After dinner, Alaric and Lalanat headed outside so he could continue his training, while Lalanat quietly watched from the side.
Alaric gripped his wooden swords and began his routine. Compared to the day before, every swing carried greater focus. His footwork was steadier, his movements sharper, and the determination on his face was impossible to miss.
Lalanat sat quietly, watching him in silence.
Everyone here is so good at what they love, she thought. Am I the only one who still doesn't know what I want? Everyone keeps moving forward, one step at a time... Will I ever catch up?
A teasing voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts.
"Dreaming about your future husband already, child?"
Lalanat jumped in surprise.
"Ahh! O-of course not! That's not what I'm thinking... yet!"
Elara's smile immediately widened.
"Oww... yet?"
Lalanat's face turned bright red.
"N-no! That's not what I meant! I mean... of course not!" she stammered, waving both hands frantically as she tried to explain herself.
Elara only laughed harder, showing no intention of letting her escape.
Just then, the door behind them creaked open.
"What are you two talking about?" Prince Caelin asked as he stepped outside.
Lalanat froze.
"N-no! We weren't talking about Alaric!"
Caelin blinked.
"...Alaric?"
Elara covered her mouth, barely holding back a laugh.
"Ahh... she means—"
Before she could finish, Lalanat lunged forward and covered Elara's mouth with both hands.
"Please don't!"
The two stumbled around playfully, almost losing their balance as they wrestled with each other.
A few moments later, Alaric walked over, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"What are you two doing?"
Lalanat immediately stepped back, flustered.
"N-nothing! Nothing at all!"
Alaric looked between the two of them before tilting his head.
"Hmm... I see."
Caelin smiled faintly.
"Done with your training already?"
"Yeah... for now," Alaric replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I don't want to overdo it and end up injuring myself before the actual event."
Elara nodded approvingly.
"That actually makes sense. Smart words coming from someone who's always thinking about swords..." A mischievous smile slowly appeared on her face. "...and who keeps forgetting about his wife."
Alaric blinked.
"...Wife?"
Beside them, Lalanat looked as though she might faint from embarrassment.
Trying to change the subject as quickly as possible, Alaric cleared his throat.
"By the way... are there any prizes for the Chosen Class?"
Caelin nodded.
"There are. The class that finishes in first place receives a badge that earns the respect of every other class in the academy."
He continued calmly.
"As for the individual events, the champions receive medals of bronze, silver, or gold. A student who wins the sword tournament, for example, receives a gold medal, usually presented by the king himself if he attends the ceremony. Otherwise, the academy's head presents it."
"And the team events?" Alaric asked.
"They're rewarded differently," Caelin replied. "Instead of medals, the winning teams receive trophies. Their size and design depend on the final ranking. Gold is the grandest, followed by silver, then bronze."
Alaric's eyes sparkled.
"Wow... that's a lot of prizes."
Elara folded her arms.
"Don't make that face yet. You still have to earn your spot first."
"I know," Alaric replied confidently. "Just watch me."
Elara chuckled.
"Now that's confidence. Not bad. Good luck."
Alaric smiled.
"I have to win. It's for my future."
Caelin laughed softly.
"Then let's head back before it gets too late."
Lalanat rubbed her arms.
"Yeah... it's getting cold."
Without saying anything, Elara gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Come on."
The four of them made their way back to the residence together, chatting and laughing as the cool evening breeze followed them home.
The next morning, the atmosphere inside Class Two was unusually noisy.
Students talked over one another, each trying to decide who should represent the class in the upcoming Chosen Class event. The discussion quickly dissolved into arguments, with different names being shouted from every corner of the room.
Princess Elara slowly rose from her seat.
"Everyone, please."
Her calm voice wasn't loud, but it carried enough authority to quiet the room.
"We won't solve anything by shouting over one another. Let's sit down and discuss this properly."
The classroom gradually fell silent. One by one, the students returned to their seats.
"If no one objects," Elara continued, "I'll organize the selections."
No one disagreed.
She glanced around the room before speaking again.
"Let's start with archery. Anyone who wishes to represent the class, please step forward."
