The royal palace of Dresden stood quiet beneath the deep midnight sky.
Moonlight poured over the marble balconies and silver rooftops, turning the entire palace into a silent monument of pale light. Most of the guests had long since retired to their chambers after the banquet and exhibition.
But inside a secluded chamber of the palace, the night was far from quiet. Several figures stood before the tall windows, their shadows stretching across the polished floor.
At the center of the room stood the Queen of Dresden, her elegant silhouette framed by the moonlight. One of the knights in front of her hesitated before speaking.
"Your Majesty… are you certain about this?" His voice carried a trace of unease.
The queen slowly turned her gaze toward him. "Are you questioning me?"
The room instantly fell silent. The knight stiffened and lowered his head.
"No, Your Majesty. I will follow your order."
"Good."
The queen's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. "Tomorrow's banquet will be… quite entertaining."
Behind the knight stood a tall young man clad in the armor of the Fourth Knight Order. His hand rested confidently on the hilt of a massive greatsword.
Roland Falkner. A rising star of the royal knights.
The queen's eyes lingered on him for a brief moment.
"Remember," she said calmly, "this is merely a friendly spar."
Roland bowed slightly. "Understood, Your Majesty."
A faint glimmer of anticipation flashed in his eyes. After all, the opponent was merely a student from Kizen.
The queen walked slowly toward the balcony, her gaze lifting toward the vast night sky above Dresden.
For a moment, she said nothing. Then a quiet chuckle escaped her lips.
"Heh…" Her voice was soft, yet filled with unmistakable malice.
"Let's see how confident you can still be tomorrow… Kizen."
The moonlight shimmered in her eyes as the cold night wind swept across the balcony.
And somewhere within the palace guest residence—
The one she planned to provoke slept peacefully. Unaware that the stage for tomorrow's spectacle had already been set.
The second day in Dresden began under a clear winter sky.
Inside the grand banquet hall of the royal palace, long tables had already been prepared. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above the guests, casting warm light across polished marble floors and rows of noble banners.
Delegations from various academies and noble houses filled the hall with quiet conversation.
At the center of it all sat the delegation from Kizen.
Princess Molly stood near them, greeting the guests with her usual bright smile, though her posture remained elegant and composed—befitting the princess of Dresden.
"Good morning, everyone," she said warmly. "I hope you rested well after yesterday's exhibition."
Across the table, Knox rested his chin on one hand, lazily scanning the hall.
"Quite well," he replied casually.
Beside him, Jane quietly sipped her tea, her calm gaze observing the movements around the room.
Several nobles were clearly whispering among themselves. Every now and then, their eyes would drift toward Knox.
After all, the performance from yesterday evening was still fresh in everyone's memory. But among the curious stares, there was another presence approaching their table.
Heavy footsteps echoed softly across the marble floor.
A tall young knight clad in the armor of the Fourth Knight Order stopped before them. A massive greatsword rested on his back, its size alone enough to draw attention from nearby guests.
Princess Molly blinked in surprise. "Roland Falkner?"
The knight bowed politely. "Your Highness."
Then his gaze shifted toward Knox.
"Are you Knox Aznable of Kizen?"
Knox tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes meeting the knight's.
"That depends," he said with a faint smile. "Who's asking?"
The knight placed a hand on the hilt of his greatsword.
"Roland Falkner, Fourth Knight Order."
A brief pause followed.
"I have heard much about your ability… and your performance yesterday."
His tone remained respectful, but there was something else beneath it.
"Therefore," Roland continued, "I would like to request a friendly spar."
The surrounding conversations in the banquet hall gradually faded.
Several nobles turned their heads. A few knights exchanged glances.
Knox didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back slightly in his chair.
Beside him, Jane quietly placed her teacup down. Her expression remained calm, but her voice carried a faint chill.
"…How interesting."
She looked directly at Roland. "A spar. In the middle of a diplomatic banquet."
Roland did not flinch. "Merely a demonstration between warriors."
Jane's eyes narrowed slightly. For a moment, silence lingered between them.
Then Knox chuckled softly. "Heh."
He turned his gaze toward Jane. "What do you think?"
Jane replied without hesitation. "He's looking for trouble."
Her answer was blunt enough that a few nearby nobles nearly choked on their drinks.
Roland's eyebrow twitched faintly.
But before the situation could escalate—
A calm voice echoed from the upper seat of the hall.
"That is quite an unusual request." All eyes turned toward the royal table.
The King of Dresden leaned slightly forward on his throne-like chair, his expression thoughtful.
