The Face Beneath the Helmet
"Are you… really sure that's all you want? I could give you new techniques or magic books instead."
"It's fine. I'm more curious about your face, Sir Knight."
She was thoroughly flustered by Kaisent's insistence that he wanted to see her face.
"You said that once I repay the debt to the Wolf Mercenary Corps, it would be your turn next. Whether sooner or later, seeing your face is already decided, isn't it?"
"……."
Even if she offered him new techniques or magic books, he claimed her face interested him more. He had even gone so far as to say that seeing it was already a foregone conclusion.
Unable to refute him, the knight asked one final time.
"I'll ask you once more. Is seeing my face truly your wish? If you change it now, I can give you magic tomes from this world…"
"I want to see your face."
"……."
In the end, the knight was left speechless by Kaisent's stubborn demand to see her face.
I was sure he was a clever child. Why on earth does he want to see my face?
In this situation, this is the right answer.
Kaisent was tempted by the magic books the knight offered. Yet the instinct deep in his heart was screaming that he didn't need any of that—he had to see her face. He had never once lost out by following that instinct, so he decided to trust the voice of his heart again this time.
"…Haa."
She already carried a poor image of knights. Breaking her promise here and dragging that image even deeper into the mud was something she refused to do. With a sigh, she removed her helmet.
Shaa—
The soft friction of silk-smooth hair cascading free rang out beautifully. Akina Karayden, the knight with silver-gray hair and golden eyes, waited impassively for the reaction she fully expected.
Her face was slender overall, her healthy brown skin overlaid with a pure white that gave her a robust, wholesome beauty. She was a true beauty. Yet her towering height of nearly 198 centimeters and her massive frame ruined every bit of that charm. On top of that, she had inherited the talent of the previous margrave—who had been a martial prodigy—so from childhood she had been far larger than others, and her fierce eyes made children burst into tears the moment they saw her.
"……."
"??"
Something about his reaction was strange. His mouth hung open, and he was staring up at her with glittering eyes, as if he had just beheld a masterpiece of an entire era.
"Why are you staring at my face like that?"
Akina's voice had returned from the rough male tone to her original one.
"Ah—ah. I-I'm sorry."
"I'm not angry. I only asked because your reaction is different from everyone else's."
"Th-that… I was surprised that Sir Knight is a woman, but… you're just so beautiful…"
"Beautiful? Me?"
Kaisent turned his reddened face away, struggling to contain his embarrassment. It was not empty flattery meant to sound nice—his reaction carried genuine sincerity. That behavior stirred old memories in Akina.
What's with that woman? She's huge. What good is a nice dress on her?
Hahaha. She'd be perfect for an orc or an ogre.
Hey, your family's been pressuring you to get married soon, right? Why not try asking her?
Are you insane? No matter how desperate I am, how could I marry a monster like that?
Those were the words men and women alike had whispered while mocking her at the noble party where she made her social debut. Everyone only criticized her size; no one ever approached her. Shaken, she had abandoned her life as a woman and lived only as a knight and margrave. Drawing on her family's power, she had reached the realm of Origin—the boundary between genius and prodigy. Even seasoned knights were cowed by her fierce eyes and massive frame, and she herself had come to believe she possessed not a shred of feminine charm.
And now someone had called the woman who had discarded her life as a woman "beautiful."
What is this feeling…?
Watching Kaisent's face flush as he looked at her, an emotion she had never once felt in her life surged up.
"Anyway, since I've granted your wish…"
"Ah! Wait!"
The moment she moved to put her helmet back on after granting the wish, Kaisent startled and blurted out as if desperately trying to stop her.
"I-I'm fine! Really! Wearing a helmet must be stuffy for you too, Sir Knight!"
The boy was frantically trying to keep her from putting the helmet back on. When he so openly revealed his desire to keep looking at her face, Akina—who had reached Origin and could even control her emotions—had to desperately suppress a strange embarrassment and the twitching of her lips.
"It's a better magic helmet than it looks. It isn't uncomfortable."
"Ah…"
In the end, when she put the helmet back on, Kaisent's disappointment was plain on his face. He shrank like a pure-white puppy abandoned by its master, and the pitiful sight made Akina hurriedly move on to the next matter.
"Ahem. That aside—you're training in something like a mana road, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Have you no thought of switching to Prana even now? If you decide to learn Prana, I will promise you support."
Unlike mana roads or internal cultivation methods, Prana required a great deal of money, making it nearly impossible for commoners to grow strong with it. The crystals needed to reach the next stage of Prana were also enormously expensive. In such circumstances, mana roads and internal cultivation—methods that let one grow strong purely through talent without any money—could sound very tempting. In fact, many mercenaries and impoverished knights had switched away from Prana.
Yet the reason people in this world still clung to Prana was that it allowed one to grow stronger more easily and quickly than mana roads or internal cultivation. When Prana elevated someone to the next stage, every combat-related ability rose. Muscles became both stronger and more flexible, the amount of usable mana expanded, and the very way one handled mana grew smoother. In the language of the murim world, both external and internal power advanced at once—simply by consuming a crystal and reaching the next stage, without any training. Mana roads and internal cultivation belonged to internal power; to train external power as well, one had to move the body and practice. Moreover, forcing the next stage could lead to heart demons, turning a person into a indiscriminate killer.
