The ring's effect and my own legs carried me faster than I had expected.
I appeared directly in the center of the group, right in front of the person seated on the white marble throne, reading a book.
"Greetings," I said calmly. My voice came out far too solemn. "May I interrupt this gathering?"
It wasn't really a question. I simply needed their attention on me.
Three boys and two girls stood before me, all radiating the smug self-assurance of people who had nothing but a prestigious surname to their name.
"Who the hell are you?" one of the boys demanded.
"Jakob Liedschlag," I replied, my tone grave as a soldier's. "Is this a religious meeting? Should I kneel?"
My gaze fell on the marble cross at the center of the large table. My fingers traced the reliefs that formed a world map.
"You may kneel if you wish," one of the girls said arrogantly. Her eyes raked over me in a way that was anything but pleasant. "But I'd rather you touch something else first."
Her barely veiled proposition turned my stomach. Instead of showing it, I offered my most pleasant smile.
"I apologize." I gave a courteous bow to reinforce my act of false politeness. I could hear the girls giggling behind me. "But my songs are reserved for more refined tastes and a rather more… civilized audience."
I let the words settle. The girls took longer than the boys to grasp the implication.
The vein throbbing on one boy's forehead made it clear who the leader was.
"Have you come to insult us?" His voice trembled with barely contained rage.
I smiled.
"That was not my intention." I spread my arms. "I heard a commotion and wanted to see what was happening."
The leader's expression was almost comical, but I held back my laughter.
"Get lost, Liedschlag. This doesn't concern you."
I wish it didn't. But I'd rather not have a potential apocalypse on my hands while I'm stuck in this world.
"You're right. It doesn't concern me." I kept walking until I stood closer to Jaga.
I deliberately turned my back on the group—an action I was certain Primrose would lecture me about for hours.
I looked at the girl seated on the marble throne. Her delicate, pale hands clutched a leather-bound book against her ample chest.
I noticed the cross on its cover.
"Are you alright?" I tried to imitate Ardeshir's calm tone, but I suspect it only made my voice sound harsher.
It was almost impossible to tell if she was looking at me—her hair covered her eyes—but I was certain she remembered our last encounter.
For a few seconds, guilt flickered through me for having ignored her that time. I pushed the feeling aside. The moment to help her was now.
She showed no visible reaction. Reading her was genuinely difficult. Then her cherry-red lips moved.
"I'm a little uncomfortable." Her voice was melodic. If I hadn't known she was a vampire, I might have believed she was an angel. "These people don't seem to possess even the basic notions of civility."
Hey, good answer.
I smiled at her.
"It's inevitable," I said in my best tone of feigned embarrassment. "They're foolish enough to try intimidating you."
Again, no visible change, but I felt her relax slightly.
"Hey," one of them called. I sighed internally.
From the outside, Jaga looked like a sweet, taciturn, fragile maiden. Her otherworldly beauty only made men target her more aggressively.
But…
"Have some manners," I said wearily, still focused on Jaga. "I'm speaking with a lady. It's rude not to face her when addressing her."
Behind me, the group shifted uncomfortably.
"How dare you!" one of the girls shrieked. Her voice echoed across the entire area.
I noticed geese and swans fleeing in fright.
I kept my back to them. I was painting a target on it so they wouldn't push a demigoddess's mental stability to its limit.
I turned my head and gave them a friendly smile, eyes closed.
"How can I help you?"
I was starting to worry about how nobles perceived reality.
These episodes of stupidity explained perfectly how the world could fall into ruin so quickly in the game.
"I said get lost…" The leader's tone had crossed into open hostility.
This boy should thank whatever gods he believed in that I was the one standing between him and a vampire princess.
If I placed the same weight on honor that others did, we'd already be in the middle of a fight.
Luckily, I wasn't a native of this world, even if I wore the skin of one.
"I heard you the first time," I said without turning. "I chose to ignore your order. It's a character flaw."
I had to restrain myself from smiling.
I kept my attention on Jaga.
"Do you like bloodsuckers?" one of the girls said in a mocking, cliché tone. "I shouldn't be surprised. Looking at you, it's obvious there must be at least one leech in your family."
Magnificent…
This girl has the survival instincts of a hamster.
"My lady, please," I began gently, making my tone as kind and melodic as possible.
I gave her an emotionless, serious look. The noblewoman grew nervous.
Good.
I turned my focus back to Jaga.
"You don't have to look at me," I said softly. It was the same tone I used with frightened animals during hunts with Primrose—the one she had taught me when I kept scaring rabbits just by breathing too loudly. "But I'm going to stay right here until they leave. Is that alright with you?"
To my surprise, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Good.
I turned around.
The group was still there. Their expressions had shifted from irritation to the particular uncertainty that appears when people aren't sure if someone is dangerous or simply insane.
I gave them my best smile: all teeth, zero warmth.
"So," I said conversationally, "five against one girl who was minding her own business. Impressive arithmetic. Did you coordinate this, or was it more of a spontaneous group activity?"
I saw fury and unrestrained rage on their faces.
The apparent leader—a tall, blond young man with gray eyes—stared at me coldly.
"You're testing my patience, Liedschlag." He used his best intimidating voice.
Adorable.
"That implies you have patience worth testing. I'm skeptical." I tilted my head. "But here's what I'm curious about. Does any of you actually know who she is?"
I didn't point at Jaga. That would have been rude. She was a princess and duchess, after all.
One of the girls laughed nervously.
*Oh dear God…*
"She's a noble from Solomonara. So what?" *I pity the man who ends up your husband…* "They're all bloodsuckers anyway. Lots of barking and—"
"She is the Imperial Princess of Solomonara," I said, my voice making it clear their stupidity had crossed a line. "Duchess of Gorgomana. One of the most important people at the Academy."
In short, they had been committing political suicide.
The group fell silent.
I watched them exchange nervous glances and sighed, tired of this painfully cliché scene.
"We…" the leader began, voice trembling.
"You," I said, looking at each of them in turn, "were trying to intimidate her."
I let that sink in.
"And why do you care what we do?" The boy with glasses spoke in a cold, indifferent voice. "She's still a blood-drinker. Why would you defend her?"
Because I don't want this to become a snowball that triggers an avalanche.
"Do I need an excuse to help someone in need?" It was possibly the most cliché line on the planet, but these people needed to understand the point. "And I don't want a war."
I really didn't.
"War?" The boy with glasses laughed awkwardly. I felt secondhand embarrassment for him. "Besides being a musician, are you also a buffoon?"
My patience took a hard hit.
"I just saved you," I said with barely contained frustration.
The leader—tall, blond, gray-eyed, the kind of face that looked like it had been trained to scowl in front of a mirror—took a step forward.
"Saved us?" His smile was small and venomous. "From her? Liedschlag, you're more deluded than they say."
I didn't like the way he said it.
"You have no idea what you're talking about." My voice came out colder than I intended.
"And you do?" the green-eyed girl asked mockingly. "Please."
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jaga still clutching her book to her chest like a shield.
"Let's be honest," I heard Friedrich's voice whisper in my ear. "You've been wanting to vent all the frustration you've built up since this morning."
One thing I hated about the damn revolver was that it always knew exactly what to say at the worst possible moment.
My hands formed fists.
Not because of the insult to me.
Maybe it was necessary to make them understand the hard way.
I took a step toward them.
"What a pitiful scene."
I was about to speak when an elegant female voice cut in. Soft, delicate footsteps approached.
