IBLC 07

Chapter 7

The Day of Destiny
“Rosebellia, are you all right?”

At Lucas’s voice, I snapped back to my senses and nodded hastily.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

So here’s what happened: one of the fleeing squad members had bumped my shoulder—unfortunately, that “one” happened to be Raymond, the biggest man in the entire knight order. I staggered, about to fall, when none other than Ian caught me.

Wait, wasn’t he far off a moment ago? When did he get here?

“Raymond, be careful. Rose, are you sure your arm’s fine? It didn’t pop out, did it?”

As Ian helped me stand straight, Edwin came up and wiggled my arm lightly.

“W-what? Dislocated? Are you saying I did that?”

Raymond froze, eyes round as coins.

“I’m fine, Raymond. My shoulder hurts a little, but my arm’s not—”

“What? You think your shoulder’s dislocated?”

Edwin made a dramatic fuss, and I could see Raymond’s face drain of color.

For someone with that huge, intimidating build, he could be surprisingly gullible.

“Edwin, cut it out. Raymond will actually believe you.”

Raymond blinked, confused. Only when he saw Edwin smirking did realization dawn. Scratching his head awkwardly, he shuffled closer to me.

“Rosebellia, so you’re really all right?”

“Yeah. You’re big, but my shoulders aren’t that weak.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Raymond only relaxed after I rotated my shoulders three times for proof.

“Are you certain you’re fine?” Ian asked, studying my face closely.

“Of course. I was just startled, that’s all.”

“That’s… good to hear.”

Wait—did I even thank him?

“Thanks, rookie.”

“I merely did what I should. If you were hurt, Senior, that’d be unacceptable.”

His lips quirked slightly, and I instantly caught the double meaning.

“Right… can’t have me getting hurt.”

This was the same Ian who once said he could never forget the feeling of crossing swords with me. So if I were injured, he couldn’t spar with me again—hence that superhuman sprint to catch me just now.

Yeah, I see right through you, kid.

“Hey, you’re Klein, right?” Edwin asked suddenly.

“Yes, sir.”

“That protective heart of yours—very admirable.”

“Huh?”

Edwin only smiled and glanced between me and Ian.

That smile… did not bode well.

“Lucas and I will step out for a bit. You two go ahead and have a nice, private talk.”

Private? Did I hear that right?

“Ed? There’s nothing for me and the rookie to talk about.”

“Oh, I think there is. Anyway, we’ll leave you to it.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Wait—did I ever clarify that Ian’s so-called “confession” was actually just a duel request?

Oh no. If he thinks Ian still likes me—

“Hey! Edwin!”

It’s not what you think!

“Why did Senior Edwin suddenly leave us alone?” Ian asked.

“Who knows? Beats me.”

“Perhaps—”

“Actually, I have something urgent to do, so I’ll get going too.”

Leaving a confused Ian behind, I made a strategic retreat straight to the library.

The library within the knight order was as quiet as ever—exactly what I needed. Though modest in size, it had a refined air: high arched ceilings, rows of soft amber lights, and tall windows tucked neatly between bookshelves.

The breeze through one of those windows stirred the lamps, carrying the scent of old paper and worn carpet. I smiled unconsciously.

I’d always liked places like this—even in my previous life.

“Now… if only there’s something on aura in here.”

Being a knight order’s library, I had high hopes. But, as expected, books on aura were scarce. After all, even sensing aura was rare, and mastering it enough to become a Swordmaster was rarer still.

“The Great Knight of the Empire, Lawrence Glaser?”

My hand reached for the thick volume. I opened it to the first page.

“Lawrence Glaser was the pride of House Glaser and one of the few Swordmasters recorded in the history of the Ponnes Empire. This book chronicles his life and legacy.”

“Found it.”

Relief washed through me as I flipped to the chapter index.

“‘Aura, aura… ah! There it is!’”

“This chapter is based on Lawrence Glaser’s personal records regarding aura.
Aura is a blessing. Only those who have reached the peak of swordsmanship can perceive it. At first, one’s aura flow is weak—too little to be wielded.
Those who can control it are called Swordmasters.
Manifesting aura—forcing it outside the body—causes it to emit light unique to each swordsman. The color never changes in their lifetime.
A sword infused with aura can cut through anything, increasing destructive power by dozens of times.
Aura enhances physical ability and may grant limited self-healing, though this is uncertain.”

