"Why are you up so early… Snow White?" G6 asked, face a mask of indifference as Prince Dio fell into step beside her.
"I had a feeling you would be sneaking out again." His voice was calm, matching her pace.
G6 observed him from the corner of her eye, expression unreadable.
"And need I remind you," he added, his tone dropping to a near whisper, "that sword comes at a price. Our agreement stands."
"Whatever." She quickened her stride. Prince Dio easily kept pace. They walked in a silence so profound it was its own conversation.
This walking bag of premium cement is annoying. What's his game?
She is remarkably at ease, walking alone with a man at this hour. No pretense. Just… silence.
Neither spoke until the shimmering barrier of the Royal Collegium passed over them.
The Bastion's grand entrance groaned as Prince Dio pushed the heavy door open, sound echoing through the cavernous, empty hall.
"Does no one pull an all-nighter here?" G6's voice cut the silence. "This place is always a tomb."
"On rare occasions," Prince Dio acknowledged, leading inside. "This is primarily a training ground. The real work happens elsewhere—in the Sanctum labs and the Omnia archives."
"Ah. Company slaves," G6 muttered under her breath as they turned down a hallway.
Reaching the training arena, G6 shrugged off her black outer coat, shivering slightly. Fuck, it's cold.
The motion gave Prince Dio an unobstructed view. His gaze, usually so controlled, swept over her with open curiosity.
A form-fitting, long-sleeved top with a high collar. Pants of sturdy, flexible material dotted with pockets. Boots laced with military precision. A sleek harness-style belt accentuated her petite yet powerful frame.
The ensemble was devoid of color or ornament, designed to blend into shadows. The antithesis of noble fashion. Yet, he found it impossible to look away. A severe, lethal elegance that was uniquely and compellingly her.
"Careful. You might strain your eyes." G6 didn't even look at him, already beginning warm-up stretches.
Prince Dio cleared his throat, slightly chastised. "My apologies. I was merely… assessing your gear. It is… unconventional."
"It's functional." Her tone left no room. "That's all that matters."
"I don't care what you do. Just stay out of my way." Blunt. She began precise laps around the arena perimeter.
Prince Dio settled onto the bench, crossing arms and legs, a silent observer.
Her rhythm is familiar. Not a sprint, not a jog. A measured, precise pace for endurance. I know this pattern; the Royal Knights drill this way. I ran these same laps throughout my schooling.
His eyes tracked her. Six laps. Breathing hasn't hitched. Form flawless.
Hmm. That freaky Snow White. G6 mused as she ran. He's just sitting there like a statue. A ghost in this pre-dawn light. If anyone saw him, they'd think he was a mournful white lady haunting the place. Why is he even here? Tch. He's getting on my nerves.
The irritation was a persistent buzz. Ah, let's use that.
<< Eclipse-Step: Silence >>
On her next pass, she fixed him with a sharp, mocking smirk. "You look stupidly arrogant, like you bathed in a sack of flour." Her voice didn't carry an inch beyond the sphere of her skill. She didn't break stride.
That's right. This is quite fun for insulting purposes.
Prince Dio's composed observation shattered into pure confusion. What was that smirk for? He leaned forward. And her footsteps… they've gone completely silent. I can no longer track her by sound.
He watched, even more intently, until she finished her twentieth lap.
I cannot believe she just completed twenty laps at that pace with just heavy breathing. Genuinely impressed.
Okay, I need to wipe my eyes. This sweat is stinging. She walked toward the bench where her coat—and handkerchief—lay beside him.
But G6 had forgotten one critical thing: she hadn't deactivated her skill.
Five steps away, the form automatically shut down, her body's self-preservation triggering a forced shutdown as it reached its limit.
<< Eclipse-Step: Deactivated >>
A wave of debilitating cold and exhaustion washed over her, sapping all strength.
"Fuck." The only word she could gasp before her legs gave way, collapsing face-first toward the hard-packed earth.
"Reise!" A sharp crack in the silent arena. Prince Dio moved before the echo faded, crossing the distance in a heartbeat.
Dropping to one knee, he slid an arm beneath her shoulders, supporting her back, lifting her torso from the ground. Cradling her upper body against his knee.
"Get your hands off me." The command was pathetic, rendered by the violent tremor in her voice and complete inability to move.
"This is not the time for obstinance." His tone left no argument. He shifted his grip, lifting her fully into his arms in a bridal carry.
