Irene put down the document in her hand, raised her arms above her head, and stretched her upper body. Since morning, she'd been sitting in her office, sorting through all sorts of paperwork and documents. Although she'd gotten used to it by now, it was irrefutable that it was still a very tiring and stressful routine.
"Let's take a break," said Irene in a clear and loud voice.
The assistants in the room heaved a sigh of relief.
"Finally," whispered one of them.
"It's that time of the day, huh?" another assistant whispered back.
Every day, they looked forward to this time when the secretary would go out to the Training Hall exclusive to royal family members. They heard that she'd been meeting a man there—but that part didn't matter. What mattered was during this break, the assistants could take a breather for an hour or two, away from the secretary's constant scrutiny.
Irene stood, grabbed the basket filled with pastries she'd baked herself, and said, "We'll resume auditing the ledgers of all temple donations once I return."
"Yes, Lady Secretary."
After casting one last look at her subordinates, Irene left the office.
While walking, she glanced at the basket in her hand.
I didn't ask him, but… he must like sweet things, right?
The image of the golden-haired man who she always watched train during her break started appearing in her mind. For a moment, she wondered if she was being too straightforward with this. She even went as far as baking these pastries for him.
"Pull yourself together," she said to herself. "There's no going back."
With a determined gaze, she traversed the long hallways of the castle— her destination, the Training Hall, where Anandra honed his swordsmanship.
"Hey, isn't that the new secretary?"
Along the way, Irene passed two familiar faces. Like Anandra, they were among King Lark's disciples: George and Austen.
After the strife between the royal guards and the Blackstone Soldiers, the brothers became known as troublemakers. Irene heard that they used to be timid, well-disciplined boys before Lark ascended the throne. But now, they'd become cheeky brats who frequently pranked people. Fortunately, King Lark still made sure to rein in the two properly. He frequently dished out punishments for the brothers, even going as far as increasing the difficulty of their training whenever they committed mistakes.
"Hey, didn't I tell you to stop pointing at people?" Austen said to George. Austen cast an apologetic glance at Irene.
George placed his hands behind his head. He grumbled, "We're brothers. Stop acting like my father. And I'm hungry. It's frustrating that we have to wait several more months before we can enter the royal kitchen again! Can you believe it? We went all the way there, and they still chased us out like we're some sort of criminals! They kept talking about royal decree, royal order, His Majesty's command, blah blah blah!"
Austen frowned. "Stop being a brat, George. If you keep this up, I'll tell Master."
That threat was more than enough to effectively shut George's mouth.
After silence fell, Austen greeted Irene. "Good afternoon, Lady Irene," said Austen. He placed a hand on his chest and lightly bowed his head in greeting. Seeing this, George followed suit and also greeted the secretary.
Irene smiled. "A pleasant afternoon, Young Masters."
Austen gazed at Irene, particularly at the basket she was carrying.
Judging by her direction, it seemed she was headed toward the Royal Training Hall.
"Are you going to visit the old man, Miss Secretary?" said Austen carefully.
"Old man?" Irene said quizzically. A second after, she realized who Austen was pertaining to. "Ah, you mean Young Master Anandra?"
"That's right." Austen nodded.
"B-But why are you calling him an old man?" said Irene.
"Because he is an old man," said Austen with a straight face.
"Don't be fooled by his looks, Lady Secretary," added George in an unusually expressionless face. "He's really old. Like… a gramps. If you understand what I mean."
For a moment, Irene started doubting her knowledge. She'd heard Anandra was a few years younger than her.
"So, you're visiting him?" said Austen.
Irene said in an awkward voice, "I'm… not visiting him. I'm just taking my break there, since it's nice and quiet."
"Of course," said Austen in understanding. He knew those were simply excuses, but deemed there was no reason for him to point it out. "But I hate to say this, Lady Secretary. Even if you go there, you won't be able to enter.
The old man won't be training there today."
"He isn't coming today? What do you mean?"
Austen and George looked at each other. They realized that the secretary, who'd been cooped up in her office the whole morning, hadn't heard the news yet.
"You haven't heard about the spar?" said George.
The two proceeded to explain that Captain Symon, the captain of the royal knights and the man who inherited the techniques of Sword Saint Marrozo, was going to spar with Anandra. It was a fairly big event, as the two were known to be incredibly powerful warriors. Even Irene, a non-combatant, had heard of the Sword Saint Marrozo and Captain Symon.
"It shouldn't have started yet. If we go now, we should be able to make it on time," said Austen. "The two of us are headed there ourselves."
"I'd rather eat in the royal kitchen though," murmured George.
Austen glared at George, then smiled at Irene. "How about it, Lady Irene? Want to come with us and watch the old man and the captain fight?"
Irene readily nodded. She gripped the handle of the basket in her hand tightly.
"Yes. Please take me with you."
*** "It hasn't started yet!" said Austen.
Irene, Austen, and George had arrived at the training grounds just in time.
Over a hundred spectators had gathered to watch the battle, and most of them were royal guards.
Looking around, they saw that Princess Esmeralda and her personal knights, Chryselle, and several Arzomos had come to watch the fight. Even Big Mona was here, along with Arzen and Mokuva.
Standing at the center of the large arena were three people—King Lark, Anandra, and Captain Symon.
