"What… happened to me?"

I’d barely staggered past the trial when the world went black. I came to on a floor smooth as a mirror-lake, cold light pooling under my cheek. Xinuo crouched beside me, bored as a cat, pinching my face with dragonfly-light fingers.

She really likes pinching my cheeks. Why? The thought pricked like a thorn. I mean, I do love kneading my little sister’s soft, dumpling-cute face… but still.

Wait. Hold on. My spirit felt bright as dawn on new snow—better than before the trial, better by far. The sensation was clean, fierce—like shedding an old skin and stepping out reborn.

"Uh… Xinuo, how long have I been out?"

Her fingers kept playing with my face. I hesitated between sitting up or just… letting her be.

"Not long. Maybe a bit over an hour. And your cheeks get comfier the more I pinch. You’re a boy, yet…"

"Uh, that’s probably the clan’s genes…"

The Mizumi Clan was founded by our ancestor and his many consorts, so the balance’s always skewed—women crowding the halls, men rare as spring thunder. In the current head’s line, Mother had six children. I’m the only son. Five sisters. So yeah, my looks lean feminine. I tell myself it’s fine, over and over, like a mantra.

"Makes sense… whatever. It doesn’t matter."

She stood, a ripple of silk, and I hurried to sit up. Then she tossed Shattered Light to me—my hands moved on instinct. If I’d been slower, my nose would’ve met the blade.

"Yumigawa Sumeragi, you passed my trial. From now on, Shattered Light is yours. Also, if you want to become a Sword Wielder, you need to accept one more condition."

"No problem! Just say the word!"

I snapped back without thinking. I’d survived a trial that felt worse than death. What demand could scare me now?

"My last demand is simple—you must become my Servant."

"Servant?"

I blinked. The Mizumi Clan doesn’t do servants. Our maids stand shoulder to shoulder with the clan head—everyone equal, like stones in the same stream. If we don’t have them, how do I even parse the word “Servant”?

"Don’t overthink it. A Servant means you’ll take care of everything in my daily life. Like a personal maid."

Why “maid”? A faint dislike pricked at me, like grit in the eye. I couldn’t name it, so I let it slide.

Besides, taking care of people is what I do best. No sweat. Not even a drop.

"Alright. I’ll give it everything and handle all of your daily needs, Xinuo!"

I thumped my chest, heat in my voice. I can’t boast about much, but caregiving? I’d match anyone in the Mizumi Clan. Even if… yeah, it’s not exactly something a young clan master should brag about.

"Good. That resolve suits you, Servant."

It was the first time anyone had called me “Servant.” The feeling was a knot—tight, complicated. I shook my head, shoved the noise aside, and asked what mattered most now. "Then how do I become a real Sword Wielder?"

"Only after you grasp, at least initially, the Three Swords—swordsmanship, Sword Aura, and Sword Intent—are you qualified."

"Uh… what does that mean?"

"You’ll understand when it’s time. No need to say more. And forget Aura and Intent for now. Your priority is basic swordsmanship. By the way, Servant, do you know what swordsmanship is?"

"Swordsmanship… Qianji Sister once told me it’s the methods and techniques of using a sword?"

I wasn’t sure. It was childhood knowledge, pressed into me like ink in paper. Side note: Qianji Sister is my eldest sister. With a magic talent that borders on outrageous, yet she’s obsessed with swordsmanship and barely cares about magic.

Since fifteen, she’s roamed all over the Central Continent, challenging strong fighters of other races, saying it’s for sword training. These days, catching a glimpse of her is like trying to grab mist.

"That’s right in essence. But can you do it?"

"…No."

Shame warmed my ears. I’d watched Qianji Sister practice countless times as a kid. Learned nothing. Just stood there, starstruck.

"That’s normal. Basic swordsmanship is entry-level. Not much to explain. Practice it yourself."

Her words fell like pebbles into a still pond—then my mind rippled. Knowledge bloomed in my skull, clear lines and stances, the frame of swordsmanship. I raised the Shattered Light Sword and followed the patterns.

Huh? Off. It felt off. No matter how I swung, nothing moved free as water. My body jammed like a rusted hinge—stiff, awkward to the core.

Time dripped away. Minute by minute. In the blink of an eye, two hours were gone.

