Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Wild First Princess
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1st Prince.
Kankalix Escarion.
A man who, even at a young age, displayed talents across the board, making him a strong contender for the next emperor.
Whether it was academics, swordsmanship, or magic.
The 1st Prince, Kankalix, showed talent in everything.
His gifts had revealed themselves by the tender age of just nine, marking him as someone with a bright future ahead.
'And even this prodigiously talented guy ends up falling head over heels for the heroine, losing his mind completely.'
First, he takes an interest in the countess lady's bold demeanor.
Then, he casually helps her out the second time, and by the third, the once-flawless prince finds himself needing her aid.
Thus, the 1st Prince Kankalix gradually falls for the heroine.
And right now.
With Ision Calrad listed as a candidate for the 1st Prince's exclusive knight.
Naturally, this gave Ision a massive headache.
He'd been working hard to become the lady's exclusive knight, not expecting to end up as a candidate for the 1st Prince.
This world was one from a romance fantasy novel.
From what Ision had experienced so far, the story followed an inevitable path.
He didn't remember every detail of the novel, but he knew the general flow.
Even while serving the lady, he'd unintentionally twisted the plot at times, but the overall direction remained the same.
So he vaguely assumed there was some inexorable, coercive force at play.
Naturally, he thought becoming the lady's exclusive knight was inevitable too.
"Ision, it's a given. Congratulations."
Airen, could you just shut up for once?
I didn't bust my ass to become some 1st Prince's exclusive knight.
Ision left the sparkling-eyed Airen behind and meekly followed the maids.
Once you're a candidate, becoming the exclusive knight is pretty much unavoidable.
So, all he had to do was show he wasn't up to par for the 1st Prince's side.
The 1st Prince himself wouldn't show up anyway.
At most, one of his retainers would come to check.
A few half-hearted sword swings, and they'd write him off as hopeless.
'Just take Airen and go already.'
The maids washed him clean and dressed him in luxurious clothes he'd never worn before.
Even his hair was perfectly styled.
Thanks to that, the mirror reflected a pretty decent-looking guy.
At this rate, he might even pass for a young noble somewhere.
"What the hell is this country bumpkin?"
Like hell.
He looked up, and hair that gleamed with pale silver undertones of faint gold caught the sunlight.
But the face beneath it radiated contempt for the world and overflowing arrogance.
The 1st Princess, Erje Escarion.
Why was she standing in front of Ision right now?
Two years older than him.
Unlike the emotionally reserved and cool-headed 1st Prince, she'd long been infamous for her wild, unruly ways, which had already ruled her out as a candidate for emperor.
The empire still clung to its male-dominant traditions.
A woman ascending the throne had never happened, so it was only natural for the 1st Prince to be the frontrunner.
But separately from that, the bond between the 1st Princess and the 1st Prince was tight.
Born as the frontrunner for emperor, everyone around the 1st Prince bowed their heads.
The emperor was busy, and even his mother treated him more like a future ruler than a child.
That was plenty to make a young boy feel isolated.
But the 1st Princess was different.
Wild and free-spirited, she didn't yet grasp concepts like emperor or status.
To her, he was just her little brother.
And that was enough.
That had been the 1st Prince's sole salvation.
Until the 1st Princess was killed by the heretics of the Council of the Apocalypse.
Afterward, the 1st Prince lost all emotion and blackened.
And now.
The cause of the 1st Prince's fall to darkness stood right in front of Ision.
A girl standing defiantly with her arms crossed over her short frame.
Erje Escarion.
Instead of looking at her, Ision turned to the knight beside her.
He was the one tasked with guarding and instructing the 1st Prince.
His face showed clear discomfort too.
This was an unexpected situation for him as well.
Yeah, what authority does a guard have to bring the 1st Princess here?
She probably just came because she wanted to.
"Country bumpkin, is it true you're really going to be my little brother's guard?"
Ision barely managed to smooth out his crumpling expression.
Why did she keep calling him a country bumpkin?
He looked like a city boy to anyone.
Ision didn't know what his face looked like after endless days of training under the blazing sun.
Plus, as befitting an exclusive knight candidate, his head was shaved clean.
