I Became a Crazy Swordsmanship Instructor in the Game

Chapter 4:

Chapter 4:

It was late afternoon.

Cheryl, a working scholarship student, brushed away the dust that had accumulated on the bookshelves, while she was lost in her own thoughts.

‘What was tonight’s dinner menu again? Croissants? Danish?’

Being able to dine at the employee cafeteria, which was famous for its delicious food, was a privilege exclusive to working scholarship students. Though she couldn’t recall the exact menu, the way her mouth watered hinted that it would be a fairly appetizing selection.

She tightly tied her long, chestnut-colored curly hair, and readjusted her round horn-rimmed glasses. With just two more bookshelves left to tidy up, she was almost done with her tasks for the day.

Three days before the start of the semester, the empty library served as both her workplace and her playground.

Apart from the occasional presence of professors or staff members who hadn’t returned to their hometowns, she was the only one in this space.

As she gazed at the never-ending rows of bookshelves and breathed in the aroma of aged paper, she couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm to it, even though an inherent sense of solitude persisted.

“… Please, don’t do this. You shouldn’t fall in love with a simple girl like me.”

Following the protagonist of the novel she was reading yesterday, “The Deadly Maid,” or…

“Do you think commoners are unworthy of wielding a sword? Ha! My sword is too precious compared to a despicable man like you. Come at me. I’ll shatter that smug arrogance of yours!”

If she didn’t work while muttering famous quotes from the renowned female warrior, “Elvera,” it would be too mundane and lonely, and she dreaded what fate might befall her.

“Grow stronger, Your Highness. Shimmering jewels and beautiful dresses are but worthless compared to a single drop of sweat shed on the battlefield or the training ground… Huh?”

Cheryl suddenly felt a presence. As she turned her head, she instantly realized how belated her awareness had been.

“Oops!”

She covered her mouth and gazed at the young man standing there, unsure of when he had arrived.

His golden hair radiated a lustrous sheen, and his skin was fair as freshly fallen snow. It was as if someone had sculpted the term “nobleman” into a human form. The youthful figure before her held an expression of mild amusement as he fixed his eyes upon Cheryl.

In that moment, Cheryl longed to plummet from a great height, seeking an escape from her current predicament.

‘Please! Laugh at me instead. I beg you, just laugh at me! Please don’t offer empty words of comfort. I implore you!’

Her earnest desire went unfulfilled. Philip had never learned how to mock a student.

“…”

An awkward silence filled the air.

The young man, Philip, attempted to break the tension with a forced cough.

“Ahem, it seems like I’ve arrived at an inopportune time. I apologize.”

Cheryl, the girl with curly hair, had tears streaming down her face; even her cheeks were flushed crimson. Philip didn’t know how to comfort her.

“Your pronunciation is quite good. You could consider becoming an actress.”

“Ah… Thank you.”

“Well, I’m here because I’m looking for a particular book.”

Upon hearing her somewhat lackluster voice, Philip quickly excused himself from the scene. The bookshelf he sought was a few minutes’ walk away from the entrance.

“… Sniff.”

Consciously ignoring the sound of the sniffling forlorn girl, Philip located the section housing the collection of history books.

‘Phew, Neria was feeling embarrassed for her. That took quite a while. By the way, Master, what are you searching for here?’

With Neria nestled at his waist, Philip replied in a hushed voice.

“A Sacred Scroll.”

‘A Sacred Scroll? Does the Academy library really have something like that? Isn’t it something that stays in the secret treasure vault to be guarded as family special inheritance?’

As the name suggested, the Sacred Scroll was an item used to learn hidden techniques. 

Typically owned by noble families or martial organizations, they were objects that were rarely seen unless one accomplished something exceptional.

Yet, the Privia Academy possessed as many as five of these books. One of them happened to be the very object Philip desired.

‘The Moonlight Sword. Nothing else could complement me better at this moment.’

‘This academy has been around for over 200 years, so there are numerous secrets unknown to the general public.’

‘But how do you know about them if people aren’t aware?’

‘… Just because….’

‘Ugh, you’re so frustrating. Can’t you give me some hints?’

‘Heh, you’re as sharp as an unnecessary blade…’

Muttering under his breath, Philip rummaged through the bookshelves.

The Moonlight Sword was one of the most elusive skills to obtain, even within the Academy Heroes. It required a solid understanding of the world’s lore, and without that knowledge, it was challenging to acquire even a single clue.

