The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master

As soon as we entered the director’s office, a chill ran down my spine. It was hot outside, but in here it felt like the air conditioning was on full blast.

“……”

But no. The air conditioning was off. The source of the cold was the owner of that office—and of my heart.

“You came with Her Highness?”

…Ryozo.

Her gaze was no longer one of simple displeasure; it was venomous. Something told me I’d messed up.

Victoria, sensing the bad atmosphere, hid behind me and mumbled awkwardly.

“I-if you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“It’s fine. Sit down.”

Ryozo stood up and took the main seat of the “ㄷ”-shaped sofa. With a tilt of her chin, she motioned for Victoria and me to sit on the sides.

We obeyed.

The silence was finally broken by Ryozo’s low voice.

“I remember the first time Her Highness came to my office.”

“……”

“Back then you held your head much higher, looked at me as if I were beneath you, and said, ‘I want to see the Heavenly Sword.’”

“That was…”

“Well, you’ve got what you wanted, haven’t you?”

Victoria only lowered her head even more. If the tension kept building, Ryozo would soon direct all her fire at me. And she never missed.

Meanwhile, Ryozo kept staring at Victoria until she pulled out a yokan and bit into it hard.

“Came to ask for advice about family problems?”

“H-how did you know…?”

“In your current situation, what other concern could you possibly have?”

Crunch, crunch.

She chewed the sweet, exaggerating the movements of her jaw.

‘This is what’s scary about her…’

My wife had the ability to take a single clue and dismantle ten hidden truths.

***

Victoria.

Officially, she was first in the line of succession. But that number didn’t mean much in the world of Miracle Blessing M.

Here, nobility wasn’t passed down just for being the eldest or legitimate child; it was a merit-based system. In a society where heroes and blessings existed, what mattered was actual capability.

Patriarchs constantly observed their children, encouraging competition among them.

‘Must be exhausting on that side too.’

Being born into a family of heroes meant being doomed to constantly prove yourself.

“I’ve heard rumors that my position in the imperial family is weakening.”

Said Victoria in a subdued voice. Ryozo kept chewing her sweet, head slightly tilted, listening.

“They named me first in line just because I inherited the Blessing of the Owl…”

“But you rebelled against His Majesty. And knowing his personality, do you really think your blessing will give you an edge in the succession fight?”

“Ah… y-yes…”

Confused, Victoria looked at me for support. I responded with a calm smile.

‘Don’t worry, Your Highness. In front of Ryozo, there’s no hiding anything.’

To my eyes, Victoria was bound by dozens of invisible threads, like she had lie-detector wires attached to her skin. It wasn’t like the “red filaments” I’d seen on the Pope, manifestations of the power of the God of the Sword, but the effect was similar—years with Ryozo had taught me how to read it.

“Hmm.”

Ryozo swallowed the sweet, thoughtful. The glucose seemed to energize her mind even more.

“You shouldn’t worry too much.”

“How can you be so sure…?”

“I don’t know the emperor’s personality in detail, but I’ve seen how he treats people. And as a leader, he’s exceptional.”

“I know that better than anyone…”

“Among all his virtues, the most outstanding is his ability to use people.”

That talent—indispensable in any leader.

‘That’s exactly what I lack.’

I used to handle everything alone, without delegating.

That’s why my wives, my companions, even the president insisted on helping me.

“The emperor won’t let a personal issue interfere with the succession. On the contrary, he might value you more for opposing him, because it shows initiative.”

“R-really?”

“That’s for you to judge.”

Ryozo crumpled the silver wrapper of the sweet and drank water before continuing her lesson.

“In ancient times, there was a strategist named Sun Wu. His lord had trouble because his concubines wouldn’t obey. So Sun Wu gave him a piece of advice: Execute the most disobedient one.”

“…Ah.”

“And then, miraculously, all the others started to obey.”

“Then… I…”

Victoria’s face turned pale. She looked like an animal being led to slaughter.

“But you have to understand it in context. Sun Wu—Sun Tzu—was a hero of the Warring States period, when war was constant. In such times, small noise could be eliminated for the sake of a greater plan.”

Ryozo glanced at me.

“Are we in an era of war now?”

Victoria looked at me too, waiting for my answer.

“No.”

“The deep war ended ten years ago.”

Because of my sashimi.

Ryozo brought up another story.

“There was an emperor who unified everything under his rule. And do you know what came right after?”

When Ryozo guided the conversation, it was inevitable.

“Then the most important thing was to distribute rewards properly.”

The top student answered immediately.