We all turned—well, they whirled around. I merely turned my head slightly.
A few paces away, standing beside the white stone path, was a young woman with pale skin and impeccable posture. Her uniform was flawless.
Straight black hair framed violet eyes that sparkled with intense malice.
I didn't recognize her, but she gave me a friendly smile before focusing on the idiots in front of me.
Oh.
Oh no.
"Lady Leana," the group leader said stiffly. "This isn't what it looks like."
Leana's smile grew even more wicked.
"That's what stupid people always say when they're caught doing exactly what it looks like." She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. "You disappoint me. I was under the impression that Gwyndon at least taught its students to recognize mortal danger when it stands in front of them."
The blond boy looked confused.
"Danger?" he repeated.
Leana advanced a few steps with the calm of someone who feared nothing present.
"Allow me to clarify." Her tone remained exquisitely polite. "You are harassing, as a group, the Imperial Princess of Solomonara and Duchess of Gorgomana, inside an international Academy, on neutral territory, in broad daylight, and in the presence of at least one student from Erdeder Gnade who has already demonstrated a certain… talent for drawing attention."
She didn't look at me when she said it. She didn't need to.
"If you had been slightly more diligent," she continued, "you would have chosen a place without witnesses. If you had been slightly more intelligent, you wouldn't have involved girls from lesser houses in such a scene. And if you possessed even a shred of political instinct, you would have realized that what you're doing right now does not harm my cousin."
Leana smiled, revealing white teeth and prominent fangs.
Cousin?
Oh.
They were utterly screwed.
"We didn't want—"
"Of course you did." Leana's voice was sweet. I felt a small shiver run down my spine. "You wanted to amuse yourselves at the expense of someone who seemed too docile to defend herself. A childish, understandable impulse. What is unforgivable is not the cruelty, but the incompetence."
*Dear God…*
"We are not obligated to accept lessons from a Solomonaran bitch." The leader's bravery was matched only by his stupidity.
"Of course not," Leana said sweetly. "But you may be obligated to explain to your parents why your names will appear in a formal letter sent to the Director, the faculty, the Gwyndon delegation, and—with any luck—to the offices of the sponsors funding your studies."
The green-eyed girl went deathly pale.
"That would be excessive…"
"Excessive?" Leana tilted her head, almost curious. "No, darling. Excessive would be letting her father, older brother, or even my aunt hear about this."
The air grew colder.
I wasn't a political genius, but even I knew none of that was good for anyone.
"We…" one of the boys tried.
"Furthermore," Leana added, now looking at the boy with glasses, "do you truly wish for it to be officially recorded that you called 'blood-drinker' the person who, by right of succession, can decide whether your family will be allowed to trade with certain eastern border counties in the coming years?"
The boy opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
Leana's smile widened slightly.
"Ah. I see. No one explained to you that monsters also keep records, have memories, and can sign decrees."
I couldn't help it. I had to suppress a smile.
This was magnificent.
Not because I was enjoying their humiliation—though I was—but because Leana was doing something I could never do: destroying them without lifting a finger.
Armine would have needed her presence.
Primrose would have needed a mass grave.
Conlaoch would have needed a spear.
Leana only needed to remind them that consequences existed.
The leader was sweating.
"Lady Leana," he began, his stiffness now born of fear rather than arrogance, "there has been a misunderstanding."
"Correct." She nodded gracefully. "The misunderstanding was believing you could afford this behavior."
The other girl—the one who had laughed earlier—took a step back.
"We will apologize."
"What a relief." Leana clasped her hands in front of her. "For a moment I thought I would have to start remembering surnames. And then we would all have a much worse day."
That was enough.
The five turned toward Jaga with the clumsy movements of people who realize far too late that they've stepped into a pit with both legs.
"We apologize," the leader muttered.
Too fast. Too dry. Completely useless.
Leana noticed as well, judging by the microscopically disappointed expression that crossed her face.
"What a shame," she said. "And here I was beginning to think Gwyndon produced at least some people with common sense."
The leader tensed as if he had been stabbed.
"Withdraw," Leana added with the same courtesy a lady might use to ask for more tea. "And do yourselves the favor of not making your lives any worse."
There was no reply.
None of them wanted to take the risk.
They left in disarray, without dignity, in the kind of silence that made it clear they were screaming inside.
I watched them go, and only when they disappeared behind the path did I slowly release my breath.
"What a peaceful morning," I murmured.
"You have a curious definition of peace, Liedschlag."
Of course Leana had heard me.
Her voice had become slightly warmer now that she was no longer acting as a diplomatic blade.
I turned toward her.
"I only came for a walk," I said with a small bow. "Chaos insisted on following me."
I saw a genuine spark of amusement in her eyes.
"I believe it." Then her gaze shifted to Jaga and grew even warmer. More protective. More familiar. "Cousin."
Jaga had stood up at some point without me noticing. She still held the book to her chest, but she seemed… a little less small.
"Leana," she said softly.
Leana stepped toward her, examining her quickly and efficiently.
"They didn't hurt you."
"No." Jaga lowered her voice further. "Thanks to this gentleman's intervention."
I blinked.
Gentleman? Me?
"You were only praying. What kind of monsters harass someone while they're praying?"
Leana's voice cracked on the last word—not from weakness, but because too much emotion was trying to force its way through too narrow a gap.
I looked at her incredulously. There was genuine affection and concern in her voice.
…This was a good time to withdraw.
"You…" Leana's voice became more normal, though still tinged with emotion. "White hair. Red eyes. Pale skin. You look like…"
She cut herself off. Her face turned crimson.
"Like what?" I asked, immediately regretting it.
"Like a knight," Jaga answered. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Your appearance is very similar to those called 'Children of the Moon.'"
…My body went cold.
Images from that night flooded back. I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming.
I felt cold sweat break out on my hands and back.
I swallowed.
"Moon?"
*Child of the Moon…* What a great sense of humor.
I almost laughed.
That damned moon that hadn't even been present and yet still seemed to watch me from somewhere behind the daylight.
I kept my back straight.
That, at least, I could still do.
My fingers slowly curled until they dug into my palms.
For an instant I saw it again: the red grass, the dead white tree, the moon unfolding like something that should never have moved, the false hand touching me from the inside.
A clean, sudden wave of nausea rose in my throat.
I swallowed.
"Are you alright?" Jaga's voice was so soft it startled me.
I blinked once.
Then I noticed both of them.
Leana was no longer smiling.
She hadn't moved, but her entire posture had changed: tenser, more alert, like a snake that had stopped playing with the temperature of the air and was now measuring distances.
Her violet eyes were fixed on my face.
"I…"
"Knight…" Jaga said again, barely above a whisper.
Her voice was so gentle that I felt a small surge of anger toward those who thought it was a good idea to bully her.
"Forgive me," I said. "I shouldn't have shown embarrassment in front of you."
"You didn't," Leana replied. "You acted like a true noble."
I smiled at Leana. There were layers of irony in her comment.
"My apologies regardless." I bowed to both. "I showed you a very private side of myself."
"Oho." Leana let out an amused laugh. "How bold. A noble trying to court two princesses at once. Shame on you, knight. We've seen through your strategies."
"Eh?" When I looked up, I noticed Leana's flushed cheeks. "That is not my intention."
To my horror, Leana's blush didn't fade. Instead, her eyes turned mischievous.
