The training ground had grown unusually quiet, the earlier sounds of sparring and movement now faded into the distance, leaving behind an awkward, tense stillness as Mira, Serena, and Damon stood facing one another, the air between them carrying a weight that neither side was willing to ease.
Damon's gaze remained fixed on Serena as he repeated calmly, his voice steady but edged with intent, "Who won't be able to escape… young duchess?"
Serena did not step back, nor did her expression falter, her composure holding firm as she met his gaze directly.
"Of course I was talking about Mira," she replied, her tone controlled but sharp, "and don't even think she would go anywhere with you."
A quiet smile formed on Damon's face, subtle yet unmistakable, as he tilted his head slightly.
"Since when are our matters decided by you?" he asked, his voice carrying a lightness that did nothing to hide the underlying edge.
Serena let out a short, dismissive laugh.
"Hmph… who doesn't know the rumors surrounding you?" she said, her eyes narrowing faintly before shifting toward Mira, "and even she is afraid to go with you… isn't that right, Mira?"
Damon's gaze followed.
He looked at her as well, that same faint smile resting on his lips.
"Are you afraid of me, Miss Mira?" he asked.
Mira's body trembled.
Her eyes moved between the two of them, her breath unsteady as she felt something far colder than their expressions suggested, both of them smiling, yet neither of those smiles carrying any warmth, as though one wrong word could tip something irreversible.
"T-that…" she tried to speak, her voice faltering as tears began to gather in her eyes.
Damon stepped forward.
Without hesitation his hand moved to her waist, pulling her gently but firmly toward him as he turned his gaze back to Serena, who reacted instantly, stepping forward to grab Mira—
But Damon flicked her hand away with a small, controlled motion.
"Ch… ch… ch… what are you doing?" he said lightly, almost amused, "you are the heir of a duchy… what would people think if they saw this?"
His tone shifted just slightly as he continued, his words deliberate.
"They might assume a wife is fighting off her husband's mistress out of jealousy."
Serena stopped.
Her hand froze mid-motion.
Her eyes turned cold as she looked at him, the implication landing exactly as intended.
Damon met that gaze without concern, his expression remaining calm as he added almost casually, "Or is that actually the case? Even back in the classroom, you behaved the same way… could it be that the heiress of a duchy has developed a crush on me?"
"Stop spouting nonsense," Serena replied immediately, her voice low and cold, though the tension in her posture had tightened.
Damon straightened fully then, his presence sharpening as the faint amusement left his expression, replaced by something far more direct.
"Then get lost."
The words were simple.
Unadorned but final.
Before Serena could respond, Damon's attention had already shifted back to Mira, his expression softening once more as though the previous exchange had never happened, his hand sliding down to take hers as he spoke.
"We have some private things to discuss."
Mira froze.
Her face flushed instantly, her thoughts exploding at the word.
"P-private…?"
Before she could process anything further, Damon had already begun pulling her along, guiding her forward as they passed directly in front of Serena, whose fists clenched tightly at her sides, her silence louder than any words she could have spoken.
Mira found herself already being led through the training facility, her steps almost automatic as her thoughts lagged behind, and by the time she became aware of her surroundings again, Damon had already activated the chamber through her Manacron, the familiar hum of the system echoing faintly as the door sealed behind them.
The space shifted.
A mechanical silhouette formed at a distance, its shape stabilizing as the training system initialized, but Damon did not move toward it immediately.
Instead, he turned ,his gaze settled on Mira.
"Miss Mira," he said.
She flinched slightly, as if pulled out of a trance, her eyes lifting toward him with a faint delay.
Damon offered a small, composed smile, his tone steady as he spoke, "You are an important asset to our party."
You are an important asset of mine..
His expression did not change.
"I cannot allow you to get harmed."
You are a walking hospital… how can I let you become useless…
He continued, his voice measured, almost reassuring.
"We do not know what we might face in the future, and while I will make sure that you are not harmed in any situation…"
His thoughts ran parallel, colder, sharper.
I cannot always be with you… and if someone else tries to take what is mine…
"…in case I am not there," he added, his tone softening slightly as if reluctant, "I need you to be able to protect yourself until I arrive."
You should at least be able to fend them off…
Mira stood there, listening.
Her mind, for once, did not spiral into chaos.
Instead, she looked at him with a quiet daze, her ears turning faintly red—not with embarrassment born from imagination, but something softer, something unfamiliar.
"Y-young duke… is not as bad as the rumors say…" she murmured, her voice slow, almost absent-minded.
The moment the words left her lips, her eyes widened.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"I-I didn't mean—"
Damon stepped closer.
Before she could continue, his hand rose, gently but firmly covering her mouth, stopping her words before they could spill further.
"Say no more, Miss Mira," he said quietly.
For a brief second, his gaze shifted away, his expression tightening almost imperceptibly as something unspoken passed through his thoughts, his hand clenching slightly before he exhaled and shook his head faintly, dismissing it.
