Rhode lay sprawled on the rooftop, curiously watching his younger brother learn swordsmanship under a strange woman.

He’d never seen her before—she was a complete stranger.

Why the rooftop? Simple: Rhode figured this spot offered the best view, and the scenery was absolutely fantastic.

Whether he’d get scolded later? Another matter entirely.

“Hey, kid. Stop gawking. Time you learned something too,” the Black Sword grumbled.

This dagger was named the “Black Key,” but the self-aware spirit inside despised the title and insisted on being called the Black Sword.

Just remember: the weapon is the Black Key; the grumpy old man within is the Black Sword.

“Eh… I just wanna swing a dagger,” Rhode muttered, clearly reluctant.

Muttering to himself like that, he really did look like a slightly unhinged little kid.

“Still don’t get it? I’m not talking about some longsword. Use *me*—the dagger in your hand,” the Black Sword huffed irritably.

“Master even the basics, and it’ll be plenty for your dagger work. You’re such an idiot—having a treasure trove like me and not using it.” The old man inside scoffed, dripping with disdain.

*Way too weak. Pathetically so.*

“Now?”

“Wake up. I can’t exactly pop out,” the Black Sword snapped. “I mean *while you’re asleep*.”

“Oh, right…” Rhode finally remembered—he could enter the Mind Manifest Realm during sleep.

Basically like a dream you actually recall.

“Someone as utterly ordinary as you? This is the only way you won’t embarrass yourself,” the Black Sword added, tongue sharp as a blade.

And he wasn’t wrong. Rhode hadn’t shown talent anywhere yet. “Ordinary” fit.

Still, the Black Sword believed no one was truly talentless—only undiscovered.

*Maybe this kid’ll surprise me someday. I’d enjoy that.*

“Well then, I’ll go read,” Rhode declared.

After staying up late catching crows yesterday, he was exhausted and just wanted leisure.

The Black Sword stayed silent. He was a sword, not a guardian.

“Normally, people scold me for saying stuff like that,” Rhode remarked oddly.

“Why would I? I’m not your guardian. Even if you’re a waste of space, not my problem.”

“You’re just the guy who happens to qualify as my master.”

No rule said a Mind Manifest Realm’s master had to be exceptional.

“But right now? You probably can’t even open the Realm a second time.”

“Why?”

“No reason. If you can’t, you can’t.”

Rhode pursed his lips and moved to climb down—lingering too long meant getting caught.

After Shilo finished training, he still needed to carry him for a couple laps.

Alas, before he could descend, he was spotted.

“Hey. You. Kid on the roof.” Felisha crooked a finger toward him.

Rhode pointed at himself, head practically brimming with question marks.

“Yes, *you*—the sneaky little one,” Felisha confirmed with a nod.

Shilo followed her gaze and instantly spotted his ever-mischievous older brother.

With a sigh, he covered his face in exasperation.

Rhode nimbly climbed down and cautiously approached.

“What’s your relation to him?” Felisha had expected a suspicious figure, not a boy identical to Shilo.

“He’s my brother… twin brother,” Shilo replied.

“Don’t your parents supervise this kid?” Felisha asked, puzzled.

“Uh…” Shilo went speechless.

“Ahem…” Rhode cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Can I help you… Miss?” he tried.

“‘Sis’ is fine—but why the doubtful tone?” Felisha grabbed him one-handed without hesitation.

Rhode dangled helplessly.

“Uh… maybe you’re a well-preserved *big* sister?” Rhode stressed the word deliberately.

“You two brothers are alike,” Felisha said, setting him down.

*Both sharp-witted. Annoyingly cute little shota.*

“You want to learn too?” Felisha assumed he’d been peeking out of interest.

“Nope. Just waiting for Shilo,” Rhode shook his head vigorously.

*Honestly, if the old man in the Black Sword hadn’t mentioned handy dagger tricks tucked away, I wouldn’t bother.*

“The way you look at swords… you dislike them,” Felisha observed, eyes sharp.

A sword fanatic through and through—she had zero patience for sword-haters.

“How could that be…” Rhode let out an awkward chuckle.

“Kid. You’re Shilo’s older brother, right?”

“Uh… yes.” Rhode blinked, thrown off.

“Shilo. Spar with your brother. Use the basics I just taught you.” Felisha patted Shilo’s back.

“But my brother isn’t good at this!” Shilo objected quickly.

“I’m not asking you to kill him. And he’s not as hopeless as you think.”

“What do you mean?” Shilo frowned.

*He thinks his brother’s amazing—just not in combat…*

“Literal meaning.” Felisha wouldn’t elaborate.

*Did I imagine it?* She’d sensed a faint, battle-hardened aura from this ten-year-old noble—like someone who’d fiercely slain enemies.

Too faint. Maybe she needed a drink.

“Oh, and use real swords.” She tossed a practice blade to Rhode.

Shilo already held his.

“Teacher Felisha, this feels wrong,” Shilo pleaded.

“With me here? Neither of you can kill the other,” she said calmly.

The brothers fell silent. *This teacher’s intense—casually saying “kill”?*

“Fine. Just don’t wreck me,” Rhode resigned himself. “Shilo, don’t beat me so bad I can’t turn book pages later.”

*Did anyone think Rhode’d suddenly outclass Shilo?*

Hah. Rhode didn’t believe it himself.

Brace for the beating.