"Ooh." She placed her index finger on her lips with an amused smile. "Are you saying we aren't beautiful enough to ignite those passions in you?"
My brain took far too long to process what this lovely vampire was saying.
"Not at all." I could lie, but honestly, it was better not to. "I can say that both of you are among the most beautiful women I have ever met."
I wasn't going to pretend they weren't attractive or even desirable, but there was a long distance between that and wanting to seduce them.
"Ooh." Leana's smile remained playful. I realized too late that I had fallen into a trap. "How roguish you are, knight. My poor cousin—so sweet and shy—must be burning from hearing your compliments."
Leana glanced at her cousin, and by instinct I looked too.
Conveniently, a breeze moved her hair.
"..."
Her eyes shone.
They were like rubies held up to firelight: deep, luminous, ancient in a way that contradicted the young face that contained them.
The red of my own irises seemed dirty by comparison.
But it wasn't only the color of her eyes that captivated me—it was her gaze.
There was accumulated sadness and a raw tenderness that stole my breath.
They were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.
And as I looked into them, something unexpected happened.
I remembered my mother.
There was a deep, painful gentleness in them. The look of someone who sees suffering and feels it in her own body as if it were her own wound.
"Shit."
The thought came uninvited, and with it a wave of emotion so strong I had to clench my jaw to keep my expression steady.
Something inside my chest—not my heart, something deeper, something that lived where Jakob ended and I began—cracked open.
Oh.
Oh no.
Her lips parted slightly.
"Are you alright?" I noticed the genuine concern in Jaga's voice. She took a step toward me, and for some reason I instinctively took one back.
"Yes." My voice sounded very uncertain. The worry in Jaga's eyes deepened.
"You're bad at lying," Leana's voice made me look at her. She no longer looked amused, but understanding. "I think you'll need to learn many things if you want to survive in this place."
I looked at Jaga again.
"You're right." I took several steps away from them. "I apologize again."
I had to get out of here. These two had given me a minor crisis in just a few minutes.
"Your soul…" Jaga whispered. Unfortunately, I heard her.
Of course. The vampire who was two steps away from becoming a deity could see souls… Honestly, I should have expected such an absurd development.
"What about it?" My voice came out harsher than I intended. Almost hoarse.
"It's… beautiful." That made me look at her in disbelief. "I think you truly are a Child of the Moon."
That term again…
"What is a Child of the Moon?" In all my playthroughs of [Kings Roads], I had never heard that term, and I was one of the players who read the most lore.
"They are mythological figures," Leana answered. I had been so focused on Jaga that I had forgotten she was there for a moment. "We both grew up seeing ancient paintings of them. They were the knights who served the vampire queens before the fall of the Second Court."
The Second Court… that term I did know.
They were the first Sun-Drinkers who had sworn loyalty to the King of Souls.
Those key to the defeat of Mithrosidra, the Black Sun, and his children.
The lore of this species was equally fascinating.
They had originally been on the side of the Dragon of the Void until the leader of that time decided the King's cause was worthy. In a critical moment she changed sides.
She killed and drank the blood of one of the Void Dragon's children and was named Queen and Goddess of the Vampires.
Of course, after a certain event along with the rest of this world's Gods, she too disappeared.
These two were descendants of that legendary figure…
Wait a moment.
"So I physically resemble these knights?" My voice sounded slightly amused. Who would have thought a series of genetic flukes would result in an appearance some found desirable.
"Not only your appearance." I looked at Leana's smile. There was a curious gleam in her teeth. "Let's say the fragrance of your blood is… intoxicating."
Leana glanced at me sideways, and there I noticed a hunger that made me reconsider every life decision that had brought me to this moment.
"Eeh." I looked down at my right hand. If the wound was letting blood out… I was an idiot…
"According to the more malicious of our scribes, these Children of the Moon served as both knights and lovers to our queens." I didn't like her smile or the way she wiggled her eyebrows… "What do you say, cousin? Isn't it almost romantic how he came to help you?"
"Cousin!" The blush on Jaga's face turned her into a tomato. She pressed her book against her chest again—or tried to, but her hands were trembling so much she nearly dropped it. "The… the scriptures teach restraint… the Third Commandment clearly states that one must never… a lady should not…"
Of course… Jaga's resilience came from her faith in the King of Souls…
"I only came to stop those nobles from causing a disaster," I said, trying to downplay the matter. Unfortunately, all I achieved was making Leana laugh.
"Jakob Liedschlag," Leana said at last, with a small smile that was neither courteous nor cruel this time, but personal. "You are much kinder than you try to appear."
"That is a slander," I replied automatically.
Leana almost laughed again.
"Besides that," she continued, ignoring my defense, "you are more interesting than you seem. It is a rare and valuable flaw."
"What a threatening phrase."
"It was a compliment."
"I suspected as much. That's why I'm worried."
Jaga let out a tiny giggle that perhaps no other ear would have detected.
I did.
And, worse still, I was glad to hear it.
Leana heard it too, and that seemed to soften her a little before she looked at me again.
"My cousin does not laugh often."
The implication hung between us.
I didn't like when people attributed emotional merit to me.
It always sounded undeserved.
"Probably the stress," I said.
"Of course," Leana replied with a solemnity so fake it almost deserved applause. "Nothing makes an imperial blood maiden laugh like a social crisis in the lake."
I noticed Jaga lowering her head again, but not from discomfort this time.
From shyness.
And the problem with well-handled shyness is that it awakens something deeply reckless in me.
I wanted to look at her again.
Not the princess.
Not the vampire.
Not the potential nightmare queen.
The girl with calm scarlet eyes.
That was already too much.
I needed to leave.
Now.
"I'm glad you're both well," I said, taking half a step back. "And I would like to continue talking, but honestly my capacity for socializing today has been overexploited."
Leana looked at me as if that were charming.
Bad news.
"Then we won't keep you," she said. "For now."
For now.
Excellent.
Wonderful.
The least reassuring phrase in the world.
Jaga clutched the book once more, then gathered the courage to speak before I could move.
"Jakob."
I stopped.
I don't know why.
Well, yes I did.
It was my name in her voice.
That was enough.
"Yes?"
It took her a second too long to continue.
"If… if you ever wish to play the piano again," she said without fully lifting her head, "I would like to listen."
My heart, that treacherous madman, decided to do something stupid again.
It wasn't a grand invitation.
It wasn't a confession.
It wasn't anything out of a novel.
It was worse.
It was sincere.
Pure.
And I, like an idiot, felt something very deep inside me wanting to say yes without any caution or calculation.
"…" It took me a moment to respond. "Alright."
Jaga lifted her face just a little.
She didn't smile.
It was something smaller.
More delicate.
And it was so similar to something I had lost long ago that I had to look away.
"I don't promise it will be a cheerful song," I added in a lower voice.
"Sad songs can also be beautiful," she replied.
Shit…
Don't say those things with that voice and those eyes if you don't want to ruin someone's nervous system.
Leana observed the exchange with the look of a woman who had just seen an interesting piece form on the board.
That kind of interest from a woman like her was even more dangerous than an open threat.
"Until later, knight," Leana said with an elegant tilt of her head. "It will be a pleasure to speak with you again sometime."
Please no.
"I'll put it on my agenda." I was mentally exhausted right now.
I didn't even have the strength to think.
I walked along the path toward the castle for a few minutes until I remembered what I was supposed to be doing right now…
God, I had to get back to the metallurgy club.
