"Lady Kura," a maid arrived, carrying a letter, as we were eating breakfast on the terrace. "A letter has arrived for you."
I thanked her and took the letter. I had no idea whose seal this was, but it was addressed to me without a doubt. I opened it carefully, since it was considered rude to break the seal if it was from a higher-ranking noble. At least it turned out to be something that might be entertaining.
"Who's it from?" Pearl asked.
"It's from Sir Juleburg," I said, scanning the elegant script. The parchment was thick and cream-colored, the ink a deep, steady black. The seal at the bottom bore the mark of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen—a crossed blade and feather inside a circle. "He's challenging me to a duel. At the training grounds in the Holy Knights base. This afternoon."
Refusing didn't seem to be an option. I folded the letter and set it beside my plate.
"A duel," Mia said, looking up from her place on my lap.
She insisted on sitting there during breakfast. I didn't complain. It was comfortable.
"Yeah, and it isn't just me being challenged."
I laid the letter out. Pearl, Nana and Viola were all listed. Mia and Sara were probably only spared because they were magic casters.
At the mention of her name, Nana blinked. But before she could reply, her seven identical sisters—Adin, Ithnani, Tria, Vier, Fünf, Seis, and Huit—chimed in from around the table. With all eight of them wearing their hair down in identical waves, they were an absolute nightmare to tell apart. Well, except for Nana; a quick glance at her chest made identification remarkably easy.
"Master, we were not summoned," Adin, the eldest and most sensible, said with a delicate sigh of disappointment.
"Indeed, it is a tragedy," Huit, the youngest and most energetic, bounced in her seat. "Why does Sir Juleburg ignore my blade? I am thoroughly slighted, so I state!"
"Ithnani, Tria, Vier, Fünf, and Huit share this grievance with me, I say," Seis added solemnly, nodding in unison with the rest of the flock.
Viola leaned over my shoulder, scanning the letter with a grin spreading across her face. "So he wants a piece of me too? I'm flattered."
"This is probably just an attempt to recruit me."
I already turned the king down when we met in the old capital, and I don't intend to join the Shiga Eight Swordsmen any time soon. Maybe later, once I have seen more of this world and want to settle down, I might consider it, but right now I would prefer my freedom. At least we have some time before the duel.
"So, how should we kill time until then?" I asked, folding the letter and tucking it into my sleeve.
Viola flopped back into her chair, stretching her arms behind her head. "We could go to the market district. I'm still lacking in outfits."
"Master, I wish to visit the confectioner's shop near the fountain, so I request," Nana said, her eyes bright with anticipation. "They sell cream puffs that are shaped like small animals, so I have heard."
"Those sound adorable," Sara said, her earlier tension from the museum apparently forgotten. "I wouldn't mind seeing them myself."
A trip to the market sounded pleasant enough, and it would give us time to clear our heads before the duel. I nodded. "Alright. We'll visit the confectioner's first, then you can drag me through every fabric stall in the district."
Viola pumped her fist. "That's the spirit."
Breakfast concluded without further incident. I changed into a simple tunic and trousers, practical for walking, and we set out through the castle's winding corridors toward the main gate. The morning sun had climbed higher, burning off the dew, and the streets of the capital were already alive with merchants hawking their wares and children darting between carts.
The confectioner's shop was tucked beside a fountain carved in the shape of a leaping fish, its stone scales worn smooth by centuries of hands. Nana pressed her face against the glass display case, her honey-colored hair bouncing as she pointed at the cream puffs shaped like rabbits, bears, and tiny birds.
"Master, the bear one has a smiling face, so I observe," she declared, her voice carrying a note of genuine wonder.
We bought a box of them. Nana insisted on carrying it herself, cradling it as if it were precious. The cream puffs disappeared quickly, shared among the group as we wandered through the fabric stalls. Viola haggled with a stern-faced merchant over a roll of deep blue silk, her grin widening with each counteroffer until the merchant finally threw up his hands in defeat.
By the time the bells chimed for the afternoon, we had made our way to the Holy Knights base. The building was made of white and bluish marble. Guards stood at attention on either side of the entrance, their white and silver armour catching the light. A knight approached as we reached the steps, his expression carefully neutral.
