Love Letter From The Future

Ceria Yuridina was wielding her sword from early morning that day.

Her day always began that way. Ever since she first held a sword at six years old, there hadn’t been a day she missed practicing. Rain or snow, her sword always traced several trajectories.

Some called her a genius of the sword. It was understandable. Since she turned her teens, she had been hunting monsters, gaining a reputation along the way.

By the time she turned eighteen, an official invitation arrived from the Academy. It was a transparent offer to take the entrance exam for the continent’s top educational institution. Of course, Ceria willingly accepted that invitation.

Among the geniuses gathered at the Academy, there were few who could rival her. At least among her peers, there were barely one or two. This allowed her to maintain the top position in the Swordsmanship Department until now.

Thus, the title of ‘genius’ attached to her was neither an exaggeration nor flattery. She was a genius in the truest sense.

However, she was merely a ‘hard-working’ genius.

Ceria was not so young as to grumble that her blood, sweat, and tears went unacknowledged. Still, she often harbored such thoughts when she saw people who only looked at results.

Had they ever swung a sword with the same desperation as she did?

Ever since her father cast out the mother who bore her, her days in the Yuridina Clan had been like a survival competition.

To avoid being cast out, she had to prove her worth, and only after she began to excel in swordsmanship could she finally bear the surname ‘Yuridina.’

She had nothing. Even the bloodline of Yuridina that she was forcefully tethered to from birth would disappear once it ceased to serve a purpose.

To survive, she cut away everything.

In the jungles of the Southern Kingdoms, it was said that mysterious lizardmen lived. In that place, teeming with poisonous insects and deadly plants, the lizardmen developed peculiar behaviors to survive.

Specifically, if an arm, leg, or tail were poisoned, they would sever that part. It was to preserve their lives before the poison spread throughout their bodies.

With time, arms, legs, and tails would regrow, but once life was lost, it could never be regained again. Some might criticize it as a humiliating existence, but young Ceria admired that story.

To survive, one must do exactly that. So, she had long ago cut away everything unnecessary.

Hobbies, excess sleep, human relationships, and even desires and affections.

What emerged from melting away and discarding all those extraneous elements was a single famed blade named ‘Ceria Yuridina.’ Naturally, it differed qualitatively from other swordsmen, and it had to.

Of course, no matter how much she wanted to cut away reality, there were some things that simply could not be shed.

At times, she would feel so lonely that she would sulk all day, yearning for unconditional affection and recognition.

However, it was already too late. For someone who hadn’t gone through the normal socialization process, human relationships were an immensely complicated issue.

The more so, she delved deeper into the world of the sword. When she wielded her sword, at least she could disregard outside troubles. She could even forget about herself.

Living such a life, it was only natural that she began her mornings with swinging a sword. In that moment, inhaling the cold air of dawn while wielding her sword, Ceria’s heart was more serene than ever.

That day, if that man hadn’t suddenly entered her training area…

Ceria, focused on her training, flinched at the sudden presence. Her bewildered eyes turned towards her back.

This place was a secluded area of the Academy’s forest. Among them, it was an open space that was not well-known to people.

At least, when she frequented this place every day, there were rarely any signs of presence from the morning. The camping club had only come once or twice, prompting her to relocate her training spot.

What left Ceria more flustered was that the presence was much closer than she expected.

Ceria was not only skilled in swordsmanship but also possessed an impressive amount of magical power. Since childhood, through various real battles, she had become adept at controlling it.

When one reaches such a level, senses become incomparably sharper, and whether consciously or unconsciously, a thin veil of magical awareness is always cast to detect potential threats in her surroundings.

Yet now, Ceria had not even noticed someone approaching so near to her. This indicated one of two things.

Either the opponent was vastly stronger than Ceria, or they had intentionally concealed their presence.

In that moment, she hesitated. If this were an ambush, would it be better to strike first?

However, Ceria’s concerns were soon proven to be unfounded. The man who had trudged into the clearing glanced at Ceria briefly, then continued walking to the center of the clearing with an indifferent expression.

And he drew his sword. Not towards anyone in particular, but merely towards the void.

He seemed to be there to practice swinging his sword, just like her. Although Ceria had not withdrawn her vigilant gaze, she soon realized that the man’s face was somehow familiar.

With black hair and gold eyes. He was one of the seniors in her classes.

His name was Ian, wasn’t it? She recalled him having a softer impression, but today he emanated a somewhat sharp demeanor.

More than that, the depth of fatigue lingering in his eyes.

Those intense eyes, swirling with emotion, were enough to give a chilling sensation. The moment Ceria met that gaze, she felt her blood freeze like a mouse in front of a cat.

They were eyes of a killer. Eyes possessed only by those who had taken countless lives and showed no hesitation in taking another’s.

Ceria’s body jerked. The instinct to direct her blade towards him rose within her. It was a warning conveyed by the survival instincts honed over many years.

However, the man paid no attention to Ceria; he merely swung his sword a few times.

With a whoosh, the air tore, and the sword traced a peculiar trajectory.

At first, it was a simple and linear path. Yet, as the trajectories overlapped, an increasingly intricate path began to form.

It was a spectacle akin to magic. Ceria watched, entranced, as he demonstrated his swordsmanship for several minutes.