“Self-healing, huh?”

I frowned and looked at my hands. Like Lawrence Glaser’s, Rosebellias hands were unscarred. No calluses, no old cuts. Her right hand, the dominant one, was soft—too soft for someone who wielded a blade so often.

Could it be because her aura manifested through her right hand?

“Aura is a blessing…”

I turned the page—

“…but if one fails to control it properly, aura can consume the swordsman’s very life force.”

What? Consume life force?

So much for a “blessing.”

I flipped faster, hoping for some guidance—

“Unfortunately, no known method exists to control aura.”

“What kind of useless book is this?”

Rosebellia’s memories of the monster subjugation came to mind—creatures that regenerated endlessly unless struck with aura. It was there she accidentally revealed her Swordmaster-level aura to Gabriel.

If I couldn’t master aura before that mission, I might die before even reaching the story’s ending.

I slammed the book shut, sending up a cloud of dust that made me cough and wave frantically.

Great. Perfect. Just perfect.

And then… the long-awaited day arrived.
The day Daisy meets Ian.
The day her one-sided love begins—the day of destiny.

In the original story, Daisy, frail and sickly, had fallen ill just before the festival and was forbidden from going out. To cheer her up, her father, Duke Elijah, bought her a rare gemstone. Daisy was later allowed out to deliver the gem to a craftsman—and that’s when it happened.

Classic setup:
Separated from her maid, Daisy got cornered by thugs, only to be saved by Ian.
Thus began her tragic, unrequited love.

“Rose, what are we even doing here?”

“Just stay still.”

“For how long?”

We’d been wandering around the plaza since noon, and still no sign of her.

“Just a little more… wait—Edwin?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. He’d vanished.

That idiot!

I scanned the crowd furiously—and there she was.

A girl with soft brown hair and amethyst eyes. Daisy.
Exactly as I’d imagined her.

Across the street, three shady-looking men were eyeing her, closing in as soon as her maid was distracted.

Where the hell was Edwin?

Was I wrong about all this? Maybe that dream—the one where Ian and Rosebellia crossed paths differently—had been meaningless. Maybe fate couldn’t be changed after all.

If Ian appeared now, the story would repeat itself.
Daisy falls for him.
Edwin falls for Daisy.
A circle of heartbreak begins anew.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’ll regret this when you find out who I am.”

“Regret? Do you even know who we are?”

“You lay a finger on me, and my house will—”

“Oh yeah? Which house? Let’s hear this mighty name.”

Her cheeks flushed red with humiliation.

That was it. I couldn’t just stand by anymore.

“‘Always looking straight ahead,’ huh? How admirable.”

The burliest thug reached for Daisy’s wrist—
and I struck the back of his neck with my scabbard.

He crumpled instantly.

The skinny one turned, panicking.

“W-what the—”

“Might be a good idea to look behind you once in a while.”

One swift hit to his nape, and he collapsed, foaming slightly at the mouth.

The last man, a scar running down his face, swung his blade at me.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Is that really what matters right now?”

I stepped between him and Daisy, drawing my sword.

He snarled and charged.

Clang!

Our blades met—and his went flying. He stared at it dumbly.

“H-how—”

I shrugged and advanced, tapping his throat with my scabbard.

“Running won’t help.”

One more blow, and he went down.

Daisy gasped, hands over her mouth, trembling.

Wait. Did I just… save her?

Not Edwin. Not Ian.
Me.

Did I just change the story?

Before I could think further, I realized—my body wouldn’t move.

“Um…”

I looked down.

A hand was gripping the edge of my cloak.

Then a face—soft brown hair, violet eyes shimmering with gratitude.

Daisy.

“Y-yes?”

“Thank you… for saving me.”

Holy—Daisy was talking to me!

“I-It’s nothing. I’ll be on my way now—”

“Excuse me, may I know your name, Sir Knight?”

“I’m just… a passerby.”

“No passerby fights like that. You’re from the White Knights, aren’t you?”

Her eyes sparkled—bright, overwhelming, full of curiosity.

And in that moment, I knew.

Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.