"A spar between a royal knight and a guest from Kizen… during the banquet."
His gaze moved toward Knox. "Would that not be somewhat inappropriate?"
Princess Molly quickly nodded. "I agree, Father. Perhaps another time would be—"
"On the contrary." Another voice gently interrupted.
The Queen of Dresden spoke from beside the king, her elegant posture unchanged.
"A friendly exchange between talented young warriors could be quite entertaining."
Her tone was soft. Yet there was an unmistakable pressure beneath it.
"It would also allow our guests to witness the skill of Dresden's knights."
The king frowned slightly. Still hesitant.
But before he could respond—
A quiet chuckle came from the Kizen table. "Haha."
Knox slowly stood up. His crimson eyes curved into a relaxed smile.
"Well," he said lightly, "it would be rude to refuse such a sincere invitation, wouldn't it?"
Jane glanced at him. "…You're accepting?"
Knox shrugged casually. "Why not?"
Then he looked at Roland.
"After all…"
His smile widened slightly.
"…I'm curious too."
The tension in the banquet hall shifted instantly.
The queen's lips curled faintly. The king sighed. And Princess Molly could only look between them with a worried expression.
"Very well," the king finally said. "If both sides agree, then the spar shall be held in the training arena."
His gaze sharpened slightly. "But remember—this is only a friendly exchange."
Roland bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Across from him, Knox stretched his shoulders lazily.
"Friendly," he repeated with a soft laugh.
But the glimmer in his eyes suggested something entirely different.
And somewhere near the royal table—
An older knight with silver hair quietly observed the entire exchange.
Gregor Halstein. The veteran Royal Knight Captain slowly exhaled.
"…This might become troublesome."
The training courtyard of the Dresden Royal Palace lay just beyond the banquet hall, separated by a long corridor of tall glass windows that allowed the pale winter sunlight to spill across the stone floor. By the time the small procession arrived, several knights had already gathered along the edges of the courtyard, forming a loose circle around the sparring ground.
The courtyard itself was simple yet elegant—wide stone tiles laid in a circular formation, surrounded by marble pillars and trimmed hedges dusted lightly with frost. Above them, the sky stretched clear and cold, the faint breath of winter wind brushing against banners bearing the crest of the Dresden royal family.
Nobles and attendants quietly filled the surrounding balcony and gallery that overlooked the courtyard. Word had spread faster than anyone expected. What began as a "friendly spar" had quickly become the center of attention.
At the far side of the courtyard stood the royal seats. The King of Dresden sat in the center, his expression calm yet observant, while the Queen sat beside him with an air of quiet composure. Princess Molly stood slightly behind them, her hands clasped together as she looked toward the arena with a hint of concern she could not fully hide.
Nearby, leaning lightly against one of the marble pillars, stood Gregor Halstein. The veteran knight's silver hair moved slightly with the wind as his sharp eyes followed the two figures stepping into the arena.
One of them, clad in the armor of the Fourth Knight Order, carried a massive greatsword across his back.
Roland Falkner.
The young knight stepped forward confidently, the weight of his armor barely slowing his stride. His reputation as a rising star among the Dresden knights had already earned him admiration from several of the spectators watching from the gallery above.
Across from him, Knox Aznable walked into the center of the courtyard as if he were merely taking a stroll through the palace gardens. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, his hands resting casually at his sides while his crimson eyes wandered briefly across the gathered audience.
The contrast between the two figures was striking.
Roland stood tall and imposing, armored and armed with a weapon nearly as large as himself.
Knox, on the other hand, wore nothing more than his usual academy uniform, looking far more like a visiting student than someone about to face a royal knight in combat.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Roland reached behind his shoulder and slowly drew his greatsword. The heavy blade slid free with a deep metallic sound that echoed faintly through the courtyard.
He planted the weapon beside him before speaking.
"My name is Roland Falkner," he announced, his voice steady enough to carry across the entire courtyard. "Fourth Knight Order of Dresden."
His gaze sharpened slightly as it settled on Knox.
"I've heard quite a bit about you, Knox Aznable of Kizen."
Knox tilted his head a little, the corners of his lips lifting into a faint smile.
"Ah, introductions already?" he replied lightly. "How polite."
He took one step forward, placing himself fully within the center of the courtyard.
"Knox Aznable. A student from Kizen."
For a brief moment, the two simply looked at each other.
Then Roland lowered his stance slightly, the tip of his greatsword angling toward Knox. Before either of them moved, a steady voice suddenly echoed across the courtyard.
"Hold." The voice belonged to Gregor Halstein.