Originally, the plan was to gather information about the “Etoonda” continent from various regions through both internal and external activities in the academy, then obtain hints from that information. Using those hints, he would uncover further clues, with the final one being located in the academy library.

The task involved arranging predetermined books in designated slots, in a specific order. To make matters worse, if someone borrowed those books, they had to wait indefinitely until they were returned.

“But it’s currently vacation time, isn’t it?”

‘Who are you talking to? Are you talking to that girl you were muttering to earlier?’

Ignoring Neria, Philip relentlessly rolled his eyes, and started searching for clues.

“Found it.”

Having discovered two books in the history section, Philip now headed towards the geography section.

‘Master, Neria is getting bored.’

‘Just a moment, I just need to find a few more. Ah, here it is.’

Next was the literature section, which had an even greater number of books compared to the other sections.

‘Oh, this is the book that Neria’s second owner adored.’

Philip paused in his search through the bookshelf as Neria’s words caught his attention.

The book he held in his hands bore the title ‘Moonlight, and Girls.’ It was precisely the book he had been seeking.

“Ah, thank you,” he replied gratefully.

“… By any chance, do you also enjoy stories about girls embracing and kissing each other?” Neria inquired, her curiosity evident.

“Not particularly. Ah, so that’s what the book is about?” Philip clarified.

He had no intention of delving into the forbidden realm of the past. It was far better to leave it buried and forgotten.

“Indeed, this body is nothing more than a charade,” Philip mused to himself. Even his eyes seemed to be part of the illusion. His sight, perception, visual acuity—everything was flawless. Thanks to this advantage, he could effortlessly skim through the bookshelf, finding the desired tome without meticulously examining each volume.

After successfully locating six books, Philip made his way toward the western corner of the room, and headed for the unclassified section. There, beneath a window on the wall, he discovered an aged desk, upon which sat a small bookshelf.

Engraved on the bookshelf were the following words:

“In honor to the prodigious master, Ottem, who bore the weight of destiny.”

“Deliberating upon the golden age of swordsmanship.”

“The Dragon of the Rundah Mountains.”

“Moonlight, and Girls.”

“A Revelation of the Sword—Subtitle: Unveiling the Essence of the Blade.”

“Dedicated to the prodigy.”

By meticulously arranging the six books in the designated sequence upon the bookshelf, Philip would unveil the fabled Sacred Scroll.

And the order was none other than that of the Six Principles:

“Master Ottem, during the golden age of swordsmanship, amidst the Rundah Mountains, attained enlightenment in the sword, while admiring the moonlight; it’s dedicated to the prodigy.”

In a bygone era, there was a legendary sword master named ‘Ottem’ who chose to conceal his true identity after years of active involvement. 

It was during a contemplative moment, as he gazed at the moon, that he experienced a profound revelation. This revelation, interwoven with his expertise in swordsmanship, gave birth to the fabled tale known as the ‘Moonlight Sword.’

As Philip meticulously arranged the books in their proper sequence, a subtle radiance permeated the gaps between the pages. 

The ethereal light coalesced into a slender beam, briefly caressing Philip’s hand before fading away.

…

Philip maintained a silent pause, his eyes shut, allowing the entirety of the ‘Moonlight Sword’ to firmly imprint itself upon his mind. This was no ordinary book; it was a Sacred Scroll, a conduit of knowledge passed down through generations.

‘This is something truly remarkable.’

‘What is it? What kind of Sacred Scroll is this?’ Neria inquired, her curiosity piqued.

‘We shall discover that from this moment onward,’ Philip responded.

Indeed, the ‘Moonlight Sword’ was far from an easily attainable Sacred Scroll. Its acquisition posed a formidable challenge, known only to a select few. Unless one possessed the same meticulous nature as Philip, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, the existence of such a text would remain shrouded in mystery.

Moreover, within the system, an individual could learn only a single Sacred Scroll.

While other Sacred Scrolls of S-rank caliber provided instructions on accumulating magical prowess, including the esteemed ‘Simbeop’ or ‘Martial Method,’. From their very inception, the ‘Moonlight Sword’ demanded a certain threshold of magical potency and refined physicality before one could truly savor its essence.