I kept drilling, breath steady, knuckles white. My movements stayed clumsy, rigid as carved wood. But—my understanding deepened. Less fog, more shape. Not the blurry mess I started with.

"Servant, keep practicing. I’m going out to check on the Mizumi Clan’s situation."

Bored, most likely. Xinuo flicked her fingers, and a door of space split open like a clean cut in silk. She poised to step through.

"Eh—eh?! What am I supposed to do?"

I lowered my blade, hope faltering. I’d wanted pointers. A nudge. Instead, she was leaving. Alone now, I felt like a boat with no oar.

"Keep practicing. Hold your mindset steady. Stop dreaming of one-step ascension—you’re not a mage who can swallow some Divine Elixir and spike their power overnight. A Sword Wielder has no real shortcuts. Effort and talent matter most. Until you fully master basic swordsmanship, I won’t take you out."

She crossed the threshold and vanished, neat as a snuffed candle. No chance to reply. Fair—words wouldn’t help.

I slapped my cheeks, heat shocking my brain awake. Then I set my jaw.

Until I forge basic swordsmanship into bone, I won’t stop. If I don’t pay the price, how would I reap anything? If I can’t lock down something as basic as this, how do I step through the gate of Sword Wielders?

With that thought burning steady, I started again. Inexperience is temporary. If I grind hard enough, and keep my direction true, mastering the basics won’t be far.

…

Central Continent. Near the Mizumi Clan’s main estate, Xinuo walked and let her gaze drink in the land.

"Centuries pass, and the Mizumi Clan’s emptiness stays the same."

Half an hour without a single soul. She shook her head, the motion small. On the largest continent, a clan of barely a hundred—it’s hard not to feel deserted.

Slowly, she tasted Yumigawa Sumeragi’s longing to see the outside world. Staying here too long turns the air dull. Most don’t live at the main estate; they scatter across the Central Continent like seeds on the wind.

Those who still live around the estate probably don’t even hit two digits. She could handle solitude—she’d lived alone for more years than mountains have shadows. But for humans who like the hive-warmth of others, this emptiness cuts cold.

Honestly, compared to the other four continents, the Central Continent feels primitive. Too few in the Mizumi Clan, and outsiders barred at the gates—development withers on the vine.

"Freeloaders, huh…"

She recalled what Sumeragi said before the trial: "I’ve got dreams to chase. I won’t rot at home like a freeloader, living a cushy life."

Xinuo fell into thought. The children of the Mizumi Clan enjoy the Central Continent’s resources under the lingering shelter of the Yugou Sage and her own shadow. Quiet lives, untroubled. From another angle… it does look like freeloading.

Is this really okay? She asked herself. Silence answered.

"Forget it. As long as the world’s peace holds, that’s enough. The Mizumi Clan’s path is their own."

She quit wandering aimlessly and headed for the main estate. Before long, at the front steps, she found a silver-haired little girl, cute as a snowbud.

"Hello."

She greeted without thinking. The silver-haired girl flinched, her gasp bright and sweet—adorable.

"Uh, who are you?! I’ve never seen you at home!"

After the gasp came guarded eyes. The look was so cute Xinuo couldn’t help a soft laugh.

"So beautiful…"

The silver-haired girl stared, spellbound. Her guard eased. In her mind, a girl this lovely couldn’t be bad.

"I’m Xinuo. What’s your name?"

"I—I’m Yumigawa Nozomi!"

Xinuo’s voice chimed like a bell over clear water, and the girl jolted back to herself. Nerves tangled her tongue.

"Yumigawa Nozomi, what’s your relation to my Servant?"

If she lives at the Mizumi Clan’s main estate, she might have a tie to Yumigawa Sumeragi… pointless question, really. Mizumi to Mizumi—of course they’re kin.

"Servant?" Nozomi blinked, puzzled.

"My Servant’s name is Yumigawa Sumeragi."

Xinuo watched, curious, waiting for the next cute expression. That was the only reason she asked.

"Eh—eh!! Xinuo-sis, do you know where my brother is?!"

She didn’t disappoint. First shock, then worry—an open book. She was clearly anxious for Yumigawa Sumeragi.

At the same time, Nozomi grabbed Xinuo’s skirt and tugged, questions spilling like beads. Mm. A little sister who loves her brother very much, Xinuo decided, a simple, warm verdict.