Seven returned to his room, breathing heavily.
The climb from the village had taken more out of him than he expected. His chest rose and fell as he slumped against the desk.
"Damn it… I can't think of anything."
He dragged a hand through his hair before turning around to look at the calendar pinned to the door of the adjoined bathroom.
"Should I just tell Heinrich I want to join the ranks? No… that would be disrespectful after all these years."
Even so, considering how serious the situation was and his upcoming predicament, he had prepared himself to endure a little scorn.
"Fudge. I'm the lord, and they are my knights. What am I even afraid of?"
He grabbed the pen from the desk and stabbed it down onto the calendar.
Scribble, scribble!
The 2nd day of Bruma already bore a circle. He had first thought doing that was sort of a countdown, but it actually meant he had attempted to form a ring that day.
Thus, he scribbled X repeatedly over the circle, hard enough that the parchment almost tore.
Creak!
He left the room.
The gate of the manor at the far end of the courtyard was visible through the window, a knight was standing guard beside it.
"...Heinrich."
Heinrich rarely patrolled the premises even when the knights took turns in patrolling the manor's premises. He only stood there almost everyday, like a statue.
Step, step.
Before the staircase leading to the ground floor, Seven passed a room labeled as a library.
Curious, he reached for the doorknob. It was locked. He even had no memory of entering this room either, as if this place was off limits to Seven Hart.
"Strange. I should ask Iria about…"
"Ah. May I ask what you are going, my lord?"
Iria crossed paths with him, walking up the stairs whilst holding a tray with a steaming bowl resting on it.
"I figured you would be in your room reading books at this time of the day."
"Iria."
Seven locked his gaze on hers, stern expression.
"Yes?"
"I've made up my mind. I'm going to train with the sword."
"Pardon?"
"I refuse to live the rest of my life bound by this curse. I won't sit still and wait for fate to decide the ending written for me."
He stretched out his hand toward the gate before slowly curling it into a tight fist.
"I'll change it myself. And if I die… at least I died trying."
"…"
Iria stared at him blankly and said nothing.
Nearly a full minute of silence settled over the hallway, and he slowly began to sweat under her unmoving gaze.
'I know that was cringe, but isn't that how these speeches are supposed to work? Hey, say something!'
Ding!
> Pfft! Are you serious?
'Not you. Get lost!'
"As you wish, my lord."
At last, Iria gave a small nod.
"I will inform Sir Heinrich immediately. For now, please return to your room and have some of the potato stew I prepared."
But…
Seven suddenly grabbed the bowl.
The thought of relying on someone else to pass along his intentions felt like the behavior of an uncool character.
"Damn it all!"
Tilting the bowl back, he gulped the entire thing down in a single go.
He knew the potato stew had just been made and was still steaming hot, but that was the last thing that mattered right now.
The moment the stew slid down his throat, his entire body felt like it had been set on fire. The bowl fell from his hands.
"Pwah! Graaah! Hot, hot, hot! My throat… it's burning!"
Iria quickly set the tray aside and placed a hand over his throat, casting a small spell. A faint green glow surrounded his neck, easing the burning pain.
"Please do not repeat such foolishness, my lord. That could have been extremely dangerous."
Seven coughed violently. Despite the droplet of tears forming in his eyes, he forced himself to straighten his posture and he showed no regret.
After all, he knew Iria would heal him anyway. That was the quickest way to prove his blind determination.
"Back to it. I… cough! will inform Heinrich myself. You know I would climb even the highest cloud if I set my mind to it."
"You… are completely right, my lord."
Iria sighed softly.
Simply put, Iria knew nothing could stop the lord once he had made up his mind. He had always been like this, and his repeated attempts to form his first ring over the years were proof enough.
Perhaps it was not determination, but desperation.
Regardless…
"But it seems a snowstorm may arrive soon. The snowfall has increased slightly today. This should help you bear the cold, just as it did in the village, my lord."
"…Aight."
Iria finished casting the thin barrier spell, and Seven gave in to a passing intrusive thought— he reached forward and gently pinched her cheeks.
"..."
"..."
They stared at each other.
Iria's expression did not change in the slightest.
"I—"
"I do not mind, my lord. You may keep your hands there longer if you wish. Skin contact can sometimes be a good source of warmth."
"N-no. It was just a joke."
He quickly pulled his hands back.
Without another word, Iria crouched down and picked up the bowl Seven had dropped earlier.
"If that is the case, my lord, please try not to push yourself too much. I shall be watching over you after I finish my chores."
"I… I'll keep that in mind."
Bowing slightly, Iria turned and walked down the stairs toward the kitchen.
Seven remained where he stood.
He stared down at his hands, slowly flexing his fingers. He could still remember the feeling: those ultra hyper and super soft, cotton-like cheeks.
But…
"…Damn it. What the fudge did I just do?"
- – – 777 – – -
Heinrich stood by the gate.
Snowfall began to pile along the yard, and the already pale sunlight grew dimmer with each passing second as gray clouds slowly covered the sky.
Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about the young lord.
Heinrich could not sense even the faintest trace of a zi ring from him, but the young lord's gaze and demeanor were still as fierce as any true descendant of House Hart.
'If only the young lord had the resolve to walk the path of the sword…'
Heinrich quickly dismissed the thought.
The young lord had never stepped outside the manor before, earlier being a rare exception. There was no point forcing him toward the sword now.
After all, the young lord's birthday ceremony was approaching.
Once it arrived, Heinrich would finally be free to return to the main dukedom and serve properly as a knight, rather than spending his days guarding this quiet estate and only visiting the capital once in a while.
His only task here was simple: keep the young lord safe until that ceremony.
Then again, Heinrich was a paragon knight, meaning he had 3 zi rings formed. Truth be told, he had already decided to have a family once this was over having enough savings after spending 15 years in this peaceful manor.
"This sword now gathers rust. I cannot pass this unto my future son in such dishonor. Hoah…"
Heinrich yawned.
He hadn't slept a wink the previous night for some reason, the kind of feeling that something bad would happen if he kept his guard down.
Step, step.
Light footsteps echoed across the silent yard.
A young man walked across the courtyard toward him. His dark-brown hair, touched with black near the surface, caught the dim winter light.
Heinrich immediately knelt.
"I greet the young lord."
Seven stopped a few steps in front of him.
"Heinrich."
"Yes?"
Heinrich looked up slowly, still kneeling. He didn't understand the young lord's intention, yet for some reason he felt a strange excitement stirring in his chest.
Seven gulped.
He had practiced this line repeatedly on his way here, yet now that the moment had arrived, he still felt a little nervous.
"I want to join the ranks as a knight trainee."