Several students raised their hands before walking to the front.
Elara gave them a small nod.
"After school, you'll compete on the practice grounds. The target will be placed fifteen meters away. Whoever scores the highest will represent our class."
The volunteers nodded in agreement before returning to their seats.
"Next," Elara said, "the sword duel."
This time, only two students stood.
Alaric.
And Graneth, a noble from Caelawyn.
"The same rules apply," Elara explained. "You'll duel after school, and the winner will represent Class Two."
Both accepted without hesitation.
She glanced at the list in her hands before continuing.
"As for the drama event..."
Her eyes stopped on Lalanat.
"If everyone is alright with it, I'd like to recommend Lalanat as our scriptwriter."
The classroom immediately filled with whispers.
"Lalanat?"
"Who's that?"
"Can she actually write?"
Elara remained completely unfazed.
"I've seen enough to believe she's capable of writing a wonderful script."
Lalanat shrank into her seat, lowering her head until part of her face disappeared behind her hair.
Why me...?
What if they don't like what I write?
What if I disappoint everyone?
She quietly tightened her hands beneath the desk.
Elara continued before the silence became awkward.
"Now, for the quiz event."
Four students volunteered almost immediately.
Prince Caelin smiled apologetically.
"I'll have to decline. I have other responsibilities during the event."
The others understood and continued the discussion.
Finally, Elara looked around the room once more.
"Now... the dance competition."
Silence.
Not a single hand went up.
Elara blinked.
"...No volunteers?"
The room stayed quiet.
From the back of the classroom, Alaric casually raised a hand.
"Why don't you do it yourself?"
Every head turned toward Elara.
Almost instantly, the class burst into agreement.
"Yeah, Princess!"
"You'd be perfect!"
"Please do it!"
Elara let out a long sigh before giving in.
"...Fine."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"I'll represent the class."
Cheers immediately filled the classroom, and the earlier tension disappeared, replaced by excited chatter as everyone looked forward to the upcoming competition.
After school, the archery participants gathered on the practice grounds. Students from Class Two stood nearby, watching with curiosity as the competition began.
One after another, each contestant stepped forward and released their arrows.
Some shots landed close to the center.
Others drifted wide.
When the final arrow was fired, the results were clear.
A noble from Dravenn named Lews had scored the highest.
With a small round of applause from the class, Lews officially earned the right to represent Class Two in the archery event.
Not long afterward, the atmosphere shifted.
The practice grounds grew quiet as everyone gathered around a different section of the field.
Now it was time for the sword duel.
Alaric and Graneth stepped into the open space, wooden swords in hand.
Neither spoke.
The tension alone was enough to silence the crowd.
Prince Caelin walked between them and looked at both fighters.
"I'll be the referee."
He waited until they acknowledged him before continuing.
"The rules are simple. If you fall or lose your sword, you lose the match. Understood?"
Both nodded.
Caelin raised one hand.
"...Begin."
Silence settled over the practice grounds.
Neither moved immediately.
Alaric slowly shifted into his stance, taking one careful step backward as he raised his sword.
He's fast...
Even standing still, I can tell.
No wasted movement.
Graneth was the first to attack.
Without hesitation, he closed the distance and swung.
Clang!
Alaric blocked the strike, the impact sending a dull vibration through both of his arms.
Strong...
Too direct.
He's trying to overwhelm me before I can read him.
Graneth didn't stop.
Another swing.
Then another.
Steel struck steel repeatedly as Alaric remained on the defensive, carefully watching every movement instead of rushing to counter.
He's putting pressure on me...
But every attack has a rhythm.
His eyes followed Graneth's footwork.
The shift of his shoulders.
The slight pause before each swing.
Then...
There.
That's the opening.
Graneth stepped in once more, determined not to give Alaric even a moment to breathe.
Their wooden swords collided again.
And again.
The sound echoed across the training grounds.
If I keep blocking...
I'll lose eventually.
I have to break his rhythm.
Graneth lifted his sword for another powerful strike.
Instead of blocking...
Alaric suddenly rolled forward.
He slipped inside Graneth's reach.
Now!