Erje had only ever seen imperial knights, even among regular ones.
It wasn't strange for her to see him that way.
But that wasn't Ision's concern.
In the past, he'd never even laid eyes on Erje once.
She'd died before they ever crossed paths.
So today was their first meeting.
Thus, Ision's mind sorted it neatly.
The 1st Princess was a total non-factor.
"No. Nothing's been decided yet."
But she was still the 1st Princess.
A single word from her could ruin someone's life.
So he kept his manners in check.
"Nothing's been decided?"
Was the wording too hard?
Erje made a confused face, so the guard knight knelt down to her level.
"Your Highness Erje, Ision is still just a candidate. He hasn't been officially selected."
"What? That's it?"
Erje eyed Ision with clear dissatisfaction.
To her, he obviously didn't measure up to her brother.
"Fine. Then I'll check him out myself."
Her hand went to her waist.
Swordsmanship and training were mandatory in the imperial family.
Especially for Erje, who preferred swords over studies.
Unlike her brother, she had no need to study politics.
She'd long abandoned books for the blade.
Right now, her age and size advantage let her beat her little brother Kankalix.
She'd eventually fall behind his talent, but currently, she was a genius without peers her age.
'The whole world's full of geniuses, huh.'
And Ision had to survive among these geniuses.
Ision's gaze finally flicked to the guard knight.
His eyes held apology as he nodded.
Meaning, engage her.
She's only nine, and you're taking orders from her like this?
Well, brown-nosing was essential for exclusive knights.
That's why there were special classes for it.
More importantly, he caught the other implication in the knight's eyes.
A desire to see this arrogant princess get knocked down a peg before she caused bigger trouble.
And perfectly, the opponent was the top exclusive knight candidate.
A fitting match.
As a swordsman himself, he knew how precarious the young 1st Princess's state was.
In other words...
'Even if I go a bit overboard, it's fine.'
Of course, from the knight's perspective, he'd want a fair fight.
But Ision knew.
About the wild streak in this 1st Princess and the chaos it would unleash later.
He had no real reason to get involved, but since she'd stepped on his toes...
A little tough love wouldn't hurt.
"Come on, draw your sword!"
At Erje's urging, Ision reluctantly drew his own.
It was a training sword on his belt anyway.
It'd bruise, but not kill.
"Then, let the spar begin."
The guard knight watching signaled the start.
On the sun-warmed stone floor of the training grounds, faint dust swirled lazily.
With their shadows stretching long, Erje moved first.
Her training sword sliced through the air toward Ision's shoulder.
A sharp momentum unbecoming her age rode the blade's tip.
Ision tilted his head just a half-beat late, ever so slightly.
The blade grazed past his shoulder, and he naturally pivoted aside.
Erje didn't falter at the failed first strike.
Her sword flowed into a continuous assault.
Head, shoulder, chest, side.
Sharp linkages, even for a spar.
Ision dodged them all as if it were nothing.
To be precise, he moved a step late, evading by a hair's breadth each time.
Repeatedly slipping away from strikes that should have hit.
This only made Erje pursue him more relentlessly.
Tension filled her body, her swings growing fiercer.
They kept barely missing, fueling her dogged chase.
Fatigue built up in Erje's sword arm.
Her initially fierce strikes began to lose power.
Her eyes wavered belatedly.
Her sword arm suddenly felt leaden.
Ision hadn't swung once yet.
Yet Erje was wearing herself out alone.
Swinging with full force at a target that only dodges is far more exhausting than countering attacks.
Erje didn't know this, lacking the experience.
Lifting the sword felt burdensome.
Had training swords always been this heavy?
For the first time in her life, swinging felt hard.
A sense of wrongness.
The moment she felt it, Erje leaped back hard.
Panting, she glared at Ision.
Meanwhile, he dangled his sword loosely, casually inspecting his nails.
"Got some sand in there."
His words twisted Erje's face.
No one had ever provoked her in her life.
Her status as 1st Princess.
Born before even the 1st Prince, she was the emperor's most cherished after him.
Provocation had no place in her world.
"Why do you keep dodging?!"
