Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

e confused, felt that Irene had trouble with the sword and went back to his own lazy self.

Irene Pareira didn’t care.

Even the assistants who looked at him didn’t hope for much, but he knew that he shouldn’t waste his energy on what the others thought.

The swordsmanship of the man in his dream.

The feelings that man felt.

And something beyond that.

For that, Irene had to lay on the bench.

No, it was that moment.

“Hmm…”

“…”

A blue-haired boy was observing him.

Bratt Lloyd.

Irene’s concentration was clouded by the blatant gaze he felt from a close distance.

As Irene asked.

“If there is…”

“That one.”

“Huh?”

“The thing that you say you’re practicing.”

Bratt pointed his finger at Irene.

It wasn’t an argument.
His expression seemed too bright to consider it as arrogant.

As if Bratt realized something.

After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“You’re not sleeping, but it’s meditation practice!”

“… meditation practice?”

“Right! What the priests do to clear their minds and reflect on themselves.
Right?”

Nope.

Irene just wanted his dream to be brought into reality, and while searching for a suitable position, he decided to close his eyes while lying down.

But that couldn’t be explained.

Frowning.

“Um, well… somewhat similar.”

“Yes.
I have heard of it.
Among some swordsmen, the practice is quite famous.
I definitely remember it.”

Bratt’s words continued.

He heard that it was quite effective in enhancing concentration as it was a method of religion where mental power was important and that some famous swordsmen managed to attain enlightenment through meditation, and they entered the stage of being a Sword Master.

Irene’s head grew heavier at the excited voice.

However, there was nothing he could say, so he decided to keep silent.

“Nice.
Then I’ll try it too.”

“…”

“But it was weird.
Was that your meditation posture?”

“….
I just did it in a position that was comfortable for me.”

“That so? Well then, I’ll do it your way.”

“No, you don’t have to follow…”

“Shh.
I’m trying to focus.
You do what you’re doing.”

After speaking, Bratt went to the next bench and laid down.
And after putting his hands on his stomach like Irene, he closed his eyes.

Bratt was sure that Irene’s recent achievements were all because of this.

His strength and concentration must have all come from meditation.

If so, then even he would get a meaningful change!

‘Nice! Let’s calm down.’

He didn’t know much about mediation.

However, he knew that it was important to put his mind at ease.

Bratt caught his breath.
Then his heart, which was pounding fast, began to slow down.

‘This feels fine!’

The feeling didn’t seem bad.

For a while, Judith seemed to have distrubed his calm because of her boar-like behavior, but now he managed to find stability.

Bratt Lloyd tried to get rid of all the distracting thoughts.

A little calmer.

A little quieter.

A little mor…

“Sir Lloyd!”

Shock!

Bratt’s eyes flew open at the sudden whisper.

Looking to the side, he saw Lance Peterson squatting next to him.

Bratt asked.

“What?”

“Well… it looked like you… were sleeping.”

“…”

In a moment, Bratt turned his head to the clock.

Two hours had already passed.

Bratt decided to get up.

“Uhm.
Not sleeping, I was just following Irene’s method of training.”

“…”

“Th-that.
Meditation.
Which is known to be done by priests is enjoyed by the knights…”

“Really? And do people actually snore while doing mediation?”

Judith asked as she passed by them.

Lance Paterson’s face turned red in helplessness.

And the other two trainees next to him were the same.

“…”

Bratt left the hall without another word.

His face was red in embarrassment, but Irene decided to pretend he didn’t know.

Irene continued to practice.

No success.
Still maintaining a picture drawn on the water was a thing of the past.

The laughter from the trainees grew bigger.
But he didn’t care.

Shockingly, Bratt still continued to practice mediation.

“The position is the problem.
It’s the norm to do it cross-legged.”

“You idiot, it’s of no use! It’s just something he does, that’s all.”

“It isn’t too late for you to try.”

He didn’t care even when Judith cursed him.

Maybe if it was the past, he would have cursed her back, but he changed after hearing Ian’s advice.

He accepted the fact that he was arrogant.
He realized that other people were also skilled, and there was always something he could learn.

He always felt reluctant to admit others’ way of doing things were right, which was why this attempt was more valuable for Bratt.

‘If I follow School Master’s teaching, the narrow thoughts in my head might disappear gradually.’

After thinking that, Bratt headed to the corner of the gym, and there he sat cross-legged like a priest and immersed himself in his own world.

The trainees ignored him too.

In their eyes, it was a simple way to waste their precious time.

But after a month passed, the situation changed.

“Trainee Irene Pareira.
From today on you will be in class B.”

“Yes.”

Instructor Brandon Philips spoke.

No one complained.
No one expressed surprise.

Everyone knew that at some point, Irene’s skills began to grow at a steep pace.

And that ‘some point’ wasn’t much different from when he started meditating.

And that wasn’t it.

Whik!

“I won.”

“Damn you, this is invalid! One more!”

“It isn’t invalid, but I’m more than happy to do it again.”

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Judith and Bratt were fighting over swordsmanship.

Gradually, a gap between the two began to form from the stage where they were equal.

There was no need to ask who was ahead.

Bratt’s face was full of confidence as he raised the sword.