"Halt! I know not who you are, young lady, but this is the headquarters of the Order of Holy Knights. None who do not have business here may enter."
He probably thought we were a bunch of love-struck girls wanting to get a close look at the knights. We did arrive without a carriage, and our armour and weapons are still in my storage, so we don't look armed. But we were here on business, so I showed the Holy Knight my letter from Sir Juleburg, the leader of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen.
"What's this?" The knight took the letter doubtfully, but his eyes widened when he saw Sir Juleburg's seal still intact on the envelope. "I—I'm terribly sorry! I had no idea you were a guest of His Excellency Sir Juleburg!"
The knight snapped upright, apologised, and ordered his comrades to let us pass. He even offered to escort us to Sir Juleburg, which I accepted gratefully; with a party this large, we would likely have been stopped again otherwise.
The sound of swords clashing and people grunting reached us before we arrived at the training area.
"Master, I hear the sounds of battle; I report."
As the sound of clashing swords reached us, Huit latched onto my arm to inform me. Seeing this, Mia grabbed my other hand.
"There."
"Looks like they're in the middle of training."
Mia and Pearl said as we entered what looked like a small arena. A raised seating area surrounded a training area where knights sparred under Sir Juleburg's watchful eyes. There were a few other members of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen wee sitting around in the stands watching too.
"Captain Juleburg! Lady Kura has arrived!"
When we reached the arena, our Holy Knight escort called out to Sir Juleburg loudly enough to make my ears ache.
"So you've come, Hero Kura…" Sir Juleburg suddenly trailed off as he turned toward us. "…What is the meaning of this?"
He looked us up and down. None of us was wearing armour, just some simple dresses and tunics. We weren't even armed since all our gear was in my storage.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sir Juleburg repeated, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had spent decades commanding respect. His grey-flecked brows knit together as he swept his gaze over our group. "You arrive for a duel without armour or weapons?"
"They're in my storage," I said simply.
His eyes narrowed. "Storage magic?"
"Something like that."
The knights who had been sparring had stopped, their swords lowered as they watched the exchange. A few of them exchanged glances, and I caught one muttering something to his companion that made the other snort.
Sir Juleburg seemed to consider this for a moment, then gave a short, sharp nod. "Very well. I trust you did not come to waste my time."
Sir Juleburg gestured toward a doorway set into the western wall of the arena, its stone frame worn smooth by generations of knights who had passed through. "The changing rooms are through there. A squire will show you the way. I trust you will be ready when you return."
"Thank you."
The squire was a young man with a face full of freckles and nervous energy. He bowed so deeply I thought he might topple over, then led us through the doorway and down a narrow corridor. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of leather polish and clean linen. He stopped before a heavy oak door and pushed it open, revealing a spacious room lined with wooden benches and full-length mirrors. Racks of practice weapons lined one wall, and a row of privacy screens stood in the corner.
"Please make yourselves comfortable." The squire bowed again, twice this time. "If you need anything, I will be just outside."
"Thank you."
The squire closed the door behind us, and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. The room was quiet, the sounds of sparring muffled through the stone walls. I turned to find Mia already settling onto a bench near the window, her legs tucked beneath her, her emerald eyes fixed on me with that unreadable intensity she always wore.
"I will wait," she said simply.
Sara moved to sit beside her, smoothing her skirts with a practised motion. Pearl stood near the door, her arms crossed, her rabbit ears twitching as she listened to the corridor beyond. The seven sisters arranged themselves in a neat row on the opposite bench, a cascade of identical honey-colored hair and identical curious expressions.
"We will guard the door," Adin said, her voice carrying the authority of the eldest.
"Should anyone attempt to interrupt the master's preparation, they shall face our combined wrath, so I state," Huit added, pumping her small fist.
I smiled at them, then turned to the rack of practice weapons that lined the wall. My real equipment was in my storage, of course, but the room offered privacy, and that was what mattered. I reached into my storage and pulled out my armour piece by piece, laying it on the bench.
The armour came out of my storage in pieces, each one catching the lamplight with a soft, coppery gleam. The orichalcum alloy had a warmth that steel lacked, a reddish-gold sheen that seemed almost alive under the light. I laid the breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves across the bench in precise order, then pulled out the bodysuit. It was a strange thing to hold. The orichalcum fibre was woven so fine it felt like silk against my fingers, but I knew its strength. The reinforced panels where Tobkezerra hid had been layered in gleam, their surface smooth and tough as cured leather.