Erje yelled in anger, and he gave a light reply.
Dodging was Ision's specialty.
Blades wrapped in aura from monster geniuses were deadly every instant.
To survive, he'd desperately evaded, ironically mastering the art.
The only one this wouldn't work on was the lady, with her innate genius.
Would he take hits from an eleven-year-old girl?
No way.
"Isn't Your Highness feeling it with your own body right now?"
As he said, Erje's arms trembled uncontrollably.
She'd swung full force, then dug even deeper.
An eleven-year-old's training couldn't endure that.
Dodging couldn't topple a foe.
But it could exhaust them and create openings. Guaranteed.
From start to finish, Erje felt like a plaything in Ision's grasp.
Dancing grandly with her sword at his whim.
Her sword dance only tired her out, inflicting no damage.
"Come on, more."
Her breath caught.
She was struggling already, and he wanted more?
The gap.
For the first time, she felt it against a peer.
She bit her lip.
Irritation surged.
And at eleven, she was still too young to overcome it.
In the end, she dropped her sword hand and turned away.
"I'm done."
A deflated voice followed.
For someone who saw swordplay as fun, this fight was no game.
If she'd lost clashing blades, maybe.
But swinging endlessly at a dodger was boring.
But this was a spar.
The match wasn't over.
The instant Erje turned her back, Ision leaped without hesitation.
"Eh?"
Before Erje could speak, her side took a hard hit, sending her tumbling across the dirt.
She writhed at the unfamiliar pain, swallowing a groan.
Her hair and clothes were a mess from rolling in the dust.
Erje staggered up, bewildered, and looked ahead.
Ision's sword pointed right at her.
Flinch—
Erje shuddered.
It was terror from her first time rolling pathetically on the ground.
Beneath shadowed gray-silver hair.
Black eyes gleamed.
They held warning and anger.
Hic.
Before that gaze, the bratty Erje vanished, leaving only a terrified girl.
"Your Highness, this is a spar."
Ision made sure she understood.
"If you'd admitted defeat and declared it, fine. But turning your back is no way to respect your opponent."
Erje froze.
This was something she'd been taught since childhood.
A knight doesn't show their back.
Unless you concede the fight, ending it on your whim is deeply shameful.
Ision glanced at the imperial knight.
His eyes were wide, but he didn't intervene.
He hadn't expected such dominance, but there was no hostility in his gaze.
At this level, even if the young princess threw a tantrum, he'd cover it well.
It was necessary for the future.
'She didn't cheat; she lost fair in a formal spar. Griping would tarnish the imperial honor.'
The imperial family was steadfast in knightly honor.
He knew this wouldn't backfire.
So Ision bowed politely to the princess.
Emphasizing he too was a knight of decorum.
"If you want to judge others, start by conducting yourself properly. Aren't you representing House Escarion, Your Highness?"
"......"
Erje hung her head.
Her face burned red.
Better late than never, she'd grasped her shame.
Ision looked up at the guard knight, who smiled faintly.
Someone had said what he'd wanted to.
Sometimes, words from a total stranger your age hit harder than from a familiar adult.
"I heard from Macdram, but you're no nine-year-old. Well done. The spar goes to Ision."
Status aside, anyone stepping into a spar was an equal knight.
This was enshrined in the empire's code of chivalry.
No backlash, as expected.
'If anything, he might even thank me.'
Ision had been strict to cement a villainous image.
No matter how Erje saw him later, to Kankalix, he'd be the guy who took down his precious sister.
He wouldn't take kindly to that.
With the 1st Prince opposing, selection as exclusive knight was off the table.
"......Next time."
Then, Erje rose with the guard's support.
"Next time, this won't happen."
Her eyes filled with resolve, shining transparently.
She seemed like a different person.
She'd gained some realization.
A mark of her genius, in its own way.
Though this romance fantasy world had geniuses who outshone her.
That didn't deny her own talent.
Erje, vowing a rematch.
Ision grinned boldly back.
A bit over the line, sure.
But he had to drive the nail in with his rude attitude.
"No need. I'll win next time too."
No blessings—just a clean, brutal spike.