Zee went home to Aunt Cage’s billet in the outskirts, hidden behind a hedge of thorny bushes adorned by purple flowers.

It smelled of pine the moment she stepped inside. The dinner table by the little window had already been set. There were thin beds to the left and right, little more than glorified benches.

A parking cone was set down at the foot of one of the beds. Something sizzled and tickled her nose. Her host was already cooking something up by the kitchenette beside the dinner table.

The first thing Zee did, though, was collapse on her bed, longsword and armor and all. Her hands reached the floor on the other side.

“At least change,” Aunt Cage said, “and change the mattress you’ve dirtied.” Zee grunted.

She changed. Night fell, and her longsword was leaning on one corner of the place. Zee was seated behind one side of an old table, made from uneven, unvarnished planks. Cage placed a cute hotpot between them and sat with her.

“What do I do?” Zee said.

“Nothing,” Cage said.

“But—”

“But what? He is clearly not an ordinary man.” Cage smirked. “Too young for my taste, sadly. Perhaps you would still have hope?”

Zee grunted. She sighed. “Still, the Princess Knight, huh?”

“That also surprised me.”

“I always thought she would be more…I don’t know, royal?”

“They come in various shades, you know.”

“I know that. I want to believe that…”

Cage sighed. “That man’s head has long rolled and been fed to the wolves.”

“I know…”

They silently ate for a while. This sort of quiet after a heavy conversation disturbed Cage.

“By the way,” she said, “tomorrow’s your turn, isn’t it?”

“Right.”

“Company’s always looking for fresh meat.” Cage snickered. “Poor vixens.”

“Right.”

“Right, wasn’t that man’s one companion among them?”

Zee paused. The Knight—she had not considered her.

“You shouldn’t be harsh to her,” Cage continued, “for more reasons than just being nice.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“She is that man’s companion, after all, and that man is now related to the Princess Knight.”

Zee’s eyes widened. She had not considered that.

Cage laughed as bread fell from Zee’s non-responsive mouth.

***

Against Zee’s wishes, the next day arrived. There were far more applicants today than yesterday, which was to be expected.

Yesterday was mage day, and today was fighters day. Hundreds of people lined the stands of the arena, making noise each time a fighter down below fell to one of the examiners. Some were there just to make fun of their friends as they bit the dust, while others watched solemnly as their daughters achieved their dreams or failed to reach them.

Kalender’s group were among those people—sans Jyn and Lilia, who were down there somewhere, waiting on one of the many benches on the sidelines.

…Though, a shadow was cast over Page’s face.

“Hey,” Kalender bumped her in the elbow, “what’s up?”

“Er… I just realized you’re all joining the Company while I’m just”—Page looked away—“aren’t I weaker than a slime?”

“Even if you’ve got more MP than most?”

“But I don’t have enough MP to be useful in a real fight, either!”

Kalender smiled wryly. He rubbed Page’s back. “Come on. Isn’t it just that you haven’t trained seriously enough?”

“Neither have you!” Page pouted. “Your moves yesterday weren’t normal, you know! It’s completely unexpected!”

“W-was it?” Kalender scratched his head. He just saw the pocket sand thing from a movie, after all, and blasting a laser at a lizard wasn’t a complicated move to pull off. Ah, well, laser magic basically doesn’t exist here, I guess. Still, that wasn’t a real tactic. He had no pride on that front.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“How about we check out the Research Guild after this, then?” he continued.

“Huh, why?” She fake-gasped. “Are you saying I really am useless in a fight?!”

Kalender lightly slapped her shoulder. “Just to explore things! It might help shore up some unknown weakness of yours, right?”

“Ah—hm—well—I guess…fair.” She looked out. “Oh, look, it’s Lilia’s turn!”

“Hm? Really—”

“She won!”

“I didn’t even turn my head yet!”

The surrounding audience murmured.

“That girl’s strong.”

“Damn! I wanna fight her, next!”

“Did you see that? What happened?”

“If I saw things correctly…she sneezed.”

“She what?!”

“She sneezed, perfectly evading the examiner’s first attack, and on her second sneeze, she rolled forwards, dodging the follow-up.”

Kalender leaned over to Page. “Are they crazy or did she actually do that?”

“Ah, I think they just fought normally, though?”

“So, she didn’t sneeze or anything?”

“I didn’t see what happened, but I just heard a single sword blow, and then the examiner already had her hands up.”

The examiners and examinees were using wooden swords. Impacts weren’t loud, but they were still distinct.

Kalender nodded. “Ah, yeah, I heard that, too.”

After Lilia was Jyn’s turn. Kalender and Page narrowed their eyes when they saw that it was Zee who was going to face her—but Page’s expression relaxed, seeing Zee’s color. “Oh.”

Kalender looked to her. “What’s up?”

“She’s nervous.”

