Chapter 12 · The Training Grounds (2)

“Princess, even for a princess, your words are harsh. I am the eldest son of a count’s house! Please show some respect.”

Ark huffed. It must be the first time he’d ever heard such words from someone else.

“Whoevow you fight, wespecting your opponent is a knight’s honow. Awk did not keep his honow.”

When I spoke firmly, enunciating as clearly as I could, both Ark and Rizen’s eyes went wide in surprise. I spread my legs, crossed my arms, and let loose at Ark without hesitation.

“The name of the First Woyal Knight Owdew means ‘honow’—Dinitas. But Awk is no diffewent fwom a viwwage thug! Why don’t you just go thwough the stweets, scawe commonews, and shake them down fow money? That suits Awk’s talents much bettew!”

“P-Princess, how do you know that meaning…”

Ark’s face went pale. Unable to find a retort, he rolled his eyes this way and that, then spun around and tried to flee.

I had no intention of letting him go. I pressed both hands against the tree in front of me and cast the intermediate spell I had taught myself over the past few days.

“Trĕmor!”

At that, the tree heaved violently and a torrent of pinecones came pouring down on his head.

“Aaaah!”

Pelted by the prickly pinecones, he scrambled away in a panic.

“Hmph! Cowawd! Dinitas weally ought to dwive out bwatts wike him!”

Rizen, forgetting his own pain, gaped at me and asked,

“Princess, are you really four?”

That stung.

“O-of couwse. Asha is four! Ah! Soon I’ll be five.”

“You really don’t seem it. My little sister is four too, and she could never talk like the princess.”

“Ah, Asha is just a fast leawner! But Wizen, we need to get that wound tweated wight away!”

I hurriedly glossed over it and tugged at him, just as Paeon was approaching.

“Papa!”

Rizen’s face flushed red again and he hastily tried to hide his injury. But it was not enough to conceal the long gash below his knee.

“…How did you get hurt?”

“I-I made a mistake. I’ll wait for it to heal.”

“Explain, Rizen.”

Paeon spoke sternly, but Rizen clamped his mouth shut and hemmed and hawed. There were even faint tears welling in his eyes.

“There was a bit of a quarrel with an apprentice knight of Dinitas. I… I wanted to protect the honor of Veritas…”

Paeon gazed down at him quietly for a moment, then reached out and placed his hand on Rizen’s head. A warm white light enveloped him, and the wound on his leg vanished in an instant.

“…Next time, you must win.”

He stroked Rizen’s head gently. Rizen’s face could not have turned any redder.

‘What is this, why is he so tender?!’

A sudden surge of irritation flared up in me.

‘This… this is absolutely not jealousy. I’m just annoyed because he’s so cold to his own flesh and blood while being so kind to a complete stranger’s child!’

“Do it fow Asha too!”

“Do what?”

“Pat Asha’s head too!”

He stared at me quietly for a moment, then said bluntly,

“The only person in Santra permitted to stroke the princess’s head would be His Majesty the King.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and went off to instruct the other knights.

“Ugh…!”

I held back the tears of frustration welling up in me.

◇ ◆ ◇

That afternoon, at the estate of Count Ellenoa.

The red-haired young noble, Ark, was pacing in circles around his room.

‘That little brat used magic… magic I don’t even know.’

Ark clenched his fists and trembled. The bump on his head throbbed.

‘I, the heir to the Ellenoa line, turned tail and ran from a four-year-old girl!’

He pictured the tiny girl who had glared at him with such a stern face, and felt a strange emotion—he couldn’t tell if it was shame or wounded pride.

‘What was that overwhelming presence… Is that what royalty is?’

Just then, a small knock came at the door.

“Young master, the master is calling for you.”

He trudged out of his room and headed to the second-floor study where his father was. Lord Bertrand Ellenoa did not look up from his documents even as his son entered, and only raised his head a long while later. Ark’s father, a count ranked third among the nobility, also served as vice-commander of the Dinitas Knight Order.

The Ellenoa family was a lineage of knights for generations, having produced so many outstanding knights that their names were recorded in Santra’s history books. Lord Ellenoa also took pride in his house and had raised his son ruthlessly from a young age so that he might carry on the family’s honor.

“You called for me, Father.”

“You’ve come, Ark. You applied yourself diligently to training today as well, I trust?”

“…Yes, of course.”

Ark swallowed hard. He thought it a great mercy that the bump on his head was hidden by his hair.

“How diligently you’ve worked, we shall confirm a month from now at the Ars Confelo.”

The Ars Confelo was the day when the Holy Knight Order and the First Royal Knight Order tested their skills against each other once a year—a contest in which the two fiercely rival orders competed with as much ferocity as if in actual war.

Victory was determined by each order’s win rate, and the apprentice knight who placed first would earn the honor of being knighted immediately, without needing to take the promotion exam.

“If… you lose to a commoner…”

The count said, fixing his son with a chilling gaze.

“You had best not plan on coming home in one piece.”

Ark trembled inwardly. It wasn’t that he lacked confidence. He was the strongest among the Dinitas apprentice knights. Most could manifest aura, but he alone could wield it perfectly.

However, on the Veritas side, there were a few highly skilled apprentice knights capable of defending against his attacks, so he needed to shore up his weaknesses as soon as possible.

Ark cautiously opened his mouth.

“Um… Father. Could I perhaps… try learning other kinds of magic as well?”

Lord Ellenoa’s eyebrow twitched.

“What magic is it you want to learn?”

