Anya’s swordsmanship was like the flow of still water. Rather than blocking Sisou’s sword, he gently deflected it before immediately thrusting in. Sisou let out an unconscious laugh as he dodged the sharp tip of Haebing.
‘The Commander needs to see this.’
This morning, Evernight had been treading on thin ice. He had never been gentle-natured to begin with, but even at the Council of Seven Dukes he was particularly low-pressure, chilling the heart of Riario, who was watching the round table where the council proceedings were taking place from a corner.
‘That’s why the other dukes don’t dare pick a fight over Tildyen’s ducal territory. Maybe it’s for the best.’
When the council ended, Riario muttered this with all the color drained from his face. The ducal council ended without much substance. Sisou, who had been eagerly anticipating what momentous discussions might take place, was filled with disappointment. The Emperor only yawned throughout the council, and as soon as it ended, took the dukes and left for the armory. He ordered that Evernight need not follow. Then Riario said he had something to ask Scholar Hakseos and left, and Sisou, suddenly finding himself alone, wandered the paths and happened to discover Anya together with Bluoa.
“Du-during a sparring match, letting your mind wander is forbidden, Sir Sisou.”
Anya said abruptly with his brow furrowed. The swords clashed with a pleasant metallic scraping sound. Anya’s attack speed increased. Generally, one-handed swords were symbolic of lightness and quick speed. For that reason, in order to deal a fatal blow to an opponent, one had to thrust much deeper or cut more widely than with other swords. However, if the opponent was a seasoned knight like Sisou, that wasn’t easy.
Sisou was extremely flexible for his tall height, and blocked Anya’s sword far too easily. Anya could tell without difficulty that he was going easy on him. His pride was hurt.
Their swords clashed once, crossing in an X shape. Beyond the sword, Sisou smiled and said to Anya.
“I apologize.”
Then a fierce attack poured down. Sabelli’s swordsmanship was also excellent, but he was originally a mage. The swordsmanship of Sisou, a senior knight of Tildyen, was on a different dimension from Sabelli’s. Anya could no longer leisurely block his sword. His entire arm tingled as he defended somewhat urgently.
《If you fight like that, you’ll never win in your lifetime.》
Dragcals whispered mockingly in his head. Anya was thinking that he really must settle things someday with this spirit who didn’t appear when needed but invaded his mind at will, when he failed to perfectly block an incoming attack.
“Your Highness, are you all right?”
As Anya rolled on the ground to avoid the attack, Sisou withdrew his sword with a flustered face.
“N-no, it’s not over yet. Don’t withdraw.”
Anya immediately got up from his position and gripped Haebing again. Sisou still examined Anya with a displeased expression. ‘If you can’t see it, feel it.’ Anya recalled the mirror room he had seen in Dragcals’ illusion. Swordsmanship isn’t about seeing the opponent, but feeling them. Not fighting while seeing with your eyes and calculating with your head, but overcoming fear and simply entrusting your body.
Anya opened his senses while recalling that memory. He lightly deflected Sisou’s sword that was fiercely flying toward his head, then smoothly turned his body and struck Sisou’s ribs with a side attack. Everything connected naturally, as if dancing.
“Oh my…”
Sisou let out a short groan. He looked at Anya with a dumbfounded face. Anya straightened his lowered body and sheathed Haebing in its scabbard from the opposite side.
“This is… grounds for revoking my senior knight qualification.”
Sisou quickly admitted that he had underestimated the prince too much. Anya had far more talent in swordsmanship than Sisou had expected. To grow to this degree in such a short time—he couldn’t gauge at all what his future might be like. A thrill similar to goosebumps arose.
“I-I know you went easy on me, sir.”
Anya said this while unable to hide his pleased expression.
“No. Carelessness is also part of one’s skill. In actual combat, regretting carelessness after being struck by an enemy would be after you’ve already lost your life. This was my oversight.”
Sisou cleanly acknowledged his defeat and extended his hand to Anya.
“May I request another sparring match next time? Then we should fight with full strength, knight to knight.”
Anya grasped Sisou’s hand readily, his emotions welling up at being acknowledged by another person for the first time. He clearly knew that he hadn’t fought with full strength, but even so, it felt like he might fly away with joy at having glimpsed his own potential.
“But… that…”
That’s when it happened. The brow of Sisou, who was facing him, wrinkled ferociously in an instant. Anya turned around following Sisou’s gaze. Buppu was walking in from the direction of the training ground entrance.
“Buppu…?”
But somehow his appearance was a mess, as if he had been badly roughed up somewhere. His head was deeply bowed and he was even limping. A shocked glance was exchanged between Anya and Sisou. The two immediately ran to Buppu.
“Buppu!”
