Please Kill Me - Chapter 35
“……I never did that.”
“I thought maybe it broke because it was time for it to rot.”
“It was a mistake. I apologize for showing such a rough state.”
“No, it’s not that bad……”
Yekaterina responded dryly, stroking the end of the wooden sword. Her ethereal voice seemed contemplative, or perhaps dreamily sleepy, as if talking to herself. Maybe it was because Yekaterina never looked at her partner while talking.
A dreamer chasing butterflies, seemingly uninterested in the other person.
To Vasily, who valued manners, such a Yekaterina did not seem favorable.
‘I see no need for conversation.’
He didn’t want to engage in a conversation with her, the cause of his current self-doubt.
Vasily walked as quickly as possible towards the opposite side of Yekaterina. Hopefully, she won’t try to speak anymore if he distances himself.
“Is this the only training ground in Rostislav?”
“……”
“Offenbach has about three training grounds for different purposes, but it seems Rostislav only has one.”
“There’s another one for the use of the Knights. The main estate has about five better ones.”
He didn’t intend to respond, but mentioning Offenbach made him retort impulsively.
‘Damn it.’
Vasily cursed inside and changed his course. Simply walking away seemed not to be enough.
He pretended to organize the weapons and ignored her.
Vasily dumped the wooden swords in the bin without a second thought.
But there were quick hands that gathered them up.
Naturally, it was Yekaterina.
She organized the wooden swords efficiently and handed them back to Vasily, not forgetting to ask again.
“Does the estate also have a monster arena? Offenbach has one, and it’s perfect for training.”
“……Are you talking about an illegal fighting ring now?”
“It’s perfect for training since no one complains even if one side dies.”
“Miss.”
Vasily eventually couldn’t hold back and his voice carried a note of intimidation.
“This is Rostislav. Do not mention Offenbach in front of me again.”
It was an insult to compare Offenbach with Rostislav in front of a knight of Rostislav, the proud swore of the Empire. The comparison seemed to degrade Rostislav to a garbage dump……
“Right. The training grounds of Rostislav are underwhelming.”
“Miss!”
“I didn’t mention Offenbach.”
Yekaterine blinked, as if she didn’t understand why he was angry. Anyone else listening to this conversation would say Vasily’s anger was justified.
But Yekaterina seemed utterly unaware of this with her innocent face.
Her pretty face expressed as much indifference as her words.
“Accepting the truth is the first step to improvement. Hiding it doesn’t lead to progress.”
Vasily took a deep breath. This Miss in front of him was a guest. He had been instructed to treat her with respect. A guest… a guest…
“……I have no intention to hide anything. Rostislav’s main estate also has excellent training grounds.”
“But there’s no monster fighting arena.”
“……”
Vasily wondered for a moment if the Miss in front of him was playing some sort of joke on him. However, Yekaterina’s face lacked any smile.
She was asking seriously.
“How do you develop your men’s killing skills without an arena? Just swinging wooden swords isn’t enough to kill anything. Only the harshness of reality without any shields can truly sharpen a person.”
“People are not weapons. The reason Rostislav teaches the sword is not for that purpose!”
“Then why?”
“To protect oneself, and through training, to become a better person.”
“But to protect yourself, there comes a time when you must strike someone down. Only those who survive can be called better people.”
No one listens to the justice preached by the weak. It’s just an excuse and hypocrisy of the powerless.
Only the strong have the opportunity to defend themselves, and only those who survive can prove themselves.
That was the justice Yekaterina had learned. And it was unlikely to change in the future.
And that was also why she came here, to ensure that proof does not rust.
Yekaterina straightened up.
“If there’s an unsoaked wooden sword, could I have one? Oak would be better.”
“They’re all the same wooden swords.”
Vasily replied gruffly and tossed a wooden sword to her.
He didn’t forget to throw a sneer at Yekaterina, who was quietly inspecting the blade of the wooden sword.
“Are you going to compare the wooden swords to Offenbach too?”
“I’m just stating facts. Is there a problem with that?”
“The fact right now is-“
Vasily abruptly stopped mid-sentence. Before their conversation could end, Yekaterina, who had taken the wooden sword, dashed off.
She began to knock down—or rather, attack—the straw dummies arranged in a zigzag pattern across the training ground.
The first dummy was struck at the lower part. Jumping and using the arm of the dummy to change direction, Yekaterina leapt again, striking down the second dummy directly.
Straw flew from where the sword cut.