This is so annoying. I swear, I've never been manhandled like this in my entire life.
He carried her the short distance to the bench, carefully setting her down on the ground, her back leaning against the solid wooden foot of the backless bench.
"Do not push yourself. Just breathe." He reached for her trembling hands.
G6 tried to summon strength to pull away, but her body refused. "Don't… move me," Prince Dio said, voice a firm whisper. The silver signet ring on his finger began to glow with the same soft, cool blue light as Earl's.
G6 glanced at his ring, recognizing it. Huh? I don't recall him wearing it yesterday.
After a moment, the glow faded. "It will only calm the nerve fatigue. The physical exhaustion remains. You must rest." He released her now-steady hands.
"Get lost." Cold, predictable.
Prince Dio didn't react with anger or annoyance. He simply looked at her—a long, quiet stare that was neither cold nor contemptuous, but deeply, unreadably thoughtful. Without a word, he rose and returned to his seat, granting her the space she demanded while keeping his vigil.
「Time Check 06:35 A.M」
Sunlight cast warm, golden light across the training grounds. A heavy silence persisted. Fifteen minutes had passed since G6's collapse, quiet punctuated only by breathing.
Prince Dio's gaze, fixed in the middle distance, drifted to her. He noticed the fine grains of sand dusting her cheek and temple, a gritty testament to her fall. The sight was… bothersome.
Acting on an impulse he didn't fully understand, he reached into his coat's inner pocket and retrieved a pristine, monogrammed handkerchief. He rose from the bench and knelt before her on one knee.
G6 watched him, grey eyes wide with open confusion and wariness. She remained perfectly still, a predator assessing an unpredictable new variable. What is he trying to pull now? Her thoughts screeched to a halt when he reached out.
His touch was unexpectedly gentle. With careful, almost reverent motion, he used the soft linen to wipe the sand from her face. The gesture was so at odds with his usual cold demeanor it left her momentarily stunned.
"What are you doing?" The question left her lips in a whisper, devoid of its usual sharp edge. For a fleeting second, her expression was unguarded, the look in her eyes not that of a lethal Reaper, but of a flustered young woman completely disarmed by unexpected tenderness.
"Oh! Prince Dio is already here!"
Lilia's cheerful voice, ringing from the entrance, shattered the fragile moment like glass.
G6's senses snapped back into focus with the force of a triggered trap. Vulnerability vanished, replaced by instant, scalding embarrassment. She recoiled as if burned, shoving his hand away. "Don't touch me," she hissed, scrambling to her feet with a surge of adrenaline that momentarily overpowered her fatigue.
G6 felt a sudden, sharp burning sensation behind her right ear where her chain-rose tattoo was hidden. Brief, like a needle prick, then gone.
What was that? Her hand twitched, fighting the urge to touch the spot. A reaction to stress? Or something else?
Prince Dio stood as well, composure returning like a mask, though a faint flush tinged his ears. He subtly tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket.
Tina, Edmund, and Lilia approached, expressions a mixture of polite neutrality and poorly concealed curiosity. The scene they had stumbled upon was one of intimate, romantic cliché: a prince on his knee, tenderly caressing a lady's face.
"Good morning, Your Highness. Good morning, Lady Reise." Tina and Edmund greeted in practiced unison, deep bows. Lilia followed, eyes darting between them with barely contained excitement.
"We brought your breakfast, Lady Reise!" Lilia chirped, expertly breaking tension. She hurried forward, gently taking G6's arm, guiding her back to sit on the bench. "You must be hungry after all that running!"
"It's too early to eat," G6 muttered, voice regaining its familiar gravelly tone, though lacking its usual force.
Prince Dio retook his seat on the opposite end of the bench, with Lilia now planted firmly between them like a small, cheerful buffer. Edmund unfolded a portable table; Tina unpacked baskets.
"Then, please drink this first." Tina presented the now-familiar bottle of murky green liquid. "Alistair insists he has improved the taste."
"Ah." A note of unexpected nostalgia in Prince Dio's voice. "I remember that. He gave it to me during my own combat training as a boy."
You're just 20, for god's sake. You speak like you're already retired.
"Indeed, Your Highness." Edmund affirmed, setting a porcelain teapot and cups on the table. "Remarkably effective for muscular fatigue and mana depletion." He poured steaming amber tea with graceful flourish, first for Prince Dio, then G6.
