Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

Several courses were served in succession.

Each dish was adorned with various flowers, either as decoration or key ingredients. For dessert, a refreshing sorbet sprinkled with tiny flower petals was presented.

After eating like this, the fragrance of flowers lingered in my mouth and seemed to envelop my body.

Although this trip to the botanical garden stemmed from a mischievous desire to chase after Marianne, I felt immensely gratified as I wandered with the children, admiring beautiful sights and savoring delicious food.

When I suggested we return to the botanical garden another time, everyone readily agreed with a smile.

After finishing our meal, we toured other greenhouses and then stepped outside as the lights began to illuminate one by one. The cool breeze of a summer evening was refreshing.

The outdoor garden, named the Flower Terrace Garden, was open and spacious, a stark contrast to the greenhouses, offering a different kind of charm.

Gentle music drifted from a distance across the tranquil garden.

We walked along the well-maintained paths. The children, who had been chatting and laughing nonstop until then, quieted down, mindful of their footsteps and breaths.

The sight of fireflies flitting away in clusters, only to timidly return to their places, was dazzling.

It felt as though the darkness descending from the heavens had deliberately spared this particular place.

How could such a splendid scene exist in the mortal world? I took three steps and paused, then two steps and paused again. With no one urging me to move along, I fully immersed myself in the view, engraving it into my heart.

The well-tended flowers swayed gently in the breeze, releasing their fragrances.

For a moment, I held my breath.

In the distance, I caught sight of a familiar girl with violet hair. She was smiling brightly.

It was as if all the stars in the world had been gathered and placed into her eyes, and all the happiness in the world had been bundled into her embrace.

The ornament on her head and the elaborate dress she wore were overshadowed by her radiant smile, which became firmly imprinted in my mind.

So, a person could look at another person like that.

It wasn’t that I suddenly saw Marianne Philodendore as a woman. I wasn’t naive enough to entertain such a misunderstanding.

I was simply astonished by her smile, which left even the observer speechless, and I couldn’t calm my startled heart.

Although I couldn’t hear Marianne’s chatter over the music, I could see the boy seated before her listening attentively, occasionally nodding. Marianne let out a bright laugh and placed her hand on his shoulder.

I stood there, transfixed, watching the scene.

Someone quietly tugged at my sleeve, guiding me away without a word.

Even as we walked away, I looked back several times. If one were to give form to happiness, surely it would look just like that.

Even if I had stood alone atop a mountain of ten thousand peaks and struck down the Demon Cult leader, I wouldn’t have smiled as joyfully as she did.

If that was love, then perhaps I too…

For the first time, I became curious about what it felt like to harbor romantic feelings.

Reverence and respect were emotions my mind could grasp, but romantic love—its searing warmth and radiance—was utterly foreign to me throughout my life. This realization filled me with a quiet sorrow.

The other children seemed to share similar sentiments, as the walk out of the garden remained hushed.

When we reached the main road, where the orchestra’s music grew louder, one child suddenly broke the silence. I was still dazed and absent-minded, so their words didn’t register immediately.

“…I’ve never seen Marianne smile like that before.”

“Me neither… though I suppose it makes sense.”

“I see. She’s in love, isn’t she?”

I had planned to interfere if her partner seemed unworthy, but there was no point after witnessing that scene.

As the children giggled over such thoughts, their voices floated past my ears.

They chattered about how seeing Marianne like that made them want to fall in love too, but how difficult it was to find the right person. They even joked about introducing friends to one another.

Allowing the children to tug me along, I wandered the dark garden a bit longer before we boarded the carriage and headed back.

Even on the way home, I remained in a daze, barely registering the children’s cheerful voices and playful jokes. Someone teased that love would find its way to me someday, but I couldn’t manage to laugh in response, feeling a little sorry for that.

—

On Saturday, I still couldn’t shake the image of Marianne from my mind.

Perhaps I appeared distracted because when I ran into Ruber at the library, he approached cautiously. Reassuring him that I was fine, I returned to my reading materials.

I thought to myself that perhaps this ignorance of romantic love was simply because I had never kept a woman close in my past life. Did those who had lovers truly live their lives exchanging such joy and happiness?

A sense of having wasted my life nagged at me in clumsy, unsightly bursts.

For a moment, I considered asking Ruber about it, but I already knew he wasn’t in a relationship either. Fearing it might feel awkward or frivolous, I brought up a different topic instead.

“I’m finding it hard to focus today. I think I’ll spend the afternoon training with my sword.”

“Oh. I was thinking the same… How about sparring together?”

“Sounds good.”

Ruber’s eyes lit up, and he eagerly suggested training together, which I readily agreed to.

After a quick meal, we headed straight to the training grounds.

Hearing about our sparring session, the other children moved aside, leaving us a spacious area to ourselves.

