episode_0014

I stopped mid-swing of my sword.

“Young Lady, your breathing is uneven.”

“Haah… Haah… Sorry, just a moment.”

A brief silence fell over the training grounds, which had been filled with the sound of wooden swords clashing against the cold dawn air.

Firunea wiped the sweat from her forehead, gasping for breath.

She had just turned 14.

The traces of a childish girl were fading, and the poise of a proper young lady was beginning to take shape.

Thanks to her relentless training over the past year—without missing a single day—her slender yet firm physique and balance made it clear she was no ordinary noble girl.

But the price had been harsh.

After her father’s death, Firunea drove herself mercilessly, as if punishing herself.

Every day, she rose before dawn to begin morning training, followed by magic practice, swordsmanship, and combat drills in the morning. In the afternoon, she learned the practicalities of managing the household with Head Butler MacLaine or studied the intricacies of noble society and its covert struggles with me through theoretical lessons and mock training.

Even after dinner, she dragged her exhausted body to delve into research on the dwarven legacy late into the night.

This brutal schedule meant Firunea averaged no more than four hours of sleep over the past year.

It was an unbearable march for someone so young. She nearly collapsed countless times—and sometimes did.

Each time, I had to force her to rest, but without fail, Firunea would return to the training grounds the next day.

“Again.”

After steadying her breath, Firunea adjusted her grip on the wooden sword and spoke curtly.

The emptiness in her eyes had been replaced by a cold flame.

Yet, she was not consumed by anger.

Firunea clung to her former self while striving to move forward.

“Hyah!”

Her sword cut through the air with a sharp whistle—unmatched in speed and weight compared to a year ago.

Not only did she possess innate magical talent, but her physical abilities and combat instincts were also extraordinary.

Now that she had mastered the basics of the Serbus family’s secret swordsmanship and assassination techniques, she could hold her own against most knights alone.

But—she was still far from enough.

Clang! The wooden swords collided, sending splinters flying.

I parried Firunea’s strike and exploited the opening.

“Your blade lacks intent. Channel more killing intent.”

“…Ghk!”

As my wooden sword grazed her shoulder, Firunea gritted her teeth and stepped back.

Though it was just a practice weapon and no serious injury, she winced at the sharp pain.

Of course, I did not apologize.

“You still have a long way to go.”

This was training, after all.

At my cold assessment, Firunea bit her lip without a word. Her expression was less frustration and more a deep acknowledgment of her own inadequacy.

This had been our daily routine for the past year.

I was Firunea’s teacher, her watcher, and at the same time, the closest witness to her transformation.

Truthfully—I was proud of her.

The way she endured this grueling schedule without complaint every single day even evoked a sense of respect.

Especially compared to the girl I had first met.

Of course, I could never show such emotions outwardly.

“Let’s stop here for today. It’s time for breakfast.”

“…Alright.”

Firunea reluctantly lowered her wooden sword. Though drenched in sweat, her gaze remained sharp.

We left the training grounds in silence.

The mansion was bustling in the early morning. After Duke Pitus’s death, the Serlatus family had faltered momentarily, but thanks to MacLaine’s seasoned leadership and, above all, the presence of the steadfast heir Firunea, it quickly regained stability.

Of course, that stability was only surface-level.

Beneath the waters, covert struggles continued.

Rival families, particularly the Lorencia Marquisate, persistently sought to weaken the Serlatus family’s influence.

The imperial family, too, kept a close watch on the Serlatus family amid the shifting power dynamics after Duke Pitus’s death, sometimes restraining them and other times attempting to use them.

In the hallway leading to the dining room, Firunea paused briefly to gaze out the window.

The sun had risen, bathing the garden in golden light.

Though the scenery was peaceful, no emotion flickered in the young lady’s eyes.

“Virudem.”

I responded to her quiet murmur, almost like a soliloquy.

“Yes, Young Lady.”

“I… will become stronger.”

“Indeed. You will surpass everyone, Young Lady.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Though the process will be excruciating enough to kill you.”

“That’s… fine.”

Firunea smiled softly and nodded.

“No matter what happens, I’ll endure.”

“Young Lady…”

“So, keep supporting me.”

“No matter what happens, I will.”

Looking at Firunea’s resolute expression, I felt a swell of pride.

If it was for the young lady as she was now—

For some reason, I felt I could even lay down my life for her.

And time passed—until Firunea’s 19th birthday arrived.

And I truly found myself on the verge of sacrificing my life.

Though I sensed no killing intent, poison, or anger… a playful, coquettish voice laden with sweetness rang in my ears.

“Virudem, how do I look?”

…To me, it sounded like a death sentence.