"Please. It should help restore your energy."
G6 downed the tea in one swift, practiced gulp. Ah. The heat is actually refreshing.
"Listen, I'm doing one set of three exercises, then I'll eat." She stood with renewed, if weary, determination.
She returned to the arena center and began to stretch. What she did next made Prince Dio's teacup pause halfway to his lips.
She dropped into a perfect push-up, body forming a rigid, straight line from head to heel, descent and ascent controlled and powerful.
One hundred. How can she perform them with such flawless, military precision? Prince Dio's thoughts raced, his knightly training recognizing a master's form. Without rest, she transitioned seamlessly into rapid bicycle crunches, core muscles flexing with strength that defied her noble upbringing.
"What manner of physical training is this?" Prince Dio asked, voice a mixture of curiosity and disbelief as he finally sipped his now-cooling tea.
"We are not entirely certain, Your Highness." Edmund admitted. "It appears to be a foreign regimen. It is… profoundly difficult for a novice."
"But Lady Reise does it like an expert!" Lilia chirped, full of awe.
Prince Dio fell silent, analytical mind fully engaged in observing this bizarre, efficient routine. She finished crunches and moved to sit-ups.
"Ah, I know that one. I rather despised it during my own knight training," Edmund commented with a wry smile.
"Indeed. But effective for building core strength." Prince Dio's tone indicated he was well-acquainted with the benefits of a defined abdomen.
"Lady Reise is amazing!" Lilia exclaimed again, pure admiration pulling Prince Dio's gaze from G6 to her.
She shows no fear. Not a hint of mistreatment. Her adoration seems genuine… She must be truly fond of this new Reise.
A few minutes later, G6 was done. She sat on the ground, hands on knees, head bowed catching breath. This is getting better. The body's starting to accept the strain. Hardware syncing with software.
Once breathing steadied, she pushed up and walked back. "Lady Reise!" Lilia called happily.
G6 sank onto her spot, grabbing a towel to wipe sweat. "Let's eat."
Tina presented a plate with a sandwich. "Ah, the tea has gone cold," Edmund noted with a slight frown.
"Give it to me." Prince Dio's voice was calm.
Edmund passed the teapot. Prince Dio held his hands a few inches from its surface, palms facing the cool ceramic. A faint, controlled aura of heat shimmered, and within moments, a gentle wisp of steam rose from the spout.
"Oh, look at that. You're a walking furnace." G6's tone laced with characteristic mocking amusement.
Prince Dio ignored the jab, ceasing heat the moment the tea was perfectly reheated. "Thank you, Your Highness." Edmund poured fresh, warm cups.
"Why aren't you guys eating?" G6 asked around a bite. "I doubt the three of you have eaten either." Then it dawned; protocol because of the prince.
Taking matters into her own hands, she reached into the basket, pulled out several sandwiches, and unceremoniously placed one each in front of Lilia, Tina, and Edmund. Then, in a move that shocked the group, she slid the final one directly in front of Prince Dio.
"Hey, Snow White. My personal staff always eats with me." As if the most obvious rule. "If you're going to loiter here, you eat the same way we do." She took another large bite.
Prince Dio was utterly stunned, first by audacity, then by unexpected, casual generosity. He stared at the sandwich—a simple meal offered without ceremony or agenda. A smile, so faint it was nearly imperceptible, touched his lips before schooling his features. He reached out and picked it up. "Let us eat, then. Please, do not stand on ceremony." He took a bite.
Lilia eagerly picked up hers, followed by hesitant but grateful Tina and Edmund.
Prince Dio observed the dynamic. The three servants were mindful of her unpredictability, yet he sensed no hostility or fear, only a weary devotion.
It is… odd. Profoundly undignified… and yet, strangely peaceful. With them, the weight of social class simply… vanishes.
"REISE! WHY ARE YOU SITTING WITH DIO!" A voice, dripping with theatrical whining, cut the peaceful morning.
Keith and Earl had arrived. "Good morning, Lord Keith, Lord Earl." The three servants chorused politely.
"Good morning." Earl responded with a curt nod, eyes scanning the unusual breakfast scene. Keith zeroed in on the prince.
"Hey, Prince! What are you doing here so early?" Keith demanded, striding over. Eyes widened in mock betrayal. "And you're eating! You always refuse to eat in public!"
