“I’ve learned a lot.”

As the storm cleared, the figure of the man became visible.

Despite being defeated by the girl he had treated as his daughter until recently, Glen’s voice was overly calm.

Was it just because it was a spar? Because it was just a game that didn’t aim for life?

“Indeed, you are Kyrie.”

“…Didn’t you remember to call me Lucia?”

No.

It was because the essence of the girl he was facing, to the extent Glen considered his defeat natural, was extraordinary. Lucia picked up the sword that had fallen on the ground and approached Glen.

“Yes. You mentioned that although you have Kyrie’s memories, you would live as the girl named Lucia. Of course, I remember.”

Glen, who got up from the dirt floor, accepted the sword Lucia handed over.

“But isn’t it fine? I was spreading my aura all along, and there was no one around here. Just enjoy the victory for now.”

“…It’s not pleasant to win against an injured person, you know?”

Lucia sighed and kicked an unfortunate stone.

A sudden sparring match.

It began when Glen approached Lucia, who was circling the training ground at dawn, and suggested it.

The appearance of an outsider who knew her identity.

The grudge against him for kidnapping her when she was ignorant of the world.

Lucia, who harbored ill feelings toward Glen for various reasons, was about to refuse the unwelcome sparring request.

-Shiron said, ‘Is there anything you want to do before you die?’

If not for those words she heard just as she was about to turn around, she would have flatly refused.

-Are you going to die, master?

-Who knows. What’s important is what kind of thoughts I had after hearing that.

-…

-I pondered overnight, and one of the things was sparring with you. Please don’t let me wander this world as a vengeful spirit.

It didn’t sound serious for someone talking about death. However, Lucia didn’t think Glen was lying.

Lucia was someone who had felt death closer than anyone else, and she certainly sensed the smell of death from Glen’s oddly detached demeanor.

“One of the wishes to fulfill before dying… If I refuse, I’d just be the bad one.”

In the end, Lucia accepted Glen’s request.

She thought he was just an emotionless and rigid person, but as she got to know Glen more, she realized he had a mischievous side like no one else.

“You’re blushing like a teenage girl.”

“It’s true that my martial power isn’t what it used to be, but how could my skills have faded as well?”

Glen laughed off Lucia’s grumpiness and sheathed his sword.

“It was a duel using only physical abilities without unleashing aura. This means that Kyrie’s swordsmanship is on a higher level than mine.”

“…Don’t you feel frustrated?”

Feeling embarrassed by the pouring compliments, Lucia changed the subject.

“Even though I’m Kyrie, I died before I turned twenty-five.”

“Is that so? That’s not mentioned in the biography.”

“Book or whatever, anyway!”

Lucia yelled loudly, and Glen blinked.

Perhaps because of the word ‘biography,’ Lucia’s face turned red rapidly.

“Speak.”

“You are well past your forties and heading towards your fifties, right? The years I’ve held a sword, even combining my past life, are fewer than yours.”

“Hmm, do you want me to feel inferior?”

“Not exactly, but I’m just saying your attitude isn’t normal.”

“I acknowledge that I have different sensibilities from others… Well.”

Glen scratched his chin and then chuckled.

“I can clearly feel a bit of heat inside my chest, but I don’t know what this emotion is.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lost in my life.”

“Are you bragging?”

“I mean, I can’t distinguish whether the heat in my heart is inferiority, frustration, or excitement from the honor of crossing swords with a hero from 500 years ago.”

Glen lifted his head as if recalling a distant past.

What came to mind now was the sight of young Hugo losing in a sparring match during their childhood.

Trembling fists,

reddened eyes.

Even young Glen could easily understand Hugo’s obvious reaction.

The humiliation of losing to a much younger brother.

The disgrace of losing despite having wielded the sword much longer and practiced much more.

Compared to such Hugo, what about Glen now?

His fists didn’t tremble, and his teeth didn’t clench. Although the strange excitement didn’t leave his chest, it maintained a pure state without any other emotions mixed in.

“Looking back, it might have been an opportunity to understand my brother’s feelings.”

“Someone is coming.”

Reflecting on his emotions, Glen raised his head. In the distance, Shiron was approaching with an elf magician.

“Don’t speak formally to me anymore.”

After finishing her words, Lucia dusted off the dirt on her body and used magic to lightly wash her face. Glen’s lips curved slightly at the sight of her taking care of her appearance.

“Sure. I’m not a heartless person who would reveal a girl’s secrets. Especially when she is tidying up in front of a man she’s interested in…”

“I said don’t speak formally!”