I wasn't mentally prepared for today's meeting. I could feel the anxiety forming, and besides… the encounter with those two had left me…
Actually, it hadn't been that bad…
Anyway, I needed…
DONG!
DONG!*/
…
… The bells calling the students.
There was no way to express the emotions running through me right now.
It was time for the match.
"Ahahahaha!" A laugh that wasn't mine reached my ears. I was alone among the trees.
"You're quite annoying when you want to be," I said, lowering my gaze. There, in my left hand, was the revolver, white as milk.
"What inconsiderate things you say," a distorted, masculine voice with a hint of sarcasm and—for some reason I still didn't understand—an English accent came from the weapon. "Partner."
"Limit yourself to being an inert weapon," I told my revolver. It let out an even shriller laugh. I thanked God I was alone. "No games."
The weapon vibrated in my hands and I felt a headache forming quickly.
"Oh, is that how you speak to your partner?" it said with a crisp aristocratic English accent that somehow managed to sound both bored and utterly disgusted. "Has the emotionally constipated young master just had a tender moment with royalty? How absolutely precious. I think I felt my trigger mechanism contract from secondhand embarrassment."
It was simply irritating to hear its voice. Looking at it with a certain disgust and superiority, I had to say:
"I'll bury you in a hole with water again." My smile as I said it made the weapon vibrate in my hand.
"You have no soul," the wretch had the audacity to sound hurt. "Do you have any idea how tedious it is to be trapped with someone who spends forty percent of his mental energy worrying about what a half-giantess thinks of him?"
My face heated up. I swallowed my displeasure and remembered a necessary detail for this moment.
"Shut up, Betsy." At my words I felt the heat increase as I held it.
"Friedrich!" Its English accent added layers of irony to its obviously Germanic name. "That damned hunter with her terrible naming sense."
"Primrose, you're the best."
"I heard that! Womanizer!" The gun's slanders were absurd. "You are the worst kind of charmer. You go around conquering maidens and then in your hypocrisy say: 'Oh no, what will Armine think? Oh heavens, I hope she doesn't notice I'm a fraud. Poor me, I'm not worthy of her pure smile.'"
The amount of fury I felt toward this thing was beyond any logic.
"… I," I began, frustration heavy in my voice.
"Stop lying to yourself." Friedrich's cold, serious voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Like it or not, you can't keep running from your reality."
Since the second day I started training with Primrose I could hear him.
He never said anything useful. He was only a reminder of my trauma and a genuine pain in the ass.
"I hate you," I told the gun honestly. The last thing I wanted right now was for it to tell me that.
I heard the thing somehow sigh with exhaustion.
"It's like being trapped in a sad Victorian novel written by someone who has never been kissed."
"…" Technically speaking, this body had never kissed a girl and was still a virgin…
"Come on," my gun told me. "Let's not waste any more time."
…
…
..
.
I really do love settings that evoke a golden age full of heroism and living legends.
Everything in this world was magnificent.
The Eozän Coliseum was not simply an arena.
It was a declaration.
A circular structure that rose from the ground as if the earth itself had decided to form an amphitheater.
White stone—something older and finer than common marble—gleamed under the sunlight, forming stands that ascended in perfect circles.
Each level was marked by columns carved with reliefs of forgotten battles: nameless warriors fighting beasts that no longer existed, heroes raising swords toward a sky that had not yet fallen.
At the top, where the columns converged, spheres of light floated like captured stars, bathing the entire Coliseum in a perpetual golden glow even at noon.
The floor of the arena was green grass with a white marble quadrangle in the center. It looked ancient yet perfectly preserved, emanating a quiet majesty.
In its corners stood four white carved pillars: an archer aiming at the sky, a swordsman with two blades crossed over his chest, a maiden with a crown and dragon horns, and a muscular man with both arms extended forward.
The seats were already full.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of students occupied every available space. Nobles clustered in the upper sections where the air was cooler and the view clearer.
Commoners and scholarship students filled the lower stands, closer to the action.
I was grateful that, despite everything, I was a noble.
I had managed to secure a relatively decent seat and was held in some regard. Luckily the seats on either side of me were empty, so I could enjoy the matches without dealing with anyone beyond my revolver.
In my hand was a cup of coffee. Across the stands, several nobles sipped wine, champagne, and other drinks.
"Aah," Friedrich's voice echoed in my mind. "Decadence. The sweet, sweet decadence."
"Having fun?" I asked my weapon mentally while taking a sip of coffee.
What an absurd life this is.
"Having fun?" Friedrich's voice sounded in my head with aristocratic contempt that could cut glass. "Jakob, this is a glorified circus where teenagers with too much money and too little brain beat each other up while an audience of idiots applauds. It is the purest reflection of this decadent world."
I stopped drinking and looked at the black liquid in the porcelain cup. My reflection stared back with cold, analytical eyes.
I looked to the sides.
Banners hung from the columns, each representing the nations present:
The white and gold Cross and Crown of Hesperidia.
The White Dragon of Gwyndon.
The crowned black double-headed Eagle of Erdeder Gnade.
The Dragon with a cross through it of Solomonara.
The Fleur-de-lis of Glorienne.
The Sun, Coin, and Crown of Ausonia.
The Silver Fox of Vintergard.
The green Asian Dragon of Zhongguo.
The Raven and Spear of Éire na Fidbadh.
The Golden Sun of Ōyashima.
The Eagle with the Sun at its feet of Arshaka-Nûr.
The White Mare of Khamsin.
There was also the Cross made of swords of the Church and…
I frowned.
The Black Chalice of the Kuzhar.
The sons and acolytes of Helal.
*Problems?* Friedrich asked, his voice serious for once.
"Yes," I said, taking another sip of coffee. The sons of Helal were possibly one of the most irritating factions of all and completely antagonistic to everyone. "But for now let's let it pass."
I saw several important dignitaries in the center of everything. Elevated on a dark stone dais was the honor tribune.
There, seated with a posture that suggested both boredom and absolute interest, was Director Hawkwood.
When my eyes landed on him, he immediately returned my gaze. His gray irises seemed to pierce me like swords.
Beside him, professors and dignitaries seemed absorbed in the current match.
Then the director gave me a kind smile.
I quickly looked away.
"What a dangerous man." Friedrich apparently shared my opinion. "I suggest you stay far from his interest."
"You don't have to tell me twice," I said, taking another sip of coffee.
*Yes I do,* Friedrich said so quickly it almost made me spit out the coffee. *I can tell you're far too stubborn for your own good.*
The day someone gave personality to this inanimate object was the day a new kind of idiot was born.
"Limit yourself to being a weapon," I said in a flat voice, to which he laughed in amusement.
I decided to focus on other things. I noticed how the Academy's and personal maids and butlers moved between the seats.
I lowered my gaze to the match.
A young man with black hair let the edge of his bastard sword clash against a greatsword.
I saw the boy with the greatsword smile. Conlaoch had told me about this move.
The moment generated by the impact gave him the opportunity to take good distance before striking the opponent's neck and knocking him unconscious.
I hadn't been paying attention, so I didn't know how the fight had been going before that moment, but I supposed I wasn't missing anything important.
"May I sit?" a kind, cordial voice asked from the side.
I didn't recognize the voice, but it had good manners.
I didn't lift my gaze from the match.
"Go ahead." He took the seat to my right and I heard someone position themselves behind him.
"Have the matches been interesting?"
"Not particularly," I said without turning.
