Penalty Time (4)
Frey drank in the commotion of iron and wood colliding.
The sight of a white shield brimming with divinity being shoved back by a wooden sword.
Not once had she ever managed to break through Lucy's shield when the girl was fighting at full strength.
And this, despite having thrown herself into breaking that shield more desperately than ever before.
It wasn't much different with anyone else, either.
The Third Prince, whom Frey grudgingly acknowledged, had been helpless before Lucy's shield. And the Second Prince, who — talent for the sword aside — overwhelmed Frey in raw strength, had been utterly powerless against it as well.
Others would fare no better.
To the people of her generation, Lucy's shield was a fortress wall that would never, ever come down.
But that wall was only a wall within the confines of the Academy.
Before Count Kent, it was nothing more than an ordinary shield.
“You're struggling just to hold on. Where did that fire from the beginning go?”
“Can't you tell just by looking?♡ I'm toying with you♡ I can't believe you can't even see that♡ So~ lame♡”
“Oh? Is that so? Then allow me to pick up the pace.”
To put it another way — Lucy's shield was fulfilling its role even outside the Academy, even before Count Kent.
Just look at the swordsman whose name rang across the entire continent, beyond the borders of the kingdom, racking his brain to pierce Lucy's guard.
Layering feints to disrupt the shield's movement.
Twisting her nerves by striking where the shield could not protect.
At times striking the shield itself to stagger Lucy's footing — Count Kent was not simply humoring his daughter's friend. He was engaging Lucy in complete earnest.
Lucy's shield had already stepped beyond a child's world and into the world of adults, and so, personal feelings aside, he had committed his sword to her with full gravity.
Frey had expected this from the moment she brought Lucy here.
She had brought Lucy because she knew her father would take her seriously.
Because she believed that Count Kent — one of the very few warriors Frey herself acknowledged — would show her the way to surmount Lucy's shield.
“Your lips are trembling. Shall we continue?”
“Ha?♡ These are trembling because your useless Count is so lame I'm trying to hold back my laughter♡ I'm totally~ relaxed over here♡”
“Understood. Let's keep going.”
Frey's judgment had been right.
Count Kent demonstrated, again and again, a dozen different ways to dismantle Lucy's defense.
Watching Lucy — who always stood so haughty and untouchable at the Academy — crumple to the ground over and over, Frey compiled information, piece by careful piece.
Information she would need to defeat Lucy.
She knew it was a dirty thing to do.
Only a little while ago, she would have snapped back at the very idea — why bother with something so boring? So there was no way Frey didn't understand exactly what kind of behavior this was.
Even so, she did not regret it.
She did not look away from the sight of Lucy staggering back to her feet.
Because defeating Lucy mattered more to Frey than protecting her own petty pride. Because it was the only way she could stay at Lucy's side.
“You wish to keep going?”
“Getting tired already?♡ Puhah♡ This is why washed-up old men are a problem♡”
“Yes. Understood. Continuing.”
To Frey, Lucy Aln was a miracle.
The person who brought color into a world that had been drowned in gray.
The person who was the beginning of countless emotions for her.
The person who made her understand that she had a pride of her own as a swordswoman.
And the person who breathed life and liveliness into the space around a girl who had always been alone.
The world Frey had seen before entering the Academy and meeting Lucy, and the world she saw now — they were not remotely the same.
How could the days when she wandered after danger, never even realizing that what she felt was fear, compare to now — to understanding a whole range of emotions and searching for the ones she truly wanted to feel?
“...You were holding back your strength? Remarkable.”
“Pfft♡ I think it's more like the old Count just ran out of gas♡ It's okay to say you're tired, you know♡ It's not a crime to be old♡”
She understood the gap between those two worlds.
She had learned just how chilling a gray landscape could be each time a new color was added to it.
She understood the fear she would feel, should she ever face that gray again.
And so Frey wanted Lucy to stay by her side, always.
Because if Lucy — the one who had brought color into her world — were to vanish, Frey's world would bleed back into ash.
“You think that'll work on me?♡ I'm not an idiot like you, Frey unnie♡”
“Your mind is quick, but it's not enough yet! You failed to notice what's hidden behind you!”
