Broken Heart and Broken Blade
What exactly is an Apostle?
Is Prien truly the descendant of Kyle?
...Why was I reincarnated at all?
She had so many questions before they even started talking. Yet after that single answer, Lucia could ask nothing more.
Of course she couldn't. Glenn had told her to treat it as nothing more than a terrible nightmare, but Lucia was no fool. At some point, pity had settled into his eyes.
Realizing that "treat it like a nightmare" was his way of comforting her was something even a child could have done.
I shouldn't have asked.
So this was what people meant when they said curiosity killed the cat. If she had never known, she wouldn't be suffering like this. Dragging her exhausted body after her equally exhausted heart, Lucia walked toward the far end of the dark corridor.
Click—
She turned the shockingly cold doorknob and looked into the barren room.
The chamber she was visiting for the first time in six years remained exactly as she had left it. Whether the maids had kept it tidy or the peculiar climate of Dawn Castle was to blame, not a single speck of dust marred the neatly arranged blankets. The girl lifted the cool covers and slipped inside.
"......Haa."
Staring blankly at the ceiling, she let out a stifled breath into the empty air. Tonight, she doubted she would sleep easily. In her previous life she had been able to rest even on barren rocky mountains where not a single blade of grass grew, yet tonight was different. Praying she would not dream of nightmares, Lucia quietly closed her eyes.
Early morning.
Lucia woke to a chill slowly seeping into her bones.
...What time is it?
She pushed her heavy body upright and, with dazed eyes, searched for a clock somewhere in the room.
No matter how hard she looked, however, no clock appeared. And for good reason—the place she had woken was not the mansion in Rihnn, but Dawn Castle.
Because of the cold, Dawn Castle kept no mechanical clocks. Recalling the old fact, Lucia rose from the bed, feeling stiff and sore.
The scenery felt somehow unfamiliar.
Of course every old castle looked much the same, yet Lucia's room, colored by her red hair, seemed even more desolate.
The furniture, long faded by time, and the harsh climate where snow fell year-round allowed little sunlight, casting everything in gray.
Haa—
When she exhaled into the empty air, a white puff of breath streamed out.
Lucia massaged her slightly stiff shoulders and stood. Was it because she had slept in a strange place, or because of the sparring that had gone late into the night?
...It's that terrible nightmare, no doubt.
She hadn't dreamed, yet she blamed her poor condition on the nightmare. There were more than enough reasons for her body to feel wretched.
Still, at least I didn't have a nightmare today.
Lucia plopped down at the vanity and tidied her messy hair. What should she do today? The daily training she never skipped was canceled.
Instead of the training grounds, using her poor condition as an excuse, Lucia headed for the study. She knew from experience that reading helped when her mind was restless.
She chose a book that caught her fancy from the desk and settled into the sunniest spot. Feeling the warm sunlight on her back, she meant to savor a slow read. But—
Her chest tightened once more.
A future that would inevitably come to pass.
A terrible nightmare.
Glenn had spoken as if he were certain that the contents of a prophecy never went astray.
One possibility rose in her mind. If the dream of driving a blade into Shiron's chest was a true prophecy, what if Lucia took her own life beforehand?
A thread of hope appeared.
Yet that fragile hypothesis was soon shattered by another possibility.
...What wicked bastard would try to raise a corpse?
They were few, but vile beings who commanded the dead had certainly existed in the past. There had been the Deep-Sea Witch who controlled corpses drowned in the ocean, and witches or black mages who reached a certain level sometimes learned necromancy as well.
As for now... I don't know.
Thud—
Lucia tossed the unfinished book aside and buried her face in the desk. The more she fretted, the more persuasive Glenn's words became. No method of changing the future was visible at all.
"Found you."
She felt a familiar tapping on her shoulder. When she turned her head, she saw a young man's face mixed with mischief.
"Hey."
Shiron, smiling with his eyes, gave a little wave.
"I figured you'd be at the training grounds. What are you doing here?"
"...Can't you tell just by looking? Reading."
She answered curtly and looked back at her book. Shiron paid no mind and snatched the volume away.
An annoying act. The words that followed were even more annoying.
"Let's spar."
"...What?"
Lucia turned her head at the sudden remark.
"Didn't you hear me? I said let's spar."
"Are you serious? The outcome's already decided anyway. What's the point?"
"Geez. You're extra prickly today."
Lucia had always had her prickly side, yet somehow today it was sharper. Still, Shiron didn't take her attitude seriously. Girls—Yura included—sometimes threw fits for no real reason.
Maybe...
"Puberty?"
"No!"
Lucia shouted in denial. After reincarnating and everything, puberty? He had missed by a mile.
"Fine, whatever."
With a snicker, Shiron seized her wrist. Lucia was dragged all the way to the training grounds with a sullen expression.
"...I said I'd do it, so I'm doing it."
