Winter of the Cold Rose (2)
Marc Visus, who had dragged me into the cafe, froze the moment we stepped through the entrance as if he had received some sort of shock.
Following his gaze, my eyes landed on Lilit Tistina, the young lady of the Tistina family who, until recently, had constantly trailed behind him.
And sitting across from her... was a handsome young man with distinct curly hair whom I had never met before.
Turning my gaze back to Marc, I saw him still staring blankly toward the table where Lilit and the man sat.
"...? Marc? Is something the matter?"
Only after I shook him, unable to watch any longer, did he finally snap out of it and reply.
"Uh... there are plenty of seats, so it doesn't matter where we sit, right?"
"I have no particular preference," I replied.
"R-Right. Then let's sit over there."
Saying so, Marc moved to a table that offered a clear view of Lilit Tistina's table but remained mostly out of her line of sight.
It was the perfect spot for spying on someone.
To make matters worse, he even crept stealthily to avoid catching Lilit's eye.
What is this? Why is he so conscious of her?
I could not help but find Marc's behavior strange.
If my memory served me right, he was not the type to care this much about a woman like Lilit Tistina.
They had seemed somewhat close at the beginning of the school year.
However, as academy life progressed and Marc drew more attention, with more people flocking to him, his attitude toward Lilit had grown increasingly distant.
And Lilit was supposed to be the one walking on eggshells around him, desperately trying to read his mood.
Thus, Marc Visus's current behavior could only look highly bizarre.
"This black tea looks acceptable. I shall have this. Marc, what about you?"
"...? Ah...! Right. I'll... yes, this coffee looks good."
He was still stealing glances at the table where Lilit sat.
He kept raising and lowering a magazine or newspaper to avoid getting caught, seemingly unaware that it only made him look more suspicious.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Lilit was so engrossed in the man sitting with her that she seemed completely oblivious to everything else.
She looked so enamored with the man beside her that her eyes practically dripped with honey.
I had chosen to come to the cafe with Marc to strengthen our camaraderie, but he was paying attention to something else entirely.
Spurred by curiosity, I decided to turn my gaze toward Lilit's table as well.
"Hey, Rofel, try this too. I had it last time and it was delicious. I think you'll like it."
"Really? Mmm... it really is delicious. By the way, the academy is truly something else. I thought about this when we went out last time, but there are so many luxurious shops around here. Back home, I'd have to take a carriage quite a distance just to eat desserts like this."
"By home, do you mean the Teufel estate? Hmm... Rofel? Could I visit your family home sometime?"
"Huh? My house? Well... as you know, it's out in the countryside, so there's nothing to see or do. It'll just be boring. I wouldn't really recommend it."
"Haha, it's fine. It's not like I have any other purpose in going there."
"To our estate? Well... if you're fine with that, I don't mind..."
"Oh, really? Then it's a promise? That I'll visit your home someday."
Rofel Teufel, the Teufel family.
Since nothing immediately came to mind upon hearing the name, he was likely from the countryside.
Actually... I feel like I have heard that name somewhere before.
But there is no need to pay it any mind. Given that his name has never caught my attention, let alone the academy's, he must be an insignificant man in terms of both ability and status.
At any rate, the two of them seemed far closer than I had expected. They sat pressed against each other, exchanging bright smiles like lovers as they conversed.
Could that man be the reason Lilit's interest in Marc had cooled recently?
Lilit's face now looked far brighter and happier than it ever did when she was with Marc, whom she supposedly liked.
What could make her so happy? Would a day ever come when I, who could only wear a blank expression both now and always, could make a face like that? It was a sudden thought, but Lilit looked so blissful that it naturally crossed my mind.
"Ah, wait a second..."
The man named Rofel spoke as he reached toward Lilit's face. He gently wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
"You have some cream on you."
Saying so, he licked the cream he had wiped away off his thumb.
Though it was my first time seeing him, the gesture was incredibly alluring and filled with a strange sensuality. To put it crudely, he was a playboy; to put it innocently, he was like a seductive beast born to bewitch women.
Seeing this, Lilit blushed and froze for a moment, but she soon wore a sly smile and giggled, wrapping her arms around his and leaning in close.
Rofel, seemingly flustered, tried to lean slightly in the opposite direction.
"Why? Do you hate it...?"
"No, it's not that... but doing this in a place with other people around is..."
"Why worry about that? And you don't hate it, right? Hehe..."
Lilit rested her face against Rofel's chest, lightly rubbing her cheek against him. Not stopping there, she placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers in a tight grip.
Watching this, Marc froze, unable to either drink from or set down the cup he was holding, as if he had received a massive shock.
One of his eyes twitched in discomfort, and I could hear the faint sound of him grinding his teeth.
Snapping back to his senses, he gulped down the rest of his coffee in one go.