"Pearl, Nana, you're with me," I said, shrugging off my tunic. "Let's get suited up."
The fabric slid over my skin like cool water, conforming to every curve before settling into a second layer that moved with me rather than against me. The reinforced panels settled over my chest and stomach, and I flexed my arms experimentally. No restriction. The orichalcum fibre might as well have been tailored to my measurements.
"You do this a lot?" Viola asked from behind me, and I turned to find her already half-dressed, her lean form wrapped in the dark grey underlayer. The scars that crossed her olive skin were stark against the fabric, but she wore them like medals, unashamed. She stretched, and I caught the ripple of old muscle beneath the surface. "Strip down in front of the whole party, I mean."
"Only when getting ready for a duel."
"Shame." She grinned, grabbing her chest piece from the bench. "I was hoping for a show."
"You're impossible."
"I'm honest." She winked and turned away, beginning the familiar process of buckling her armour into place.
Nana had already wiggled into her bodysuit with an efficiency that surprised me. Still, her sisters kept poking at her chest.
"Why do you keep poking me?" Nana asked, her voice carrying that peculiar flatness it always did when she was puzzled. "I am not a pastry, so I inquire."
"Your proportions are unusual," Vier observed, pressing a finger against Nana's chest again.
"I want master to upgrade me to, I protest!" Huit jumped up and down.
"I already promised that," I said, fastening a pauldron into place. "But we have a duel to win first before I can make arrangements."
Huit deflated slightly but nodded with renewed determination. "Then I shall prove my worth in cheering, so I state!"
"Cheering is also a valuable contribution," Adin said, patting her younger sister's head.
I pulled on my gauntlets and flexed my fingers, the orichalcum plates clicking softly as they settled. Behind me, Pearl had finished her own armour and was tightening the straps with practised efficiency. Her rabbit ears swivelled toward the door, tracking something I couldn't hear.
"Voices outside," she said quietly. "A group approaching."
Viola didn't look up from her buckles. "Guards, or spectators?"
"Neither." Pearl's brow furrowed. "They sound... familiar."
I exchanged a glance with Viola, then moved to the door and pressed my eye against the gap between the frame and the hinges. The corridor beyond was bright with afternoon light, and I could make out a cluster of figures moving toward the arena entrance. Among them, a familiar shock of black hair and a confident stride.
Satou.
I pulled back from the door. "Satou's here. He's got his group with him."
"Satou?" Mia's voice carried a note of surprise from across the room. She had been silent until now, watching me with those unreadable emerald eyes. "He comes to watch?"
"Maybe," I replied as the door opened.
The door swung open before I could reach for the latch. Satou stood in the threshold, his hand still raised from knocking, a sheepish grin already spreading across his face. Behind him, a small figure peeked around waist—a girl with violet hair cut to shoulder-length, her large eyes the same shade as her hair, fixed on Satou with an intensity that bordered on devotion. It seems Arisa is in a good mood.
"Hurry up and strip, master." She even managed to make a request like that.
I blinked, then looked at Satou. His grin had frozen into something that looked more like a wince.
"Some help here?" he asked weakly.
"When has anyone been able to stop Arisa when she's in this mood?" I smiled, picked her up, and left the room. "I'll throw her into the spectator stands, but she will be back if you aren't quick enough."
"Hey, put me down!" Arisa squirmed in my arms. "Let this pure maiden treat her eyes."
She kicked her small legs, but her violet eyes were sparkling with delight at being the centre of attention. I carried her out into the corridor, past the startled squire, and into the bright afternoon light of the arena proper. The knights who had been sparring had stopped to watch, their swords forgotten in their hands.
"Lady Kura!" The freckled squire scrambled after me, wringing his hands. "Is something the matter?
"Just returning a stray," I said, lightly tossing Arisa into the stands where Lulu caught her.
I was ready to use magic to break her fall, but that wasn't necessary in the end. With a small squeak of surprise, Lulu managed to catch her sister. I don't know why Satou asked me to take Arisa away when he could use the quick change skill to get dressed without Arisa seeing anything she didn't want to. Still, if he was just taking his time like I was, then I understand. No, knowing him, I think he doesn't want people to know he has a skill like that.
