As Bronya and Oberon continued mocking Kiana—who was lying helplessly on the ground, muttering something about "cheap shots"—a soft, rhythmic click of heels echoed behind them.
Both turned around. Standing there, her smile graceful yet unreadable, was Rita Rossweisse.
Her posture was impeccable, her hands gently resting in front of her stomach, the very image of a maid whose every motion was deliberate and elegant. Yet, for all her poise, her smile hid an unmistakable glint of mischief.
"Oh my," Rita began softly, her voice smooth as silk, "what a shame. It seems I've missed my chance to test Miss Kiana's capability."
"Indeed, it's quite the shame," Oberon replied with equal grace, his light blue eyes narrowing faintly, "Kiana is in dire need of rest. It would be most improper to push her further, don't you think?"
Rita's lips curved slightly. "Oh? Such thoughtfulness from a man who spent the past ten minutes mocking her score. I'm rather impressed."
Oberon chuckled quietly, brushing off her jab with theatrical poise. "Mockery? No, no, my dear maid. I was merely motivating her. A good valkyrie must first be broken down before they rise again—don't you agree?"
Rita tilted her head, her smile deepening, though her eyes never softened. "Ah, how poetic. You speak as if you've broken many before."
"Perhaps or perhaps not?," Oberon said smoothly, taking a single step forward. "But you, Miss…?"
"Oh, where are my manners?" Rita curtsied with effortless grace. "Rita Rossweisse, just a humble maid passing by."
"Rita…" Oberon repeated softly, his voice wrapping around the name like velvet. "What a beautiful name for a woman whose presence alone stills the air."
Without hesitation, he reached for her hand and gently kissed the back of her gloved knuckles.
The gesture stunned the bystanders. Kiana's jaw dropped, Mei froze mid-breath, and even Bronya's usual blank stare flickered.
Rita let out a soft, airy laugh, hiding her lips behind her hand. "My, such refined manners you possess, Mr. Oberon. I fear this lady's heart might blossom if you continue to speak such honeyed words."
Oberon straightened, still smiling. "Flattery suits only those who deserve it, Miss Rita. I merely speak what I see."
"Oh? Then you must see quite well." Rita's tone dripped with subtle amusement. "Though I wonder… are those eyes as honest as they are charming?"
Oberon's smirk faltered—only slightly. "Honesty is a rare commodity, Miss Rita. Sometimes, the world prefers a beautiful lie."
"Hmm…" Rita's gaze sharpened for an instant, like a blade hidden behind a fan. "Then let us pray your lies are beautiful enough to survive mine."
For a brief moment, silence filled the room—an unspoken challenge hung between them.
Kiana blinked, whispering to Mei, "Uh… are they flirting or fighting?"
Mei sighed softly. "With them… I think it's both."
Bronya crossed her arms. "Either way, Bronya bets Kiana will still lose."
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Kiana shouted, making Oberon glance her way and chuckle quietly, breaking the tension—though both he and Rita still wore the same calculating smiles.
"Since Kiana was incapable of sparring me, how about you, Mr. Oberon? Surely, you wouldn't reject a girl's invitation to a duel?" Rita's ruby eyes gleamed mischievously, her gloved hand still resting in his, squeezing lightly as if sealing the proposal.
The corner of Oberon's lips rose into a languid smile. "Ah, that would be quite a shame, Miss Rita. I am no warrior—merely a companion. My talents dwell not in the clash of blades, but in the rhythm of support."
Rita tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening. "I sense a 'but' in your words, Mr. Oberon."
"But indeed," Oberon chuckled softly, stepping back with a sweeping motion of his hand, "who would dare refuse an invitation from such a charming lady~."
"Fufufu, what a fine gentleman you are, Mr. Oberon. Continue that, and I might truly fall for you." Rita winked teasingly, then flicked her wrist—
—SHING!
From a shimmer of crimson particles, her scythe materialized behind her, its curved blade gleaming with a dangerous sheen. The air grew colder as her playful aura shifted—grace replaced by quiet menace.
"Shall we dance?"
Oberon only smiled, extending his hand outward as faint light gathered around his palm—tiny motes glowing like drifting stars. "Then allow me to lead the first step."
The motes twisted, forming into luminous butterflies that fluttered around him, painting trails of blue-green light across the air. They dispersed, leaving behind a twirling spear—wooden, carved, and alive, its vines pulsing faintly with ethereal light.
"Beautiful… how fateful," Rita murmured, lowering herself into a stance, her scythe swirling beside her. "But do your wings merely flutter, or do they sting?"
"Depends," Oberon said with a chuckle, spinning his spear as small insects began crawling across his arm—caterpillars, beetles, butterflies—each dissolving into light particles that encircled him. "Would you prefer a sting that burns, or one that lulls you into a dream?"
Rita launched forward, her scythe slicing through the air with the elegance of a waltz. "Why not surprise me?"
The clash began.
Rita's scythe arced down in a crimson flash—only to strike the ground as Oberon dissolved into a burst of butterflies, reappearing a few steps behind her. He twirled his spear, jabbing lightly, more like teasing than attacking.
"Ah, quick as a butterfly," Rita commented, spinning on her heel to block with the pole of her scythe. Their weapons clashed briefly, sparks of light scattering like falling petals.
"Quickness is but an illusion," Oberon replied. "After all, even butterflies dance before they perish."
