Misendere Lycrane, the SSS-Rank Swordsaint, was not someone who ever revealed much of herself to anyone.
Her calm demeanour and collected composure always remained the same, regardless of the circumstances.
Reserved, self-centred, and indifferent, she acted as though the world around her moved at a slower pace than she did, as if she had long transcended such trivial concerns.
Diana Harley, however, was the opposite of that image in every conceivable way.
Unlike Lycrane's quiet self-possession, Diana was eccentric in both nature and manner, a young woman who seemed to live for loud gestures, fierce exchanges, and challenges flung at her peers like gauntlets.
Where Lycrane was cold, Diana was hot-blooded. Where Lycrane was composed, Diana was reckless.
Altogether, if one were to simply glance at her, with her flowing silver hair and sharp red eyes, they would mistakenly assume she was the archetype of an aloof and quiet prodigy.
They couldn't be more wrong. The reality was far different.
She was a tomboyish beauty with an unusual fondness for violence.
'Quite the contrary personality to Lycrane,' I thought as I looked at her, and the difference between the two women settled itself naturally in my mind.
The instructor's voice broke my thoughts.
I raised my hand slightly and spoke, my tone polite and soft.
"Instructor, if it is not asking for too much, I would prefer not to participate in this bout today. My body is still somewhat sore and fatigued from yesterday's regimen, and I believe forcing myself into a duel may not produce anything beneficial for either side."
His gaze snapped to me immediately, sharp and hard.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Step forward and prepare yourself." His voice thundered, and his glare left no room for refusal.
'Well, that didn't work…'
I sighed inwardly, straightening my back and walking toward the centre.
Diana's mouth curved into a crooked smile, one that revealed sharp teeth beneath her otherwise pretty face.
She tilted her head with a mocking amusement and said, "Let's see what makes you so special. I have been wondering about you for a long time."
'D-damn…'
I cursed quietly under my breath as the weapons were brought out.
The instructor barked orders, detailing the rules of the spar—how victory would be decided, what we could and could not do—and while I listened carefully, I already knew I was in for a beating.
Reluctantly, I took up the sword and tested its weight, my hand tightening around the grip, my arm steady despite the dull ache in my muscles.
The field grew quiet as we squared off.
When the instructor gave the signal, Diana moved first.
She lunged forward with reckless speed, her laughter echoing across the training ground.
I stepped aside, my body shifting on instinct, and her blade cut air where my shoulder had been.
Her follow-up strike was fast, but I parried it and stepped back.
She pressed forward again, and again I dodged, trying to hold onto dear life.
Her attacks did not stop. They rained down with relentless force, and though I managed to block and counter some of them, my sore muscles screamed in protest with every movement.
Gritting my teeth, I endured the strain, forcing myself to keep pace.
'I should end this quickly, or at the very least find a convincing way to lose. The more this drags on, the more my strength will betray me. And I might just collapse…'
I stepped back, considering how to make it seem natural, when suddenly her blade struck my side.
Pain jolted through me, sharp and unpleasant, and I grunted softly, though I did not let it show on my face.
Instead, I forced a shaky smile, raising my sword again as if unaffected.
Right then, her red eyes suddenly narrowed at me, unreadable, then with a sudden twist of her wrist, she knocked my sword cleanly out of my grip.
The blade flew and landed a few steps away.
I glanced at it and looked at the instructor, thinking it was over.
The instructor's voice declared, "The match is over."
A 'me' who naively thought that now I was saved from dying at the hands of a fellow member of the same house, smiled and let out a relieved sigh.
But soon after, that smile on my face disappeared, replaced with confusion and shock.
"..."
Because Diana, at that very moment, for some inexplicable reason, was pointing her sword tip at my neck.
My voice hitched and a cold sweat ran down my forehead.
'What happened? What did I do?' My thoughts raced, feeling both confusion and helplessness assault my headspace.
Her gaze remained fixed on me, sharp and piercing, and after a moment she spoke, her voice tinged with disappointment.
"I expected something different from you. I thought you would show me more."
'Ah… okay, that's it…' I sighed inwardly.
Smiling faintly, sadly, and self-deprecatingly, I said in a quiet, unhappy tone,
"I apologise that my swordsmanship could not meet your expectations. Perhaps on another day, I will be able to demonstrate something better."
To my reply, she shook her head sharply.
"Eh…?"
"No, not that. I was not speaking of your swordsmanship. I meant your will. You have no desire to fight. Right from the start, you were trying to find a way to lose. You are not interested in winning, are you? What is with that?"
Her voice carried across the training ground.
My eyes widened, feeling awed by her evaluation of me, despite her hot-headed personality.
Diana's eyes narrowed further as she said, leaning down a little,
"What did the Swordsaint see in you?"
The question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.
I found myself unable to reply.
'If I could answer her, what would I say? That I am being used for my affinity with spectrum sorcery? Yeah, that's not possible.'
My thoughts churned.
'And what's that about my will to fight? Uh, I have plenty of it, thank you. I am just a bit tired from last night. That is the truth. But…'
I narrowed my eyes.
'...Perhaps that is just another excuse. Perhaps I am only telling myself what I want to hear.'
The thought unsettled me.
'Am I lying to myself?'
The more I thought, the less certain I became.
Before I could come to any conclusion, Diana sighed and looked away, disappointment evident in her eyes as she retrieved her sword from my neck and started walking away.
Feeling the suffocating pressure gone, I exhaled.
I licked my lips and threw away all the inner turmoil I'd been having in the back of my head and started walking back to the group.
But right at that moment, as I was walking, several men entered the training field.
Their sudden appearance made everyone draw a sharp breath as they started whispering with each other.
Judging from their attire, which was a blend of dark uniforms and polished insignias that marked them as part of the House of Sword's internal security division, this reaction was obvious.
I frowned.
'Did something happen?'
They moved directly toward the instructor, speaking quickly in low voices.
'What might they be talking about?' I thought, resuming my walk.
However, to my surprise, the instructor's eyes suddenly turned toward me, and so did the officials'.
"...?"
I glanced left and right, trying to confirm if it was truly me they were looking at.
One of the men stepped forward, his presence heavy and domineering, and stopped in front of me.
My body stiffened as I felt an oppressive pressure crashing over me.
The man spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact manner.
But the contents of his words rattled my unprepared brain, making my head go numb.
"Obyron, we'd like to speak with you. The body of your roommate, Julius Augustus, was discovered this morning near the Garcia River. It was in an inhumanely mangled and butchered state. We have a few questions we want to ask you."