The stands had grown fuller since we'd arrived. Knights and their squires and a few people who looked like staff had joined the seating. I spotted Satou's party settling into the stands. Pochi and Tama sat either side of Lulu, who was struggling to stop Arisa from running off while Liza was waiting with her spear in the training area. She was already in her armour, and I don't know how she wasn't showing any reaction to the crowd's whispers about her lizardfolk traits.
The sisters made a beeline for the stands the moment they spotted Pochi and Tama, their identical faces lighting up with identical excitement. I watched them go with a small smile, turning back to finish strapping on my greaves.
"Master! Which of us gets to hold the dog girl?" Huit's voice rang out across the arena, loud enough to make several knights turn their heads.
"And the cat girl, I also demand to know, so I state!" one of the others added—Tria, I think, though with all of them in matching outfits and their hair not styled, it was hard to tell.
The seven sisters descended upon the stands like a wave of honey-colored chaos. Pochi's tail wagged so hard it blurred, her amber eyes fixed on the strip of dried meat that Ithnani was waving like a lure. Tama, more reserved, had already accepted a piece from Vier and was nibbling it.
"Good, larval," Huit cooed, patting Pochi's head with both hands.
Pochi's whole body wiggled with delight. She leaned into the pats with a happy grin. "Pochi is a very good girl, sir! Pochi wants more meat, sir!"
"Then you shall have it," Adin declared, producing another strip from somewhere in her sleeve. "If you sit on my lap."
Pochi didn't need to be told twice. She vaulted into Adin's lap with the momentum of a cannonball, nearly knocking the wind out of the eldest sister. Adin let out an undignified oof but caught her, laughing despite herself. The other sisters immediately began competing for Tama's attention, rustling their sleeves and producing increasingly creative offerings.
"Cat girl, I have fish jerky, so I offer!" Fünf announced, holding up a small wrapped parcel.
"Fish jerky is too plain. I have cream puffs from the confectioner, so I present!" Seis countered, revealing one of the animal-shaped pastries from the box Nana had been carrying.
I tuned them out and turned back to the training area. Sir Juleburg stood at its centre, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, his eyes fixed on me with the patience of a man who had waited a long time for this moment. Behind me, Viola stood, her armour gleaming darkly in the afternoon light. Pearl followed, her rabbit ears standing tall above her helm. Nana was furthest, her honey-colored hair tied back in a practical knot, her green eyes locked on her sisters.
"Ready?" I asked them.
Viola cracked her knuckles. "Born ready."
"Master, I am prepared to defeat any who stand against us, so I report."
Pearl said nothing, but her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, and that was answer enough.
We walked across the marble floor, our footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. The knights in the stands had stopped talking. Even the sisters had paused their assault on Pochi and Tama, their identical faces turning to watch us descend into the arena proper. Sir Juleburg met us at the centre. Up close, he was bigger than he had appeared —broad-shouldered and thick-necked, his grey hair cropped short, his jaw set like granite. A magic spear rested on his shoulder.
"Hero Kura," he said, his voice carrying easily across the arena. "Are you prepared to face the challenges ahead and prove your worth in this sacred trial of strength and courage?"
I met his gaze squarely, my hand resting on the hilt of my own weapon. The orichalcum was cool beneath my fingers, a familiar weight that settled my nerves. "I am prepared, Sir Juleburg."
A flicker of approval crossed his stern features. "Good. Then let us not waste the afternoon."
He turned and strode to the centre of the training ground, his spear held loosely at his side. The knights in the stands had gone utterly silent, their eyes fixed on us with the hungry attention of men who had seen this scene play out many times before. I followed, my boots clicking against the marble in a steady rhythm.
Viola, Pearl and Nana moved off to the side. Sir Juleburg planted the butt of his spear against the marble with a sharp crack that echoed through the silent arena. The sound hung in the air, a declaration of intent.
"Whenever you are ready, Hero Kura."
I drew my holy swords. Gjallarhorn in one hand and Claidheamh Soluis in the other. A faint blue light came from the blades whenever I held them. The familiar hum of power thrummed through my palms, the blue light pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Gjallarhorn's edge caught the afternoon sun, and Claidheamh Soluis felt lighter than air in my left hand. I settled into a stance, knees bent, weight distributed evenly, the blades crossed before me.