I kept my voice serious and slightly neutral. I wanted to avoid another unpleasant encounter with nobles in the near future.
"Would you like a drink?" his servant's voice was young, sweet, and affectionate. I noticed almost immediately the great affection she had for her master. "The Academy offers a wide variety of beverages for this event."
"Mmmm." The young noble seemed to think carefully. "What are you drinking?"
Was this guy going to force a conversation with me?
I sighed but contained my mental exhaustion and put on my best fake smile.
"Coffee." I tried to make my friendly voice sound as natural as possible.
"You don't drink any alcohol?" There was genuine surprise in the man's voice. It must be a new experience to find another noble who didn't enjoy this event.
"I need to think," I said, watching the arena.
The combatants were now a young man with tan skin wielding a bronze-colored spear and a young man with Asian features wielding a naginata.
"I see…" From his tone, the guy seemed to reflect on what I said. "To be honest, I'm not a fan of alcohol either."
His friendly tone made me sigh internally again.
"Look…" I finally turned around.
"Yes?"
I stopped.
Slightly long blond hair in a braided ponytail, gray eyes like a storm.
His friendly smile and genuinely kind gaze gave me a migraine.
Ah…
Aeono…
"I changed my mind." I looked for the nearest maid, who was a few steps away. "Excuse me, miss."
"Yes?" The maid's voice sounded slightly uncertain and nervous.
"Would you be so kind as to bring me a tea with some alcohol?"
The maid blinked a couple of times. It seemed my courteous tone had taken her by surprise for a few seconds before she nodded.
"Any specific type of alcohol?" she asked with a sweet smile.
How friendly this girl is…
"What's the strongest you have?" Whatever it was, I needed it now.
"Well, there's whisky and…"
"Perfect," I said without waiting for other options. "A tea with whisky, please."
"Right away." And with that she left the area.
"Why the sudden change?" Aeono's voice still sounded friendly and slightly amused.
I let out a sigh, closed my eyes, and mentally counted to ten.
"I apologize," I said in a formal tone. "I suddenly realized I need to relax."
I gave the protagonist of this world my best smile and tried not to think about the growing anxiety in my body.
"I see…" This golden boy seemed to reflect on what I said with genuine interest. "Brynn, please bring me the same."
Brynn?
Wait a minute.
I opened my eyes and saw the maid accompanying Aeono.
Sun-kissed skin, roughly cut brown hair that reached her shoulders. The style looked quite good on her.
"… You promised Lord Serenwyn to maintain some decorum." Despite being serious and professional, her voice sounded affectionate.
Her black eyes shone with adoration toward Aeono.
"I consider this necessary, Brynn." There was a notable trust between them that I found curious. "Father can understand that this is for better coexistence with nobles by birth."
That single sentence had revealed two details to me.
One: Aeono had the "Adopted Noble" background.
Two: I didn't recognize this maid. I forced my mind to search for something about her.
Nothing.
I realized that if she were a heroine it would be impossible for me to have forgotten her.
First: She was very beautiful and her design would have been beloved by the fandom. The uniform, though conservative, had a certain charm and highlighted her beauty.
"Forgive my lord." When she turned and began to walk away, "I'll fetch your tea."
Second:
Boink.
Boink.
Boink.
I wasn't exaggerating when I said she ranked in the top tier of the most impressive bosoms I had seen so far.
The maid who had served me returned moments later.
She placed the cup in front of me with the efficiency of someone who had served nobility her entire life.
"Thank you," I said, keeping my eyes on her face. She had a kind smile and intelligent eyes.
"You're welcome." Her voice conveyed genuine warmth.
I took a sip. The whisky hit first, then the tea softened it into something tolerable. Good enough to calm my nerves.
"Strong choice." There was lightness in Aeono's voice. I saw a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "Most people here stick with wine or something lighter. It seems you've had complicated days."
I let out a sigh.
"Yes… you could say that," I admitted, looking toward the arena where the next pair of students were taking positions.
I swirled the cup in my hands, watching the liquid swirl.
"You really needed that," Aeono sounded quite impressed by the change that must have occurred in my expression.
"You have no idea." I took another sip and looked at the arena. The two students were circling each other with practice swords.
"You really aren't like the rumors say," Aeono said with mild surprise. "You can't trust what people say without context."
I turned to look at him properly for the first time. His gray eyes contained neither malice nor calculation. Only honest curiosity.
It was profoundly irritating.
"Pardon?"
He smiled.
"Maybe you don't know, but many nobles talk about you. They comment on the talented musician who managed to move many with his art. Some seem interested in hiring your services." I knew that, but I hadn't imagined it could be so relevant to me. "Others are divided between saying you are or were an unbearable monster and that you're using Princess Armine as a way to climb the social ladder."
Once again I felt the same frustration as before. I was really getting tired of all these idiots speaking badly of Armine.
"But I realize none of those things are possible," Aeono said calmly, his gaze fixed on the match. "I've met people whose only redeeming quality was talent. They usually drown in their own strengths. People who use others would be kissing the feet of high-ranking nobles somewhere else. You seem like someone tired of dealing with me."
Hey…
"You approached me knowing who I was." He looked at me with a shameless smile.
"You also knew who I was the moment you saw me." He seemed very amused by that fact. "Don't think I didn't notice how your entire posture and expression changed."
I had underestimated this guy. He was quite intelligent.
"You're very perceptive," I said dryly.
"I'm told it's a gift." Aeono's tone contained not a trace of irony. "My father says that reading people is the first duty of someone who wants to help them."
His father.
I decided not to pry. Not yet.
"Your father sounds like a wise man," I offered, neutral and courteous.
"He is." Aeono's face lit up in a way that couldn't be faked.
"My lord." Just then the servant appeared with Aeono's drink. After handing him the cup, she positioned herself behind him.
"Brynn, would you say my father is wise?"
The servant let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough.
"Lord Serenwyn is the kindest man I have ever known in my life," she said with a warmth that went far beyond duty. "Whether that makes him wise or simply stubborn is a matter of perspective."
There was a story behind those words. A deep, layered, lived story.
Aeono laughed. It was a good laugh—open and honest, the kind that invited you to join rather than demanded attention.
"He's been saying that since we were eight," he told me, as if sharing a secret. "Back then he phrased it differently."
"Back then, I said your father was crazy for adopting a boy who had set fire to three of his curtains." Brynn's tone was completely serious. "In a single afternoon."
I almost choked on my tea.
"Three?" I looked at Aeono, who had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
"To be fair," he said, raising a finger like a lawyer presenting evidence, "the third was already on fire when I got there."
"It wasn't," Brynn said.
"It was smoldering."
"It was a silk curtain, in Rugën."
"It was a fire hazard waiting to happen."
"You were nine years old."
"I was a very perceptive nine-year-old."
Brynn closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath that told me this was an argument that had been going on for the better part of a decade.
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Not the courteous, measured laugh I had been using all day.
A real one.
Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, or maybe not… I looked at the protagonist of this world with less caution.
Aeono seemed genuinely pleased by that, and Brynn—despite her exasperated expression—softened at the edges.
"So your father adopted you," I said, setting the cup down. I wasn't prying. I had genuine curiosity.
Aeono's expression changed. Not darker, exactly. Deeper.
"He did." His voice was calm, but there was a weight behind it that I recognized. It was the weight of someone who had learned early that the world could be cruel and had chosen not to be. "I didn't come from… much. My mother died when I was young. My biological father…"
He stopped.