His elbow drove straight into Graneth's face.
Graneth staggered backward, one hand instinctively rising toward his nose.
Too close...
I misjudged the distance.
Alaric didn't hesitate.
He pressed forward immediately, striking before Graneth could recover.
The sudden pressure forced Graneth off balance.
His grip loosened.
The wooden sword slipped from his hand.
Clack.
It hit the ground.
For a brief moment...
Everything fell silent.
I won...
Alaric thought, breathing heavily.
I didn't hesitate.
A wave of gasps spread through the crowd.
Lalanat unconsciously clenched both hands together.
Elara watched quietly, a faint smile of approval appearing on her face.
Caelin looked at the fallen sword before raising his voice.
"The match is over."
He smiled toward Alaric.
"The winner..."
"...Alaric Thandor."
Cheers immediately erupted around the practice grounds.
Alaric lowered his sword, his heartbeat still pounding in his ears as the reality of his victory slowly sank in.
By the time the final bell rang, the excitement from the duel still lingered throughout Class Two.
Students continued talking about the match as they packed their things.
Alaric stretched both arms above his head.
"Finally," he said with a grin. "Let's head back."
Lalanat and Princess Elara stood and followed him toward the classroom door.
Just as they were about to leave, Alaric stopped and looked back.
"Caelin?"
The prince looked up from his desk.
"You're not coming?"
Caelin smiled apologetically and shook his head.
"I still need to speak with the teachers. My father sent a letter, and there are a few things I need to discuss."
"I see."
Alaric nodded.
"Alright. See you later."
"See you," Caelin replied.
Lalanat and Elara smiled as well.
"See you."
The three of them left the academy together and began the familiar walk back to the residence.
For a while, none of them spoke.
The cool afternoon breeze drifted through the academy grounds as students passed them on their way home.
After a short walk, Alaric glanced toward Lalanat.
"So... Lala."
"Have you started writing the script yet?"
Before Lalanat could answer, Elara lightly flicked Alaric's forehead.
"Ow!"
"Don't pressure her, idiot."
Alaric rubbed his forehead.
"I was just asking..."
Ignoring him, Elara turned to Lalanat with a gentle smile.
"You don't have to worry about winning."
She slowed her pace slightly.
"Just write the story you want to write."
"It's okay if we don't take first place."
"I'd rather see something that's truly yours."
Lalanat lowered her eyes.
Her thoughts immediately spiraled.
What if they don't like it...?
Why did she choose me?
What if I ruin everything for the class...?
Maybe...
Maybe someone else would be better.
Her shoulders gradually sank as she stared silently at the ground.
Elara noticed almost immediately.
She shot Alaric a sharp look.
"This is your fault."
Alaric froze.
"Huh? Wait... that's not what I meant."
"I know," Elara replied.
"But you always say whatever comes into your head before thinking."
Alaric scratched the back of his neck.
"...Come on. I already apologized."
Silence settled between the three of them.
Only the sound of their footsteps remained.
As the academy residence finally came into view, Alaric slowed down.
He looked toward Lalanat again.
"But, Lala..."
His voice was quieter this time.
"I know you're scared."
He smiled awkwardly.
"I get scared too."
Lalanat slowly lifted her head.
Alaric shrugged.
"Fear doesn't really disappear."
"You just... get past it by facing it."
The moment the words left his mouth, he suddenly looked away, almost embarrassed by his own seriousness.
"A-anyway..."
He pointed toward the residence.
"Bath time!"
Without waiting for a reply, he sprinted ahead.
Elara blinked before letting out a quiet laugh.
Lalanat stood there for a moment.
Then...
A small smile slowly appeared on her face.
The weight pressing against her heart hadn't disappeared completely.
But somehow...
It felt a little lighter than before.
---
Later that evening, the four of them gathered around the dining table once again.
While Alaric, Lalanat, and Elara were halfway through dinner, Prince Caelin finally returned.
Alaric looked up, his mouth still full of food.
"Oh."
He quickly swallowed.
"Have you eaten already?"
Caelin nodded.
"I have."
"I grabbed something on the way back."
He offered them a small smile.
"You all continue eating."
