That sergeant instructor from the Militia hadn't lied to me. The right experience could save your life at a critical moment.
If it hadn't been for that month of intensive training, I probably wouldn't have been able to dodge that fatal slash in my sleep just now. The sudden attack had sparked lightning-fast alertness and yanked me awake from my deep dream. When I opened my eyes and saw that sharp longsword, an icy chill that reached straight into my lungs rose from the depths of my heart—
That had been terrifying!
But to be honest, I had no idea how I'd managed to react in time. Perhaps it was instinct forged through long-term training. At the last possible moment, I turned my head, and the sword stabbed past my ear.
At the last possible moment—
Only then did I see Bromanto's Black Rose emblem on the gleaming steel longsword. It had been set into a square iron plate. I froze for a moment before recognizing it. "Madara's Undead Army!" It was as though a basin of cold water had been poured over my head, snapping me fully awake. Damn it, how had these things gotten here?
I clearly remembered that I was vacationing in an old house in the countryside near Buchi. It was a property my grandfather had left behind before he died. After getting the old man's permission, I had been staying here temporarily and helping him look after the place.
My mother was from Cardilego. That was probably the only blood in my veins even remotely close to noble blood. My father, however, was merely an ordinary miller. He hadn't even fought in the famous November War and received the Candlelight Medal like my grandfather had. He was just an honest, upright middle-aged man.
And me?