The Heavenly Hero Returns

Chapter 11: A Fitting Sword

The days passed, and despite the rigorous endurance training forced upon you by your ever-irritated brother, one thing remained constant: your endless complaints about that godforsaken sword.

It was too heavy.

It was unwieldy.

It was ugly.

It was a lump of iron better suited for a blacksmith's anvil than a knight's hand.

You complained before training.

You complained during training.

You complained after training, while eating, before bed, and sometimes even in your sleep.

Your brother endured it for the first few days, hoping you'd just tire yourself out. But by the end of the week, as you once again lamented about how barbaric and stupid the family's signature blade was, he finally snapped.

"FINE! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! DISGRACE THE FAMILY! WHAT DO I CARE?!"

His voice echoed through the training hall, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. The other trainees stopped mid-swing, instructors turned their heads, and even the academy staff walking by outside hesitated for a moment.

You, meanwhile, simply blinked at him.

"…So that's a yes to getting rid of it?" you asked, just to be sure.

Your brother's eye twitched so hard it looked like he was about to explode. He turned on his heel and stormed off, muttering about 'ungrateful, insufferable little sisters' and 'family shame'.

That should've been the end of it.

But unfortunately, your persistent complaining had caught another person's attention.

—

Seraphina von Aurelius, the princess of the realm, was not known for her patience.

She had endured much in her short life—tedious diplomatic meetings, suffocating noble expectations, and most of all, the insufferable arrogance of lesser nobles trying to earn her favor.

And yet, nothing had tested her patience quite like Jessica Moran's endless sword complaints.

Day after day, she had been forced to listen to the lowliest noble in the elite class whine, moan, and lament about her sword.

At first, Seraphina ignored it.

Then she tolerated it.

But by the end of the week, when Jessica had begun complaining in class, during mealtimes, and even between duels, the princess finally had enough.

"By the gods, shut up!"

Her voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the room instantly. Every noble within earshot immediately went rigid, terrified of having angered the princess.

You, on the other hand, just looked at her blankly.

Seraphina exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "I am tired of hearing your pathetic, incessant complaints," she said through gritted teeth. "I have heard you more in the last five days than I have heard some of my own retainers in years. Even I cannot tolerate this much whining."

You tilted your head. "So…?"

The princess closed her eyes, as if debating whether or not it was worth wasting her energy on you. Then, with a sigh of exasperation, she pulled out something from her inventory—a sword.

Not just any sword.

A rapier of royal craftsmanship.

Slender. Balanced. Beautiful. The steel gleamed with an expert polish, the hilt adorned with subtle yet intricate engravings. It wasn't just functional—it was elegant.

And she tossed it at you like a piece of trash.

You caught it easily, blinking in mild surprise.

"This was a backup to my backup to my backup sword," Seraphina said dryly. "It is so beneath me that I would rather give it away than keep it."

The nobles gasped at her words. To gift a weapon—even one considered a mere 'backup'—was still a gesture of immense significance. Yet, she spoke as though she was tossing you leftovers from her plate.

"You are a gutter rat among nobles," Seraphina continued, staring you down. "A disgrace to both your family and this academy. But at the very least, you are so pitiful that even I can grant you this much charity."

She crossed her arms, expecting you to grovel with gratitude.

Instead, you simply grinned, holding up the rapier and giving it a few testing swings.

"Oh?" You examined it carefully. The balance was perfect. It was light, sharp, and effortless in your grip. This was your kind of sword.

"Well, well, well," you mused, smirking as you turned back to Seraphina. "Looks like I finally found a sword fit for me."

The princess's eye twitched.

—

The nobles in the elite class had no idea how to react.

Some were offended that you so casually accepted the weapon without proper reverence.

Some were appalled that the princess had even bothered acknowledging your existence.

And some… were just baffled that Seraphina herself had essentially been goaded into giving you a personal weapon.

Your brother, meanwhile, was staring at the rapier in your hands with a mix of resignation and exhaustion.

"You got an elite-tier weapon… by complaining?" he muttered in disbelief.

You turned to him with a smug smile. "I win."

He groaned, rubbing his temples.

Seraphina, meanwhile, regretted everything.