Chapter: 6
In the meantime, the cockatrice raised the sharp tip of its beak toward the bandit it had paralyzed with poison. Even with the monster right in front of him, the man could only tremble, unable to move a single inch.
The cockatrice stabbed downward with its beak.
Crack!
But Jeanne was faster, yanking the man by his collar before the attack could land. As a result, the monster only gouged uselessly into the ground.
Apparently enraged, the creature let out a bizarre screech and threatened her. The stench of blood and rot poured from its mouth.
“Ugh, that smell.”
Jeanne frowned and roughly dumped the convulsing man deeper into the bushes.
“P-please, spare me.”
“You’re not going to die, so shut up and stay still.”
Snapping at the bandit’s whining, she leveled the tip of her sword at the cockatrice.
Sensing her aura and holy power, the cockatrice switched targets to Jeanne and lashed out, its tail sharpened like a blade.
But to her eyes, the monster’s movements were completely transparent. Jeanne calmly sidestepped outward and then swung her sword down in a wide vertical arc.
Slash!
Thanks to the blade wrapped in aura, the tail was severed cleanly, without resistance. As the cockatrice screamed in pain, Jeanne swiftly leapt onto its back.
Crunch!
She drove the sword straight into the top of its head. Aura pierced its tough body, and she poured holy power into the wound without restraint.
The massive body swayed once, then collapsed limply. As the monster slammed to the ground, Jeanne lightly jumped away.
I really do feel lighter. Must be because I’m ten years younger.
She clenched and unclenched her hand in satisfaction.
Her relief was brief. Heavy footsteps thundered from the bushes. When she turned, six cockatrices burst out in a line.
“Oh. Right.”
She’d briefly forgotten that they traveled in groups of over a dozen. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Jeanne tightened her grip on her sword.
She was about to push off the ground and strike first when one of the cockatrices whipped its tail and extinguished the campfire.
With her vision cut off, she would have to fight relying only on hearing, instinct, and her knowledge of the cockatrice’s behavior patterns.
It was annoying, but not impossible. Just as Jeanne adjusted her stance—
“Duck!”
At the shout, a massive slash flew in from afar. Sensing it, Jeanne instantly flattened herself against the ground.
The flexible yet powerful strike skimmed over her head and decapitated the entire group of cockatrices in a single blow. It was like a red panther snatching its prey.
Blood erupted like fountains from the severed necks, and Jeanne ended up drenched head to toe in monster gore.
Damn it. Smells like raw chicken.
She was used to being splattered with monster blood from her previous life, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant.
As she pushed herself up, a single torchlight drew closer through the bushes. The area brightened, and soon a man emerged into view.
The deep crease in her brow, formed by the stench of blood, smoothed out the moment she saw him.
Tall stature, long legs, broad shoulders, a solid chest—and red eyes that reminded her of rubies.
“Claude?”
Half in disbelief, Jeanne murmured his name while pointing at the man who had butchered the cockatrices.
“…Jeanne.”
He, too, looked as though he couldn’t believe his eyes as he held the torch closer to her face.
There was no doubt about it. He was Claude de Lorraine, the lord of the Grand Duchy of Lorraine.
No—why is he here?
She had expected to meet him in the capital, not in a place like this.
This reunion was nothing like she had imagined, and she was momentarily flustered. Trying to look as natural as possible, she raised her hand first.
“H-hey, long time no see! You’ve been well, right?”
Her voice came out strangely, like a badly blown flute. The angle of her hand, the trembling corners of her mouth—nothing about her was natural.
This is driving me crazy. How did I usually act around him?
From Claude’s perspective, this was their first meeting since the graduation ball two months ago. For Jeanne, it wasn’t.
The last time she had seen Claude was seven years into her service in the Royal Knights, at a banquet celebrating the reclamation of the northern territories from the Demon King’s army.
They had been classmates reunited after a long time, but they couldn’t speak freely. It was bitter knowing that only she and Claude had survived from their class, and the difference in status made it impossible to talk as casually as they had at the academy.
At that banquet, they had only exchanged a brief glance in greeting. Three years later, she was burned at the stake—and counting the time she had reincarnated and lived in South Korea, it had been roughly thirty years since then.
In other words, the Claude standing in front of her felt unbearably awkward.