"I think it's starting," said George. "We made it just in time."
"Stop stating the obvious," said Austen. "Listen. Although the old man is a demon whenever he trains us, he's still our fellow disciple—our senior.
We should at least show him our support during times like this."
George nodded. "I know." He raised his right arm and waved it several times. He shouted, "Go for it, old man! Do to him what you've been doing to us during training! Show your inner demon! Beat him up!"
Some of the royal guards, who knew the relationship between Anandra and the brothers, laughed. Even Cherry found it amusing.
Lark chuckled. He said to Anandra, "Hear that? The kids are cheering for you."
Anandra gazed at the brothers, then at Lark.
"Shouting in the presence of the king… Should I discipline them after this fight, Master?" said Anandra.
"Don't be too strict." Lark smiled. "They've never been able to enjoy their childhood. Let them act their age. Let them act like the kids they are every now and then."
"I understand," said Anandra. "I'll try to be lenient then."
"And look over there," said Lark.
Anandra followed Lark's gaze and saw a woman with similar golden hair, worried-looking eyes, and sun-kissed skin. She was holding a basket in her hands as she nervously stood there, waiting for the fight to start.
"Even our dear secretary came all the way here to watch the battle," said Lark in a teasing voice. "Do you want to exchange a word or two with her before the fight starts?"
Anandra averted his gaze. "No. There's no need for such trivial things, Master."
Lark laughed. "Is that so?" He turned to Captain Symon. "How about you, Captain?"
Captain Symon, who'd been silently standing nearby, spoke, "We can start anytime, Your Majesty."
Lark decided to finally start the match. He amplified his voice with mana and spoke clear and loud.
"Now that the two participants for this battle are ready, we're going to start the match," said Lark.
The buzzing and murmurs in the training grounds died out at once.
"Give them their swords," said Lark.
Two soldiers went inside the arena and handed Anandra and Captain Symon iron swords. Lark had decided on this arrangement, since using an adamantite sword against the captain would give Anandra too much advantage.
The iron swords were of the cheap kind—practice swords that were normally thrown away after forming even the slightest chips and cracks.
This way, the two would be able to fully showcase their skills without relying on their weapons too much.
After the swords were handed out to the two fighters, Lark continued with his speech, "Although I call this a spar, I wish for these two warriors to fight with their lives on the line. Fight with the intention of killing your opponent."
Clumps of mana gathered in front of Lark. They spun around, eventually forming two thumb-sized crystals. The crystals hovered in the air for several seconds, before moving toward Anandra and the captain.
The crystallized mana touched their bodies and sunk into their chests, disappearing from sight.
"It's a protection spell," said Lark, explaining to the two fighters and the spectators what the crystals were. "A shield capable of blocking life-threatening damage, so feel free to go all out and fight to your heart's content."
After spending years with Lark, Anandra had gotten used to these spells by now. Captain Symon, on the other hand, was astonished by Lark's announcement.
There was no longer any fear of killing each other even if they dueled to their heart's content. It was truly a miraculous spell.
"The rules are simple," said Lark. "Break the protection spell of your opponent. The battle ends the moment one of you has their protection spell shattered, loses consciousness, or surrenders."
Lark opened his arms wide. "So, fight without fear. Show us your skills."
There was a pause. Lark said in a firm, loud voice, "Match, start!"
*** From a very young age, as the only son of Sword Saint Marozzo, great things were already expected of Captain Symon.
Even when he'd managed to achieve sword enlightenment at the age of nineteen, no one batted an eye and simply took this achievement as a given.
Even when he single-handedly cleared out the bandits living near their barony, even when he became the captain of the royal knights, he never once received words of praise from his father.
His father told him: 'Listen, Symon. Simply being strong isn't enough.
As the man who will inherit the Marozzo Swordsmanship, you should be the strongest. How long are you going to stay as the mere captain of the royal knights? Look at Nickolai! After he became one of the Royal Court Magicians, he took in disciples and created a strong faction within the royal capital!' It was disgusting.
Although his father was heralded as one of the two Sword Saints, Symon knew that his father never cared for anything but glory and power.
Sword Saint Marozzo even treated his only son as nothing but a tool to pass on his techniques and legacy.
His father always reminded him that the sword of the Marozzo was capable of cutting through anything—that he should never lose to anyone, even if the opponent was a Royal Court Magician.
Captain Symon slowly unsheathed his sword and took a fighting stance.
He gazed at the golden-haired man before him. If the rumors were correct, then the first disciple of His Majesty, King Lark, should be a formidable opponent.
After Lark left the arena and the signal to start the match was given, Captain Symon wasted no time and immediately shot toward his opponent.
Captain Symon could no longer hear the voices of the spectators, and the faces of those watching the battle became blurry as he faced his opponent with single-minded focus.
With the spell protecting their bodies, there was no need for them to hold back. Captain Symon planned on going all out and ending this fight quickly.
The fifth style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Flowing Flower.
One of the strongest techniques of the Marozzo Swordsmanship. The same technique he used to cut several legs off the arachnia they'd encountered in the labyrinth of the Forbidden Region.
Upon reaching Anandra, the sword Captain Symon raised above his head multiplied several times, forming nine blades that resembled a recently bloomed flower. He swung his sword, and the blades fell toward Anandra at the same time.