Please Kill Me - Chapter 37
However, such feelings weren’t unique to her alone.
Leonid was equally surprised.
‘I just wanted to clear my head with some physical activities.’
And there, in the training grounds he sought solace in, was Yekaterina herself.
Especially considering the swift attack she had just demonstrated.
‘I did see a bit yesterday, but…’
It was beyond expectation.
Her movements were fast, yet easily recognizable. Yekaterina aimed precisely at the vital points with each strike. Her actions were swift and simultaneously serene.
Swift doesn’t merely imply speed in attack.
It means there’s no superfluous movement.
There wasn’t a single flicker of hesitation in her gaze or motion. It wouldn’t have surprised Leonid if she performed small, quick movements; any competent swordsman could do that. But Yekaterina didn’t even breathe heavily while executing large, sweeping moves.
It was as if time paused, allowing only her to move in that overpowering moment.
‘She’s definitely different from us.’
It felt unintentionally like he had gained a spy.
Leonid swore he had no intention of prying into Yekaterina’s family secrets or her capabilities. He swore on the seal of Rostislav.
But when she displayed her skills so openly, how could he not notice? Even if one tries not to pay attention, it’s impossible to ignore what’s happening right before their eyes.
“Did you do that on purpose, hoping I’d see?”
“People tend to become overly self-conscious about the things they like.”
“I misspoke.”
Damned by that misunderstanding, he found himself at a loss for words.
Leonid sighed and approached her.
“Let me ask, Yekaterina. Is that how they teach you at Offenbach?”
What does he mean by ‘that’? Yekaterina stood still, blinking rapidly in confusion.
Catching the question written all over her face, Leonid sighed deeply.
“I mean, do they primarily teach you in assassination?”
“Isn’t it always like this?”
“Not really.”
Leonid picked up a real sword from the collection, not one for training. Since he was supposed to be acting as if his right hand was injured, he held it in his left.
Yekaterina’s eyes sparkled with interest at the sight of him wielding the sword in his left hand. How much strength could this man muster with just his left?
“What you’re doing is usually efficient in one-on-one combat.”
Meaning it’s inefficient for anything other than killing large monsters or assassinating someone.
The reason was simple.
“The style you use expends too much energy for one against many. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re right.”
That’s why, in those situations, instead of relying on killing, the focus shifts to using martial arts for evasion and control, similar to how it was when escaping the slaughterhouse.
However, the way Yekaterina had just dealt with the dummies was slightly different from that time.
Suppressing breath and footsteps while swiftly attacking only the vital points.
The weapons she primarily uses are daggers, at most as long as an arm including the handle.
Seeing Yekaterina wield a sword, it’s likely the assassins from Offenbach employ a similar method.
‘I’d like to spar with her.’
If he hadn’t seen it, he might have overlooked it, but now that he had, he was intrigued. Leonid was curious about the swordsmanship taught in Offenbach. Without fighting Yekaterina, he might never get another chance to witness Offenbach’s sword techniques.
After all, if it’s just a spar, there’s no real danger since the aim isn’t to kill.
“Yekaterina, do you know how to use a longsword?”
“I do.”
“Take one.”
Normally, Ekaterina, who acts bluntly and without much thought, seemed to understand perfectly this time. She shook her head in refusal.
“I don’t spar with injured people. I might end up killing them.”
“Sorry for underestimating you.”
Leonid replied nonchalantly and raised the sword. Though it’s typically wielded with both hands, Leonid held it steadily in one.
He had that strength, and he had that skill.
Since the day Leonid faced a first grade monster alone, he had never known defeat.
The handicap of only being able to use his left hand was, in a way, a factor that evened the playing field.
Of course, losing wouldn’t be too upsetting. If it meant experiencing something new, that was fine by him.
After a moment of contemplation, Leonid had an idea.
“How about a bet, Yekaterina?”
“A bet?”
“Yes. The loser fulfills one request of the winner.”
Clang! As soon as the words were spoken, their blades met.
The bet was on.
* * *
Leonid admitted to himself, albeit briefly, that he had been arrogant.
‘Her strength wasn’t just bravado.’
Clang! The sound of clashing swords occasionally filled the training ground. The rustle of clothing was more pronounced than their breathing, indicating the silent intensity of their duel.
Even Vasily, who was watching from the sidelines, was left speechless by their exchange.
Leonid was blocking Yekaterina’s two daggers with just his left hand. Unlike Leonid, who unwittingly exerted more effort, Yekaterina’s face as she slashed through the air with her daggers was utterly serene.
