Trash
“Sister?”
Early in the morning, Alois—the third son, in the midst of training—spotted his sister kneeling alone in the garden.
How breathtakingly beautiful she is.
Even from behind, she exuded elegance, her red hair radiating a nobility unlike their own. Alois truly loved his sister with all his heart. Just taking a step toward her set his pulse racing.
If the roses were in bloom, the mood would’ve been perfect.
Grinning slyly, he approached on light feet.
“Sister, slacking off this early in the morning?”
He whispered softly, ensuring no one else could overhear their secret rendezvous.
But Lianna kept her head bowed in silence.
Hm?
There, before her, bloomed a single lilac. The moment he saw it, Alois frowned and let out a sigh.
“What the hell are the gardeners doing?”
He could guess why she was there, his voice laced with irritation.
“Sister, I’ll tell the gardeners to manage it properly. No need to worry so mu—”
“Alois.”
He instinctively stepped back. An inexplicable chill in her voice made him flinch in fear for a split second.
“Y-yes? Sister? What’s wrong?”
“This flower is one I grew.”
“……You grew it, Sister?”
“Yes. So don’t touch it carelessly.”
“Ah, got it.”
Even as he replied, Alois tilted his head in confusion. The Lianna he knew would never cultivate something like a lilac—let alone plant it in the family garden.
“Fuu.”
Lianna rose slowly and turned.
“I need to go train.”
As she brushed past him, he caught sight of her reddened eyes. A shock like lightning to the crown of his head made every hair on his body stand on end.
Sister… cried?
It was the first time he’d ever seen such a thing. The impact was so profound he questioned if it was really her.
“Huh.”
Alois couldn’t help but grin ear to ear and hurriedly covered his mouth.
Exhilaration surged through him. Tears from his sister—the unbreakable fortress. That image of her drowning in sorrow, tormented… it delivered a thrilling pleasure he’d never known.
Because of Isaac?
Alois quickly pieced it together. That lilac was probably connected to him too.
I can ask the gardener later.
But that wasn’t important now. He hurried after her with quick steps, feigning obliviousness.
“Sister, have you decided on your next marriage partner?”
Lianna halted abruptly. Her icy gaze held a subtle undercurrent of murderous intent and rage.
As I thought.
Alois suppressed the swelling in his lower body and flashed a friendly smile.
“Dragging out the divorce isn’t ideal. Of course, remarrying too quickly wouldn’t look great either—”
He prodded deliberately. It was the first time he’d seen her react so emotionally.
Alois was curious what she’d do next.
“Still, someone like you has suitors lining up. Just forget Isaac.”
No grounds for outright anger. Would she crumble into sadness? Flee, insisting she didn’t want to hear it?
“He was unfit from the start. Isn’t divorcing now the best for him too?”
This was sincere. Had Isaac not initiated the divorce, he’d have met a grim fate. The patriarch had permitted her pregnancy, after all.
Sister bearing that bastard’s child—unthinkable.
Alois had even plotted to drop the chandelier on him. It failed, but Isaac leaving on his own worked out better.
“Honestly, a commoner enduring in our family must’ve been—”
“Alois.”
Her voice flat, devoid of inflection. She’d reverted to her usual expression.
Disappointed inwardly, Lianna made a calm proposal.
“Spar with me.”
“……Pardon?”
“Morning training. Let’s spar. It’s been a while since we last did.”
“……”
“I’ll check how much you’ve improved.”
“W-wait a second, Sister.”
A flustered Alois called after her. Sparring now could spell disaster. He’d never imagined she’d vent her anger this way and tried to speak up.
But Lianna had already drawn her crimson greatsword, Rag Nabell.
“Follow me, Alois.”
Red energy poured from her entire body—the Helmont-exclusive sword aura known as Red Aura. It enveloped her like armor, her long hair rippling like waves in a dance.
“……”
Alois, who’d crossed the line in his excitement, could only grimace as he grabbed his sword and headed to the training grounds.
* * *
That damn drinking nun’s gonna kill me.
Clutching his throbbing head, Isaac dragged himself to the training yard. The crisp northern morning air pierced his lungs, finally easing the remnants of last night’s poisoned booze.
“Sir Isaac, are you alright?”
Jonathan approached with a worried look. He could tell from Isaac’s expression that something was off.
“I’m fine. More importantly, Jonathan—how did I get back to my room yesterday?”
No joke; he genuinely couldn’t remember. He’d been deep in heated debate on spearmanship with the Kaldias father-daughter duo, the mood excellent.
But as he kept downing the drinks Anna poured, his memory cut out at some point.
“You really startled me yesterday. Lady Silberna had to support you back to the barracks. I waited the whole time, worried sick.”
“……Sorry.”