"I will teach you some basic self-defense," he continued, his tone returning to its usual calm.
"…okay!"
Mira nodded immediately, her movements quick and eager, her earlier panic replaced with something closer to trust.
Damon watched her for a brief moment.
Then turned ,his eyes narrowing slightly.
First stage… complete.
Damon moved toward the mechanical silhouette as it stabilized fully, its form taking on a neutral combat stance, and with a brief glance back at Mira, he gestured for her to come closer, his tone calm and instructive as he began.
"Watch carefully first… then repeat."
He demonstrated a simple motion, a controlled step forward paired with a guarded stance, followed by a short, direct strike aimed at the torso, nothing flashy, nothing excessive, just clean and practical movement designed for survival rather than dominance.
"Now you try."
Mira stepped forward hesitantly, her hands raising awkwardly as she attempted to mimic the stance, but her posture was stiff, her balance uneven, and when she tried to throw a punch, it came out weak and misaligned, her arm stopping halfway as if unsure whether it should even move further.
Damon sighed quietly before stepping closer.
"Your shoulder is too tense," he said, reaching out to adjust her arm.
His fingers wrapped lightly around her wrist, guiding it into position, while his other hand rested briefly against her shoulder to correct her posture.
Mira froze.
Her breath hitched.
"A-ah…!" she let out a soft, startled sound, her face flushing instantly as her thoughts began racing in a completely different direction.
Damon, however, remained entirely focused.
"Relax," he said simply, unaware of the storm he had just triggered, "if you stay stiff like this, you won't be able to move properly."
He released her and stepped back slightly.
"Again."
Mira nodded quickly, though her face was still red as she tried once more, this time managing a slightly better motion, though still far from effective.
Damon stepped in again.
This time positioning himself behind her.
"Move your weight forward," he instructed, his hand coming to her waist to shift her stance slightly while his other hand guided her arm once more.
Mira's entire body jolted.
"U-umm…!" she squeaked softly, her thoughts instantly spiraling as she could feel his hot breath on her neck…taking her back to the dream she had..
Damon released her almost immediately.
"Focus," he said, his tone calm but firm.
They continued.
At one point, the silhouette lunged forward, and Damon moved instinctively, stepping in front of Mira while grabbing her arm and pulling her slightly to the side to avoid the incoming strike, his body brushing against hers for just a second as he redirected her movement.
"Ah—!" Mira let out another small cry, her face turning even redder as her mind once again betrayed her, interpreting everything in ways that had nothing to do with what was actually happening.
Damon, on the other hand, simply countered the silhouette's movement before stepping back, glancing at her with a faint frown.
"…You need to stop panicking at every touch," he said, though his tone lacked real reprimand.
They went through a few more basic motions, Damon correcting her stance, guiding her hands, repositioning her feet, each interaction brief and purely functional from his side, while Mira struggled through every step, her reactions delayed not because of difficulty alone, but because her thoughts refused to stay where they were supposed to.
Despite that—
There was slight progress.
Minimal.
But present.
Finally, Damon stepped back fully, exhaling lightly as he assessed her.
…This girl is a mess, he thought to himself, though outwardly his expression remained composed, she can't even punch properly…
"Okay," he said aloud, his tone returning to its usual calm, "we're done for today… let's leave."
Mira stiffened instantly.
"Eh… l-leave?" she repeated, her voice small, as if the word itself had caught her off guard.
Damon looked at her for a moment—
And then laughed softly.
"Why do you look so disappointed?" he asked, a faint amusement slipping into his tone.
Mira's face turned completely red.
"D-disappointed…?" she muttered, her voice barely holding together as her thoughts once again tangled beyond control.
The walk to Mira's dorm passed in a quiet, almost fleeting rhythm.
The evening settling softly around them as Damon stopped just outside the entrance while she stepped inside, only to pause again and glance back at him, her hesitation lingering for a moment before she saw him still standing there with that same composed smile, his hand lifting in a small wave that made her turn away quickly, only to look back again—once, then twice—until finally, unable to hold herself any longer, she hurried inside and disappeared from sight.
Damon remained there for a brief second after the doors closed, and then as he turned away, the smile fell from his face.
His expression flattening into something far more detached as he adjusted his jaw slightly and muttered under his breath , "It's always a hassle maintaining that fake smile."
He walked back through the academy in the dimming light, his pace steady and unhurried as the evening deepened, and by the time he returned to his dorm, the rest of the day slipped by without anything worth noting, the hours passing in routine silence as night settled fully.
Even so, his body proved far less cooperative than his mind, as he once again found himself reacting to Sahira's presence in ways he neither welcomed nor indulged, forcing the matter down with a cold shower and sheer restraint, choosing control over distraction.
And just like that, the night passed.
Morning came again.
***
"Morning! I will be teaching you Usage of Weaponry and Artifacts."