You Liked Me, Didn't You? – Kara's Savage Reversal
"You liked me, didn't you?"
Terna from the south reacted first. The corners of his mouth, which had been curved in a relaxed smile, began to twitch. 'Are these guys insane...?' He seemed like the sly type who wouldn't get riled up easily, but in truth, he was the prideful southern prince more than anyone. He hated sweating, but he couldn't tolerate being looked down on even more. Terna gripped the hilt of his wooden sword tightly, struggling to maintain his smile, but he couldn't hide the vein bulging on his forehead.
Rainer from the west didn't even try to hide his rage. Having endured all sorts of humiliations behind my massive back since morning, his face was beet red as he ground his teeth. "Those... those arrogant country bumpkins think they can treat me like a pushover?! I'm the eldest son of the Roeder Marquis family!"
The tip of Rainer's wooden sword trembled faintly with fury. He might have been scared of me, but he was confident he wasn't someone to be dismissed by someone on his level like Kairun—or a woman, for that matter.
And Violetta from the east. Her eyes, usually rational and cool, sharpened in an instant. She irritably swept back her long straight hair and glared at Kara and Kairun. "The match is already decided...? You can't calculate it like that. There's a limit to ignoring the east."
Her pride was clearly wounded by being dismissed. The representatives from each faction surrounded the center of the training ground, their gazes turning murderous.
But.
'Grr...!' Professor Sword was the only one grinning, covering his mouth with one hand. 'These kids... they sure know how to pick the perfect lines to score points!' That fighting spirit proving their confidence wasn't arrogance. Compared to the scheming parasites who overthought stamina management, he found those crazy northern chicks who drew their weapons without a second thought—screaming "I'll rip you all apart"—utterly lovable.
He was dying to shout "North! Bonus points +10!" and shower them with scores right then. But as a swordsmanship professor at the Eterna Imperial Academy, no matter how eccentric he was, he couldn't just hand out points based on his mood. Professor Sword swallowed his booming laugh and pinched his sturdy thigh hard.
"Ahem! Right. That's the spirit expected from the grand duke's bloodline—and warriors of the... no, the snowfields."
Professor Sword cleared his throat, forcibly regaining his composure, and stepped back. "Good! Let's see if that arrogant talk comes from skill or just bluff! The rest of you, watch closely—that survivor will be your next opponent!"
With Professor Sword's declaration, the air in the training ground froze. In the center, under the piercing stares from the other factions.
"I won't hold back. For the honor of Sessk, who taught me the sword."
"If you get hurt, the young lord will be disappointed—sure you're okay?"
The late afternoon sun pierced through the training ground's domed ceiling, slanting down on the two facing off in the center. Kairun and Kara's bloody duel was about to begin.
"The preliminary rules are simple." Sword approached between them, his single eye gleaming with excitement, hand on his hip. "We follow the Sabre Style, allowing thrusts and cuts anywhere. First valid hit from head to toe scores a point. First to 15 wins! Rounds are 3 minutes each, total of 3 rounds. Questions?"
"None."
"Let's begin."
Kairun and Kara answered curtly, eyes never breaking contact. Sword stepped back with a satisfied smile. "Good. Take your stances."
At his words, Kairun's body moved with mechanical precision. Shhrrk—. Legs spread wide, just as he'd learned through bone-grinding pain from Sessk, the knight of the Northgard Grand Duke and his swordmaster. Knees slightly bent, center of gravity perfectly lowered. He raised the ebony training wooden sword diagonally forward. Optimized for minimizing steps and scoring in the shortest time—a perfect fencing stance. Right toes pointed straight at his opponent, left foot bracing sideways, ready to spring like a coiled spring.
Kairun's red eyes coldly scanned Kara's body.
In contrast, Kara's stance across from him was oddly mismatched. She'd drilled the Sabre Style rules and imperial duel format with me under Izen until her ears bled. But she took none of the standardized poses refined over centuries.
Thud. Kara put her weight on her left leg, standing bow-legged. She casually slung the heavy training wooden sword over her right shoulder. The tip pointed lazily skyward, her guard completely open. Even Elysia would call it full of openings—a sloppy, lazy posture.
Murmurs erupted from the other faction students watching breathlessly from the edges. "Why's that girl standing like that? Even a back-alley mercenary wouldn't."
"Her guard's wide open? If Young Lord Kairun thrusts, she has no room to dodge."
"All talk earlier, but she doesn't even know fencing basics—a true barbarian."
Rainer from the west sneered, tearing into Kara's sloppy stance. "Quiet down. You're being disruptive."
Violetta snapped at him, and Rainer glared back with dagger eyes.
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes slightly as I sharply observed Kara and Kairun. 'Stance-wise, Kairun has the overwhelming edge.'
The empire's swordsmanship, especially the academy's score-focused Sabre Style, boasted optimal efficiency forged from centuries of knights' blood and sweat. No wasted steps. Shortest thrust distance. Recovery to block counters. No matter how excellent Kara's erratic, feral movements, she'd lose timing to this orthodox outboxing style she'd never faced.
'In speed and efficiency, Kairun dominates the first three exchanges for sure. His sword will pierce her defense first.'
"Uh... Barg, student." A young instructor standing far off glanced nervously at me and asked in a timid voice. "Who do you think will win? Young Lord Kairun from the Northgard bloodline looks much more solid in basics..."
I didn't even look at him, just snorted a laugh in response. Keeping my eyes fixed on the center, I muttered inwardly. 'Of course, only the first three points—early game only. Kara won't lose in the end.'
