29. I Can't Resist Roasted Sweet Potatoes
With trembling hands, I gently stroked Seria's black hair.
"Uh, um. Yeah. Good girl, Seria."
"Hehe..."
Seria smiled brightly, looking utterly pleased. Normally, she'd freak out with something like, "Wh-what are you doing? Why touch my hair all of a sudden?!" and pull away. But today, she even nudged her head closer, as if asking for more. Tilting her head in time with my touch, she looked exactly like a puppy.
"Young Master, praise me."
"Huh? Oh, praise? What kind?"
"I've been training super hard lately, and I've been doing a great job as your escort, right?"
"Y-yeah. Seria's the best in the empire."
"More. Praise me more."
Seria burrowed right into my arms and looked up at me. I poured out compliments like a broken radio.
"Uh, um! Our Seria's pretty, amazing with the sword, eats well, smells great from the shampoo..."
"Young Master, honestly..."
Seria buried her face in my chest and giggled. I was losing it. She was so cute. Was this the side effect of the magic day? Side effects were supposed to be like this?
This might actually be pretty great?
Sure, it was a strain on my heart, but if it was like this, I'd welcome it.
But it didn't end there. At lunch, she held out her spoon and asked, "Can't you feed me, Young Master?" In the afternoon, she used my lap as a pillow the whole time I was reading and wouldn't get up. She even followed me to the bathroom like a baby bird.
And then, the moment we'd all been waiting for: bedtime.
Knock knock.
My bedroom door creaked open, and Seria peeked in, clutching her pillow tightly.
"Young Master... are you asleep?"
"Nah, not yet. What's up? Stomach hurting again?"
"...No, not that... I just can't sleep."
Seria crept toward the bed.
"C-can I sleep next to you tonight?"
"Huh? We're not kids anymore..."
"I can't...?"
Those teary eyes. How could I say no to that face?
"Yeah, alright. Come on in."
I shoved the blankets aside on one side. Seria slipped in beside me, pulled the covers over us, and wrapped her arms around my waist.
"So warm..."
"Want me to rub your tummy?"
"Yes. Please rub it."
I carefully slipped my hand under the blankets and gently massaged her stomach. Soon, I heard her steady breathing. Looking down at Seria asleep in my arms, I grinned.
Will she be back to normal tomorrow? Hmm, I wouldn't mind if it lasted two more days.
-
The next morning.
"Rise and shine, Young Master. How long are you going to sleep?"
I snapped my eyes open at the familiar voice. There stood Seria by the bed, impeccably dressed in her crisp escort knight uniform, arms crossed as she looked down at me. A wooden sword hung at her waist, and her expression was back to its usual icy beauty mode.
"...Huh?"
I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
"Seria? Your stomach? All better?"
"Yes, completely. Hurry and wash up. Breakfast is getting cold."
Her usual stiff tone. Where was that adorable puppy from yesterday who'd begged, "Pet me, pleeease" while snuggling into my arms?! This was so unfair. I kicked off the blankets and yelled,
"Give me back my cute, adorable Seria!!"
"Wh-what kind of nonsense is that?!"
Seria recoiled in horror.
"Yesterday you begged me to pet your hair! You whined for praise while lying on my lap! You even crawled into my bed at night!"
"Wh-when did I?! I don't remember!"
Seria played dumb. But I wasn't backing down.
"Liar! You were so cute yesterday! Say 'Young Master~' just once more!"
"I-I didn't say that!!"
Seria pouted and turned her head away sharply. But her ears, peeking through her black hair, were bright red.
"Oh ho, playing the amnesia card?"
I smirked and got out of bed.
"Fine. Guess I'll go spread the word around the Lord's Castle. That our escort knight is actually a huge flirt."
"Y-Young Master! I'm seriously gonna punish you!!!"
Seria's face flushed crimson as she drew her wooden sword.
"Eek! Help! The flirt murderer's here!"
"Don't you run!!"
I bolted out the door into the hallway, with Seria hot on my heels, fuming. The Lord's Castle corridors were in chaos from morning.