Familiar with Ruber’s skill level, I didn’t hesitate to meet his strikes head-on.

We clashed, darting and charging at one another, each blow met with unyielding resistance. At times, I overpowered him; at others, I was pushed back and rolled across the ground.

When I lowered my stance and swung a heavy strike, Ruber met it with the same force, his sword solid and unrelenting.

After sweating it out all afternoon, the turmoil in my heart had subsided somewhat.

The ache deep in my chest from wielding the sword to exhaustion was oddly satisfying. In my past life, the only pure joy I knew was the act of wielding a sword.

I came to understand why I had resolved to live my life alone without taking a lover.

It was because only then could I live righteously.

Though I bore the Namgung name despite not being a direct descendant, I had the privilege of aspiring to great heights and honing my swordsmanship. But a life of abundant wealth and luxury was never mine.

I’d slept under the sky, using the ground as my bed more times than I could count, yet I’d never stepped into a grand, opulent pavilion to indulge in extravagance.

I simply trained diligently and quietly with my sword, deriving joy from the praise of my elders as a child. Later, I met peers who admired my swordsmanship and struck up conversations with me. During my journey as a warrior, I took pride in seeing tales of my deeds spread from one inn to another.

I believed that a life untempted by what was visible was the righteous path.

It was a matter I had already deemed beyond my reach and given up on, yet now I found myself reconsidering it.

The fact that I had repeatedly told myself not to be swayed suggested that I had, at some point, been tempted.

As a human being, how could I not envy fine clothes and good food? I had merely convinced myself I could not have them, recoiling preemptively.

I’d heard that the lovers of Sioren take pride in cherishing and loving each other.

Indeed, it seemed something to be proud of.

Just as I took pride in my sword and stepped onto the training grounds to showcase my skill, I felt that encountering such a beautiful emotion and keeping it to oneself was not something ordinary people could endure.

I abandoned the notion that connecting with someone emotionally was unbefitting for me.

Though I couldn’t immediately open my heart to anyone, I firmly resolved never to dismiss or turn away from such feelings should they find me.

As I panted for breath, Ruber handed me a towel and some water, for which I thanked him.

Despite the sparring being an outlet to calm my turmoil, I had swung my sword mercilessly, yet Ruber accepted every strike without complaint. His quiet resilience was a comfort.

The sky was clear and blue. Only then did I notice the sunlight pouring down with a searing intensity.

Even after three hours of swinging our swords since midday, Ruber, though drenched in sweat, tried to mask his fatigue. His pale face and the back of his neck glistened with sweat.

“…Goodness.”

“Feeling better now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Instead of asking what had been troubling me, Ruber cautiously suggested we rest for a moment. I led him to a familiar shaded spot under a tree. When Ruber chuckled softly, I asked why, and he responded as he settled down, adjusting his sword.

“I was just reminded of a time we sat here like this before.”

“Hmm.”

It struck me that the very training ground where I had once followed the principles of the Three Calamities to calm my mind was the same place we had sparred today.

The difference now was that it was broad daylight, and instead of standing at the edge of the grounds enduring alone, I had sparred fiercely in the center with someone by my side.

As I fell silent, gazing up at the branches and green leaves overhead, Ruber, quiet until now, gave a soft laugh and adjusted his disheveled appearance.

Even in a brief rest like this, his attention to his appearance reminded me of a crow preening its feathers—it was endearing.

A sudden curiosity arose. It was something I should have asked a semester ago, but before I could, Ruber seemed to read my hesitation and asked gently, “What’s on your mind?”

“I was just wondering… back then, why were you troubled?”

“Oh, that time. Well…”

He hesitated, scratching his face with a sheepish laugh. I leaned against the tree, studying his expression in silence.

After a while, Ruber laughed softly through his fingers, offering a weightless answer.

“To be honest, I don’t really remember anymore.”

“I see.”

I knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

Back then, I hadn’t been curious or upset at all. But now, I found myself both curious and a little resentful.

I’d grown fond of this boy who always stayed close and kindly looked after me whenever I was troubled. Not wanting to press the issue, I let it go.

When I didn’t reply immediately, Ruber looked up at the sky and tossed out a lighthearted joke.

“Shall we look for stars and head back?”

“In broad daylight?”

“They say the stars are always there, even during the day. If you look carefully…”

I knew he was just saying something to lift my spirits.

In the end, I laughed and replied, “Let’s do that.” We sat for a while, gazing up at the sky. From time to time, passing students greeted us, and we returned their smiles.

Even after washing off the sweat, a lingering sense of envy left me feeling restless. But thanks to Ruber’s efforts, I felt better than I had that morning.

It wasn’t something I needed to dwell on immediately. I decided to postpone it for another time and let it fade from my thoughts.

Thanks to that, I spent a calm and uneventful Sunday focused on my studies.