In the middle of the arena, surrounded by hundreds of noisy observers, Zee and Jyn stood 10 meters apart. It seemed far, but if both parties were fast, it wouldn’t even take 2 seconds to come into fighting range and make their first critical moves.

Zee knew, in front of Jyn, she was like a child when it came to swordplay. She might be on a level where she could still see the sword coming at her, but she wasn’t good enough to even do anything about it. It was already a foregone conclusion that Jyn would pass.

However, that wasn’t Zee’s issue here.

Kalender’s match with Arpeggio moved her deeply, to the point of uprooting her entire fighting philosophy. Of course, philosophy was just trash in the face of an uncaring monster, but against a person, it was no longer about victory or defeat. Regardless of differences in strength, Kalender showed her that fighting could still be a conversation.

She could lose, and yet make her message shine bright.

“Humbly, Knight Jyn,” she brought her sword to low guard, “would you dance with this me, Hunter Zere Cage?”

Jyn’s eyes went wide. She didn’t have much in the way of etiquette training, but this one, she knew what a noble’s dance invitation was like. They did such things to express romantic interest in their peers, publicly declare allegiances, and in rare cases—such was a noble’s pride—to publicly issue an apology.

There were two ways this could go for Zee. She’d spat on Jyn’s honor as a Knight, and Jyn had all the right to curbstomp her right here. It would be fair, she thought.

To her surprise, Jyn lowered her sword from high to a low guard, mirroring Zee. “Certainly,” she said.

She’s…accepting it?

Zee took a step forwards, and Jyn mirrored it in turn.

Instead of an all-out rush that everyone expected, the two calmly walked towards the other, pointed their swords at each other, and cautiously tapped their tips in greeting. They circled around each other, never breaking their gaze from each others’ eyes.

Fierce, those eyes were not, but determined, certainly so.

Then their focus expanded from the eyes to whole of the body. The angles of their arms, where their feet were planted, how their eyes darted—they predicted each other in a game of minds that only those who picked up the art of the sword could see.

…and Kalender.

He’d decided on upgrading Interpersonal Bubble. Skills were rare, and he hadn’t picked up any in a while. His only Skill Point was just sitting around collecting dust, so…might as well.

[Interpersonal Bubble (2/5)]

This gave him the ability to judge the spatial conflict between two people, and boy was watching Jyn and Zee just stare each other already intense in itself! The projections of their personal bubbles were sparring for them, it seemed. The moment either of them slipped up was probably when the match would be decided.

The arena descended into silence. It was so quiet, in fact, that everyone could hear the sand fly as Zee lunged the side, and Jyn’s own feet gave a reply. They were stepping and stopping, and finally, their blades made comically light contact. They started fencing in noncommittal attacks, introducing more and more chaos to the other’s thought process.

The tension in the audience ebbed and flowed with the many close calls Zee had to squeeze herself out of. Jyn was in perfect control of the fight, and with that, she was wringing out Zee’s best like a wet towel, playing at a level that made it feel good to fight.

They broke off, and Jyn arrogantly put her sword into high guard, placing herself in an open position.

Zee answered with the flashiest technique a longsword-wielder at her level could ever hope to achieve.

As a longsword-wielder, after all, she had one job to which she was especially suited: holding back waves of enemies.

She heaved her sword with her shoulder, but the cutting arc it made was wider than it should have been. Jyn stepped back just in time to avoid it, and she considered taking out Zee right this moment, but a longsword’s reach was not to be underestimated.

Zee stepped forward and cut once more, forcing Jyn to jump back even farther—but Zee stepped forward and cut even more! They were sliding across the arena floor like a grapevine, and Jyn simply didn’t have the reach to land a hit.

So she tapped the longsword away, and slashed at Zee—who ducked out of the way, impossibly close to the ground. She allowed her longsword to guide her hands as it made a full circle, and when she looked up to a surprised Jyn, she slashed up once more!

This was the one and only beholden technique that longsword-wielders trained for: momentum control. As the ones holding back the horde, the moment their sword stopped was the moment they died, and among the fellows of the Company, it was Zee who handled her sword best.

Strength, endurance, and finesse—these were the qualities that awed those who saw her, and inspired others to blaze a path with their very own longsword.

Ah, but for a one-on-one duel, it wasn’t really that amazing.

Jyn just had to wait for the perfect moment step in. Once the Zee’s sword tip flew past her face, she propelled herself forward into a blind spot. Her Close-Combat Proficiency kicked in.

She used Zee’s momentum against herself.

The Hunter found herself in the zone one moment, and spinning on the wrong axis the next. She hit the floor, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Then there was such a diminutive sword pointed at her.

Ah, well, it was fun.

Perhaps…perhaps this Knight was truly what she believed herself to be.

The crowd cheered as Jyn helped her up.