Word spread that I was instructing Misayano and Sabronard, and many people began saying, "I want you to teach my child too," so the king officially asked me to open something like a swordsmanship class.
I consider training the next generation to be one of my most important jobs. There's no problem with taking on the role, but there are simply too many people. As a compromise, instead of individual instruction, it was decided to open a class.
Well, that's how it went.
After going through all of this, the day to start the class arrived. As expected, one might say. Neal, the eldest and only son of Ichabod, was not there. Perhaps it was an indication that, as the only son of the first prince, he had nothing to learn from the stupid youngest prince. Now that I have formed a good relationship with Fassone, I can assume that his absence means that it is his own personal decision.
Well, from what I'd heard, he doesn't seem to be the type of person to learn things from others. There was also no sign of Sabronard. However, this was because he was being advised by me on a regular basis and had been excused from attending. Generally, only boys become heroes, so there were no girls. In that sense, Misayano was quite rare.
Even in the bloodline of heroes, which numbered in the tens of generations, there were not many female heroes. One such rare presence was the female hero Misaya, also known as Misayano BraveLord, who was standing by my side.
I don't have enough hands by myself, so she has come to assist me. There are my nephews, nephews, and more nephews as far as the eye can see. It's like a bargain sale of the hero's bloodline. I look at their mothers, who are the queens who accompany them. Since they are spouses of the hero's bloodline, they are all naturally beautiful. I have a physical relationship with everyone here. I wonder what their children's faces would be like if they found out. Suddenly, I find myself thinking about this.
When alone with me, the queens have completely female faces, but in front of their children they put on the faces of mothers. There's no way to describe women other then as truly mysterious beings. With this in mind, I began my sword-fighting class.
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