A young man was walking calmly through the streets of the academy.
He was heading towards the Colosseum at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, as if he had nothing important to do and all the time in the world. No one who saw him strolling along like that would have guessed that he was due to fight a princess in less than five minutes.
The closer he got to the Colosseum, the more people he saw: students who had finished their fights, spectators who had gone to stretch their legs. No one really paid him any attention; he was just one handsome face among many.
And he liked that.
Alice's voice suddenly rang out from inside the arena.
"It looks like Kaen's taken to his heels..."
He stopped for a second, slightly surprised
'Taken to his heels,' he repeated to himself. 'An interesting choice of words.'
Then, in turn, he passed through the tunnel leading into the Colosseum.
He emerged from the tunnel.
He was dazzled by all the light, and the usually chatty crowd was completely silent at that moment, not quite sure how to react.
"You know, princess," he said without even looking at the crowd, "it'll take more than that to impress me."
It took just a second for murmurs to fill the entire Colosseum.
'Is that him?'
'The unworthy prince?'
'Where was he?'
Alice spoke again: "Here before you is the one you have called 'the Butcher', the one who answers to the name of Kaen von Celestain."
More murmurs filled the stadium.
Someone began.
"So, the Butcher was the unworthy prince of the Celestain family?"
The murmurs died down as quickly as they had begun.
Celestain.
It was not just a name; it was a family—a family that inspired respect but also fear. The only son of the late Duke and Duchess, who had died protecting their family. One might have thought this family would lose its prestige, but no—another monster was born into it: Elisabeth von Celestain.
Kaen couldn't care less about what was said about him or his family; why should he waste his time on complete strangers?
He looked at the magnificent woman before him.
Seraphina.
She was bewitchingly beautiful, with violet eyes and hair as white as snow; one felt as though one were looking at a work of art rather than a woman.
She hadn't moved an inch the whole time.
He stopped a few metres away from her.
She looked at him with particular attention, yet quite different from that of the audience—not with contempt, not with fascination, but with something more personal and painful.
As if she were trying to find something, but wasn't quite sure herself what it was
"You're late," she said simply.
"I know," he replied.
A silence fell over the arena.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
It wasn't a polite question; it was a question asked by someone who knew the difference between being all right and pretending to be all right.
'This woman, do I share a past with her?' thought Kaen. 'I mean, she may be a princess, but I'm still a ducal heir; it wouldn't be so surprising if we knew each other from before'
"Yes," replied Kaen simply.
It was neither a lie nor the truth, but something in between.
Seraphina nodded slightly, giving nothing away of her true thoughts.
"It's time to begin," said the princess curtly.
Kaen charged first; it seemed the princess before him wasn't going to make the first move, so he did.
He tested her reaction speed with a simple, though rather swift, strike.
as their swords clashed
"Tell me, Princess, do you fancy a dance?" asked Kaen with a smirk on his face.
Seraphina remained stoic in the face of the situation, observing; she did not reply, but simply parried the attack completely and counter-attacked, which Kaen parried in turn.
They exchanged several blows; no one noticed, but the rhythm of Seraphina's attacks was completely unpredictable.
'How does she do that?' thought Kaen.
Seraphina's strikes became increasingly unpredictable; her attacks were like a river whose course changed every second.
Their exchange continued.
"Tell me, what kind of power do you have?" Kaen began. "The royal family has powers unlike any others, don't they?"
"Kaen, tell me why you talk so much during a fight; you shouldn't. You didn't talk this much when you were fighting that bloke in the restaurant," Seraphina replied simply, stating the facts.
"What do you want me to say? Different situations, different reactions," replied Kaen.
"Stupid," replied Seraphina, then began to attack more savagely.
Kaen parried, but he was constantly on high alert; his spatial awareness alerted him to every blow, allowing him to parry at the very last moment.
Then Seraphina moved closer than necessary—far too close to launch an effective attack—and in that split second, she whispered a single name.
Cain
Kaen parried the next blow a split second too late, pondering the meaning of what she meant by that.
Seraphina saw his hesitation.
He knew from the way she was looking at him that there was something profound attached to that name—perhaps a connection or something else; Kaen had no idea.
The fight continued, but both of them had completely stopped taking the fight seriously, trying to understand one another, but in the end, neither of them succeeded.
Finally, she ended the fight by pointing her sword at his heart.
Then she declared.
"You are accepted; there is no reason to go any further," she declared with a sigh.
***
In the stands, Solvane breathed a sigh of relief.
Whilst Azriel noted that Kaen's reflexes were incredible, she wondered what had happened in the middle of the fight.
'Interesting,' thought Azriel
***
Kaen left as quickly as he had entered—that is to say, quietly.
It seemed much emptier than when he'd arrived; almost all the people he'd seen had already left.
He walked alone.
And thought back on what she'd said.
Cain.
'Cain, a figure from the Bible, known as the first sinner of humanity, at least that was true on Earth. So why did she mention that name to me? Is it a sign that she, too, is a reincarnator, or perhaps there is something deeper to it?'
Kaen sighed, then continued to think.
'If she really is a reincarnator, then… whether she is a princess or not, I would have no choice but to kill her.'