Not for drama. Not for effect.
He stopped because the memory still cost him something.
"He wasn't a good man," Aeono said simply. "He drank. He hurt people. He hurt my mother. And when she was gone, he decided I was next."
"I'm sorry for your loss." I said it with honesty. It must have been hard for him.
Aeono looked genuinely surprised by my honesty. It lasted a second before he smiled with camaraderie.
"…It's alright." He looked at the sky, seeming lost in thought for a few moments. "In the end, my home was always somewhere."
"That sounds nice." I took another sip of my tea. The alcohol had done its job. I no longer felt so nervous.
I let out a sigh of satisfaction.
Much better. Suddenly the battle was more entertaining.
"Interesting," Aeono said. He took his cup and I watched him take a very long sip.
"Hey, careful with…" I shouldn't worry. Aeono must be used to it. He was a noble, after all.
"I was on the streets at seven." He said it after he stopped drinking, like someone describing the weather. "I stole food. I slept in alleys. I did things I'm not proud of, but the alternative was death."
I remained silent.
"Lord Serenwyn found me trying to steal from his biological son," Aeono continued, and here something remarkable happened.
He smiled.
"I was filthy, half-starved, and I bit his hand when he tried to grab me." The smile turned into a quiet laugh. "He looked at me—this wild, fierce child with his teeth in his hand—and said: 'You have an excellent grip, young man. Have you considered a career in something less painful for both of us?'"
Brynn let out a very quiet laugh behind him.
"He took me home that night," Aeono seemed fascinated by that event from long ago. "He fed me. He gave me a bed. When I tried to escape three times in the first week, he simply found me each time and asked if I wanted dinner."
There was so much in those words that I felt my throat tighten.
"He never forced anything," Aeono continued. "He never demanded gratitude or obedience. He just… showed up. Every day. With patience and food and this ridiculous belief that a street rat who had set fire to his curtains could become something worthy of belief."
I looked at Brynn. Her face had softened, her gaze now more affectionate and full of emotion.
"You must love him very much," I said to Aeono carefully. "Your father, I mean."
"I do." He looked at the arena. "And my little sister, and the servants of House Serenwyn."
I saw Brynn shift a little at the last part.
"Sister?" I was curious.
"Lord Serenwyn's biological daughter. She's twelve. Her name is Elara." Something in the way he pronounced her name told me everything. "She told me before I left for Eozän… 'Brother, you have to promise me you won't get into trouble or make dangerous friends.'"
"You've already failed that promise, my lord." There was amusement in Brynn's voice. I didn't even want to imagine what kind of friends this idiot had been making.
"I think it's necessary for my growth as a noble to be able to relate to all kinds of people." That was a poor defense. Aeono must have known it because Brynn looked at him with a doubtful expression.
"Is that why you approached those nobles who were trying to harass girls in the lakeside area?" I saw sweat form on Aeono's forehead. "Or the reason you tried to buy an obviously fake enchanted medallion from another student?"
Aeono opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at me with pleading eyes.
"It was a good imitation, I swear." He said it with such a lack of confidence that I looked at Brynn. She shook her head.
"It was poorly painted and the 'gems' were colored glass." Brynn looked exasperated and tired even though her tone was neutral. "Honestly, I think you just wanted an excuse to give him money."
Aeono raised his hands.
"Guilty." He then laughed and looked toward the combat. "It seemed like he needed help."
I could understand that this guy was the hero who would bear the fate of the world on his shoulders… and also why his journey could end in tragedy.
This guy was too good for his own good.
"Don't give your friend any more work," I said, finally noticing the kind of chemistry and relationship these two had… "Seriously, be more considerate of her."
The betrayed expression on Aeono's face was hilarious, but I held back my laughter. Brynn's smile, on the other hand, made it clear I had done the right thing.
"Thank you, Lord Liedschlag. You have no idea how difficult it is to keep this boy under control."
She smiled amiably, and I finished what was left of my tea with alcohol.
"I'm not a Lord," I said with a smile. I didn't plan on gaining any kind of authority in this world. "And I prefer to be called just Jakob."
She gave me a look of genuine surprise, then tilted her head slightly.
"Brynn Stoneworth." Her smile made me look at Aeono, who was peacefully drinking his tea. "The humble personal maid of this trouble-seeker."
The hero almost choked on his tea.
"Brynn!" The red, embarrassed face on Aeono was simply hilarious.
"I haven't said a single lie." Curiously, I detected no malice in her voice.
I smiled, honestly. They were pleasant people.
"Excuse me." A voice suddenly whispered in my ear. I hadn't felt any presence approaching.
I kept my face calm and looked toward the voice. It was a maid with violet eyes and an expressionless face.
"How can I help you?" She stepped back from me, placed her hands in front, and I noticed a slight change in her.
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. She tilted her head slightly and seemed to evaluate me carefully.
"Lord Liedschlag, your match is next." Then she turned. "Please, follow me."
*Aah…*
It was time.
I felt, strangely, nervous.
"Excuse me," I said in a much more cautious voice than I wanted. "May I know who my opponent is?"
The maid stopped and, without turning, said: "Erasmus Weißgold."
The moment I heard that name, the anxiety that had been building throughout the day dissolved.
I looked at my hands. In my left I could feel the phantom weight of Friedrich, and the ring on my right hand gleamed.
The tremor made me close them. That feeling of fear was replaced by anticipation for the fight.
I sighed.
I looked toward Aeono and Brynn.
"It was a pleasure talking with you both," I said honestly. Both their expressions were friendly.
"Likewise," Aeono raised a fist and smiled with a certain tenacity. "Go and win."
I couldn't stop my smile.
"I'll do my best," I said without much certainty. I looked at Brynn and gave her my best tired smile. "Try to keep him out of trouble."
"Hey." Aeono's outrage lifted my spirits.
"I wish you the best of luck, Lord Jakob." Brynn tilted her head slightly, partly to hide her smile and, I liked to believe, out of the sympathy she now felt for me.
"Likewise," I said before turning to the violet-eyed maid. "Lead the way, please."
"This way." The maid began to walk. I followed her. Between the seats and the steps I noticed some people watching me closely, undoubtedly sizing me up. "What weapon do you plan to use, Lord Jakob?"
We walked for a few minutes. Several students observed me carefully.
"Does it matter?" We ended up in a hallway illuminated by floating white spheres. On the white stone walls rested weapons of all types and sizes.
I noticed the lack of edges on all of them. It made sense. It wasn't yet time for us to start killing each other…
"Completely." This maid's voice always seemed serious and emotionless. "Your weapons are not only your means of violence, but also a reflection of your soul and of who you are becoming, my lord."
That sounded very poetic…
"…And what if I'm a different person from the Jakob who arrived here?"
I didn't see any change in her after I said that.
"Would you require a staff and a one-handed sword?" That was the original Jakob's equipment choice. I wasn't interested. "Or do you prefer your twin blades?"
"How do you know he used twin blades?"
"The Academy keeps an internal record of every action its students take, for their own good, obviously." I could almost imagine a slight change in her face as she said that… "Do not worry, Lord Liedschlag. The use of this information is exclusive to authorized Academy personnel."
How reassuring…
"Swords," I said dryly. My mind was focused on the divergences that were occurring.
I needed to plan. The consequences of these changes could be bigger than I imagined…
"The Director strongly requests that you refrain from using your firearm."
"Pardon?" She didn't turn to look at me.