"I'll clean myself up first."
With that, he quietly excused himself and headed upstairs.
Alaric watched him leave.
"...I wonder what the teachers wanted."
"He looks..."
"...kind of down."
Lalanat gently stirred the food on her plate.
"Maybe..."
"It's something we're not supposed to ask."
"Hmm..."
"I guess."
Before Alaric could say anything else—
Smack.
Elara lightly hit the back of his head.
"Finish chewing before you start talking."
Alaric rubbed the back of his head.
"Hey!"
"Don't hit me there."
"I need this for battle."
Elara folded her arms.
"You use your sword more than your brain anyway."
"But I still need my brain!"
The kitchen quickly filled with their usual bickering.
Lalanat listened quietly.
A small smile crept onto her face.
It's strange...
He never seems to think very hard before speaking...
Yet somehow...
What he says always reaches people.
She looked down at her hands.
I should do my best too.
I don't want to run away.
She quietly straightened her posture.
Alaric noticed.
"You need the bathroom?"
Lalanat nearly jumped out of her seat.
"N-no!"
"I'm fine!"
Her face immediately turned bright red, causing Elara to laugh while Alaric looked even more confused than before.
Later that evening, Lalanat sat quietly in her room, a blank sheet of paper resting on the desk before her.
She held the pen in her hand.
Yet...
Nothing came.
She stared at the empty page for several long moments before letting out a quiet sigh.
What if they don't like it...?
What if I disappoint everyone?
Her grip on the pen tightened.
The more she thought about it, the harder it became to write even a single word.
Outside, the evening breeze drifted gently through the open window.
Just then, footsteps approached from outside.
A knock followed.
"Lala?"
It was Elara.
Lalanat quickly opened the door.
"Ah... Elara."
Elara smiled.
"Still thinking about the script?"
Lalanat gave a small nod.
"I... don't know where to start."
Elara stepped inside and glanced at the untouched paper.
"You've been staring at this the whole time?"
"...Yeah."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Elara gently placed a hand on Lalanat's shoulder.
"You know..."
"I didn't choose you because I expect perfection."
Lalanat looked up.
"I chose you because I believe you'll write something sincere."
She smiled warmly.
"If people laugh..."
"They laugh."
"If they cry..."
"Then they cry."
"You can't control that."
"The only thing you can control is whether the story honestly comes from you."
Lalanat lowered her gaze.
"...Thank you."
Elara lightly patted her shoulder.
"I'll leave you to it."
As she reached the door, she stopped.
"Oh."
"And don't stay up too late."
Lalanat nodded with a small smile.
"I won't."
After Elara left, silence returned to the room.
Lalanat took a deep breath.
She looked at the blank page one more time.
Then...
She finally lowered her pen.
The first word appeared.
---
Outside the residence, Alaric was already training once again.
The familiar sound of wooden swords cutting through the air echoed across the yard.
Prince Caelin quietly stepped outside.
"Yo."
Alaric stopped mid-swing.
"Oh."
He smiled.
"Hey."
"Something up?"
Caelin shook his head.
"Not really."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Alaric rested one wooden sword against his shoulder.
"...You seemed different after talking with the teachers."
"Did something happen?"
Caelin smiled faintly.
"...Yeah."
"I asked my father for something."
"He agreed."
"...Though it might already be too late."
Alaric lowered both swords completely.
"For what?"
Caelin looked toward the evening sky before answering.
"To be honest..."
"I've always wanted to become a knight."
Alaric blinked.
"...Really?"
Caelin nodded.
"Ever since I was little..."
"I admired your father."
"I still do."
Alaric stared at him, unable to hide his surprise.
"But..."
"I'm the crown prince."
"My education was always about politics..."
"History..."
"Diplomacy..."
"I only learned enough swordsmanship to protect myself."
He smiled to himself.
"So I asked my father..."
"Before I inherit the throne..."
"...Could I spend some time walking the path of a knight?"
Alaric scratched his cheek.
"I honestly never expected that."
"I always thought you wanted to become king."
Caelin laughed softly.
"I do."
"But before that..."
