Zeke's Sword (1)
Next day.
Cool eyes. An impassive face devoid of any expression.
'P-please... kill me...'
Zeke was once again surrounded by maids from the crack of dawn, enduring their dress-up game like some plaything.
It was because of his morning appointment with Serena—the Yohayden maids had mobilized en masse, dragging themselves out of bed upon hearing the news.
"Zeke-nim. Today's concept is the cold capital man."
"Definitely more this vibe than the entrance ceremony outfit."
"Winter cool tone, maybe?"
What the hell is that? What does that even mean?
Of course, to Zeke's eyes, it was far cleaner than the ridiculous clown costume from last time.
Like a refined take on his usual military uniform: black trench coat, white shirt, black tie.
But they hadn't forsaken the dangling gold chains this time either.
"This is annoying."
With a bit more skill honed from that painful prior experience, Zeke eyed the chains in silent protest.
The maids, however, pretended not to notice.
"Hmm, then the face too... shall we match it to this feel?"
"Hair half-down, then. It'll spark curiosity—like, 'I wonder what this guy's like at the academy?'"
"Hehehe. My motivation's surging! Nothing more rewarding than this!"
"This is annoying."
His second, more emphatic try. Still utterly ignored.
Hello? Can't you hear me at all?
Zeke finally abandoned his timid rebellion. He went limp, entrusting his body to them like a corpse adrift on water, utterly thoughtless and desireless. Only after an hour did he finally escape their clutches.
Thud.
Once the maids left, Zeke collapsed into the dressing room's rocking chair.
Hah... burned out white-hot.
His energy was already drained before even stepping outside.
It even reminded him of the torment from that fake Demon King's subordinate, the succubus "Chok."
Did all the men in this world go through this? Spending over an hour on daily primping? He felt genuine respect. For real.
Rofan male leads probably had it even worse. It was an unimaginably grueling extreme profession.
Knock knock—
"Instructor, are you ready?"
"Yeah. Heading out soon."
At Serena's call from beyond the door, Zeke rose from his seat.
He habitually reached to slick back his hair but stopped, recalling the labor invested in it.
Truly a hassle beyond words.
Zeke stepped out onto the academy street with Serena.
Serena had donned an even more glamorous dress than at the entrance ceremony.
Yet despite dressing so prettily, she moved today like a stiff wooden doll.
Wondering what was up this time, Zeke figured it was fallout from yesterday.
Hugged her tight to comfort her yesterday, but she probably felt embarrassed thinking back on it. Wasn't a big deal, though.
Sure, it was a soldier's pay.
Even if they'd taken every last coin, it was probably just a sparrow's tear compared to a Yohayden duke's daughter allowance.
And she'd whined like a Monday morning office worker dreading work.
She must've realized after retreating to her room that she'd overreacted to something so trivial.
I get it. I get it. Totally understand. Getting all emotional at dawn, doing something out of character, then kicking the blankets in regret. Been there.
Imagining Serena kicking her blankets at dawn brought a smirk to his lips.
"Serena."
"Y-yes?!"
She startled at Zeke's call, yelping in response.
"Let's finish our business first, then sightsee."
"Y-yes. L-let's do that."
It seemed Serena needed more time to shake off her embarrassment.
*
Sip... hmm... Oh. My. What is this? Seriously, what? Heavens. How does he get hotter every day...
Glance, glance.
Serena stole sidelong looks at Zeke, her mind wandering to thoughts unbecoming a duke's daughter.
She'd thought herself immune to Zeke's dressed-up looks after the entrance ceremony fiasco.
Secret: Even when he'd fainted that day, she'd sat by his bed, staring unblinkingly at his face for hours, memorizing every feature.
Seeing faint stubble, she'd even shaved him herself.
The fate of that shaved stubble? Also a secret.
But today... this defied explanation, even by "insane."
Her type had always been fierce eyes with a cold aura, like a bad boy vibe.
The entrance ceremony look had played up a warmer, contrasting charm.
Today maximized his strengths.
Noble like a northern wolf, yet coldly restrained, not wild.
His fierce eyes sharpened further, constricting hearts with a mere glance.
His unusually shadowed gaze lent him an air of intellectual melancholy.
This man... what happens when he hits the academy?
Gulp.
The shock erased yesterday's tearful embarrassment in one go.
This was trouble. Definitely.
Kids would surely pick his elective just from seeing his face in demo class, mesmerized.
Should I slap a paper bag over his head? Cut holes for eyes, nose, mouth...?
Drool pooled faintly in Serena's mouth.
Sip. But he doesn't seem in a great mood today? Well, yeah, yesterday that... that female general...
Now able to read Zeke's moods even behind that blank face, Serena recalled his confession from yesterday.