But Lucy never stood still in one place.
With every day that passed, she leapt that much further ahead.
Never growing complacent. Never lazing about. As if gripped by an obsession with strength, she kept sprinting forward.
Watching her run from beside her, Frey came to understand that she could not hold Lucy's wrist and stop her.
So she chose to run alongside her instead.
Because if she could match that stride, no matter how far Lucy leapt ahead, she could always remain at her side.
“...So this is what 'greed' is.”
At the end of that thread of thought, recalling a word she'd once seen in a dictionary, Frey found the corner of her mouth curling upward without her meaning it to.
She'd found another new color.
Thanks to Lucy.
How could she ever give this joy back to her?
Deep in that endless circling of thought, Frey lifted her head at a warmth brushing against her skin.
At its center blazed Lucy's mace, glowing like a tiny sun.
“You can obviously take this much, right?!♡”
“Tch! Every last drop of Aln blood is nothing but monsters!”
Before anyone noticed, the end of the duel was drawing near.
Having poured out every last ounce of strength, I'd lost even the energy to get up, and I stared blankly at the pointlessly clear sky.
A total defeat.
The gap between Count Kent and me was so vast that no amount of wracking my brain could produce an answer — an overwhelming, absolute defeat.
The fact that I'd held out against the Count for a fairly long stretch of time was, at best, only because he'd been considerate of me.
If the Count had decided from the start to flatten me, I would have been sprawled on the ground without managing even a token struggle.
How long has it been since I got beaten this badly?
To find a comparison, I'd have to dig all the way back to when I first set foot in this world and Karl smashed me into paste.
Ah. The more I think about it, the more it's driving me insane.
Back when this was a game, I did challenges like "Defeat Count Kent Barehanded." And now I can't even muster the nerve to lay a finger on him.
Haaaah.
And here I'd thought I'd gotten pretty strong.
Apparently not.
I'm still weak.
At this rate, forget seeing the ending of Soul Academy — I'll be lucky to still be breathing by graduation.
It's true that one enemy, Nakrad, has fallen. But this world is still crawling to bursting with garbage that prays for the apocalypse.
As long as I'm the Chief God's Apostle — as long as I stand opposed to the Evil Gods by His will — they will inevitably come for my neck.
If only to survive, I absolutely have to become far stronger than I am now.
Puhah. I'm actually grateful to Frey for proposing this duel.
If I hadn't gone head-to-head with Count Kent like this, I would have slowly let my ego inflate itself.
And there's one more thing to be thankful for, too.
All the weaknesses of mine that surfaced from clashing with the Count.
Because he'd singled out my shortcomings with such relentless precision, like a man delivering a lesson, I came to understand exactly which direction I needed to go.
'First step: raising my physical capabilities.'
I have more than one or two flaws, but shoring up my body comes first.
Sure, my physical stats are overwhelmingly high compared to my generation — but the enemies I have to face aren't the people around me. They're the great evils Grandpa once had to face.
At the very least, I need to be able to hold out against someone like Count Kent.
<Your thinking is sound, to be sure. But pushing your training any harsher than this will do naught but harm you, young one.>
'Don't worry. That's not how I'm going to do it.'
However brutal I made my training beyond what I'm already doing, I couldn't rocket to the level I want through sheer effort alone.
Stats that grow through training have a hard ceiling, after all.
So how do I raise my physical capabilities?
If you're a Soul Academy hardcore veteran, there's only one answer, isn't there?
The grind.
One thing after another kept piling up and shoved leveling onto the back burner, so I'll make it up over the break.
Aaah. This vacation, I'm seriously going to live locked inside dungeons.
Without even a moment's rest.
Crawling through dungeon after dungeon after dungeon.
Living like a total shut-in.
...Heheh.
God, that sounds amazing.
I was midway through drafting my vacation plans inside my head when Frey's face suddenly invaded my field of vision.
Those glittering eyes of hers are making me nervous.
Don't tell me she wants to spar right now?
That would be a problem.
I just threw literally everything I had left at the Count.
I am completely, totally exhausted.