Gritting my teeth, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Young Lady, please forgive me. I don’t remember what I did wrong, but it’s entirely my fault.”

“What are you talking about? I’m asking for your opinion. Tell me what you think.”

“…”

At her teasing tone, I sighed deeply.

Where did that vengeful spirit go?

Even at 16, she had been brimming with venom.

But after learning to conceal her emotions as she grew… she changed.

It was the right direction. Still, I hadn’t expected this.

I cracked my eyes open just a sliver—

And immediately recoiled in horror at the sight of bare skin before attempting to flee.

But the doorknob had already turned to solid steel.

No incantation, no telekinesis—instantaneous. It could only mean one thing.

…Seventh Circle.

Her bone-grinding training had not betrayed her.

A goddess of magic, draped in the guise of a demon, stood before me.

Meanwhile, Firunea giggled and walked toward me.

“I am properly dressed. Take a look. I won’t let you leave until you give me your honest opinion.”

“Haah…”

Mentally offering a mix of apology and resentment to my former master, Duke Pitus, I slowly opened my eyes.

—She was dressed. A beige dress, modest accessories, and above all, eyes clearer and more transparent than any gemstone blinked at me, urging an answer.

The last part was my favorite. Though breathtakingly beautiful, I had to repay her teasing, so I deliberately stroked my chin and sighed.

“Hmm…”

“What? Why?”

“Huuuuh…”

“What is it?”

“Young Lady.”

“?”

“Do you want my honest opinion, or one that won’t hurt your feelings?”

“…”

Firunea gritted her teeth and kicked my shin repeatedly with her heel.

It hurt, but there was no real malice behind it.

If there had been, I’d have been reduced to minced meat by now.

I chuckled briefly before hastily offering my sincere thoughts at her sharpening glare.

“Just kidding. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“…Hmph, that’s the ‘won’t hurt my feelings’ one. Give me the honest one.”

“In my opinion, your dress is far too plain compared to your beauty.”

“This was handcrafted by Lady Ignarin, the best designer in the capital?”

“Then even the finest designer’s work pales in comparison. You may never find clothing worthy of you in this lifetime.”

“Curse your master as a butler, how wicked.”

Despite her words, the corners of Firunea’s lips had already softened.

Thud. As the door opened behind me, I exhaled slightly and bowed my head.

“Please finish preparations by 3 o’clock. Many guests are already waiting.”

“Can’t I just tell them all to leave?”

Having spent so long with her, I could tell—Firunea was half-serious.

But the fact that she wouldn’t say it outright was the only difference between her past and present self.

Now, Firunea understood what she must do and what she must not.

“Doing so would make your future social engagements difficult.”

“Tch, what a shame.”

Leaving Firunea’s room, I went to find Head Butler MacLaine for a final report.

“Ah, Virudem. Is the Young Lady ready?”

“Yes. She said she’ll come down by 3 at the latest. But…”

I studied MacLaine’s expression. He seemed troubled.

“Is something wrong?”

“…Well, not exactly a problem, but…”

After a moment of hesitation, MacLaine muttered something strange.

“A rather… special guest has arrived. Armelia of the Faltis family. Heard of her?”

“…Why would the descendant of a Hero visit the Young Lady?”

Armelia. Though not a prominent family, their ancestors had once been Heroes, and every generation since had produced monstrously powerful individuals unmatched in their era.

You might joke that if a bodybuilder married a weightlifter, their kids would be champions—but in this world, what’s inherited isn’t baldness or cancer but magical and swordsmanship talent. Bloodline determined 90% of one’s potential.

“I find it odd as well. I was concerned she might have ulterior motives…”

“I don’t foresee any issues. The Young Lady’s temperament has improved greatly. Even if provoked, she won’t react recklessly.”

“That’s true. And that is entirely your doing.”

MacLaine looked at me with a satisfied expression—yet there was a hint of bitterness in his gaze.

“Had it not been for you, the Young Lady… might have strayed down a darker path.”

“…You flatter me.”

“No. After Lord Pitus passed, I watched everything you did for her. It wasn’t mere loyalty. You gave her purpose and supported her, allowing her to mature as she has.”

MacLaine closed his eyes, imagining a future that never came to pass, before solemnly declaring:

“Today is the Young Lady’s birthday, but Virudem, you too deserve a gift.”

“A gift, sir?”

“Yes. You’ve earned it. But first, oversee today’s event. I’ll call for you separately this evening.”

“Ah, understood…”

I bowed and left.

A gift from MacLaine…

It wasn’t that I wasn’t expecting anything, but…

Something felt off. It might sound ungrateful, but—

Dogs resemble their masters, they say, and MacLaine, like Firunea, had his own eccentricities.