"I wanted to know what it feels like to protect people with my own hands."
Alaric smiled.
"...You're more honest than I thought."
Caelin looked at him with amusement.
"That's a funny thing to hear from you."
Alaric laughed awkwardly.
"I guess..."
"...I'm being honest too."
He paused for a second.
"So..."
"You came all the way here just to tell me that?"
Caelin's smile became more serious.
"...Actually."
"I came to warn you."
"As a friend."
Alaric raised an eyebrow.
"This isn't our moment yet."
"But when that day comes..."
"I won't lose to you."
Alaric grinned immediately.
"Then why wait?"
He lifted one of his wooden swords.
"Fight me now."
"Take my spot if you can."
Caelin slowly shook his head.
"You earned that place."
"It wouldn't be right for me to take it."
Alaric pointed his sword toward him.
"I don't care."
"I want to fight strong people."
"That's how I get stronger."
Caelin smiled.
The air between them quietly changed.
Neither of them was joking anymore.
Then—
A familiar voice came from behind them.
"Why don't you duel here instead?"
Princess Elara stepped out from behind the doorway, her arms folded as she looked at the two of them.
"I've been listening for a while," she said with a faint smile. "Since Alaric only had one opponent today, I think it's only fair to see a little more of what both of you can do."
Her eyes moved from Alaric to Caelin.
"One more duel sounds reasonable, doesn't it?"
Both boys stared at her for a moment, surprised.
Alaric was the first to recover.
He casually rested his wooden sword on his shoulder and shrugged.
"I don't mind."
He smiled confidently.
"I'll gladly show you."
Caelin let out a quiet laugh.
"Are you sure?"
"I may not look like much..."
"...but I do know a few things."
Alaric lowered his sword and pointed it toward him.
"Caelin."
"I respect you."
"But if you keep hesitating..."
"...I'll start thinking you're trying to run away."
A grin slowly spread across Caelin's face.
"Then..."
"I hope you don't regret saying that."
He stepped forward, adjusting his grip on the wooden sword.
As he did...
A memory quietly resurfaced.
---
Ten years earlier.
The kingdom's training grounds echoed with the sound of clashing steel.
Young Prince Caelin wandered through the area, curiosity leading his small steps until he noticed a crowd of knights gathered in a circle.
He squeezed between them just enough to see what everyone was watching.
Two experienced knights were fighting...
Against one man.
Yet somehow...
They were the ones being pushed back.
The lone knight moved as though he could already see every attack before it happened.
Every swing was clean.
Every step deliberate.
Every movement carried overwhelming confidence without wasting even the slightest bit of strength.
Within moments...
Both opponents were disarmed.
Their swords struck the ground almost at the same time.
The surrounding knights applauded loudly.
But what truly caught Caelin's attention wasn't the victory.
It was what happened afterward.
The knight smiled warmly before walking over to the two men he had just defeated.
Instead of mocking them...
He patiently pointed out their mistakes.
"You leaned too far during that swing."
"You reacted well here."
"Next time, don't panic after losing your footing."
His voice carried neither pride nor arrogance.
Only encouragement.
Strong...
Yet humble.
Strict...
Yet kind.
Young Caelin couldn't take his eyes off him.
He tugged gently on his personal maid's sleeve.
"Who is he?"
The maid followed his gaze and smiled.
"That is Kalvein Thandor."
"The First Squad General."
"The greatest knight in the Kingdom of Bane."
Caelin stared at the man with admiration shining in his eyes.
---
Several days later.
Caelin found Kalvein training alone in one of the quieter practice fields.
After gathering every bit of courage he had, the young prince slowly approached him.
"Mister..."
Kalvein stopped his practice and turned around.
"Oh?"
He smiled kindly.
"What brings the young prince here?"
Caelin looked at the sword in Kalvein's hand.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"If you're already so strong..."
"...why do you still train every single day?"
Kalvein looked down at the blade in his hand before answering.
"A sword that isn't used..."
"...will eventually become dull."
"No matter how sharp it once was."
Caelin tilted his head.
"I don't understand."
Kalvein chuckled softly.
"You will someday."
"When you find something worth protecting."
