Episode 3
The northern sparring grounds of the dormitory were packed with cadets who had gathered after hearing the rumors.
As Sia stretched her arms and warmed up, someone ran over.
“Sia! What’s going on?!”
“…Riana?”
A female cadet with neatly cut short hair and bright blue eyes grabbed Sia’s hand. There were tears welling in her eyes.
“Are you going to spar with Drake again? Please don’t. Did you already forget what happened three days ago?”
Riana Fromuth was one of the few female knight cadets at Rivendell Knight Academy and one of the rare peers Sia would actually speak to.
In the future, she became a private swordsmanship instructor for a count’s daughter and ended up imprisoned after speaking out for Sia, who had become a prisoner of war.
“The last I heard, she had fallen ill with a fever while in prison…”
Sia was glad to see her again, but this wasn’t a moment she could fully enjoy that joy.
Krion, who was snorting and fuming across from her, growled impatiently.
“You wench, get over here! We’re starting!”
In their hands were real swords taken from the armory.
Sia tapped the tip of her sword against the ground a few times to test its durability.
Since this had happened so suddenly, at least there probably hadn’t been time to tamper with the weapon.
“Riana, step back. You’ll get hurt if you stay close.”
Realizing there was no persuading Sia, Riana wiped her tears and reluctantly moved away.
Just as she sat down, without anyone asking, a cadet stepped in to act as a referee and blew his whistle.
“Then, the match begins!”
Fweeeee!
Before the whistle even faded, Krion charged forward.
As the sword whooshed through the air, the crowd erupted in cheers.
They were Krion’s lackeys and the group that always took issue with female cadets.
They shouted cheers and jeers in equal measure.
“Nice, Krion! Show her what you’ve got!”
“Break her sword this time, not her hair!”
Hearing their support, Krion’s attacks grew faster.
His specialty was brute strength.
With his natural muscle mass and bulky frame, his strikes had enough weight to knock the swords out of most male cadets’ hands.
Three days ago, he had used that exact skill to slice off Sia’s hair. Naturally, he intended to do the same today.
He confidently swung five or six times before realizing something was off.
While he attacked, the opponent never once clashed swords with him.
She was dodging everything lightly and effortlessly.
“What kind of slippery technique did you pick up…?!”
Meanwhile, Sia was growing more and more exasperated with each of her movements.
Not at Krion—but at herself from three days ago. No, from five years ago.
“I actually got beaten by this slow oaf? Me?”
Back then, Krion’s sword terrified her.
The impact when blocking his attacks was so intense that she instinctively shrank back.
But now, she could read his every move.
Where his hands would go, how he’d angle his blade, which part of her body he was aiming for…
He was probably trying to think strategically, but it was all far too simple.
Even a bear they’d run into while camping in the forest would be more agile than this.
“What are you doing, Krion? None of your hits are landing!”
“Push harder, you sluggish worm!”
“Sh-Shut up! Shut your damn mouths!”
The crowd’s heckling irritated Krion, but the more desperate he got, the harder it became to catch Sia.
Sia watched his futile attacks and smirked.
That smirk made Krion finally snap.
He raised his sword high into the air.
“You dare—?!”
He didn’t finish.
Sia had dashed into his guard and struck his armpit hard with her hilt.
The sudden shock made Krion drop his sword.
It rolled helplessly across the edge of the sparring ground.
As he reeled from the blow, Sia landed a solid punch to his face.
“Uaaagh!”
Krion charged with arms wide like a fool.
For someone who had been training for two years, it was a laughably reckless move.
Sia took a step back, slid her foot forward, and lightly lifted her sword.
Krion tripped on her foot and stumbled, and the tip of Sia’s sword sliced a clean chunk from his curly hair.
Exactly the same spot he had cut from Sia’s hair three days ago.
At that moment, everyone watching understood:
Krion Drake was no match for Sia Ermodian.
No matter how much he raged, he would only embarrass himself.
What had been a chaotic, festive sparring match now fell silent.
Amid the quiet, someone suddenly burst through the doors of the training ground.
“Instructor Rygles!”
One of the cadets called out.
Sia also turned her eyes to the unexpected visitor.
An instructor had come after hearing of the students’ fight.
As his golden eyes met hers, Sia was reminded of her first sparring match with Krion.
Her weapon was broken, her hair was cut…
Even back then, Gilead had been there, watching.
She hadn’t expected kindness. She could even endure being punished for breaking the rules.
But he hadn’t needed to look at her with those cold, contemptuous eyes—
Like she was nothing but worthless trash.
Moments ago, she had been calm.
With years of field experience, messing around with a cadet like this was child’s play.
But seeing Gilead again stirred up long-buried resentment.
“What’s with the panic? I just trimmed Candidate Drake’s hair a little. Isn’t that right, Drake?”
Gilead’s brow furrowed.
Seeing that, Sia knew he remembered Krion’s excuse from three days ago.
“What nonsense are you spouting…”
“So when Drake says it, it’s a mitigating factor, but when I say it, it’s nonsense? Isn’t that the real nonsense?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, emotions surged like a geyser.
Sia flung her arms forward in rage, her blade gleaming coldly with every motion.
The onlookers instinctively shrank back—but Gilead merely watched in silence.
His stoicism, so identical to the past, infuriated her.
“You knew I was the one getting hurt, and yet you only ever punished me! What did I do wrong?!”
“On the battlefield, a superior’s command is the law. If you can’t follow that even now, you should leave.”
As the air grew tense between the two, Sia spotted Krion trying to sneak away.
There was no way she’d let that slide.
“Stop right there, Krion Drake!”
Her voice rang through the silent sparring grounds.
Krion froze like her words had shackled his feet.
Step by step, Sia approached, and his body trembled like a leaf.
“Our salon appointment isn’t over yet, dear customer.”
“S-Sia… we’re classmates, right? Please, not the hair… anything but the hair…”
Maybe he really thought he’d go bald—Krion begged for his life, groveling.
But had he hesitated even a little when tormenting her before?
No.
That alone was enough.
Sia raised her sword.
“One… two… three—!”
“Wait! Wait! Nooooo!”
Krion curled into a ball, clutching his head.
Just as Sia’s blade came down—
Clang!
It struck not soft hair, but cold metal.
Their eyes met across the locked blades.
A black-haired man calmly ordered her:
“Stand down, Ermodian. That’s enough.”
“No.”
She hadn’t shaved his head yet.
And she wasn’t in the mood to obediently follow orders either.
Hearing her refusal, Gilead pressed forward with strength.
Clang! The forceful impact pushed Sia back.
His shadow, backlit by the sun, stretched long across the ground.
“Ermodian. As your guardian, it is my duty to protect you until the end. And this time, I will not avoid confronting you. Even if it costs me my life.”
The word “death” made Sia flinch.
What was this strange feeling?
Was it simply because he’d spoken such a weighty word?
Or was it something else…
As silence fell again, the instructor slowly raised his sword.
Its sharp tip gleamed as it pointed directly at his student.
“From this moment forward, I will personally educate you.”