"Must you be so incessantly loud?" Prince Dio said, not deigning to look. He took a deliberate bite. "How could I possibly refuse a meal offered directly by my fiancée?" Teasing superiority aimed solely at irritating Keith.
Keith circled the bench like a shark, looming over G6. "Get away, or I'll introduce your face to my boots." G6 stated flatly, not glancing up.
"Give me one, too!" Keith pleaded, best pitiful puppy-dog eyes.
"This isn't a cafeteria. Get your own."
While Keith pestered, Edmund gracefully offered his seat to Earl, who accepted with a quiet "Thank you, Edmund," and accepted a freshly poured cup of tea.
"Reisee! Please, just a little—" Keith's plea cut off as G6 shoved the remainder of her sandwich into his open mouth.
"Shut. Up. You're annoying me."
Keith's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Reise!" Mumbled happily around the mouthful.
Prince Dio shot a sharp, warning glare, answered by a triumphant, cheek-stuffing grin. Earl sighed and shook his head.
"Speaking of, Reise." Earl steered back to business. "I was unable to locate a single-jewel mana-restraining artifact. The only suitable piece is an earring, but it requires a twin-piercing setup—two holes in one ear."
"So? What's the issue?"
"I believe I was clear. Two piercings in one ear." As if explaining to a child.
Ah, right. Old Reise only has standard noble piercings, one on each lobe. Not the configuration I need.
"Show it to me." G6 commanded. Earl retrieved a small velvet box, handed it over. Inside, an elegant silver earring designed with two closely set posts.
Hmm. Okay. This body is going to learn pain tolerance today, too.
"Oy, Snow White. Heat the tips of this." G6 tossed the earring to Prince Dio.
Though confused, Prince Dio caught it. A faint blue flame licked from his fingertips, carefully heating the metal points until they glowed faintly red. He handed it back, handle-first.
"Tina. Mirror."
Tina hurriedly retrieved a small, hand-held mirror from the etiquette kit. "Hold it. Keep it steady."
What she did next froze everyone. With the chilling precision of a field medic, she pressed the superheated tips directly through the cartilage of her upper ear, not once, but twice, in rapid succession. The faint sizzle of flesh was audible in stunned silence.
"LADY REISE!" Tina cried, hand flying to her mouth in horror.
"Stop moving." G6 chided, voice utterly calm. "Ah, there. It's attached." She casually plucked a clean handkerchief, dabbing away two tiny beads of blood.
"Lady Reise… does it not hurt?" Lilia whispered, eyes wide.
G6 looked at the young girl, offered a small, grim smile. "This doesn't hurt a bit compared to being stabbed."
Stabbed? The thought echoed simultaneously in Earl, Keith, and Prince Dio's minds, eyes locking in shared, silent alarm.
"Whoa. Now I'm in love with you, Reise. You are really something else." Keith breathed, breaking tension. "When I got mine, I nearly punched Earl in the face."
"That's because you're a whiny little baby."
"That was… rather savage, Reise." A new layer of respect in Prince Dio's tone.
"And here I thought I had already witnessed the full extent of your oddities." Earl recovered. He produced a ring from another pocket, offered it. Sleek, black, etched with subtle, geometric patterns.
"Are you proposing to me?" G6 teased, taking it.
"I shall await your answer with bated breath." Earl played along, a faint smirk.
"I'm still here." Prince Dio interjected, voice dry.
"Oh. I thought you were a particularly statuesque sack of flour." G6 deadpanned.
Keith burst out laughing. "Prince Dio's a pretty boy! He needs delicate handling!"
"Silence, you waterlogged fool."
G6 slid the ring onto her finger. It hummed with the same soothing energy. "This feels different."
"I told you I would find something that suits you. Besides, the design Prince Dio acquired last night is… rather common." A clear, pointed barb implying Prince Dio acquired it with hidden reason.
Ah, so that explains its sudden appearance.
"Shall we begin with your mana control now? I've cleared my schedule." Earl suggested.
"Right. I'll be spending the rest of my morning with you, then."
"What about me?" Keith wailed. "This is why I didn't want you here, Earl! You're stealing my Reise!"
"You are unbearably noisy. Be silent."
"Yeah, his voice is giving me a headache."
"You're both so mean! Reise, you promised you'd spar with me for sword practice!"
"Calm down. I'm not letting my first get away." Playful condescension.
"First?" Earl and Prince Dio repeated in unison, attention fully captured.