She moved through the room evaluating the weapons on the walls, tracing the edge of a two-handed sword with her hand.
"The Director asks you please not to use your firearm, nor your soul magic, nor to make it appear that you have any advantage over your opponent." Still with her back to me, the servant spoke in an expressionless tone.
"What?" I felt the same kind of fear I felt when I thought about Zofia. In an instant I understood Friedrich's warning.
How does the Director know about the revolver?
"Is there a specific reason for this?" I shouldn't jump to conclusions yet.
"The Director believes it would be unfair for you to use a weapon not permitted to the rest of the student body." Then her voice took on a slight change in tone. "Additionally, the matches are being broadcast on Gwyndon radio. We don't want such a great humiliation for our students."
I felt my newly rediscovered fear subside.
"I understand." I sighed. What a relief.
"Your weapons, Lord Liedschlag." She finally turned to face me. In her delicate hands were copies of my twin blades.
I took them with some reluctance.
Despite the lack of edges they were still magnificent works of art to me. The sword for my right hand had a black edge and a white leather hilt. Nothing special about it.
The sword for my left hand was its color opposite. Both were the length of a forearm.
"Where should I exit?" I looked to the sides. The only door was the one we had entered through.
She touched my chest with her right hand and took a breath.
"The best of luck, Lord Liedschlag." I felt a strong vertigo and immediately found myself in front of the arena.
"Let's go."
"Now."
"Fight, fight, fight!"
The clamor of the people in the stands caused me a certain reluctance.
I was… well, I used to be a streamer, but it was different being seen through a screen versus being seen by a crowd of people.
I was a little nervous, to be honest.
"First year." An amplified voice resonated throughout the entire Coliseum. "Erasmus Weißgold versus Jakob Liedschlag."
There it was.
My name was carried through the air with a weight I didn't appreciate in the slightest.
"Aah."
"Cheer up," Friedrich said in my head with the false cheer of a demon offering candy. "It could be worse. You could be fighting Aeono instead."
That didn't help.
I began to climb the steps of the quadrangle.
The noise of the Coliseum changed as I ascended.
What had been a diffuse sea of voices from above became sharper, closer, more personal.
I could hear young nobles speculating, commoners murmuring, and the occasional butler making a dry comment to some lord too invested in the outcome.
The white quadrangle in the center of the field seemed even more imposing up close.
"Participant Jakob Liedschlag," said a staff member standing at the edge of the arena. "Weapons?"
I blinked at him.
"Twin blades," I answered.
He nodded and indicated for me to proceed.
I walked onto the white stone.
The sounds of the crowd muted immediately. Some kind of enchantment, perhaps. Everything outside the square felt more distant, less immediate.
Good.
I preferred it that way.
A few steps ahead, that guy was waiting for me.
I noticed curious things about him.
He stood with a two-handed sword resting on his shoulder, his face serious.
The stench of cologne on him, while still strong, was now less intense.
His jaw was still tense, yes, but the anger had been replaced by something more measured.
To my surprise, he seemed to be thinking.
We were at the right distance for one man to evaluate another before deciding what level of idiot he was dealing with.
"…Liedschlag," he said.
He looked at me. This time without hatred or contempt.
Then, to my immense and immediate suspicion, he inclined his head slightly.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Weißgold."
A moment of silence passed between us.
Then he did something I hadn't expected in the slightest.
"I owe you an apology."
Eh? My brain took a moment to process what he had said.
I stared at him.
A strong breeze moved the grass and my hair.
One of the floating lights above the Coliseum hummed softly.
I continued staring at him.
To his credit, he didn't flinch.
"Well," I said at last. "And I am secretly the King of Souls."
My sarcasm could not have been more evident.
His expression turned slightly bitter.
"That isn't funny."
"I didn't intend it to be." I crossed my arms.
He inhaled slowly through his nose, clearly containing the part of himself that wanted to be offended by my existence.
"I was rude to you," he said. Each word was measured. "I believed the rumors."
"Which ones?" I did my best to hide my surprise. "There seem to be several."
"That you were a degenerate clinging to Lady Armine to advance socially." His serious expression left me speechless for a few seconds. "That you were trying to take advantage of her kindness and status…"
"Never," I said instinctively. My voice was as serious as, if not more than, his.
A respect I hadn't expected appeared in his eyes.
"I still intend to fight you seriously." He then took a ready stance, pointing the edge of his sword at me in a double grip.
"Good." I gave him a lopsided smile. "I would have felt insulted otherwise."
The corners of his mouth lifted. Not exactly a smile, but enough to count.
The official at the edge of the quadrangle stepped forward and raised a hand.
"Combatants. Take your positions."
I rolled my shoulders once, loosened my grip, and took my stance.
Both swords were pointing to the sides, not directly at him.
Now that I thought about it… This was my first serious match against another person…
I felt… a certain anticipation.
Something of Primrose and Conlaoch must have rubbed off on me because I felt the desire to fight.
The ring on my finger felt cold. No tricks this time, as they had told me.
Only my physical abilities.
For a moment, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade away completely.
There was only the marble under my boots, the wind, and the man in front of me.
Erasmus looked at me one last time.
"To be honest…" he said, his voice reaching just enough for me to hear, "I'm glad the rumors were wrong."
I smiled in spite of myself.
"To be honest," I replied, "you're much less insufferable than I expected."
That almost drew a laugh from him.
Then the official's hand fell.
"Begin."
And Erasmus Weißgold closed the distance between us with a single step forward.
I watched as he raised his sword and swung it vertically toward my shoulder.
I took a step to the left. The blade cut the air with a clean whistle and crashed into the ground, sending out sparks.
It was the right moment. I stepped to the side, aimed with my sword, and put all my strength into a thrust at Erasmus's right shoulder.
"Arg!" He grunted in pain. I saw him put all his weight on one foot and took advantage of the opportunity.
I kicked his less stable leg. He fell to the ground with a grunt. I watched him roll quickly to get away from me…
Hey, that mechanic…
He recovered quickly—got to his feet, adjusted his posture, and recovered his guard.
With a quick slide he released a descending diagonal cut.
I used my right sword to catch the momentum. After the clash, a small gap formed between both weapons.
I applied the correct force and made his blow deflect to the side.
His surprised face helped me understand the situation.
He surely hadn't expected me to move this way.
My knee impacted his stomach. That made him twist in pain. I took the opportunity.
I thrust at his left shoulder. This made him take several steps back.
I moved quickly to connect a direct punch to Erasmus's face, then launched a slash that impacted solidly against his chest.
"Urgh." He moved away from me a bit, eyes closed, pain clear on his face.
I let him recover. There he seemed to reevaluate his strategy.
Panting, he looked me up and down. I raised my swords and invited him to attack me.
He launched a horizontal cut at me with all his strength and the full weight of his body.
I crouched low enough for the attack to pass over my head, tightened my grip on my swords, and struck both sides of his abdomen.
"Argh!" I watched Erasmus grit his teeth in pain.
Despite that, he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and pointed it at me. His tenacity was admirable.
I smiled.
I jumped back in time to see the tip of the sword stab into the ground.
"I underestimated you." Erasmus's breathing was more labored. My attacks had done more damage than either of us had expected. "I didn't imagine you were this good."
I straightened up. The muscle spasms in his shoulders and the trembling of his hands made me feel a little bad for him.
"I'm not," I said seriously. "Compared to the truly strong people, I fall very short."