"Hero Kura," Sir Juleburg called out, his voice carrying across the marble. "I have heard much of your exploits. A hero summoned from another world, wielding swords that glow with holy light." He circled slowly, the butt of his spear scraping against the marble in a lazy arc. "Tell me. Have you ever faced a true swordsman? Or have your victories been won against monsters and beasts that lack the cunning of a trained blade?"
I kept my stance loose, my blades crossing the space between us. His words were bait, plain and simple. Standard pre-fight posturing. I'd seen enough sparring matches during my time in this world to recognise the ritual for what it was.
"Monsters and beasts have felled plenty of trained blades," I replied, letting a hint of steel creep into my voice. "I've fought demons, and things that would make your knights weep in their beds."
A murmur rippled through the stands. Juleburg's eyes narrowed, but a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The smile on Juleburg's weathered face didn't reach his eyes.
"I'll go easy on you, but don't let your guard down if you don't want to die."
"I'll go easy on you, but don't let your guard down if you don't want to die."
I let the words hang between us, watching his eyes for any flicker of doubt. He was testing me, probing for weakness, the way old wolves did before they snapped at the throat. I didn't give him the satisfaction of showing any.
"Go easy on me?" I tilted my head, keeping my blades steady. "Are you sure that's a good idea? However, I will be sure to hold back on an elder like you?"
"Ho-ho, what a caring young woman, to show such respect for an old man like me."
Juleburg's smile widened at my response, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He planted his spear again, the crack of metal on marble punctuating his words.
"Careful, Hero Kura. Modesty can be mistaken for weakness in this arena. I have trained knights for forty years, and I have yet to meet one who bested me in a straight fight." He rolled his shoulder, the motion loose and easy. "Though I suspect you are not most knights."
"I suspect you're right," I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
Once the priests and light mages finished their enchantments, Sir Juleburg and I were covered in a protective layer.
"Activate the arena barrier."
I heard a familiar voice and saw Satou in the seating area with Lady Helmina, the gun user of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen, with an arm around Satou's neck. At Helmina's command, several Practical Magic defensive barriers formed around the battlefield.
"Let's begin," Juleburg declared, his voice echoing through the arena.
I nodded, and as soon as the ref gave the signal, the battle began. The moment the referee's hand fell, Juleburg moved. The tip of his spear glowed red, and he moved so fast that if I blinked, I would have missed him. But he isn't as fast as Pearl. I swung one of my swords, parrying the blow, and struck with the other, only to be blocked by the other end of his spear.
The impact of his block rang up my arm, a jarring vibration that travelled from my wrist to my shoulder. He was strong. Not just strong—experienced. The way he pivoted, using the spear's length to keep me at a distance, spoke of decades of practice. I disengaged, stepping back to reassess.
Juleburg didn't give me room to breathe. The spear came again, a thrust aimed at my chest that I sidestepped, then a sweep at my legs that I jumped over. The red glow at the tip intensified, and I knew he was channelling something into the weapon. I brought Gjallarhorn down in a wide arc, forcing him to pull back and parry, and used the opening to close the distance.
Up close, the spear's length became a disadvantage. I pressed in, Claidheamh Soluis flickering in quick, probing strikes. He handled it well, using the butt and shaft to deflect, his footwork shifting to keep me from circling behind him. But I could see the strain at the corners of his eyes.
"Not bad," he grunted, shoving me back with a two-handed push. "But speed alone won't win you this."
The red glow at his spear tip flared, and he swung it in a horizontal arc. A ball of red shot from the tip of his spear at me, but I used the Magic Armour skill to place multiple layers of protection on the back of my wrist and swiped it away.
The ball hit the barrier and exploded as I rushed in. The wave hit us as my sword collided with his spear. The shockwave rippled through my arms, the force of his block driving me back a step. I planted my heel, shifting my weight, and shoved forward. The blades sang against the spear's shaft, sparks cascading across the marble between us. Juleburg's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed with something like respect. He twisted the spear, hooking the butt end toward my ribs. I spun, letting it pass inches from my side, and brought Claidheamh Soluis up in a rising arc. He leaned back, the tip of the holy blade passing within a hair's breadth of his chin.
