Even after being given the means to appear more presentable, the fiery youth's stubborn nature remains unchanged. There is not even a hint of gratitude, for he had done it all under threat. And so, he continues to harbor resentment toward Liam.
Cedric pulls out a chair and sits across from Liam. Lifting his chin slightly to give an arrogant glare, he asserts his stance.
"I know you're stronger than me. But that doesn't mean I'll bow to you. You can't keep pressing me forever with the threat of sending me to Carrion Prison."
Liam stays silent, letting the young man continue to speak.
"If you're expecting an aide who'll bow to you, keep dreaming and see how long you can endure having one like me."
Liam's right hand points to the pouch of coins still lying on the table.
"Take it, that's your first pay."
In an instant, Cedric's arrogant face shifts, overtaken by surprise.
"T-that much…." His voice grows faint, laced with disbelief.
The pouch Liam gestures to is still heavy with plenty of coins.
"Before I change my mind."
Those words spur Cedric's hand to snatch the coin pouch from in front of Liam as fast as he can. Even though it now belongs to him, the fiery youth can't help but remain bewildered.
"Do you always pay your aide this much?"
"You're the first aide I've ever paid with my own money."
Cedric doesn't quite understand what he means. Liam continues his words with a firm tone.
"I value your ability. Do your job well."
Cedric's resolve feels shaken, as if his earlier arrogance hasn't bothered Liam in the slightest. He's left uncertain—should he still treat the man before him as an enemy, or as a generous master?
That confusion makes him grumble,
"Typical noble."
Cedric quickly slips the pouch of coins into the pocket of his gray coat.
"This is only until I see you safely back to your home in Argoust. After that, I'll go my own way," Cedric says firmly.
"You still won't tell me what makes you hold such a grudge against the Grand Master?" Liam remains curious about the matter. "I can't believe your only reason is being rejected as his disciple."
That question draws Cedric into a cold silence, his eyes burning with a suppressed fury. His expression makes it clear to Liam that the matter with Lutzer Swan is not to be pressed further. Liam doesn't expect an answer anytime soon anyway, so he lets it slide for now.
A young girl in a maid's uniform comes and serves food and drinks at Liam and Cedric's table. Cedric stares at the warm dishes placed before him, briefly captivated—until Liam's voice interrupts.
"After we get horses, we'll head to the border through the rocky hill path."
Cedric frowns in puzzlement. "You do know there's a faster route to the border, right? Don't test my knowledge of Carrion's territory."
The maid, still bowing as she sets down the dishes, slows her movements slightly. For a moment, the corner of her eye flicks toward Liam, as if trying to follow the conversation.
"I enjoy riding at high speed. If we take the usual route, we'll run into too many other riders. Let's find good horses."
"Fine by me, we can make it a horse race. If you lose, you'd better prepare extra pay for me."
"Oh, look at that. Someone's getting greedy."
Cedric falls silent at the sharp jab.
Once all the dishes are neatly arranged on the table, the young waitress puts on her usual friendly smile.
"Please enjoy your meal, gentlemen."
"Thank you, miss," Liam responds politely.
Cedric picks up his spoon and fork. Before taking a bite of the food, he pauses, staring at the meal for a moment then closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if offering a silent prayer. Only then does he begin to eat.
It's a gesture that catches Liam's attention—a troublemaking youth who still takes the time to pray before a meal.
One of the three burly men calls out for another round of drinks from the serving girl. She hurries back inside the tavern to prepare it. While stirring the steaming broth in his bowl, Liam keeps a careful eye on her movements.
The extra drinks are brought out and placed before the three men. Not long after finishing them, the trio rises from their seats and leaves.
Only then does Liam speak quietly, just as Cedric is about to finish off the contents of his bowl. To Liam's mild surprise, Cedric eats with remarkable speed—whether out of greed or simple hunger, it's hard to tell.
"Get ready for your first task."
Cedric looks puzzled, wiping the broth from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
Liam continues, his gaze fixed on the group of burly men now far enough from sight.
"Some assassins will be joining our journey."
His cold gaze shifts back to Cedric.
"Deal with them—without letting a single drop of blood touch my clothes."
.
Grand Master Lutzer Swan smiles with pride as he stands atop the main platform, gazing down at the arena below where the announcer proclaims the four contestants who have advanced to the semifinals.
"Truly unexpected, as one prediction has gone astray."
The announcer's voice booms with excitement,
"Here are our semifinalists!"
Tseryo Lavrel, Heirian Geroga, Vichella Arleith, and Zeff Lou Roan—four participants who rose to the top of their respective groups—stand side by side upon the stage. Thunderous applause erupts from the audience, celebrating their achievement.
One of the instructors remarks, "A balanced result. Two contestants from Karsh and two from Argoust. A shame none from Carrion managed to advance this year."
Tseryo and Vichel, clad in white-and-tosca uniforms, represent Karsh. Zeff and Heirian, in black-and-tosca, stand as the representatives of Argoust.
The announcer raises his voice once more,
"Now for the moment we've all been waiting for—Grand Master Lutzer Swan will draw numbers at random to decide the matchups for our semifinalists!"
A medium-sized black box is brought before the Grand Master. On the top of the box is an opening just large enough for a hand to reach through. The Grand Master reaches inside, feeling around for a moment, before drawing out a white sphere.
A smile, touched with a hint of surprise, spreads across the Grand Master's face as he sees the number marked on the white sphere—number 4.
The four semifinalists, the audience, and the teachers all watch intently as the Grand Master proceeds to draw four white spheres at random from the black box, then carefully arranges them side by side along the edge of the platform railing.
With the wise smile of an old man, the Grand Master gazes at the four white spheres now lined up before him. With a small motion of his hand, he makes them rotate, turning the numbers inscribed upon them toward the eagerly waiting audience.
4, 1, 3, 2
Tseryo's eyes widen in shock at the unexpected result.
The announcer's voice booms once more:
"At last, we have the matchups for our semifinalists! In the first battle, Zeff Lou Roan will face Tseryo Lavrel!"
Amid the roar of the cheering crowd, Tseryo lets a faint smile slip across his face, surprised that he'll be meeting the opponent he has awaited this soon.
"And in the second match, Vichella Arleith will face Heirian Geroga!"
Heirian, standing to Vichel's left, suddenly bursts into loud laughter. Vichel glances at him in puzzlement as he leans slightly closer.
"See you in the arena, sweet girl."
Tseryo, at Vichel's right, immediately snaps back in a sharp tone, showing his disapproval of Heirian's behavior.
"Watch your tongue when speaking to a lady!"
Heirian feigns fear with exaggerated gestures.
"Ohoo, relax, friend. Am I disturbing your girlfriend?"
With a short mocking laugh, Heirian strides down from the stage first. Vichel follows soon after. Left on stage for a moment, Tseryo fixes his gaze briefly on Zeff, then steps down as well.