Lucia blushed and kicked Glen’s shin.

“What are you two doing? Covered in dirt like that.”

Shiron, who had approached, spoke bluntly. Maybe because they had sparred? Glen and Lucia’s relationship seemed much closer than what Yuma had described.

“Are you planning to meet your uncle in that state?”

“Isn’t my big brother on a mission in the southern plains? We will take an airship anyway, right? We can use the makeshift bathroom on board to wash off the dirt.”

“I’m not taking the airship.”

“Then?”

“This magician will teleport us.”

Shiron pointed at Seira, who was preparing magic with half-closed eyes.

“I can’t tell whether she’s a magic tool or a companion.”

The elf dressed as a nun grumbled and waved her staff. Watching her, Glen tilted his head and pointed at Seira.

“Who is she?”

“Just ignore her. You wouldn’t remember even if I told you.”

“What does that…”

“It’s too long to explain, so just wash up quickly. She’s a skilled magician, so it won’t take much time to prepare.”

“…If it doesn’t take much time, then I might as well not wash. I got new clothes, and this is clean enough.”

Glen dusted off his uniform and showed a hearty smile.

[…What did I just hear? Clean in that shabby state?]

Latera, a girl in her prime, was shocked by Glen’s remark.

‘I don’t know. Let’s just go with it.’

Shiron, understanding why Hugo disliked Glen, lowered his assessment of Glen and gazed at Seira, who was equally shocked.

“You heard him, right? He wants to be sent right away.”

“Uh… got it.”

After Shiron and Glen moved to a visible distance, Seira began finishing the teleportation spell. She already knew the coordinates of where they were going.

The bank of the Amur River next to the Altai Great Plains.

Since Seira’s teleportation only worked to places she had been before, Shiron requested the closest location she remembered near the plains.

There could be dissatisfaction about not arriving directly, but it would take over a week to travel from Rien to the plains by airship.

Although following the river to the plains would still take several days, Shiron was confident they would reach the plains within a few hours.

Shiron glared at Lucia and spoke.

“Lucia.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’ll go ahead, so you wash up first.”

“O-of course!”

“Father, please close your eyes. You might feel queasy.”

“…Alright.”

Glen silently complied with Shiron’s words.

A fleeting sense of floating, and the warm spring air transformed into the dry air of the plains.

Glen opened his eyes, feeling the wind tickling his earlobes.

‘Amazing magic.’

A pure evaluation.

Magic that instantly transported them such a distance, enough to change the season and environment, was only something those of apostolic rank could use, as far as Glen knew.

Naturally, he thought the magician Shiron brought must have reached an incredible level…

‘Magician?’

Glen’s mind, becoming blurry, was startled. His consciousness no longer lingered on Seira but solely on the young man before him.

“What is that?”

Glen pointed at Shiron’s hand and asked. In his hand, there was a black object that hadn’t been there before, and Glen could easily tell what it was.

Needle-like fur.

Two pairs of horns on its head.

A dead groundhog. A beast from the demon realm, but something a skilled swordsman could handle with ease.

“Isn’t that a beast we saw near the mountain range?”

“Yes, Victor got quite angry, so it ended up like this.”

Shiron burned the beast’s corpse with holy flames. Then he looked up at the plains pierced by the river.

Black dots scattered everywhere. All of them were beasts similar to the one Shiron had caught.

‘The culling seems to be going well.’

“Let’s go.”

Shiron ran along the river with Glen. Many beasts attacked them along the way, but Shiron only kicked them away or avoided them without killing them.

After running for several hours, Shiron could see a shimmering silver mass instead of black dots.

Armors shining in the sunlight. Judging by the dozens of flags waving, it wasn’t Shiron’s Sky Knights, unfortunately.

Although they could have bypassed them, Shiron intentionally blocked their path.

“Stop right there.”

“…Who are you to block the Imperial Knights?”

A man on a horse approached and asked.

“Step aside quickly. We have injured soldiers. We must return to the camp immediately.”

“Shiron, these people seem to be in a hurry. Shouldn’t we let them pass?”

Glen tilted his head at the incomprehensible standoff. Shiron chuckled and crossed his arms.

“Who are you to impersonate Imperial Knights in a group?”

The man in front was definitely speaking the Imperial language, and his pronunciation was even clearer than Glen’s. However, he had overlooked one crucial thing—the presence of Glen’s knight uniform.

“Tell me where you got those armors before I kill you all.”

Outsiders dressed in knights’ armor stood before him. There was no particular reason to spare them. Shiron pointed at the armor and spoke seriously.

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