"You've got sharp instincts," he grunted, planting the spear and kicking out with a booted foot. I jumped back, and his kick caught only air.
"I've had good teachers," I said, settling back into my stance.
Juleburg straightened, the red glow at his spear tip pulsing. He was taking me seriously now, I could tell. The posturing had faded, replaced by a focused intensity that made the air feel heavier. He came at me again, faster this time. The spear was a blur of motion, thrusting and sweeping in a rhythm that spoke of countless battles. I met each strike with a parry, the holy blades singing against the spear's shaft, but I was being pushed back. Step by step, he drove me across the marble, his attacks relentless.
I needed to change the rhythm. Instead of meeting his next thrust head-on, I dropped low and swept Claidheamh Soluis at his legs. He jumped, but the motion broke his attack pattern for just a heartbeat. I used that to slam my shoulder into his chest, sending him stumbling back a step. The crowd gasped, a collective intake of breath that echoed off the marble walls. Juleburg caught himself, planting the spear butt against the ground to steady his balance. His eyes widened, then narrowed, and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Well done," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine respect. "It's been a long time since someone managed to put me off balance."
"Well done," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine respect. "It's been a long time since someone managed to put me off balance."
He straightened, rolling his shoulder with a faint crack. I felt the pressure of his intent before he moved—a shift in weight, a flex of muscle—and I was already stepping sideways when the spear came for me. This time, his strike carried more force. The spear blade whistled past my ear, close enough to ruffle my hair, and I heard the crack of displaced air as it passed. I twisted, bringing Gjallarhorn up to deflect the follow-up thrust, and Claidheamh Soluis swept low in a counter that forced him to hop back.
We circled, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the arena's silence. The knights in the stands had stopped breathing. I could feel their stares on my back, their collective tension hanging in the air like a held breath.
The spear came at me in a series of thrusts so rapid they blurred into a single silver line. I met them one after another, the clang of blade on shaft ringing out like a bell, my feet tracing backward arcs across the marble. He was pouring everything into this, and I could feel the pressure mounting, each strike carrying more weight than the last.
I parried high, then low, then spun to deflect a thrust aimed at my flank. The red glow at his spear tip flared with each impact, and I knew he was channelling something big into the next blow. I could see it in the set of his jaw, the way his muscles coiled beneath his weathered skin.
He roared, and the spear came down in a vertical slash that carried enough force to crack the marble beneath my feet. I crossed both blades above my head, absorbing the blow, and my knees buckled under the weight of it. The ground shook. I felt the stone crack beneath my boots.
For a heartbeat, I saw a gap. The spear was overextended, planted into my crossed blades with all his strength behind it. I let one blade slip, twisting my wrist so the spear slid along Claidheamh Soluis's edge instead of locking against it. The sudden loss of resistance sent his momentum forward, and I was already moving, spinning low beneath the line of his weapon.
Gjallarhorn came up in a rising arc that he couldn't stop. The flat of my blade caught him across the chest with a solid thwack that echoed through the arena, sending him stumbling back a step. Before he could recover, I closed the distance and swept his legs out from under him.
He hit the ground with a heavy thud, dust puffing up around his shoulders. I was on him in the next breath, Gjallarhorn's tip hovering a hair's breadth from his throat, Claidheamh Soluis pressing against the shaft of his spear to pin it to the marble.
The arena was silent. I could hear my own breathing, ragged and loud in my ears. Juleburg stared up at me, his chest heaving, a wild grin spreading across his weathered face.
"Yield," I said, my voice calm.
He laughed. A full, rolling laugh that startled several knights in the stands into dropping their composure.
"I yield," he said, slapping the marble with his palm.
I lowered my blades and stepped back, offering him a hand. He took it, hauling himself upright with a grunt, his grip firm and calloused. He dusted off his tunic, then looked at me with something new in his eyes. Something that might have been pride.
"Hero Kura, your strength is truly impressive."
I inclined my head, still catching my breath. "You gave me quite the workout yourself, Sir Juleburg. I haven't had to work that hard in a while."
