The Smile Beneath The Sheath

The Next Morning

Inside the pill building of the Braymhch family.

“What! So many herbs, just for that trash young master.”

Hearing the commotion, some idle family members wandered into the building. The old butler calmly looked at the white-bearded elder who was raising a ruckus. As more people began to gather, the butler slipped his hand into his robe and brought out a seal.

“Elder Ken, I didn’t know the family head’s seal no longer held authority—or that you would dare defy it.”

At the sight of the seal, the white-bearded elder shuddered.

“Not at all! I didn’t realize it was for the family head. I wouldn’t dare refuse otherwise.”

With a forced smile, the elder ordered his men to gather the requested herbs and then respectfully returned the seal.

The old butler collected it and stood in silence, waiting, while the crowd dispersed—no one daring to linger after seeing the family head’s seal—a few of the direct descendants of other elders chose to remain, curious to see what would happen. The butler noticed them but said nothing. After several minutes, the herbs were brought over.

The elder handed them to the butler with a polite nod, as though apologizing for the delay. The old butler, seeing everyone’s misunderstanding, chose not to correct it.

“It’s better if the young master shocks them himself,” he thought, and left the building, heading toward the young master’s courtyard.

When he reached the gates, he slowed his pace his head lowered once more before pushing the wooden door, and entering.

Inside the courtyard, a boy stood at the same spot holding a wooden sword while repeating the same downward slash repeatedly. He swung downward again and again, each strike starting slow and finishing fast. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but he did not stop. The wooden sword trembled with each blow, due to the resistance in the air.

Then the boy noticed the opened gate, glancing over briefly and seeing the old butler carrying a bag of herbs, he took a deep breath, then resumed training as if nothing had happened.

The butler, realizing the young master didn't want to be disturbed quietly went inside the house. Placing the herbs near the inner room, and went to brew some tea. After a while, Galahad walked towards him.

The butler stood near a bench beneath a tree. Sitting down, Galahad accepted the cup offered to him, drinking slowly before exhaling a faint mist.

“How refreshing. I didn’t know you could make tea.”

The butler bowed slightly.

“You flatter me, young master. As one grows older, you pick up a thing or two.”

As Galahad sipped his tea elegantly, the butler thought to himself:

“Is it just me, or does the young master look different now? More… striking. Before, his aura blended with the surroundings, nearly invisible. Now it feels like a sheathed sword, waiting to be drawn.”

He shook his head.

“No, perhaps I just wasn’t paying attention before.”

Before he could dwell on it further, Galahad spoke.

“So, what message has my father sent?”

Looking toward the rising sun, Galahad blew gently on his tea. The butler, pulled from his thoughts, refilled his cup before replying,

“How perceptive of you, young master. The lord said that if you can pass the Royal Academy entrance test, he will grant you a gift.”

Galahad tilted his head towards him, then focused on blowing his tea. After taking another sip, he rose, picked up his wooden sword, and said,

“The minimum requirement to even attempt that test is the Spirit Actualization stage. Some geniuses might even reach the Divine Body stage by then. Taking first place will not be easy.”

The butler froze, stunned by the absurdity in the young master words. Stuttering he hurriedly corrected the young master thoughts.

“F-First place, young master? No, no, the lord only said entering the academy is enough.”

The courtyard fell silent. Even the rustling leaves seemed refrained from moving. Galahad turned slowly, his eyes narrowed while a bright smile formed on his lips.

“Are you saying you want me to settle for less than first place?”

His voice grew colder with every sentence. Step by step, he approached the butler and lightly patted his shoulder before turning away. Instantly, the suffocating atmosphere dispersed.

“Go and relay my words to my father,” Galahad said, his tone calm once again. “Also, for three months, I will enter secluded cultivation. Once that time is over, you and I will set out on a journey to temper my sword heart.”

With that, he resumed swinging his sword.

The old butler bowed deeply and quietly left the courtyard. When he closed the gate behind him, his body trembled, his back drenched in sweat.

“What was that aura the young master emitted? I was right his presence changed, just like a sword that was unsheathed.Terrifying… And that smile—it was so much like the lord’s. Even though I’m in the Divine Body Realm, I felt fear.”

Taking a deep breath, the butler’s figure blurred as he moved toward the majestic building at the heart of the Braymhch family estate. But this time, his aura was clearly unsettled.

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