She was a swordsman too. Naturally, she took pride in her ability to discern the skills of her opponent.

Thus, she was even more bewildered. Assuming she stood before him on that path of swords, how long would it take for her to be defeated?

Ten exchanges? No, it could be even fewer. The clash of swords was akin to fleeting calculations. Even from afar, like this, the openings were not clearly visible. In real combat, it would go without saying.

But that couldn’t be possible.

She had seen his swordsmanship a few times while attending lectures. Back then, his technique had been solidly basic, but nothing more.

Was it an illusion? Just as she was inwardly muttering that.

“……Ceria Yuridina.”

“Y-yes?!”

She was startled by the voice calling her name and ended up biting her tongue as she responded.

She felt like she could die of embarrassment. Her face flushed bright red, and soon her head bowed.

Perhaps it was because it had been so long since she had shared a conversation. Nowadays, it was rare to even exchange a word in a day.

However, the man did not seem to blame her for her mistake or tease her. He simply spoke, his voice tinged with fatigue.

“There’s a limit to swinging a sword alone. If you can’t rely on anyone, you’ll eventually break.”

He muttered with a hint of lament, then turned around and left the clearing. Until that moment, Ceria stood there dazed.

However, as the man brushed past her, she suddenly caught a whiff of an unpleasant smell.

The smell of alcohol? She followed his retreating figure with her gaze. Come to think of it, his unsteady gait was certainly not normal.

Was he still under the influence of alcohol? The moment this thought crossed her mind, Ceria felt a surge of emotion.

Was he really the one to say there were limits to swinging a sword alone?

A man who had drunkenly swung a sword the night before for the sake of a workout?

Her sword was far more desperate. It was a path she had walked alone because no one understood her, nor did she think she would be understood.

It was foolish. For a moment, she felt embarrassed for being enchanted by that man’s sword.

Looking back, there was a term for people like him.

After fuming and grumbling for a while, she finally remembered the word she was trying to recall.

Right, he was a ‘paternalistic old man.’ Senior Ian was a ‘paternalistic old man!’

Though she didn’t know the precise meaning, she recalled that people had called those who made annoying unsolicited advice ‘paternalistic old men.’ Thus, Senior Ian was indeed one.

How dare he belittle someone else’s efforts, Ceria gritted her teeth and resumed swinging her sword.

However, that day, her connection with the man did not end there.

During swordsmanship practice time, Professor Derek of the Swordsmanship Department gathered the students and announced in a booming voice.

“Today, we will pair up for the sake of interaction between seniors and juniors!”

At those words, the atmosphere among the students turned subtle. Though the Academy valued skill above all, school was still school. There was no junior who wouldn’t feel uneasy about pairing with a stranger senior.

Of course, it was the same for Ceria. She had placed her human relationships aside from the beginning. Pairing with someone she didn’t know would surely be an awkward and painful time.

However, Professor Derek, a legendary adventurer who had hunted formidable monsters while traversing treacherous terrains, placed great importance on camaraderie. Rumor had it that even in his fifties, he was haunted by memories of fallen comrades at the sight of his rugged scars.

Regardless of the students’ objections, it was unlikely he would retract his decision. Ceria sighed inwardly.

Even if they paired up, it would merely allow her to ignore her partner and train alone. Just as she managed to console herself like that, she was soon to face an even more difficult situation.

Ironically, her paired partner turned out to be that man from the morning.

“Ian Fercurus.” Only then did she fully learn his name. Of course, it was not with any positive sentiment. Ceria’s mood from this morning had remained sour.

Perhaps that was why. Even though she was already known as ‘Yuridina’s brat,’ her response was even more brazen.

“I don’t want to train with you, senior.”

She bluntly tossed those words out as if stating a very obvious fact.

“I don’t think it’ll be very helpful. With your level of skill, somehow.”

At her words, the atmosphere around her stiffened momentarily. And after a brief pause, the sounds of tongue-clicking and sighing came, as if to signal they had expected this.

Ceria realized, after speaking, that she had gone too far.

It was always like this. She wished to speak more gently, but being inexperienced in human relationships, she often blurted out overly honest statements.

Of course, her resentment towards the ‘paternalistic senior’ had also played a part.

Just as expected, the laughter of ‘Yuridina’s brat’ sounded, as if this was only natural, but Ceria diligently ignored them.

Anyway, everything other than swordsmanship was meaningless. As she consoled herself like that.

However, the actual subject of those atrocious remarks, Ian, merely stared at Ceria in silence. Perhaps he was too shocked; just as someone was about to step up to comfort him, at that moment.

“Come with me.”

His words came out suddenly. In fact, that one phrase had an even greater impact than Ceria’s outburst.

The man gestured towards the training arena at the center of the swordsmanship training area and said.

“……Let’s see how things go.”

Who was testing whom? Was Ceria testing Ian? Or was Ian testing Ceria?

Looking solely at their revealed skills, it would seem the former, but meeting Ian’s gaze now, Ceria had no such thoughts.

Those golden eyes, filled only with fatigue, were inscrutable.

That gaze felt as if he looked down on her.

“……Fine.”

Ceria gritted her teeth and spoke.

That marked the beginning of an incident that would shake the Academy.

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