"Sorry, Seraphina. This cafe isn't as good as I thought. If you don't mind, I'd like to leave. Would that be rude of me?"
Though the words themselves were polite, his tone was not. It was a demanding, overbearing tone that practically forced us to leave, as if he wanted to escape this place this very instant.
Well, I had no reason to linger in this cafe either. If anything, it was better if I could secure more time to train.
"I do not mind. Shall we return to the sparring grounds, then? I felt that our earlier exercise was somewhat lacking."
"...Ah, yeah. Actually... I felt like moving my body violently right about now."
Thus, Marc and I left the cafe shortly after entering and returned to the sparring grounds once more.
His arms trembled as if he were highly displeased, and I could still hear him grinding his teeth.
The reason was undoubtedly Lilit Tistina's behavior earlier.
Since he usually treated her coldly, it had seemed like Marc had no interest in Lilit, but that did not appear to be the case.
Perhaps he secretly fancied her, or had already considered her his possession.
Otherwise, his current display of intense discomfort could not be explained.
"Damn it... Damn it... That bitch...! How dare she reject my confession only to hang out with a guy like that...? Who... Who does she think I am?! Dammit... What is that bastard? Where did he even roll in from...?! Lilit was mine...! She was already practically in the palm of my hand...!"
He muttered, panting with rage.
He had whispered to himself so that others wouldn't hear, but with my sharp hearing, I caught every single word.
Hmm... It seems my guess was correct to some extent.
If what he said is true, does that mean Marc confessed to Lilit?
Yet, for some reason, she rejected his confession and is now seeing this other man.
Thinking of it that way, the pieces fall into place.
In that case, I cannot help but feel grateful to that man.
The Tistina family has long been associated with Marc Visus, making them the most critical target of our vigilance.
Since he has diverted the attention of the young lady—who was one of the key assets that could draw Marc to their side—it is a significant gain from the Serion family's perspective.
"Marc, are you well?"
"...Sorry, Seraphina. I suddenly feel a bit under the weather. I might not be able to control my strength properly in this spar. Will you understand?"
"I do not mind," I replied.
If anything, it was exactly what I wanted.
He always held back against me, claiming he couldn't bring himself to go all out against someone so far below his level.
Frankly, I found that attitude incredibly arrogant and irritating, but since it was an undeniable fact that he was strong, I had never argued.
However, if he was going to face me with sincerity, I would welcome it.
The stronger my opponent, the sharper I could forge my own blade.
And so, gripping my massive greatsword with both hands, I lunged once more toward Marc, who wielded his one-handed sword with unbelievable skill and power.
"Impressive, as expected..."
Regulus Serion, the current head of the Serion family and the commander of the Serion Knights, spoke as he sat by a window overlooking the sparring grounds.
He had been watching the spar between the academy's rising star, Marc Visus, and his daughter, Seraphina Serion.
Though Seraphina was somewhat lacking in talent, even he acknowledged her sheer skill.
Yet Marc Visus was unilaterally overwhelming her, even while holding back his strength.
"When we first met, I thought he was merely a lucky brat, but to think he possessed this much power."
During the terror incident, Regulus, who had been at the academy to suppress the dark mages, had viewed Marc Visus as nothing more than a common, run-of-the-mill brat.
Thus, after their first meeting, he had simply instructed his daughter to keep an eye on him and paid no further attention.
However, the Marc he met after the subsequent incident during the academy's midterm exams was different.
His strength, his technique—he had become a powerhouse who was comparable to active-duty knights, let alone his peers.
Regulus had gone through countless training sessions and battles, and he had learned to gauge the abilities of many different kinds of people.
And he could quickly discern how much of that skill was built through effort.
From his perspective, the effort visible in Marc's swordsmanship was only a tiny fraction.
Everything else, excluding effort, was pure talent.
Indeed, he appeared to be a man possessing an overwhelmingly massive amount of talent.
From then on, leaving the affairs of the knights to his vice-commander, he frequently visited the academy to watch Marc's growth.
"If it is him, he might be able to show me... the sword that my master once showed me...!"
If that overwhelming talent existed, then perhaps he could reach the end of the path—the sword he had glimpsed for a single moment in the past.
The peak that he had predicted neither he nor his daughter could ever achieve.
It was because he harbored the hope that Marc might be able to display a state of martial arts that reached the absolute pinnacle.
"...Yet... is the end of the sword... the pinnacle of martial arts... truly achievable only through talent...?"
Talent overwhelmed all else.
Even if one put in effort, they could never defeat someone who possessed both talent and effort.
Therefore, above all else, only talent remained.
He was a man who kept this fact in mind more than anyone, believing it to be the absolute truth.
Yet, despite his beliefs, he let out a bitter sigh and gazed out the window.