My stamina is good, sure, but even good stamina has its limits, you know.
“Lucy.”
'What is it?'
“What? Frey unnie.”
“Come to the estate. To celebrate me bringing a friend home, they're throwing a party there.”
...Cancel that.
Cancel, cancel!
Frey! How about we just spar instead, you and me?! I'll drag my body up even if I collapse from exhaustion — let's duel!
Okay?! Please?!
I genuinely do not think I can survive the Kent estate's infinite positivity in my current state!
I'm begging you!
Unfortunately, Frey did not exactly hold a strong voice in the Kent household.
Half-dragged to the estate against my will, I received yet another round of profuse thanks from the people there.
I was fed until my stomach nearly burst, all while being told I was nothing but skin and bones.
I trained alongside the Kent family knights, who were every bit as rowdy as the rest of the household.
I ended up sparring with a whole crowd of people, Frey and Parna included.
And by the time I came back to my senses, I was preparing for bed in one of the estate's rooms.
How on earth did it come to this?
I had no intention of spending the night here.
I was lying on the bed in a modest room — humble, for such a prestigious count's family — replaying the chaos of the day, when someone knocked on the door.
“Lucy. Can I come in?”
'Yes. Of course.'
“Suit yourself, Frey unnie.”
Frey, wearing leather clothes that looked fit for an adventurer under the pretense of pajamas, shuffled straight over to my side the moment she stepped inside.
'What is it?'
“What do you want, Frey unnie? Don't tell me you got lonely at night and want to sleep together?”
“Mm. It's not that. I just had one last thing to ask before the day was over.”
Come to think of it, the only things Frey had asked of me today were to call her "unnie" and to spar with the Count.
After that, the Kent mother and daughter had us running in circles, so the two of us hadn't had a spare moment alone together.
Alright. I've decided.
Thanks to you, Frey, I've gained a lot today.
So whatever it is, I'll do my absolute best to grant it.
'Go ahead and ask.'
“Spit it out. I'm dying to know what kind of lame request Frey unnie could possibly have.”
At my question, Frey — uncharacteristically for her — hesitated over her words, then leaned her face right up close to mine.
“Pet me.”
'...I'm sorry, what?'
“...What?”
“Tell me I did amazing clearing a hard dungeon. Praise me for learning to handle aura freely.”
Of all the requests she could have made.
Watching Frey's ears turn red enough to show even under the lamp's dim glow, I let out a snort of laughter and placed my hand on the crown of her head.
I didn't worry that the words might come out wrong.
Right now, surely...
Right now, I could give her the honest truth.
“Handling aura freely already? Frey unnie, you're honestly a genius.”
“Mm. I know. I'm a genius.”
“Charging a dungeon boss head-on was incredible too. I was genuinely in awe, you know?”
“Mm. And?”
“Honestly, I was surprised watching how cooperative you were during the dungeon run. Frey unnie, who always does whatever she wants, actually listening to someone else's instructions! Who'd have thought!”
“...Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Of course it was. It means the beast learned to obey, doesn't it?”
“...No matter how I think about it, that is not a compliment.”
“PUHAHAHA! Busted? Sharp instincts there — not bad for a dummy like you, Frey unnie.”
“Luuccyyyy...”
While Frey grumbled in my ear, I burst out laughing — and then, under the pretense of "praise," went on to pass along all the words I'd never managed to say to her.
Um, hello?
Lady Armadi?
If you planned all of this and set every single piece on the board in advance, I promise I'll offer you a prayer of heartfelt, sincere gratitude.
Being able to say the right words to a friend makes me genuinely happy, you see.
...Actually, no. When I think about it, the only reason I can't say the right words is the Blessing that pervert Armadi put on me in the first place.
So really, you just loaned back something you stole from me for a few minutes. Am I actually supposed to be happy about that?
Whoa. So this is gaslighting.
Truly a lame-ass perverted Chief God. Absolutely devious.
...
Well. Still.
Happy is happy.
I'll deliver my thanks straight and proper, Lady Armadi.
Because if I don't, you'll obviously sulk about it later and pull some petty nonsense over it.