He slapped his forehead and sighed. The exhale still reeked of alcohol, wrinkling his nose.
Got carried away reminiscing about those benders with my Great Master.
Still, Isaac had been thrilled. Uldiran Kaldias was a hero he’d never met in his past life. The great general who held out for a month against the transcendent invasion without kingdom support.
Drinking with him had hyped Isaac more than expected.
“Gotta apologize to Silberna too.”
He planned to ask if he’d said anything stupid.
“Um, Sir Isaac.”
“Hm?”
“This might be overstepping… you might think I’m out of line.”
Jonathan fidgeted, glancing around nervously before bowing with hands clasped.
“Aren’t you still Lady Lianna’s husband? So, uh, minimizing contact with other women would be… for the best.”
“……Yeah.”
“I’m sorry! Truly sorry for speaking out of turn!”
Isaac grabbed his shoulders to stop him from prostrating.
“No, you’re right.”
“Th-thank you!”
Divorce was in the works, but not finalized. And only Helmont direct kin and a few cooks knew, so it was sound advice.
He bittersweetly caressed the ring on his left ring finger and steered the topic elsewhere.
“You joining our training, Jonathan? I heard knights and guards get thrown into duty right away.”
Unlike the promising nobles needing basics checked due to their influx, their aides were all elites straight to wall duty.
“No, sir. Afternoon shift for me, so I came to assist you. And squeeze in personal training.”
Diligent and pure-hearted. As Isaac patted his shoulder with an encouraging word amid his bright, country-boy smile—
“Why me?!”
A voice thick with fury echoed from the training yard.
The cluster of nobles gathered for morning training. One stepped forward, yelling at the instructor.
“You mocking House Drake Moore? Think handling a spear makes you special?!”
“That’s not it.”
Drake Moore?
A renowned sword family, though far below Helmont in prestige. Still not to be dismissed lightly.
“We didn’t dispatch you nobles just for wall duty. Escorts outside, scouting, village support—our roles are varied.”
Facing green nobles, the instructor stayed composed despite the near-insubordination.
“So? What then? Who said we won’t? We refuse!”
“……”
“Treating us like idiots with this basic training pisses me off. I held back yesterday, but today it’s the same crap?!”
Subtle agreement rippled among the dispatched nobles.
“You failed to clear the beast horde properly, that’s why we’re here. Tormenting us over your incompetence? Can’t even propose a solution?!”
The mood soured dangerously. Nobles or not, they’d crossed the line.
But with the others backing the Drake Moore fool, no one dared act. One misstep could alienate all the influential houses.
“Ha!”
A short woman scoffed, snatching her spear and striding into the yard.
Silberna Kaldias. She stood before the Drake Moore noble with a fierce, competitive grin.
“Name?”
“Meladic Drake Moore.”
Meladic slyly rested a hand on his sword hilt. Silberna’s lip twitched.
“Got some sense, huh? Draw it. I’ll check if you’ve got the skill to survive wall duty.”
This was the northern way. The uproar had foreshadowed this exact outcome.
All eyes locked on the pair.
“Jonathan, watch Silberna’s spearmanship closely. It’ll help a lot.”
“I use a greatsword, though?”
“Don’t talk nonsense—watch.”
“Yes, sir!”
Jonathan saluted, eyes wide as he observed the spar.
Takes me back.
Isaac crossed his arms with a faint smile.
In his past life, he’d first met Silberna years later—after the transcendent invasion crumbled the Mallidan Wall. She’d survived alone amid the sacrifices, abandoned her name to live as Kaldias, until his Great Master brought her.
Shocked the hell out of me.
Her spearmanship had been a revelation, like glimpsing a new world. He’d trailed her for ages, cane in hand, peppering her with questions.
“Not hyping her great spearmanship for nothing.”
“Indeed!”
Adding that for Jonathan, Isaac smiled, anticipating a fine show after so long.
The spar began.
Meladic lasted only five exchanges before falling on his ass, sword flying from his grip.
Cheers erupted from the soldiers around.
“As expected of the lady! The best!”
“Incredible! Perfect spearwork!”
“Great Kaldias!”
The dispatched nobles’ morale shattered instantly, glares of resentment turning on Meladic.
Jonathan raved too.
“A-amazing! That’s Kaldias spearmanship!”
As Jonathan whooped excitedly, Isaac gaped in denial.
“No……”
“Pardon?”
“No, I said no……”
“W-what do you mean?”
To the bewildered Jonathan’s question, Isaac—uncharacteristically flustered—blurted his honest thought.
“No! That’s not it! That was just… trash right now?!”
What the hell had he just witnessed? That? That was supposed to be Silberna’s spear?
His bewildered outburst rang out far.
And.
“What?”
Unfortunately, the biting northern wind carried his voice straight to Silberna’s ear.