Standing in the training grounds, Lucia stared at Shiron opposite her. In his hand was a sword white from blade to hilt. The sword he had found exploring a cave as a child—Shiron called it a Holy Sword.
Lucia knew well how sharp that blade was.
"You said sparring, right? And you're using a real sword?"
"Yeah."
The smile from earlier was gone from Shiron's face.
"You can use defensive Aura, right? Without it, you could die."
"I don't need it."
Shiron rolled his shoulders as he spoke. In truth, Lucia wasn't wrong. No matter how excellent her swordsmanship, accidents could happen. That was why only those who could wrap their entire body in Aura for protection were qualified to spar with real blades—or further, with sword energy.
Shiron swung the white sword through the air a few times, then settled into stance.
"I managed fine without it before."
"..."
Lucia picked up the black iron sword beside her. She had planned to answer with her fists if he took some half-hearted pose, but at least he was holding a proper sword form.
I'll go easy. Just respond until...
Whoosh!
Lucia's eyes flew wide at the distance that closed in an instant. In a flash, Shiron was right in front of her, swinging. Crash! Sword met sword with a deafening roar.
Screeech. Lucia deflected the pressing force sideways and stepped back several paces. Yet the moment she retreated, he pursued relentlessly. Shiron glared as if he meant to kill her. Lucia drew mana up from her dantian.
Going easy won't cut it.
She clenched her teeth. She had been careful for fear of an accident, but that had been arrogant. It was no way to treat an opponent who was taking the spar seriously. And—
The black iron sword's edge chipped.
That terrifying white blade. If she hadn't flowed mana into her sword the moment they clashed... it wouldn't have broken, but it might have needed a long stay at the forge. She had nearly ruined the cherished sword she meant to use for her coming-of-age ceremony.
Huu—
White Aura wrapped the black blade. Lucia tracked the sword paths raining down from every direction. Sight, judgment, power—all of it so vast that measuring his level was pointless. She parried the storm of strikes as if they were a massive shield crashing down.
She blocked every attack, yet it was no one-handed show of form.
He's getting faster.
Lucia drew a little more mana from her dantian. Shiron's sword was no longer the wild swinging of the past. He aimed properly for vital points and sought to drive the edge in. Whether the opponent was family or a half-sister made no difference. He was desperately trying to kill Lucia.
That was because he trusted her. With Lucia, it was fine to go this far. He called it sparring, yet even swinging a blade thick with murderous intent, Lucia would block it for all to see. That faith lived in Shiron.
Monster of a girl.
Shiron felt a sharp, tingling sensation. Golden eyes flashed as they read every sword path. In that leisurely gaze he saw the confidence that she could slip through any gap in his technique whenever she pleased. The difference in skill was immense.
That's why I like it even more.
Shiron grinned so wide his mouth nearly split.
A spar right before the coming-of-age ceremony. The result was satisfying. It seemed she hadn't merely been playing around while they were apart. Last night Shiron had seen the flames on the training grounds. Lucia and Ciriel sparring. The two had used magic as they fought. He had wondered if she was changing her path to mage with all that spellcasting.
Besides, hadn't she been thoroughly beaten by Ciriel? His heart had dropped the moment Lucia's sword fell, but it seemed that worry had been groundless after all.
Shiron glared at the face beyond their crossed blades.
"The sword suits you better than magic."
"...What's that supposed to mean all of a sudden?"
Was he trying to make her drop her guard? Yet Lucia's mind did not waver. Like a blade stretched straight, the turmoil in her heart settled.
KRAAANG—!
In the storm of clashing swords, a white explosion bloomed. Air screamed under the full-powered strike.
Lucia was strong. But Shiron was strong enough as well. He could cleave boulders with a swing and gouge the earth with sword wind alone.
And then—
Lucia began to swing her sword.
Standing still and only blocking would never let her parry every strike. That thought filled her head. The path that had only been diverting the rain of blows flipped once.
And once more. An ink-black arc that split the air slipped into the emptied gap.
Toward the sword pouring down like lightning from above, Shiron swung.
It's chipped.
Shiron remembered the black blade that had been moving so slowly.
Badly.
The Holy Sword was unharmed.
About time to replace it anyway.
Just a little more—Shiron drew up more power.
Clang!
Light... light?
Lucia felt a wrongness. Unlike the heavy roar from before, the sound that rang out now was a thin, high-pitched scream.
It wasn't only the sound that was light.
Lucia could no longer swing her sword.
Shiron knew it too, and stopped the blade he had been swinging.
Lucia looked down at the black iron sword in her hand.
The cleanly broken blade met her eyes.
"...Uh."
Her shoulders trembling, Lucia raised her head.
"What. What is this?"
"Can't you tell just by looking?"
The young man answered calmly, wearing that same annoying smile with his eyes.
Shiron steadied his ragged breathing and said,
"Looks like you need a new sword."