched.
Cecilia extended her hand toward her.
“Come on.”
Beatrice, looking like a puppy dragged out of a pond, reluctantly removed her pendant and handed it over.
“Hmm… enchanted with warp magic, huh.”
‘Wait—how did she even know that without appraising it?!’
Beatrice wore the expression of someone who had given up on life.
Meanwhile, the other knights obediently nodded, left their gear behind and returned shortly in just their uniforms, having removed even their armor.
As for Beatrice—she was dragged all the way to the locker room by Cecilia, where she was subjected to a full body inspection.
***
“Was there really a place like this in the capital?”
Windsor Knight Order’s 72nd Training Ground.
Level 3 classified location.
A vast plain, surrounded in all four directions by steep mountains.
‘I need cover—where’s cover?!’
Beatrice was pale as she darted her eyes around.
Soon, she spotted a lone picnic basket left out in the field.
Without hesitation, she ran to it—
—and inside was a small trowel.
“…!”
Beatrice immediately began digging into the ground like crazy.
“…What is she doing?”
“Beats me…”
“Wait, where did Lady Cecilia go?”
Elsewhere—Cecilia, who had disappeared saying she had something to take care of, was standing atop a ridge with Rude, looking down at the rookies on the plain.
“Lia. Are you really going through with this?”
“Yes.”
“…Hmm. Don’t you think it’s a bit too cruel?”
“Please do it.”
“Well… I do owe you, so I’ll go along with it.”
Rude scratched his head awkwardly.
“…Still feels kind of mean, though.”
And then, he extended a hand forward.
Dozens of overlapping magic circles spiraled down his arm—
The target was the ‘entire prairie’ in front of him.
“Freeze.”
In an instant, the great green field became a ‘frozen snowfield’.