Up close, his condition was even more of a mess. As if he’d been beaten by someone, there were still-fresh scratches around his mouth, and someone’s footprints were clearly visible on the clothes he was wearing. Anya was so shocked he covered his mouth.
“Chamberlain, who on earth did this?”
Sisou pressed urgently. Buppu couldn’t say anything and withdrew his body while hanging his head. Seeing someone who had always been kind to him, unlike others at Eos Castle, suffer such an indignity made his heart heavy. Anya brushed off the dust and dirt on his clothes with trembling hands.
“Buppu. Don’t tell me… you ended up like this because you… served the 12th Prince as a chamberlain?”
As he said this, he could feel Sisou staring intently at him. Buppu bowed his head even deeper without saying anything. He could hear him quietly apologizing, saying he was sorry. It was a familiar experience. The reason the maids at the annex had gradually disappeared in the past was probably like this too. That’s why Anya understood even when there were no servants to look after his palace. If it were him, would he be brave enough to dare approach either?
But not now. Buppu was the chamberlain of Tildyen, not some half-wit 12th Prince’s chamberlain. Whoever did this, it was an act of insulting Tildyen.
“Who did this?”
Anya asked in a voice that had turned cold.
“I’m… I’m sorry, my lady.”
Buppu trembled, unable to even meet Anya’s eyes. He pulled his neck in like a turtle and nervously looked around. Then he timidly gestured to Anya and Sisou to leave quickly, almost pleading.
“It’s, it’s okay. I’ll make sure no more harm comes to Buppu.”
“That’s right, Chamberlain! This is inexcusable. Hurry up and tell us!”
Sisou shouted with reddened eyes. Anya patted Buppu’s round shoulders soothingly. A quiet anger seeped in. Who could be doing such cowardly things behind the scenes? Anya vaguely thought of one person.
“I did it.”
And as if God were confirming that his guess was correct, Royster revealed himself from behind the tree blocking the training ground entrance. Behind him, several knights and vassals followed in a line. Sisou muttered blankly.
“Prince Royster…?”
He frowned as if his head was starting to ache at the appearance of an unexpected figure. Royster stood before Anya without giving Sisou a single glance. He closely resembled the Emperor most, being tall with a good build. Contempt and mockery passed through his eyes looking down at Anya.
“Anya. If you went to Tildyen, you should quietly play the role of mistress, yet you too, pretending to be a man, are swinging a sword?”
Royster seemed to have seen the earlier sparring match with Sisou. His gaze moved from Anya’s pale face down to the scabbard hanging at his waist. Anya could read the anger faintly forming on his expressionless face.
“What, are you also coveting the red earring like that bastard Cloy did? Getting all high and mighty after going to Tildyen—every Tom, Dick, and Harry is drooling and coveting power.”
Crack. Next to him, he could feel Sisou gritting his teeth loudly enough to make a sound. Sisou controlled his mind by constantly recalling what had happened with Bluoa. He twitched as if his body might spring forward at any moment.
“Your Highness. Tildyen has no interest in the red earring. Didn’t the Commander say as much?”
Sisou forced a smile while barely swallowing his anger. Certainly, as Anya had said, the imperial palace was a place where even small, ordinary actions stood out greatly. A corner of Sisou’s heart grew uncomfortable, wondering if this incident had happened because he had requested a sparring match with Anya.
“How impertinent. The First Prince is speaking, yet how dare a mere knight talk back!”
A knight standing beside Royster shouted loudly. At the lion-like roar, the golden cloak fluttered slightly. With a build as huge as a house and a helmet covering almost his entire face—he was Knight Commander Raniel Crom, who had visited Tildyen Rock together with Mibar.
Sisou unconsciously extended his arm to the side and moved Anya behind him. It was an instinctive protective action. A deflated sound leaked from Royster’s mouth as if finding the sight ridiculous.
“Everyone says that in front, while stabbing you in the back.”
He recalled Cloy. That bastard had pretended to have no interest in the imperial throne for over ten years, crouching in the shadows, then bared his claws when the time came. Recalling the face of that arrogant bastard Cloy strutting around the palace wearing the red earring made his mood rapidly foul. Royster spat on the ground.
‘Whether it’s that bastard or this bastard, I’ll kill all the fuckers who block my way.’
He did well to beat up Buppu whom he’d met by chance. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have seen Anya’s swordsmanship. When did that half-wit bastard grow like that? Royster’s pride was hurt and he wanted to strike down that brown hair with force right now. His cruel nature writhed.
The swordsmanship of that half-wit bastard was excellent enough that he deliberately didn’t barge right in but watched while holding his breath. Royster drew Raniel’s sword.
“Is there any guarantee you won’t do that? Draw your sword, knight of Tildyen.”
He brought the tip of the sword under Sisou’s eyes and laughed as if amused. Anya standing behind was frozen in fear.
‘Right. A bastard like that suits a face like that.’
