The next day, I forced myself to read.
Again.
And again.
Even if I didn't understand, I memorized.
If the book held truth, then somewhere inside me, it would make sense one day.
The door creaked open.
Khaun walked in, sipping from his bottle like always. His eyes landed on me—and he smiled.
"So… are you ready?"
I closed the book slowly.
"Yes."
He stepped closer.
"Good. First question."
He paused.
"What is mana?"
I answered immediately, repeating from the book:
"Mana is a concept developed alongside human civilization. It supports prosperity and exists everywhere—"
"Wrong."
The word cut through me.
I froze.
Khaun clicked his tongue.
"I didn't ask what the book says," he said, pointing the bottle at me. "I asked you."
His eyes sharpened.
"What is mana?"
I hesitated.
"…For human growth… development—"
"Tch."
He looked disappointed.
Then—
"Do you know why magic was developed?"
Silence.
He answered himself.
"For killing."
My breath caught.
His gaze became cold.
"Mana exists for killing. Don't dress it up with pretty words."
He took a long drink.
"Swordsmen use aura. Mages use spells. Different paths… same purpose."
He stepped closer.
"Never forget that."
I swallowed.
"…Understood."
He exhaled, then waved his hand dismissively.
"Since it's your first time, I'll go easy on you."
He pointed at the book.
"That's my gift. Read it properly."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"But punishment is punishment."
I tensed.
"I'm curious," he continued, smirking. "A dark affinity knight… I've only seen mages. I want to see how your body reacts."
He lifted his bottle slightly.
"So—duel me."
I stared at him.
"You're a mage. Close combat isn't your strength."
He chuckled.
"Are you accepting or not?"
"…I'll fight."
"Good."
He turned toward the door.
"Not today. I've got work."
He glanced back.
"Two days from now. Be ready."
Then, as if remembering something—
"Oh. Your mercenary friends return this evening. The Duke won."
I leaned forward slightly.
"Casualties?"
Khaun waved his hand.
"None."
Relief washed over me.
He left.
A while later, Ranile arrived.
"The Duke wishes to see you."
My heart tightened.
Of course.
I hit his daughter.
This might be where it ends.
People like me don't get warnings.
We get "accidents."
Still… I followed.
The same room.
The same man.
This time, he was already seated—waiting.
Ranile gestured.
I sat across from him.
Von rested his hands together, fingers interlocked.
"So," he began calmly, "what do you think of my daughter?"
I blinked.
The answer slipped out too fast.
"She's a good fighter—"
His gaze sharpened.
"If I wanted flattery, I would ask her teacher."
Silence.
"Tell me the truth. About the duel."
I exhaled slowly.
"Her techniques are excellent. Clean. Refined."
I paused.
"But…"
"She fights like she's following a book."
Von didn't interrupt.
"She has good instincts," I continued. "After I threw her, she adapted instantly. That choke… it was dangerous."
I met his eyes.
"If she trusted that instinct from the beginning, she would be much stronger."
I leaned back slightly.
"Right now… everything is too controlled."
"Too perfect."
"Like a statue."
"She needs flow."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
A soft sound.
From behind a shelf, Lerana stepped out.
So she was listening.
Her eyes were locked on me.
Not angry this time.
Focused.
Thinking.
Von glanced at her briefly… then back at me.
"…Interesting."