The veteran knight stepped forward from the side of the courtyard with calm authority, the faint creak of his armor barely audible as he walked between the two combatants. His presence alone was enough to quiet the murmurs among the spectators.
As the Royal Knight Captain of Dresden, it was only natural for him to oversee the match.
Halstein stopped between them and glanced from one fighter to the other, his experienced eyes carefully measuring their composure.
"This is a friendly spar," he said evenly. "No lethal intent. The match ends when one side can no longer continue."
His gaze first turned toward Roland. "Roland Falkner."
Roland straightened immediately. "Yes, Captain."
Halstein nodded once before shifting his attention toward Knox.
"And you, young man from Kizen."
For a brief moment, the veteran knight studied Knox's relaxed posture and unreadable smile.
"Are you ready?"
Knox simply shrugged lightly, as though the entire situation were no more serious than a casual morning exercise.
"Anytime~."
A faint chuckle escaped somewhere among the watching nobles. Halstein exhaled quietly before stepping back toward the edge of the arena.
Then he raised one hand.
"Begin."
"Let us begin!"
The moment the words left his mouth, the young knight moved.
His first step was fast—far faster than most of the nobles expected from someone carrying such a large weapon. The greatsword cut through the air with a powerful horizontal swing aimed directly at Knox's midsection.
Gasps rose from the spectators. Yet Knox did not move immediately.
Only at the last possible moment did his body shift slightly to the side, his movement so smooth that the massive blade passed harmlessly through the empty space where he had been standing.
Roland turned instantly, following with another swing, this time from above. The blade came down like a falling pillar of steel.
Once again, Knox stepped aside.
Then another strike came.
And another.
The courtyard slowly filled with the sound of steel cutting through air as Roland continued pressing forward with relentless attacks. Each swing carried considerable force, the weight of the greatsword enough to split stone if it struck directly.
Yet none of them landed.
Knox moved lightly across the courtyard floor, his steps calm and almost leisurely, as though he were dancing around the blade rather than avoiding it.
From the balcony, several nobles began whispering among themselves.
"It looks like he's being pushed back."
"Falkner's attacks are overwhelming him."
"Perhaps the rumors about Kizen are exaggerated after all."
The Queen of Dresden watched the scene with a faint, satisfied smile.
However, not everyone shared the same interpretation.
Standing quietly near the edge of the courtyard, Jane observed the exchange with the same detached expression she had maintained since the duel began.
For a moment she said nothing.
Then, in her usual calm and distant tone, she spoke. "Only a blind person would think Knox is being pressured."
Her voice was not loud, yet the words carried clearly enough for several nearby spectators to hear.
Princess Molly blinked, turning her attention back toward the arena.
Now that she looked again, something felt… strange.
Knox's expression had not changed even once. His movements remained relaxed, almost casual.
Meanwhile—
Roland's breathing had already begun to grow heavier.
Each swing of the greatsword was still powerful, but the frustration slowly creeping into his face was becoming harder to hide.
Because despite attacking relentlessly for nearly a minute—
He still had not touched Knox even once. Roland suddenly stepped back, lowering his weapon slightly as irritation crept into his voice.
"Stop running!"
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
"Are you planning to dodge forever?!"
Knox paused.
For a moment, the courtyard fell silent again as he looked at Roland with a thoughtful expression.
Then a faint chuckle escaped his lips. "Hmm…"
He tilted his head slightly. "Isn't it ironic," he said softly, "that you say that, yet you can't even lay a finger on me?"
The words landed like a needle. Roland's expression twisted.
Before he could respond, he stepped forward again, swinging his greatsword in a wide horizontal arc aimed at Knox's waist.
But this time—
Knox didn't step away. Instead, his body rose lightly into the air.
And before Roland realized what had happened—
Knox's foot landed on the flat of the greatsword's blade. Balanced perfectly Standing there as if the weapon were nothing more than solid ground beneath him.
The courtyard froze in stunned silence.
Roland's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the impossible sight. And Knox, standing calmly atop the blade, simply smiled down at him.
"Maybe this is still a bit too much for you." He said lightly.
Then, he raised one hand casually. A small piece of cloth suddenly appeared in his palm.
Knox continued with a playful tone, "how about I give you another handicap?~"
Before anyone could react—
He wrapped the cloth around his eyes, tying it behind his head as though the duel had suddenly become a game.
""There we go~."
Knox stretched his shoulders slightly, as if preparing for nothing more than a casual exercise.
"How kind I am, right?" he added with a light smile.
"So… try your best~."