A Blade That Refuses to Bow
It has been a day since Videl returned to the knight academy, and it was tense.
Not the kind of tension that fades with time.
No—
This one lingered.
In the air.
In the whispers.
In the eyes that followed her every step.
The moment she stepped through the academy gates, it began.
At first, it was just a few glances.
Then murmurs.
Then—
A crowd.
Students gathered around her like a storm closing in. Nobles, commoners, elites—none of it mattered in that moment. Their gazes burned with the same thing.
Greed.
Curiosity.
Jealousy.
"…That's the sword, right?"
"…The one from the selection…"
"…There's no way a commoner should have something like that…"
Voices overlapped, sharp and relentless.
One stepped forward, a noble by the look of his uniform, chin raised high.
"How much?"
Videl blinked once.
"…What?"
"The sword," he said, his tone already carrying impatience. "Name your price."
A few others quickly followed.
"I'll double it."