Kara was in early pregnancy now. Instinctively protecting Yeppe in her belly, she'd unconsciously seal off risky leaps or harsh spins. But.
'Even in the original story, early-enrollment Kairun couldn't beat Kara's power.'
Let alone now—Kara was far stronger, faster, and more mentally complete than in the original. Above all.
My wife grew up rolling in snowfields with me every day, clashing swords in brutal spars. Our fights had no scores. Swing meant broken bones and blood until one dropped. She was a true warrior forged in duels where no fragile greenhouse flower surviving by textbook rules could last.
Professor Sword raised his right hand high. The other students and instructors held their breath.
"Ugh... who to root for? Young lord? Or Kara?"
Only Elysia fidgeted, clutching her hands tightly.
"Allez!"
His hand slashed down sharply.
Tang—! A sharp kick off the ground, and Kairun shot forward. Speed so immense you'd lose him if not watching closely. His wooden sword traced a perfect straight line, minimizing air resistance.
Kara casually lowered her shoulder-slung sword to defend—but.
Thwack—! A crisp hit rang out. Kairun's thrust was half a beat faster. His tip lightly and precisely struck Kara's left shoulder guard.
Professor Sword raised his hand instantly. "Kairun, 1 point!"
"Ooooh!"
Exclamations burst from the other faction students.
"See? That's the north?"
"No wasted motion! She couldn't even react properly!"
The next two exchanges followed. "Allez!" Thwack—! "Kairun, 2 points!" "Allez!" Tap, thwack—! "3-0! Northgard lord leads!"
Kara, who'd conceded three straight, stepped back two paces, slinging her wooden sword over her shoulder again and stopping. The training ground boiled over.
"As expected of grand duke blood. His steps are near-perfect efficiency. No way that barbarian woman can block those thrusts with her reaction speed." Violetta adjusted her glasses, certain of Kairun's victory.
Kairun, having scored consecutively, wiped sweat from his chin and breathed heavily. 'It works!' His heart pounded hotly. 'I know Kara's strength and reflexes are beast-level. But this isn't northern snowfields—it's a flat training ground.'
Confidence surged. 'With textbook steps and shortest thrusts, even Kara can't match my speed. At this rate, 15 points first is a breeze!' It felt like his pride, crushed by the overwhelming might of Barg and Kara before enrollment, was reviving.
"What're you doing? Continue." Professor Sword prodded Kara, who was catching her breath.
"Just a sec. Need to breathe."
Far from panicked after three straight losses, Kara's eyes sparkled like a kid finding a fun toy, a leisurely smile on her face.
'Oh. Kairun's in trouble.' That look. Familiar. The eyes she had in our first spar. 'After that look, I got beat by Kara every day...'
Kara lightly rolled her ankles and readjusted her grip. Then, just before the next "Allez"—in the hushed moment as the training ground held its breath for etiquette.
Kara suddenly spoke in a very low voice. "Young lord."
"......?"
Kairun's eyes wavered, sword tip still aimed.
"I heard from Barg, but..." Kara licked her lips slightly, flashing her signature seductive yet mischievous smile. "You liked me, didn't you?"
"......!"
"For about... exactly two hours?"
His poker face shattered. Kairun's pale face flushed crimson in an instant. From his neck to his ears—like he'd been burned.
"Wh-what...! S-suddenly spouting nonsense like that with everyone watching...!"
Kairun stammered in panic, his sword tip quivering faintly. That borderlands glimpse of Kara's back. The innocent, black-history two hours of love at first sight when his heart nearly burst.
'Barg, you spilled it?!'
Just as Kara's psychological warfare landed, Professor Sword's call split the moment. "Allez!"
"Urk...!"
Kairun bit down hard to shake off the shame, rallying his mind. To steady his shaken heart, he lunged first with his most confident textbook step. Target: Kara's right shoulder. Same trajectory. Same timing as before.
But this time was different.
'Not dodging?'
Kairun met Kara's eyes just before his tip connected. Still beautiful blue eyes... but they whispered you're in deep shit now.
Unlike the prior three, Kara didn't evade or retreat. Instead, she swung her shoulder-slung wooden sword upward like a baseball bat—from low to high, savagely.
Kwaaaang—!!
A crisp percussion boomed across the entire training ground. Even with the grip muting vibrations, the emphasized impact rang like a struck instrument.
"Kuh...!"
Painful groan escaped Kairun. His orthodox thrust trajectory was perfect. But against brute force twisting the path itself, technique meant nothing.
The instant Kara's sword smashed the base of his blade, a horrific shock hit Kairun's hands. His grip loosened; the sword nearly flew skyward. His upper body, fully committed forward, collapsed helplessly mid-air.
Kara wouldn't miss that dizzying opening. Using the swing's recoil, she spun once—and her wooden sword heavily smashed Kairun's exposed left shoulder guard.
Paak—!
"Guhk...!"
Kairun couldn't withstand the impact and dropped to one knee. Even swallowing was audible. Rainer, inwardly cursing Kara, staggered back. Terna let out a hollow laugh. Violetta glanced between me and Kara.
Only Professor Sword excitedly raised his hand. "Kara, 1 point! 3-1!"
Kairun shook his numb wrist and struggled to his feet. "Hah, hah... Dirty... pulling psychological tricks mid-duel..."
He bit his lip in injustice. But Kara slung her wooden sword back over her shoulder with her signature bold, mischievous grin. "Lured you into complacency and hit with some real force to test. You held on without dropping it—nice grip strength, young lord. I'm impressed."
Praising to confirm the heavy damage from that blow. From then on, the training ground's flow completely reversed.