The morning sun barely crested the horizon when Yuuya opened his eyes. His body was still sore from the duel the night before, but it wasn't the kind of pain that made him hesitate. No—this pain was a reminder that he was alive, growing stronger.
Stretching out the stiffness from his limbs, Yuuya dressed and headed straight for the training grounds. The cold morning air stung against his skin, but he welcomed it. He was about to begin his routine when a familiar voice echoed across the field.
"Starting without me?"
Yuuya turned to see Chris, his red hair tied back messily, his sharp eyes glinting with challenge.
Yuuya sighed. "You again?"
Chris smirked. "What? Scared I'll beat you today?"
Yuuya rolled his shoulders. "You can try."
Despite his annoyance, Yuuya welcomed the sparring. There was something honest about crossing blades—no words, no politics, just strength and skill. They fought fiercely, wooden swords clashing, the sound echoing across the courtyard.
Chris's strikes were sharper than before, faster. But Yuuya was still a step ahead, countering with ease, pushing Chris back again and again.
After an intense hour, they finally lowered their weapons, both panting heavily.
"You're still annoying to fight," Chris huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"And you're still slow," Yuuya replied with a teasing smirk.
But before their banter could continue, a deep voice interrupted.
"Impressive."
Both boys turned sharply.
Cain von Paldia stood at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, his sharp eyes gleaming with interest. His tall figure cast a long shadow, a presence that demanded attention.
"I watched the entire match," Cain said, stepping forward. "You have talent, Yuuya. Real talent."
Yuuya remained silent, uncertain where this was going.
Cain's lips curved into a grin. "You don't belong in the shadow of a butler's uniform. With your skill, you should be wielding a real sword—on the battlefield. A knight's place."
Chris looked at his father, surprised.
Cain turned his gaze back to Yuuya. "Come with me to Paldia. Train under me. I'll turn you into a knight that men will follow, and kings will fear."
The offer hung in the air like a heavy cloud.
Yuuya tilted his head slightly. "And why would I do that?"
Cain chuckled. "Because strength like yours is wasted serving tea."
For a brief moment, Yuuya felt a shadow of temptation. The idea of a clear, strong path—where strength brought recognition and clarity—was almost alluring. Almost. But it passed.
He didn't want recognition.
He wanted the truth.
Yuuya considered it for a moment before asking, "Does your library hold any records? About villages that might have vanished or… unusual magic?"
Cain's brow lifted in amusement. "Our library is full of books on warfare, strategy, and the art of the blade. But for ancient magic? No. Araulia's libraries are far greater in that regard."
Yuuya's answer was immediate. "Then no."
Cain blinked. "No?"
"I don't care about glory," Yuuya said simply. "I care about finding answers."
Cain chuckled deeply. "You're an odd one. Most boys your age would dream of power."
Yuuya's gaze didn't falter. "Power means nothing without purpose."
For a moment, Cain just stared, then let out a booming laugh. "I like you even more now!"
Chris shook his head with a faint smile. "Told you. He's stubborn."
Cain smirked. "So be it. But if you change your mind, my offer stands."
And with that, the Knight King turned and walked away, leaving the morning air thick with thought.
Later that afternoon, Yuuya carefully poured tea for Flora and Chris. The soft clinking of porcelain echoed beneath the shade of the grand garden tree.
"Here," Yuuya said, placing the cups in front of them.
Flora smiled, admiring the calmness with which he handled everything. "You're good at this."
Yuuya shrugged. "I've been forced to practice."
Chris took a slow sip and grinned. "Not bad, 'Commoner Hero.' You're famous now."
Yuuya sighed. "I'd prefer if you forgot that title."
Flora giggled, though she gave Chris a scolding look. "You're being too harsh."
Chris shrugged. "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
Flora turned to Yuuya, her gaze thoughtful. "Do you… miss your hometown?"
The question caught Yuuya off guard.
Yuuya hesitated, his hands pausing over the teapot. "Why ask that?"