{TN:- “Simbeop” is a Korean term that can be translated as “heart method” or “mind technique.” In the context of martial arts or swordsmanship, it refers to the mental and spiritual aspects of combat. Simbeop focuses on cultivating a calm and focused state of mind, developing one’s mental fortitude, and harnessing inner strength to enhance martial skills and techniques.}

Mastery of sword techniques was a prerequisite. The tale spoke of the arduous journey one must undertake, as without honed swordsmanship skills and the appropriate reservoirs of magical power, gaining entry into the realm of the ‘Moonlight Sword’ itself would prove elusive.

The dilemma lay in the fact that, due to the inadequacy of his specifications, Philip would almost inevitably face a game over before meeting the required conditions.

Philip, too, exerted multifaceted efforts to somehow make use of the Moonlight Sword. However, even after mastering its techniques, he found himself unable to progress beyond the mid-episodes.

‘But in my current circumstances, it hardly matters if I acquire it or not. I’m not lacking in power at the moment, and I’ve already satisfied the acquisition conditions.’

As if tailored specifically for him, Philip’s present situation perfectly aligned with the predetermined conditions.

‘Could it be that this is not an unfavorable situation?’

Though he hadn’t experienced it before, Philip had no doubt that a Sacred Scroll with such arduous acquisition requirements would possess commendable performance.

Under normal circumstances, he would have opted for a different Sacred Scroll. Yet, unlike before, Philip found himself with room to spare, allowing for a daring leap of faith.

The contents of the Sacred Scroll, the ‘Moonlight Sword,’ began to flow into his mind.

Philip immediately grasped why this form of transmission was chosen, diverging from the traditional book format.

The Moonlight Sword was filled with abstract and profound concepts that defied simple description—a realm of abstraction and higher-level understanding.

The focus of discussion revolved more around uncertain possibilities rather than concrete phenomena, and even the shape of those possibilities seemed distant from intuition.

From the very beginning, the approach itself diverged from the norms of conventional swordsmanship.

It was an exquisitely refined and literary metaphor that would be incredibly challenging to find even in Philip’s original world.

To illustrate, it was akin to describing the process of a single droplet of spilled wine at a banquet transforming into the vastness of the sea—a concept that those lacking imagination would struggle to comprehend.

Truly, it was a Sacred Scroll crafted specifically for prodigies, one that fundamentally resisted universal approaches.

“… But why do I have a vague understanding?”

Amidst those abstract images, Philip sensed something, an intangible connection. He discerned, albeit hazily, that these incomprehensible fragments of information were conveying a profound and sweeping narrative.

Somehow, he felt that he held an inkling of the initial step required to tread the path of the Moonlight Sword.

‘… Master?’

In that very moment, Neria’s voice reached his ears.

As Philip swiftly regained a sense of reality and surveyed his surroundings, he found the ambiance already cloaked in shadows.

‘Do you have any idea how long you’ve been at it? Neria thought you had passed out!’

To add to the frustration, an angered Sword and a curly-haired girl were waiting for Philip.

“… What time is it now?”

When Philip asked, the sympathetic working scholarship student girl responded.

“It’s nine o’clock in the evening. Um, we called for you, but there was no response…”

Cheryl felt a pang of sadness.

She didn’t have the audacity to disturb the noble instructor, who appeared deeply engrossed in an important dilemma. Consequently, she had to forgo her dinner, though it was an unavoidable circumstance.

‘… It was the day croissants were served.’

Gurgle!

A hollow sound emanated from her empty stomach. Cheryl wasn’t the only one who heard it.

“Did you go hungry because of me?”

At nine o’clock, the faculty cafeteria had already closed. He was aware of Cheryl’s situation.

Hailing from humble origins, she worked as a scholarship student during breaks and undertook errands for professors to barely cover her tuition as a third-year student in the Academy of Magic.

While it might not have played a major role, Philip’s endearing image with round glasses frames made him quite popular.

Feeling a pang of conscience, Philip opened his mouth.

“It’s because of me that you skipped dinner.”

“Oh, no! I’m okay, Instructor.”

“Are you sure? As an apology, I was planning to buy you some bread from Cruzel Bakery.”

At the mention of Cruzel Bakery, Cheryl’s mouth filled with saliva.

The bakery catered to the wealthy noble staff and students of the academy. Despite the high prices, it was renowned and often fully booked during the semester. Of course, for a poor working scholarship student like Cheryl, it seemed like an unattainable dream.

“Oh, really, I’m fine…”

“I’m not fine, so come with me.”

Following Philip, Cheryl accompanied him and returned with her arms full of bread that would last her several days.

———-

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