"My first pet." G6's grin widened into a wicked slash, mocking them all completely.
The implication hung: if Keith was the first pet, then Earl and Prince Dio were undoubtedly the second and third.
"She's become infinitely more wicked than she ever was before." Keith whispered in awe, both complaint and compliment.
"Shall we begin, Earl?" The name felt foreign, consciously avoiding 'geek'.
"Very well." Earl stood, adjusting glasses with academic focus.
They walked to the arena center. "First, activate the mana restraint. Channel a minuscule amount of energy into your hand and direct it toward the earring."
G6 did as told, focusing a trickle of power. The twin silver posts glowed faint white, an immediate, subtle dampening effect, like a regulator on a powerful engine.
"Good. It will now limit output, acting as a controller. But remember, this is a crutch. You must not become reliant. I expect it back once your control is mastered."
He's right. I can't operate with a permanent handicap. Training wheels.
"Okay, Sir." Mocking deference.
"Let us begin again with a simple Wind Blade. This time, focus. Visualize mana not as a torrent, but as a calm, deliberate river flowing from your core. Control the release."
Fine. I should probably chant it this time. Keep the dogs from getting too suspicious.
G6 gave a curt nod, deliberate breath. "Wind Blade." With a sharp slash of her hand, a blade of compressed air shot forth. It struck remaining targets from yesterday, shredding them completely but with focused, contained force that didn't scratch the wall behind.
"Hmm. Acceptable. The dampener is functioning." A hint of approval. "Now, please attempt the Tornado Wind."
Tornado? What's that?
"Ha?" G6 genuinely confused.
"The Tornado Wind. A foundational defensive spell of your House." As if she'd forgotten her ABCs. "It creates a controlled vortex to deflect projectiles and disorient attackers."
Eh, whatever. A tornado's a tornado, right? How hard can it be?
G6 stared blankly ahead, mind not on some piddling defensive trick, but on the most iconic, violent tornado she could recall from her old world—the raw, destructive force from Twister.
She remained perfectly still, no hand gestures or somatic components. "Tornado Wind." A whisper.
The effect was instantaneous and catastrophic.
Ambient mana in the entire arena—and vast quantities drawn from surrounding gardens—roared to life, violently converging at the center. What formed was not a manageable defensive vortex. It was a massive, roaring column of air that tore sand from the ground, shaking the Bastion's foundations. This was not defense; it was pure, unadulterated atmospheric violence.
"REISE! WHAT IS THAT? THAT IS NOT THE SPELL!" Earl yelled, voice nearly swallowed by the deafening howl.
What is he yelling about? This is exactly what I imagined. A classic F5. Tch.
"By the gods, what is happening?" Prince Dio demanded, rising to his feet.
"It's going to tear the arena apart!" Keith shouted, bracing against the bench.
"Reise, this is a defensive spell, not an apocalyptic event! Contain it!" Earl screamed, fighting to keep glasses on as the gale threatened to lift him off his feet.
Oh. Okay, maybe that was a bit much. But how the hell do I cancel it? 'Back to the sky'? 'Return to the wind'? Shit. This must be a spell that hasn't been invented yet. Earl's going to have a full-blown academic meltdown.
"Make it stop before it reduces the entire Collegium to rubble!" Desperation clear as he ducked behind her for scant protection.
Tch. He's rushing me! This annoying, panicking geek!
Pressed and irritated, a single word of absolute command left her lips, fueled by a skill she unconsciously activated.
<< Aura of Finality: Activated >>
"Settle. Down."
Her voice did not shout. It was a low, cold, imperious tone that cut through chaos not with volume, but with undeniable, absolute authority. The voice of an executioner pronouncing sentence.
And the tornado… obeyed.
It didn't dissipate slowly. It didn't fade. It simply vanished. In the space of a single, silent blink, the cataclysmic vortex was gone. Sand pattered to the ground like rain. Eerie, deafening silence fell.
The sudden stillness was more shocking than the storm. Everyone stood frozen, staring at the woman in the center. Taming a spell of that magnitude usually required a complex counterspell or minutes of focused effort. G6 had done it with two words and a look.
The only sound was the gentle pat-pat-pat of falling sand and Earl's shaky, relieved exhale.
In the profound silence that followed, the only thing louder than the fallen sand was the deafening question hanging in the air: what, exactly, had they just witnessed?
—To Be Continued…—