She cautiously watched to see how he would react to her stiff greeting.
But strangely, he remained silent. When the silence grew uncomfortable, Jeanne spoke up carefully.
“Um… Claude?”
“Is it really… you, Jeanne?”
“Of course it’s me. What, do you think I’m fake?”
Claude muttered to himself with a dazed expression. Seeing that he looked even more shocked than she felt, Jeanne finally relaxed her shoulders.
Thanks to that, she could face him a little more comfortably.
“Anyway, it’s good to see you. But why are you here? Alone, this late at night?”
“That’s what I want to ask you. Ms. Eternal Second Place.”
“What the hell! I told you not to call me that!”
Claude had always called her “eternal second place.” Every time, Jeanne would grit her teeth and swear she’d wipe that smug look off his face—but she never once succeeded.
No matter how many nights she stayed up studying and training, she could never surpass Claude.
It got so bad that the academy coined the phrase “Of Course First Is Claude.”
Every semester, when the grade lists were posted, Claude would say this to her:
Try a little harder next semester. E-ter-nal-ly, se-cond.
I can’t believe I forgot about that.
All the pent-up frustration from those memories surged back at once, making her stomach churn.
Unaware of her turmoil, Claude chuckled in a low voice.
“Seeing you get worked up like that—yeah. It’s definitely you.”
“…Are you picking a fight with me right now?”
“Of course not. I’m just happy to see you. I’ve got a lot of questions, but…”
He looked her up and down.
“First, let’s move somewhere else. You don’t want to become bait for monsters, do you?”
Following his gaze, Jeanne examined herself. Her hair and clothes were stained an unpleasant red with cockatrice blood.
“Well… no.”
“There’s a cabin nearby—”
As Claude pointed back the way he came with his thumb, a rustling sound came from the bushes.
He reflexively drew his sword and stepped between Jeanne and the undergrowth.
“Oh. Right.”
“What is that?”
“A bandit.”
Saying there was no need to be on guard, Jeanne borrowed the torch and walked toward the bushes. In the firelight, a bandit came into view, drenched in cold sweat and groaning.
Claude followed and glanced at the man’s leg, immediately understanding the situation and nodding.
“Looks like he got stabbed by a cockatrice.”
“He was in the way, so I tossed him aside. Then I forgot about him.”
“But why was he lying around here alone?”
“Four of them attacked me earlier. One got taken out by a cockatrice, and two ran off.”
“Wait.”
Something in her answer caught his attention, and Claude cut her off.
“They attacked you?”
“Yeah.”
“You?”
“Obviously. I was a young woman all alone—they thought they could do something.”
“….”
When there was no response, Jeanne looked over. Claude was frowning deeply, as if fed up, before letting out a heavy sigh that seemed to sink into the ground.
“What? What is it?”
“Yeah… you really are Jeanne.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always at the center of incidents, completely unaware of how dangerous the world is…”
He took a long step toward her.
Before she could react to the sudden closeness, Claude’s index finger lightly tapped her forehead.
“Troublemaker Jeanne Leclerc.”
Jeanne’s mind went blank at his sudden action. Amused by her expression, Claude snorted with laughter and stepped back.
Only then did she realize he had teased her again, and she scowled.
Why is he touching my forehead?
Rubbing it as if to wipe it clean, Jeanne shot back.
“When have I ever done that?”
“Oh? You don’t remember? Then shall we start with the time you beat up Count St. Paul the Lesser and his attendants at the entrance ceremony and got summoned by the professor?”
He remembers everything.
“That was because they picked a fight first, calling me a commoner.”
“And do you remember almost being punished for insulting a noble?”
“School rule number one: ‘At the Royal Military Academy, all are equal regardless of status.’ So that’s why I spoke casually to you—”
She was about to finish with “—in the first place.”
But suddenly, a single fact occurred to her.
At school, it had been allowed by the rules. But now, neither of them were students anymore.
She was a commoner without even a knighthood. The man in front of her was a grand duke ruling over his lands.
A commoner speaking casually to a grand duke—she’d have no excuse even if her tongue were cut out.
“…But now that we’ve graduated, should I use honorifics… sir?”
As she lifted the end of her sentence, Claude let out a small laugh and shook his head.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to hear ‘Your Grace’ from you.”