Still, this was Seria at her best. Though I wouldn't mind seeing that cute side once a month or so.
-
The inner courtyard of the Lord's Castle. Seria and I faced each other, ten paces apart. Tension hung thick in the air. A cool autumn breeze whispered between us, sending a dry leaf fluttering into the sky.
Rustle.
The instant it hit the ground, we both lunged forward without a word.
"Hah!"
Seria kicked off the dirt, closing the distance in a blur that no 14-year-old girl should manage. Before I knew it, her dark brown wooden sword traced a sharp blue arc right at me.
Ice Shield!
I thrust out my hand, deploying mana. Moisture in the air froze solid, forming a transparent ice barrier.
BOOM!
The wooden sword crashed into the ice with a thunderous explosion. Cracks spiderwebbed across the compressed shield before it shattered like glass.
Insane physical stats!
I used the shards as cover to leap back, snapping my fingers.
Wind Blade, barrage!
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Five or six crescent-shaped wind blades sliced toward Seria's blind spots. But she didn't flinch, just snapped her wrist to spin the sword.
Tat tat tat!
The blades ricocheted off harmlessly into the air. Deflecting magic with raw physics and those freakish reflexes. I whistled in admiration and gathered more mana.
"Opening!"
Seria leaped into an overhead strike. I tried manipulating the earth at my feet for a mud pit, but she hovered mid-air, extending her hang time, and dove straight at my head.
"Hyah!"
But no worries. My reflexes had improved lately. I sidestepped easily.
Except...
Thud.
"Wha?!"
My retreating foot caught on a protruding rock in the grass. Off-balance, I flailed in the air before crashing butt-first in the most undignified way.
And Seria never misses an opening like that. With a whoosh of air, the tip of her wooden sword stopped exactly one centimeter from my throat.
"Hoo."
Seria caught her breath, looking down at me smugly.
"The world of combat is cruel, Young Master."
She was certain of victory. But she'd overlooked one thing: before I was a mage, just how dirty and trickster-y I could be.
I widened my eyes and pointed behind her frantically.
"Whoa, over there! What's Dad doing?!"
"Huh? The Lord?"
Seria whipped her head around in surprise. Of course, there was nothing behind her but tumbling leaves.
She fell for it.
"Uh...?"
Realizing too late, but I'd already snapped my fingers.
Gust!
Wham!
A fierce gust slammed her wrist. Caught off-guard, her wooden sword spun away into the air. I sprang up and aimed my index finger at her forehead, a mana bullet loaded.
"Seria, the world of combat is cruel."
Her lips puffed out at my snarky line.
"...That's cheating. Don't you have any knightly pride?"
"I'm a mage, not a knight. Call it brilliant psychological warfare?"
I snickered and lowered my finger.
Why were we sparring so intensely? Simple.
"Alright, as per the bet: two for me, one for you."
"Hmph. I won't fall for it next time."
Roasted sweet potatoes. Couldn't resist them in this weather!
Seria grumbled as she gathered the scattered firewood. I stood before it and snapped my fingers.
"Let's see, fire control is key for roasting sweet potatoes. Fire..."
But trouble. My mana circuits must've been unstable from the intense spar. The small campfire I'd aimed for exploded into a roaring blaze.
WHOOSH!
"Ack!"
It was about to spread to the piled leaves.
"Young Master! Dangerous!"
Seria kicked her fallen wooden sword into her hand. Then, with a flawless horizontal slash from overhead, she swung at the fire pillar.
FWOOOM!!
A crescent-shaped, translucent slash erupted from the sword's tip. It cleaved the flames in two, snuffing them out instantly.
Sizzle.
Only split logs and white smoke lingered on the grass.
I gaped, slack-jawed.
"What the—did you just fire a sword beam?"
To my stunned question, Seria casually dusted off her wooden sword.
"Just fanned it a bit."
"You monster."
I shook my head in disbelief. Fanned it? If that's fanning, a typhoon's just a gentle breeze.