The old knight laughed again, the sound carrying genuine warmth. He planted his spear butt against the marble and leaned on it, studying me with those weathered eyes. The stands had erupted in murmurs, the knights who had been watching now leaning toward each other, exchanging glances and whispered assessments. I caught fragments—"She really did it," "The captain never falls that fast," "Did you see that counter at the end?"—and tried not to let the attention make me uncomfortable.
<0>
"It's my turn next!"
"Hey! Don't jump the line!"
After a few rounds with other members of the Shiga Eight, I finally had the chance to take a break when Pearl and Viola took most of the attention. Liza was drawing a lot of attention herself, but after Pearl sent a man flying, everyone seemed eager to try to spar with her. Nana was also sparring, but with Sir Juleburg testing Viola, Pearl and Liza winning nonstop matches, and Pochi and Tama cutely sparing, she barely made an impact.
"""Hero Kura, what is going on here?"""
"""Hero Kura, what is going on here? I inquire."""
I feel bad saying this, but I even forgot Nana was sparring while everyone else was having flashy matches until Nana's sisters came running over to me. It's not Nana's fault. When I look at her, I can see her opponent… a member of the Shiga Eight whose name I can't remember, is having trouble getting through her defences. If Pearl's speed, Liza's skill with the spear and Viola's opponent weren't drawing so much attention, she would be the star of the show with how well she's holding up.
"She's been training in the Celivera Labyrinth," I told the sisters as I was surrounded on all sides.
At my answer, the homunculi sisters insisted that they, too, wanted to train in the labyrinth and grow stronger.
"No, Tria does not really need to get stronger…"
Tria alone objected, since cooking interested her more. But when Arisa whispered, "The labyrinth is full of tasty ingredients," she quickly changed her mind. "Tria wishes to go to the labyrinth too." After that, the sisters wanted to leave right away to train, but I managed to talk them into planning it when we return to the castle. And so we watched Nana's match until it ended in a draw.
Sir Gouen seemed to have ended the battle himself by saying, "I give up."
"I can still continue the battle, I declare."
"Nah, I give up," Sir Gouen repeated calmly. "My attacks didn't work on you. Not just my sword, but even using other moves, trying to catch you by surprise, attacking from a distance—you blocked all of it. You're a shield user on a par with the Holy Shield Sir Reilus himself."
"No, she's better."
A dry voice cut into their conversation. The speaker looked familiar: Sir Reilus, the Holy Shield of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen. In the old capital, he had accompanied the former Second Seat, Prince Sharorik, though in practice he had seemed more like the prince's babysitter than his chaperone. I imagine he was very busy keeping the prince out of trouble back then.
"It's Sir Reilus."
"He's here? I thought he was still confining you at home."
"He didn't come to quit the Shiga Eight, did he?" "No way! How would we fight powerful monsters without Sir Reilus?!"
The Holy Knights broke into animated chatter until Sir Reilus silenced them with his answer.
"Sir Juleburg sent for me. I imagine he wanted me to see the demi-human girl and the young woman you just fought."
"So he's saying that if you keep slacking off, the next generation will surpass you, huh?"
"Typical Sir Juleburg."
Sir Gouen and Sir Reilus were soon chatting comfortably, so I slipped away. Nana's sisters had already surrounded her, bombarding her with questions and praise until she looked thoroughly overwhelmed. I pushed gently through the circle and rescued her.
"Give her some room. She just finished a difficult match."
Nana moved to my side, though her expression remained subdued. "Hero Kura, I only won by default, I report."
"You blocked every attack he threw at you," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Your defence was outstanding, Nana. I'm proud of you."
She had flawlessly defended against a higher-level member of the Shiga Eight Swordsmen without relying on concealed equipment or Fortress, the cornerstone of her usual strategy. In my eyes, that was an achievement worth celebrating.
"It's true. I was the shield user among us sisters, but it seems you have surpassed me, Nana."
"Adin…"
Nana's other sisters started complimenting her again, and she seemed happier about it, so I left her and her sisters alone.
"What's the big idea? The captain and old Gouen both lost to little girls?"
"Ah, 'the Grass Cutter'…"
A broad-shouldered woman of about thirty emerged from among the Holy Knights watching at a distance. Thick muscle corded her arms and shoulders, and a sharply defined six-pack showed beneath an outfit so impractically revealing that it looked borrowed from a fantasy game. Even so, her rugged, feral features and imposing physique drew my attention far more than the exposed skin. A massive scythe, its curved blade resembling the weapon of a Grim Reaper, rested casually across her shoulders as though it weighed nothing. Her eyes gleamed with predatory interest as they settled on me and refused to look away.