“That was exactly what gave past emperors the most headaches. Who to give the first reward to. If they gave it to someone close, it could trigger another rebellion in the newly unified empire. That’s when his closest advisor told him this.”

A serene light shone in Ryozo’s eyes.

“Grant the greatest reward to the vassal you hate most, Your Majesty. That way, the others will wait their turn.”

Victoria’s eyes sparkled with a flash of understanding. Her expression showed that she had reached new clarity.

“Your Highness, you’re a student, but also a candidate for leadership. If you think about it, you are a tree, while the current era is the forest. The elders always say: don’t look at just the tree—see the forest, right?”

Victoria nodded slowly.

“What’s more, the Emperor might even give Your Highness an edge in this succession battle.”

“Then I’ll be under even more scrutiny from the other heirs.”

“And that’s where your true capabilities will be tested. But remember, Your Highness—in those moments, it’s not technique that matters, but strategy.”

“……”

“And more than strategy, what really counts is the leader’s vision—the direction they want to take. A leader isn’t created alone; it’s the people who elevate them.”

The conversation was between two women, but the gaze fell on me, Kang Geom-Ma.

“Crisis is also opportunity. Use this to engrave your purpose into the heart of the imperial family.”

“Direction… direction…”

Victoria savored the word, and suddenly stood up.

“Ah!”

In that clumsy motion, she hit her knee against the table and tears welled up, but even so, she bowed gratefully to us.

“Thank you very much, Director. And you too, Heavenly Sword. With your permission, I’ll take my leave.”

Victoria left the office. Ryozo stared at the closed door and murmured.

“Maybe I overdid it with the lecturing.”

“That’s your job. It was a class money couldn’t buy.”

Ryozo shot me a sideways glance.

“…You.”

Mercy!

After a moment, she stopped pretending to be angry.

“Let’s pretend those words never left your mouth.”

“Thanks, Go-eun.”

“I like how that sounds. ‘Thanks, Go-eun.’”

The furrows in her brow disappeared.

“There’s a saying: the teacher also learns.”

“Our teachers at the academy used to say that a lot.”

“Yes, but now I understand it’s true.”

“And what changed in you after advising Her Highness?”

“It was like writing a reflection letter out loud.”

“Then, if it was a reflection letter, all that’s left is to do better from now on, right?”

“Geom-Ma, you…”

Ryozo pinched my cheek.

“It’s because you’re spilling so much charm that all those girls stick to you!”

“I-I’m sorry, Ryozo…”

In the office, the cold air began to dissipate, giving way to a playful warmth. What we called “loving scoldings” were nothing more than our displays of affection.

Ryozo hit my shoulder several times with her fist and then settled beside me, using my leg as a pillow. I gently stroked her cheek and hair.

“Geom-Ma.”

I felt the slight tremble in her voice travel through my muscles like a tickle.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of Kojima as a person?”

“To be honest, as a human being, he wasn’t exactly admirable.”

He was my father-in-law, but I had to speak truthfully.

“However, as a hero, he was just.”

“Do you really think so?”

“In the end, he acted against everything he had stood for until then. That’s why.”

His death wasn’t grand or majestic.

“Because a hero is someone who accomplishes the difficult. In that sense, Kojima was an example to follow.”

***

Meanwhile, in a reception room for distinguished guests, another conversation was taking place.

“Seriously, is it that hard to write a eulogy?”

“Haha…”

“Sure, my father wasn’t perfect, but looking at the bigger picture…”

Blah, blah, blah…

Choi Seol-Ah kept a polite smile, but inside she was falling apart.

‘She talks too much.’

Saki Hina seemed to want to unload all her resentment on her. At first, she’d been cautious, but now she seemed ready to tell her even the dinner menu.

‘If she weren’t the prime minister…’

Choi Seol-Ah would’ve already run away without looking back.

‘Someone please save me.’

Suddenly, her phone vibrated. The sender: the director.

‘Finally!’

Choi Seol-Ah clenched her fist under the table and asked Saki Hina for a moment. She, though annoyed by the interruption, nodded reluctantly.

‘Let it be a coffee run, please.’

She thought that just before answering.

“Yes?!”

A few seconds later, Choi Seol-Ah’s eyes widened. Saki Hina tilted her head.

“What is it?”

“Well… you see.”

Choi Seol-Ah turned her head stiffly like a wooden doll.

“The director has decided to write the eulogy.”

“…Really?!”

“And not only that.”

With a solemn air, Choi Seol-Ah delivered Ryozo’s final words.

“She says that at Kojima’s funeral, she wants to read it out loud herself…”