Grind.
Her teeth ground together.
That faceless female general.
Of course, she empathized—barely—with how agonizing it must've been watching Zeke like this for so long.
He wouldn't show interest despite liking her, given his personality.
Then suddenly retiring? She'd panicked.
No choice but to abuse her superior rank and force it out of him.
Serena understood her feelings... just a tiny, tiny bit? But that method was the worst of the worst.
No. Don't think about it. That woman. If I meet her later, then. I'll collect that debt.
Serena eyed his face again.
Sip. He looks so exhausted...
Their time together had been intense, but focused on study—no real fun shared.
Out together for once, she wanted him to enjoy it.
Pondering how, she recalled what got the biggest reaction from him in the carriage: that.
Hmm. A bit materialistic, but...
"I-Instructor."
"Hm?"
"H-here, take this."
Like a schoolgirl handing over a love letter, Serena pulled a heavy pouch from her side bag.
Jingle. Coins clinked inside.
"This is..."
N-no way.
His body trembled.
"You've been stuck at the mansion without chances to spend, but I did promise reward for saving my life."
"...No need."
The moment Serena's gleaming wealth unveiled itself from its veil.
Unlike his reluctant refusal in the carriage, he desperately wanted it now.
She was being considerate after his shameful confession yesterday—refusing felt against the warrior's code.
Yet his damn body puffed up with pointless pride.
You idiot body! Just take it, please! Take it! Why refuse now!
Serena noticed Zeke's mouth saying no while his eyes bored hungrily into the pouch. Adorable. She smirked and spoke.
Truly a high-maintenance man.
"Instructor. House Yohayden never takes favors lightly."
"Is that so."
"Yes. Please don't treat the life you saved so lightly."
"...I see."
"This is just payment. So don't refuse."
"...If you put it that way..."
Under her repeated pleas, his body feigned reluctance and extended a hand, taking the pouch.
A peek inside: brimming gold and silver coins, mouth barely closing.
Wha—what. This. For real? Serena!!!!
Gulp. Saliva swallowed.
Seeing Zeke, Serena added,
"Ah, still, this feels too meager. Compared to the grace I received and what you told me yesterday, my repayment might be too small."
"N-no, it's fine."
"While you're with House Yohayden, I'll give this much monthly."
"No... ngh... Th-thanks... really."
Monthly, even! Salary declaration! Favorability for Serena shattered the ceiling.
Zeke's eyes sparkled.
His mind bloomed a field of blue violets.
Serena lounged on a throne amid them, bored smile playing.
In fantasy, Zeke knelt, kissing her instep.
Rotten body, acting all proud. Huh? Too much money even for you to refuse?
Trembling with emotion, Zeke pocketed the coins.
Just one pouch in his chest felt like wearing bulletproof armor—security on another level.
No joke; for a fake Demon King boss, he'd catch it again once if Serena asked.
Having received this much, priority shifted from his original errand.
* * *
Clang! Clang! Kaang! Kang! Klang!
The place Zeke led Serena was the weapon district.
Sharp hammering pierced the ears from all sides.
Due to the noise, this outlying street—far from the academy—gathered the empire's top smiths.
Zeke felt his heart quicken amid the din.
Thump. Thump. Thu... fizzle.
But the pulse rose slowly, then drooped limply like a bowed man's head.
"Tch, skills aren't that great."
"R-really?"
At Zeke's level, he could gauge a smith's skill from hammer sounds alone.
With the empire lording over neighbors, weapon tech hadn't advanced much.
"Gotta pick the least bad one here and go in..."
"Hmm. Looking for a sword for class demos?"
"No."
Zeke shook his head, dissatisfied.
"Then...?"
"Serena, came to forge your sword."
"!"
Rapier.
He had to personally select Serena's future blade. Mismatched as it was, a standard rapier would still burden her.
She needed perfect balance of weight, hardness, strength.
Something between rapier and smallsword.
He'd planned his errand first, but wanted to repay her kindness promptly.
Stroking his chin, he scanned shops meticulously—but none met his eye.
Hmm. Was gonna settle for decent hammering, but nothing worthwhile.
"These the only smithies here?"
"Uh... probably... Ah! Next to old town used to be a weapon street too. Not all moved here, so some linger."
Lamieli Academy had expanded commerce, contracting top talents to centralize.
"But not coming means no academy contract... skills probably worse."
"Not necessarily skill. Let's check there. This area's no good."
"No need to go that far just for my sword!"
Zeke turned to Serena.
"Serena. I broke your sword."
"Ugh..."
"I can roughly tell how long you held it, how you trained."
"Ughhh..."
"So I'll take responsibility."
Boom!
Serena felt something explode in her head.