"A black-haired kid—are you that hero girl I've been hearing about?" She looked me over from head to toe. "You don't look like much."
Her scythe flashed through the air, and I ducked under it. She probably would have stopped it before it hit me, but in that moment my body moved on instinct. The blade of her scythe was even covered. Still, if I hadn't walked away from Nana and her sisters, one of them could have been hit, so maybe blocking the swing would have been a better option.
"I'm Ryuona, 'the Grass Cutter,' the last seat of the Shiga Eight." She put away her scythe and yanked me over to her before I could get back up. "How about I show you our real strength, not some useless old fogey?"
"Who're you calling an old fogey?"
Sir Gouen's two-handed sword tore through the air with a thunderous whoosh, its broad blade sweeping toward Lady Ryuona with enough force to stir her hair and clothes. Still gripping me, she twisted aside with the fluid grace of a hunting leopardess, letting the sword carve harmlessly past before flashing Sir Gouen a cool, taunting smirk as I struggled to breathe. At least she wasn't strong enough to keep me trapped there, but how can she be so soft in that department while rockhard everywhere else?
"So, how about having some fun with me, little hero?"
Lady Ryuona licked her lips and unsheathed her scythe. She opened her mouth to say something, only to stiffen and suddenly whip her head around searching for something.
"Huh, I felt like I was in danger…" She muttered, looking around, but I couldn't see anything that could be dangerous but her.
There was nothing around us, and I wasn't getting any warnings, so it must be her imagination. But can someone like her jump at shadows? Maybe I should ask Satou to check his map just in case I am missing something.
<0>
"Ha… ha… not so weak then…" Lady Ryuona huffed from where she lay sprawled out on the ground.
I held back enough not to injure her, but unlike Sir Juleburg, Ryuona didn't know when to quit. No matter how many times I knocked her down, she would just smile, let out a laugh and throw herself at me again. Sometimes that was more literally than figuratively.
Ryuona was far more flexible and acrobatic than I had expected, twisting her body into improbable angles to strike from one blind spot before surging into the next with startling speed and strength. Still, it was fun to fight someone as unpredictable as her, and it was a good experience.
I was just turning to leave when I kicked something on the ground. It skidded to a stop not far away and looked like it was a small piece of metal. Maybe a piece of a broken blade. But I was wrong. Picking it up, it turned out to be a brooch. It was a brooch with an unusual design: eight swords forming a ring.
"Oh, that must have come loose during the fight." Ryuona was suddenly behind me, pressing into my back and taking the brooch from me. "The king gave it to me as proof of earning my spot on the Shiga Eight, so I probably should be more careful with it."
"You definitely should be more careful with something gifted to you by the king." Sir Juleburg told her sternly, but Ryuona just laughed it off.
"Yeah, yeah," She smiled, walking off. "I wonder if your bunny friend will be just as fun to play with."
I watched her go as Sir Juleburg shook his head before walking off himself. He must have his hands full with someone like her.
<0>
"Why…?"
I collapsed onto the desk in the office of our guest house in the castle. I was in such a good mood after having more fun than I expected duelling at the Holy Knights barracks, only to have it shattered when I saw what waited on my desk.
Multiple stacks of letters taller than me were on the desk. When a maid told me I had a message, I wasn't expecting anything like this. One pile was filled with invites to tea parties, another to balls, and the final one was what destroyed my good mood: marriage requests. I thought I managed to get out of those, but no. Offers to be my second husbands, demands to be my first husband and Viloa my second.
It will take me all night just to read all these letters and probably a full day to write replies. Maybe I should get a secretary like Hayato has. It shouldn't be too hard to find someone like her. I may have only talked to her with that magical tool Hayato gave me, but she seems to have everything organised for him.
Why now? I was beginning to think I had escaped this hell. I could guess how. People probably gave me a chance to rest after my chaotic arrival in the city, and word probably got around about my sparing matches today, so now it is open season on me.
Just looking at the pile of letters makes me groan. I don't think I'll survive my visit to the capital.