“For example, vibration magic, or something like that…”

If he could learn the spell the princess had cast earlier, he could cause the ground to tremble and launch a surprise attack while the opponent staggered or fell. Then surely…

“That sort of thing is a cheap trick fit only for feeble royal mage underlings! Where did you pick up such nonsense?”

When the count slammed the desk and flew into a rage, Ark flinched and stammered out an excuse.

“I happened to see it… and I thought it might be quite useful…”

“Do you think you could cast a spell while mounted on a horse, shield in hand and sword in grip?! To do that, you’d have to throw away your sword! For a knight on the battlefield to throw away his sword means death!”

The count was furious. His face held even a trace of deep contempt.

“You can’t even imitate the Flamma Gladius yet. And you have the leisure to let your mind wander elsewhere?! Your father mastered that technique at eleven!”

Flamma Gladius. It was the ultimate magic-sword technique that had earned the Ellenoa family the title of Knights of Flame for generations. It was aura evolved into elemental magic, possessing the terrifying power to engulf not only the enemy before you but over a hundred enemy soldiers around you in flame.

“…I was briefly led astray by foolish thoughts. I will devote myself to honing my swordsmanship.”

Ark answered in a hardened voice, head bowed. But even as he left the room, the image of the princess scolding him and casting magic with such commanding presence would not leave his mind.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Princess, your stance is wrong. The ox (the basic swordsmanship stance) isn’t done like that.”

“Mmm… But Asha’s awm won’t go up any highaw than hewe.”

“Hahaha, Rizen! You’re really starting to look like an instructor!”

Senior knights on their way to the water fountain teased Rizen, who was teaching me.

These days, showing up at the training grounds every day had become my routine, and in the process I had gotten acquainted with knights other than Rizen. Now they were a little more familiar with me and spoke to me with smiles.

“Seeing the princess is my only source of healing these days.”

“Every time we run around the training grounds for warm-ups, the way the princess hops along after us is so adorable…”

“Though the commander looks a bit tired.”

Paeon had to rush over and use divine power every time I stumbled or fell while running, so his nerves were stretched to the limit.

“Just how long do you intend to leave the princess here? If His Majesty finds out, you’ll be in for it!”

“I’m truly, truly sorry, Sir Parsiel. Once spring comes, we should all be able to breathe a little easier. Please just bear with it until then.”

“And the princess loves coming here so much… She even talks about it in her sleep.”

In truth, the three priestesses had tried to find someone else to look after me, but I had firmly refused. As a result, Paeon ended up in charge of me from morning till evening. Still, I spent most of my time with Rizen. His hostility toward me had melted away like snow. He had even begun enthusiastically teaching me the sword.

‘I suppose he’s fallen head over heels for my charm.’

Well, there’s no harm in learning the sword. If I study magic and learn swordsmanship in the meantime before I turn twelve, couldn’t I become capable of beating even a decent adult magic-swordsman? While I was grinning and lost in such fantasies, Rizen came trudging over, thoroughly beaten by Vice-Commander Shellman again, looking utterly deflated.

“Haa…”

He let out a deep sigh and slid down to sit with his back against a large tree.

“Wizen, is the twaining not going well?”

When I asked cautiously, he buried his face in his knees and answered in a sunken voice.

“I just… I just can’t use divine power. I can’t feel prana at all.”

If magic is the use of mana to twist the laws of nature, divine power is the force that draws on prana—the life force of nature granted by God.

Unlike mana, which is mostly passed down from parent to child, divine power manifests one hundred percent naturally. So the fact that Paeon had brought Rizen here meant he had seen him use divine power, and yet…

“Wizen, how did Papa end up bwinging you hewe?”

“…When our village was attacked by monsters and reduced to rubble, he appeared like a miracle at the head of his knight order. My father had passed away, and I was in a position where I alone had to protect my mother and little sister, and he saved me.”

Rizen’s expression turned dreamy as he recalled the past.

“He is my… one and only hero. But now I won’t even be able to compete in the upcoming Confelo. It’s no different from throwing an egg in his face.”

I felt sorry for him. I didn’t know everything about the principles of divine power, but I had learned that it wasn’t much different from mana—only the source of the power differed. Both mana and divine power are greatly influenced by the mind. Under severe pressure and stress, the power does not manifest well.

I, too, had learned magic in my first life, been falsely accused and branded a heretic, and in my second life I developed a fear of using mana. So even though I wasn’t suppressing my own power, I couldn’t use mana well. Rizen was feeling the same frustration and helplessness I had felt then.

“Wizen, stawt with something weally, weally small. Heew, stawt by making this gwass fwesh again. Okay?”

When I tapped the withered, winter-dry grass, he smiled faintly. See, you’re pretty when you smile!

While Rizen squeezed his eyes shut and strained to channel divine power into the grass, I cheered him on with, “It wooks a wittle awive now!”, “It’s gwettew than befowe!” Sigh, I hope this actually helps.

Then I sensed a presence from behind the large tree.

Huh? That red hair is…

The moment I noticed, he dashed away.

“What on earth is that guy doing, spying on us? How creepy.”

Rizen snapped, momentarily losing his focus. In that instant, information about Ark Ellenoa suddenly surfaced in my mind. It was a conversation I had overheard from maids when I was about seven.

“Did you hear? The eldest son of Count Ellenoa… died!”

“Oh my, Princess Stella’s betrothed? He’s still so young. Did he fall in battle during this monster subjugation?”

“Yes, he fell from a cliff and into a valley, they say. How devastated Lord Ellenoa must be…”

“Still, there’s a second son… so there’s no problem with the succession, thank goodness.”

It was information that hadn’t mattered much to me, so I had let it pass.

Ark dies three years from now, in the year he turns fifteen.