Caelin thought about those words for a long moment.
Then another question escaped him.
"...Will I ever become as strong as you?"
Kalvein laughed.
"If you keep swinging your sword every day..."
"...and never stop improving..."
"...then yes."
From that day onward, whenever his royal duties allowed, Caelin trained under Kalvein's guidance.
Those days became some of his happiest childhood memories.
Until one day...
Kalvein retired from military service.
Their training came to an end.
Before they parted, Kalvein rested a hand gently on Caelin's shoulder.
"I have a son."
"He's around your age."
"I hope the two of you meet someday."
A warm smile appeared on his face.
"If not as friends..."
"...then perhaps as rivals on the battlefield."
---
Caelin's eyes slowly returned to the present.
Standing before him now...
...was Kalvein Thandor's son.
Alaric slowly raised his wooden sword.
"Ready?"
Caelin smiled.
"More than you know."
The two walked toward the center of the yard.
Princess Elara stepped between them, her gaze moving from one to the other.
"The rules are simple," she said calmly. "The first person to fall or lose their sword loses."
She took a few steps back.
"Ready?"
Both nodded.
"...Begin."
Silence settled over the yard.
Neither of them moved.
The evening breeze drifted quietly between them as they stood with unwavering focus, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
Caelin knew Alaric's style.
He likes to wait.
To let his opponent attack first.
He's trying to read me.
A faint smile appeared on Caelin's face.
Then I'll wait too.
Several seconds passed.
Neither budged.
Alaric narrowed his eyes.
"So that's your plan..."
He suddenly stepped forward.
His first strike came down with surprising force.
Clack!
Caelin barely raised his sword in time to block.
The impact pushed him back a step.
Before he could recover, another strike followed.
Then another.
Alaric showed no intention of slowing down.
Heavy swings rained down one after another, forcing Caelin entirely onto the defensive.
Wood crashed against wood again and again, echoing through the quiet evening.
So this...
Caelin thought through clenched teeth.
...is Kalvein's son.
Each strike carried confidence.
Each movement flowed naturally into the next.
There wasn't a single wasted motion.
I don't even have time to counter.
Another blow came.
Caelin barely slipped aside.
Then another.
His feet continued moving backward across the yard.
I can't keep defending forever.
Suddenly...
The pressure stopped.
Alaric lowered his sword slightly.
"Stop running."
His voice remained calm.
"Hit me back."
A grin spread across his face.
"Or were you just talking big?"
Caelin's grip tightened around his wooden sword.
"...Fine."
He stepped forward.
This time...
He attacked first.
Clack!
Their swords collided in a rapid exchange.
Neither of them backed away.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
Footwork scraped against the ground as both fighters searched for an opening.
The pace became faster.
Sharper.
More intense.
Alaric smiled.
He's good.
If he trained the way I did...
He might actually beat me.
The thought excited him.
Then...
Caelin swung again.
Instead of avoiding it...
Alaric stepped into the attack.
The wooden blade slid between his arm and ribs.
Pain shot through his side.
He ignored it.
"But..."
Alaric gritted his teeth.
"I've fought someone much stronger."
Before Caelin could pull his sword free...
Alaric's free hand drove forward.
Thud!
The punch landed squarely against Caelin's chest.
Caelin stumbled backward.
His grip loosened.
The wooden sword slipped from his hand.
Clack.
It rolled across the ground.
Silence.
Neither of them spoke.
Alaric's confident expression disappeared immediately.
"You okay?"
Caelin remained on one knee for a moment, catching his breath.
Then...
He laughed.
A tired, genuine laugh.
"...Yeah."
He looked up at Alaric.
"You're strong."
Alaric smiled and extended a hand.
Caelin accepted it without hesitation.
The two stood facing each other once again.
"Thanks for the match," Caelin said.
His eyes were filled with determination.
"But next time..."
"I'll be the one standing."
Alaric laughed.
"Good."
"I'll be waiting."
For a brief moment, the two simply looked at each other.
Then...
Both burst into laughter.
Watching from nearby, Elara smiled quietly.
"...Looks like you two just became real rivals."