Rita smiled dangerously. "Then perish beautifully for me, Oberon."
She vanished. Her form flickered—reappearing at his flank, scythe already in motion. Oberon barely raised his weapon in time; wood met metal with a sharp clang. The impact sent a ripple of shimmering particles scattering outward, momentarily lighting up the arena.
From those particles, tiny winged lights burst forth—miniature butterflies that darted around Rita, forcing her to step back as they exploded into gentle pulses of force.
"Oh my," Rita laughed softly, spinning her weapon to dispel them. "Even your attacks are polite."
"I aim to please, not to harm," Oberon smiled, raising his free hand. The light around his body intensified, forming a glowing sigil beneath his feet. "But even kindness can be blinding."
The sigil pulsed—then burst into a column of shimmering light. From it emerged spectral vines and fluttering insects, weaving together in a spiral as Oberon raised his spear once more. The weapon elongated, wrapped in glowing filaments like a cocoon.
Rita's eyes narrowed, her instincts sharpening. He's focusing energy…
With a graceful spin, she dashed forward again, her scythe sweeping low. But just as the blade grazed Oberon's side—
He shattered into light.
Butterflies—hundreds of them—exploded outward, swarming around Rita. Their wings released radiant dust, briefly disorienting her vision.
From behind, Oberon's voice whispered softly, "You rely too much on sight, Miss Rita."
Her eyes widened as a spear point rested near her neck—close enough to feel its faint warmth.
For a long moment, neither moved. The butterflies circled them in glowing spirals, their light fading into a quiet hum.
Then Rita exhaled softly, a genuine smile crossing her lips. "My, my… it seems I underestimated you, Mr. Oberon."
Oberon lowered his spear with a light chuckle. "You flatter me, Miss Rita. I merely defended myself. Had you truly wished to harm me, I doubt I'd still be standing."
Rita twirled her scythe and let it dissolve into motes of crimson. "Perhaps… though I think I've seen enough." Her gaze softened, yet her eyes still sparkled with intrigue. "A man who hides his power behind charm—how mysterious."
Oberon leaned slightly closer, his tone teasing. "And a maid who hides her blades behind smiles—how dangerous."
Their eyes met—sharp, amused, dangerous, and yet strangely respectful.
From the sideline, Kiana blinked rapidly. "...Did they just flirt while fighting?"
Bronya sighed. "Bronya confirms. That was… disturbing."
Mei giggled softly, hiding her smile. "At least no one's hurt."
"Well then, Mr. Oberon. I believe I've already taken too much of your time. As much as I am intrigued to remain by your side and continue this rather adequate conversation, time has taken its toll on us. The sun has already set."
Her ruby eyes lifted to the horizon behind him, where the orange-yellow light bathed Oberon in a soft glow.
"Indeed, Miss Rita. A fitting end for such a beautiful dance with a gorgeous lady like yourself, don't you think?" Oberon said with a light wink.
Rita chuckled softly, covering her mouth with elegant grace. With a proper bow, she spread the hem of her maid dress, bent her knees slightly, and rose again with perfect poise.
"Farewell, Mr. Oberon." She smiled, then turned to give a polite nod to Kiana, Mei, and Bronya.
Her silhouette faded into the twilight as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The remaining students began to gather their belongings, heading toward the dorms as the final rays vanished.
"With that," Oberon said, clapping his hands together, "the midterm exam officially ends. Let's head back—it's getting dark, and I bet you're all starving."
"Yahh! Food time!" Kiana shouted, jumping up immediately. Mei followed with a chuckle, brushing the dust from her clothes as Bronya continued to mock them both in her usual monotone way.
Oberon watched them fondly, a soft smile crossing his lips.
"My, how interesting…" he murmured to himself before following behind.
---
Later that night...
The stars shimmered faintly over St. Freya's quiet campus. Leaning against a wall in the shadows, Rita pressed a small communicator to her ear.
"Bishop, good evening," she greeted, her voice low and composed.
"Ah, Rita. How did the assignment go?" Otto's voice carried through the device, calm but curious.
"I'm afraid I wasn't able to test K-423's full capability. Fu Hua sparred with her before I could intervene."
"Oh? That can't be helped then." A brief pause. "So, what about him?"
"Oberon," Rita answered, her tone thoughtful. "He's… interesting. His movements were refined, almost unnatural. His abilities—unknown, yet terrifyingly controlled."
Otto hummed in amusement. "Yes… I watched the recording. Oberon is an unpredictable variable, a man shrouded in mystery. How intriguing. Hah, what a twist of fate."
Rita smiled faintly. "Miss Theresa was not exactly pleased with your orders, Bishop. I presume she'll call soon and demand an explanation."
"I expected as much. Oh, and Rita—one more thing."
"Yes, Bishop Otto?"
"Be my eyes. Watch him. Learn what you can about Oberon… as much as needed."
"I understand," she replied, bowing slightly even though no one could see her.
"Good. Now, I must go—some insolent player just beat my score in Kallen Fantasy IV!"
The line cut abruptly, leaving only silence. Rita sighed, a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face.
She pushed away from the wall and began walking toward the dorms. Her ruby eyes glimmered faintly beneath the moonlight.
"And once again," she whispered to the quiet night, "our paths cross, Mr. Oberon. How very… romantic, isn't it?"
[END]
AND ANOTHER CHAPTER IS DONE, ANYHOW, CIAO~