I remembered Primrose appearing behind me without a sound, her rifle pointed at my nape before I could even register her presence.
"Dead."
I remembered Armine correcting my posture with one hand while holding her bastard sword with the other, with no visible effort.
"Lower. Firmer. Your center of gravity is your anchor."
I remembered the nights in the forest, when Conlaoch attacked from the shadows and Primrose timed my reactions with the coldness of a predator evaluating its prey.
Erasmus was good. Truly.
But there was no way he could compare to those monsters.
"You don't make it easy not to hate you," he said. Even with his evident exhaustion he launched himself at me with his sword raised.
His attack came toward my side. I deflected it with my left sword—the impact vibrated through my arm, but my body absorbed the force without giving ground.
I released another thrust at his shoulder.
"Arg." The pain made him drop his sword.
It was the moment.
I was going to land a direct blow to his head with my free sword, hoping to knock him unconscious, but he dropped his body, extended his right leg, and landed a hit on my stomach.
"Mhm." The impact pushed me back a few steps and knocked the wind out of me.
Erasmus took advantage of that opportunity and recovered his sword.
"Aaaah!" He let out a shout with an evident intention of winning with his next attack.
He launched a rising diagonal cut. I crossed both swords and caught the blade between them, used the momentum of the attack and made it end up pointing at the ground.
He looked me in the eyes with a certain incredulity.
I wiggled my eyebrows mockingly.
Erasmus took a step back, retracted his sword, and thrust at my chest.
Again I moved aside, avoiding the attack.
The incredulous expression on Erasmus's face made me feel bad. Surely for him my reflexes and speed were uncommon, but…
"You're stronger than you look," Erasmus said through gritted teeth.
"I had good teachers." Monsters, more like. "Now it's my turn."
The surprise on his face told me everything.
I advanced.
My body moved with the fluidity that weeks of brutal training had engraved in my muscles.
Primrose had taught me to read my opponent's body before he himself knew what he was going to do.
"His shoulders tell you where he's going. His eyes tell you what he's looking at. His feet tell you when he's going to move."
Erasmus's shoulders tensed toward the right.
I went to his left.
His guard arrived late—a second, maybe less. But in a real fight, that second was the difference between life and death.
My right sword stopped a centimeter from his neck.
I didn't move it further.
Erasmus remained completely still.
His eyes lowered to the blade, then rose to mine.
I didn't see fear in them. Only… understanding.
"…You could have hit me," he said quietly.
"I could have," I admitted. "But this isn't that kind of match."
I withdrew the sword and took a step back.
Erasmus exhaled slowly.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked.
"In the forest." The incredulous expression on his face was understandable, to be honest. "With a hunter and a knight."
When I said knight, his facial expression changed.
"…I see."
Despite his wounds and evident exhaustion, he returned to a guard position with his sword pointed at my chest.
His perseverance was admirable.
I closed the distance between us. With a movement of my left sword I forced him to raise his arms.
He had trained with instructors, expecting enemies with human capabilities.
It must be nice…
I landed a double thrust to Erasmus's chest.
He was sent flying backward, out of the quadrangle, and fell onto his back on the grass.
"Out of bounds! Victory to Jakob Liedschlag!"
The noise of the crowd returned suddenly—scattered applause, murmurs of surprise, some voices of nobles clearly disconcerted by the result.
I stepped down from the quadrangle and went over to Erasmus.
His surprised expression made me feel a little bad for him.
"Would you have preferred I knocked you unconscious?" My serious voice surprised me.
Something like a smile crossed his face.
"Not particularly." I watched him sit up with an exhausted expression.
"Then there's no problem."
"I apologize again." He seemed to mean it sincerely. "I heard people say you were the worst imaginable trash."
Understandable. Honestly, the original Jakob did deserve those insults.
"Has your opinion of me changed?" I couldn't help a contemptuous smile. "I can still be everything they said."
"You're not," he said immediately. He seemed to look at the public with cold eyes.
"Don't be so sure." I said it with genuine intent. I wasn't as bad as the original Jakob, but I was far from being a decent person in my own book.
"It may be, but I judged you based on lies and slander. I hate that kind of thing," he said, his voice lower now, harder. "More than I can properly express."
That made me pause.
The disgust in his voice didn't sound fake.
He seemed genuinely offended.
"What is the reason for this sudden change of heart?" No matter how authentic it all sounded, I shouldn't buy the act so easily.
Erasmus cleared his throat.
"I am a candidate for the Order of the Silver Thorn." The expression on his face when he mentioned that knightly order was one of both respect and longing. "If I am to be a knight, I cannot act like a man without honor who lets himself be influenced by opinions spoken in nests of vipers."
God, I could feel the hatred and outrage this guy felt toward that kind of situation and people.
"That sounds very idealistic." My expression was quite indifferent and my voice dry. "I didn't take you for someone so heroic."
Honestly… It wasn't something I had expected from him.
"I heard what you did for two Ladies at the lake." His voice sounded full of respect. "Coming to the aid of the weaker is not something trash would do."
Ladies? But I only helped…
Ooh…
Jaga and Leana.
Wow, rumors spread fast.
I sighed. This must be another misunderstanding.
"Then I ran into Lady Armine herself."
That immediately caught my attention.
"You spoke with Armine?" I saw a small smile appear on Erasmus's face at my reaction.
"Yes, briefly."
"What did she say?"
Erasmus studied me for half a second, and something in his gaze sharpened.
"Among other things," he said slowly, "that you are a hardworking lord."
I blinked.
A what?
"She also implied," Erasmus continued, "that you are weak, exasperating, prone to saying nonsense, and apparently incapable of taking care of yourself properly unless supervised."
I smiled.
Yes.
"That sounds like Armine." I felt more relaxed.
"She spoke of your effort with pride," and now there was something complicated in his expression. "And I respect Lady Armine enough to reconsider my judgment when she speaks that way about someone."
That was… unexpectedly decent of him.
I looked at him again.
"So you've decided I'm not a bastard after all?"
He frowned.
"I decided," he said, "that I judged too quickly."
I considered it.
This was the same man who had thrown his glove in my face and challenged me in a hallway.
Yet here he was, apologizing without anyone asking him to, because he believed honor demanded it.
I let out a silent sigh.
"Fine."
Erasmus seemed slightly relieved by that.
Then he did something even more surprising.
He gave a bow—properly this time, not as a political gesture, but as one knight acknowledging another combatant.
"It was a good match," I said after a few minutes of silence.
"No," he replied. A half-smile formed on his face. "It was a lesson."
He extended his hand.
"Then I hope you learned something." I smiled, returning the gesture.
"I did." He released my hand and stood up with difficulty. "I learned that Lady Armine has a good eye for judging people's character."
That made me blink.
Erasmus noticed my expression and his smile widened slightly.
"I also learned," he added as he began to walk toward the exit of the area, "that I should not give credit to rumors from vipers."
I watched him walk away.
…What a strange day this was turning out to be.
"Congratulations on your victory, Lord Liedschlag." I looked at the official.
I let out a sigh.
"Thank you," I said without much interest.
"Hey Jakob." Friedrich's voice echoed in my head. Great, another irritating thing to worry about. "Have you realized that you have effectively destroyed your destiny as a Tutorial Boss in this precise moment?"
Eh?
Wait a moment…
I looked to where Aeono should be. He was giving me a thumbs up.
My brain hadn't processed it.
"I won…" The weight of those words hit me hard… but… "Now what?"