Flora smiled softly. "No reason. I was just curious. You never really talk about it."
The silence stretched. Yuuya set the teapot down.
"I do miss it," Yuuya admitted, his voice low. "I miss the mornings. The familiar roads. The people. It was… peaceful."
Chris leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "You want to go back someday?"
Yuuya nodded. "If I can find it."
Flora hesitated, then asked gently, "Will you ever go back… if you find it?"
"If I can," Yuuya said. His voice was low, distant.
Flora's fingers curled around her teacup. "I hope you do." Her voice trembled slightly. "But… I'll be sad if you leave."
Chris chuckled lightly, his tone just a bit too bright—as if chasing off the heaviness lingering in the air. "Well… you're stubborn, Yuuya. But I didn't expect you to reject my father's offer. He's one of the five strongest swordsmen on the continent, you know."
Yuuya's expression didn't change. "I'm not interested in glory. Right now, knowledge is what matters."
Chris opened his mouth, then hesitated. The answer wasn't what he'd expected. He stared at Yuuya, studying him—not as a rival, but as someone unfamiliar. Someone he didn't quite understand.
"...Strange," Chris muttered, though his voice held a note of admiration. "You're a strange one."
"But that's why you're interesting," Flora added softly.
For a moment, Chris looked at Yuuya, his gaze shadowed with something uncertain—maybe doubt, maybe curiosity. Then he chuckled again, masking the feeling.
"Yeah, interesting," he said, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
And for a brief moment, warmth settled between them, though Chris felt a strange distance, as if Yuuya was already somewhere far away.
The next morning, Lena found Yuuya near the library.
"Yuuya-sama," she said gently, "His Majesty wishes to speak with you."
Yuuya's brow furrowed, but he nodded.
Alfred sat in his study when Yuuya arrived. The king's face was thoughtful, serious.
"Sit," Alfred said.
Yuuya obeyed, silently waiting.
"It's about Flora."
A pause.
"She's reached the age where it's time for her to begin formal education," Alfred explained. "She will attend Arcadia Academy next season."
"But she refuses to go… unless you're with her." Alfred sighed. "She's terrified of being alone."
Yuuya frowned. "I don't belong in a place like that."
Alfred hesitated. "But the academy's library is vast. Ancient. You might find answers there."
Yuuya paused, his thoughts dark and heavy. (If there are records… maybe I'll find something.)
"...Fine," Yuuya muttered. "I'll go."
Relief softened Alfred's features. But after a moment, his gaze became curious.
"I've always wondered," Alfred said carefully. "You've been searching for something, haven't you?"
Yuuya's hand twitched slightly, but his face remained calm. "...Something like that."
Alfred watched him carefully, as if weighing whether to push further. But in the end, he simply nodded. "If you ever need help… you only have to ask."
"...Thank you."
Far from the royal castle, in a secluded office lit only by candlelight, Dia von Neredras sat hunched over a mountain of ancient texts and books. Her once-perfect hair was messy, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion.
Years of research. Years of failure.
And now… desperation.
She stood, brushing her hair back, forcing herself to look composed. She had no choice.
Dia stepped through a portal of light, emerging in a realm where reality seemed to blur—a grand, infinite library stretching into the darkness. The air hummed with ancient power, and the scent of old parchment lingered like a forgotten memory.
At the centre sat a lone figure—a boy, no older than ten, with pale silver hair and eyes too ancient for his youthful face.
Dia approached slowly.
Her heart pounded as she stepped closer, each stride heavier than the last. She hated this. Hated needing help. Especially from him. But if it meant finding answers for Yuuya...
"I need your help," she said, her voice soft but firm.
The boy didn't look up at first. When he did, his silver eyes were cool and distant, his lips curving into a faint, almost mocking smile.
"You always come when you're desperate, Dia," he said, his tone edged with sharp amusement.
"Should I be honoured?"
Dia held his gaze, her fingers tightening at her sides. 'If you give me what I seek, perhaps.'
And the shadows of secrets settled between them.