The Princess's Resolve
More than a week had already passed since I began training alongside the princess.
Honestly, joining her in those drills did not seem all that bad. For one thing, we now shared a common ground we could both relate to—the pure agony of working out. Talking about it had noticeably closed the distance between us. Granted, laughing and complaining about how brutal the day’s training had been felt no different from soldiers grousing after a hard day of drills.
And the princess had succeeded at physical enhancement. Even I, a Saintess, had yet to manage that. If I had not already possessed close-combat capabilities, I might have held a serious grudge against the Goddess.
At any rate, once the princess achieved physical enhancement, Andreus stepped up the intensity of the training. That was when we realized something: her physical enhancement was fundamentally different from the ordinary kind.
“…It’s still not working.”
The princess slumped to the floor, head hanging low. Training was not over, yet Andreus said nothing. The atmosphere shifted into an unspoken break. I brought over two water bottles and handed one to her. She bowed her head in thanks and began sipping slowly. I took a sip myself, then looked at Andreus.
“Andreus. Have you ever seen a case like the princess’s?”
“Unfortunately, I have not. A physical enhancement that so dramatically boosts only speed is a first even for me.”
Normally, physical enhancement raised every physical ability to varying degrees, but the differences were never this extreme. The princess’s results, however, were bizarrely concentrated on speed alone. We had tried every method imaginable to correct it… yet one look at her sitting dejectedly on the ground told the whole story.
In the end, was she destined to be a high-agility character who could heal? On the surface that did not sound terrible. Not terrible. But her current abilities were far too middling. She could use most cleric skills, yet nothing about them felt outstanding—below average, really. And while her agility was high, she had virtually no offensive power. If a character like that had existed in a game, I would have abandoned her on the spot and picked someone else.
Still, I did not want to give up on raising the princess so easily. During the demonkin ambush, the princess dies. And I wanted to stop that. It was not simply because having more of the emperor’s direct descendants around was convenient. I had grown fond of her. I did not want her to die. I never wanted to feel again what I had felt when Isabella died. If the princess perished, I suspected the pain would be even worse.
If she could gain the ability to protect herself, even a little, would that not secure her safety that much more? The thought struck me suddenly. And so Andreus’s near-coercive suggestion had naturally turned into my voluntary participation—so I could encourage her from the sidelines and keep her from giving up.
And this was exactly that moment.
“Hang in there. Of course you’re going to feel impatient. But they say exercise only yields results if you stick with it consistently, right? Physical enhancement should be the same.”
The Bombardment Fairy says you seem to have no talent for encouragement.
Shut up. I wasn’t finished talking yet.
“You’re already enduring Andreus’s brutal training, aren’t you? So your efforts will definitely be rewarded. And if they aren’t, I’ll speak to the Goddess myself and make sure you get your due.”
As I said it, I thumped my chest like a proper man. The princess lifted her head and looked at me.
“…Thank you.”
She gave a weak smile and slowly rose to her feet.
“I think I’ve rested enough. Can we train a little longer?”
…Is she going to be all right?
Late at night.
The Empire’s princess, Chartia Aclessia, sat crouched in the Saintess’s private training grounds. She knew. It had only been a week. In that single week she had learned several ways to use divine power and, though imperfectly, could even perform physical enhancement. Yet she still felt restless.
The reason was obvious. During training she kept comparing herself to the Saintess.
“…She was incredible.”
The princess had witnessed it by chance—the sparring match between the Holy Knight Commander and the Saintess. Compared to the training she herself was doing, it was on an entirely different level. They swung their weapons at each other with full force. No—that could not even be called sparring. To belittle a scene where blood flew and bones might break by calling it a mere spar was an insult. It was a blood match. A clash of fighting spirits so overwhelming that merely watching it crushed you.
She had learned that the person she admired stood far higher than she had ever imagined. And from her chest, an odd emotion that was not admiration began to stir. That was when it started—comparing herself to the Saintess, and feeling this impatience.
“…Why am I like this?”
“Is something troubling you?”
Startled by the sudden voice behind her, she whirled around. The owner of the voice was none other than—
“Sir Andreus?”
“You may simply call me Andreus.”
With that, Andreus offered a good-natured smile.
“May I sit beside you for a moment?”
“Ah, of course.”
The instant she spoke, Andreus plopped down right next to her and opened his mouth.
“You’re feeling impatient, aren’t you?”
“…Yes. Even though it’s only been a week. I know it’s strange for me to feel this way. But…”
“Comparing yourself to the Saintess naturally makes you restless, does it not?”
“H-How did you know?!”
Andreus chuckled.
“I have had a similar experience myself.”
She found it hard to believe. The princess had seen Andreus’s strength in that spar. He had completely dominated the Saintess throughout, showing the true face of the strongest Holy Knight in history. That such a powerhouse had gone through something like hers? Unbelievable. As if sensing her disbelief, Andreus began to recount his story naturally.
“I once had a friend I admired. Yet the gap between our skills was far too great. No matter how hard I trained, I never felt I could reach him, so impatience came naturally. I suspect Your Highness is in a similar position.”
The princess’s head nodded of its own accord—proof of how deeply she related. Andreus continued calmly.
“Before long I found myself disliking that friend. I had to admit it: I was jealous of his strength.”
So am I jealous too? The idea did not quite click for the princess. Still, having started listening, she decided to hear him out to the end and urged him on.
“How did you resolve it?”
“I discarded my admiration. I acknowledged the jealousy and cultivated a sense of rivalry. Then, vowing to use any means necessary, I challenged that friend to a spar.”
Nodding diligently as she listened, the princess suddenly doubted her ears. He did what?
“A-A spar?”
“Indeed. There is a saying that clashing weapons is far better than a thousand words, is there not?”
“I’m fairly certain no such saying exists.”
“In any case, I poured everything I had into it, and once I had, I felt refreshed. Then I declared: Someday I will surpass you.”
Despite having pointed out the nonexistent saying, the Holy Knight Commander’s shamelessness made her want to retort—but she gave up and simply asked what she was curious about.
“So what happened after that?”
“Having a rival, the impatience faded and only the drive to improve remained. I kept striving, and eventually I surpassed that friend. Our relationship continued as well.”
Andreus’s story ended there. Silence lingered over the training grounds for a while. The princess wordlessly chewed over his words.
…A spar. And if she used any means necessary…
“Thank you. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to give it a try.”
“An excellent mindset. They say children grow through fighting, do they not? Sparring will surely be a valuable experience for Your Highness.”
And I had been watching the entire thing.
The princess had suddenly stood up and done something, but at least Andreus seemed to have put out the immediate fire. Still, out of nowhere I was now scheduled for a spar with the princess. If I went all out without mercy and seriously injured her, what if the imperial family lodged a protest? But holding back and wounding her pride was a problem too. Why on earth had Andreus brought up sparring?
…Fine. I’ll leave the spar to future me. Who knows? Maybe the princess will think of the problems that could arise from sparring and change her mind. No need to borrow trouble ahead of time.
And exactly three days later.
“Saintess! I challenge you to a spar!”
The princess, dressed in an outfit that anyone could tell belonged to a thief character, issued her challenge to me.
It was a moment when I desperately wanted to blast my past self with a barrage of shells.