"And not all Prana is the same. Our family alone possesses a Prana reinforcement method. If you choose the path of Prana, I will specially gift you our family's method as well."
This world largely possessed two kinds of Prana: one for knights and one for mages. A mage's Prana and a knight's Prana differed in nature; mages developed in the direction of casting more and stronger magic. And every family possessed its own Prana reinforcement method to grow more efficiently and surpass others. Margrave Akina's Prana strengthened combat ability far beyond ordinary Prana. Combined with Kaisent's talent, he would display power comparable to—or even surpassing—a Master even at the Expert rank.
"I'm sorry."
"Hm?"
Yet the moment he heard her proposal, Kaisent refused outright—without even a moment of hesitation, despite how timid and fearful he usually was.
"Just as Sir Knight has Prana unique to your family, I have my family's internal cultivation method. I'm grateful for the offer, but I cannot abandon my family's method."
"Internal cultivation…"
Akina tilted her head at the unexpected term. She had assumed that, looking more like someone from their side of the world than a person of the Central Plains, he would be training in a mana road.
No matter how great this world's Prana is, it can't surpass the internal cultivation method Father created for our family.
Through all the countless hardships he had endured, what had supported Kaisent was his own talent and his family's internal cultivation method. Knights and murim warriors might use the same mana, yet they could not cast magic; Kaisent, however, could use the qi accumulated through internal cultivation for martial arts, magic, sorcery—anything, universally. Without that foundation, he would have died while fleeing "that man" with Dang Seol-yeong, and he would never have overcome so many trials.
"I understand. I only asked just in case. I have no intention of forcing you."
I'll have to show some real strength in this war.
Believing he simply did not yet properly understand the power of Prana, she decided not to press him further and instead show him the strength of a knight who had mastered it.
"Then let us part for today. Unfortunately, starting tomorrow I have duties, so it will be difficult to meet like this."
"Is that so…"
"But you may continue training in this forest."
"But this is a hunting ground…"
"That was a lie I told so I wouldn't be disturbed. I may not look it, but I'm rather high-ranking."
If I say I could already tell she was high-ranking from the way she spoke, would that hurt her feelings?
No matter how he thought about it, saying something like that to a woman felt like a bad idea, so Kaisent swallowed the line that had risen to his throat and offered his farewell.
"Ah! But I never heard Sir Knight's name!"
As the knight prepared to leave, Kaisent belatedly realized they had never exchanged names and asked for hers.
"My name is Jin Resili Caisent. Just call me Kaisent."
"Kaisent. A fine name. As for mine… let's keep it a secret."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because it will be more fun when we meet again someday."
Akina smiled beneath her helmet and vanished swiftly.
He really was an adorable child. I've never felt this at ease around anyone before.
Strangely, she felt far more comfortable with him than with the subordinates she had spent her whole life with. With her subordinates she still had to maintain dignity, but with Kaisent she felt it was all right to show her raw, unfiltered self.
It's been a while—I should tighten the reins on my subordinates.
She herself was fine, but if the knights who had mastered Prana showed weakness against mere greenskins, how disappointed would Kaisent be?
And so, out of nowhere, Margrave Akina's knights found themselves subjected to high-intensity short-term training under the name of "loosening up."
Even after Akina left, Kaisent continued training the techniques he had learned and returned only as dusk fell. The mercenaries were all idling away the time, so when Kaisent slipped back in, they simply noted it and let it pass.
"Kaisent."
"Hm?"
Just then, Kaisent—whose hearing was sharper than most—heard a familiar voice whispering and looked around. Confirming it came from the direction of the supply wagons lined up, he headed that way.
Behind the wagons was a blind spot where no other mercenaries had set up camp, and the surrounding terrain kept it well hidden even from the margrave's encampment.
Suddenly—
"Ah… mmp!?"
An arm shot out, seized Kaisent's arm, and yanked him behind the wagon. Sensing no hostility, he let himself be pulled—and found Lillian embracing him as if to devour him, kissing him fiercely.
"Pwah!? Li-Lilli… mmph!"
He tried to ask her why, but she set a sound-absorbing magic item on the ground and then pounced again as if to swallow him whole. Only after that devouring kiss finally ended did Kaisent hastily speak.
"What's wrong, Lillian!"
"What's wrooong? Are you seriously asking because you don't know?"
She spoke with a smile, yet clear anger laced every word.
"You didn't even come find me yesterday, and today you left without a single word?"
"Uh… th-that was… training to get stronger…"
Lillian didn't even wait for his full excuse. She grabbed his arm and shoved it straight into her pants. Her crotch was already soaked. The moment her "master" returned, the petals even fluttered open in welcome. The instant he touched the softest place on a woman's body, the lust that had been buried beneath Kaisent's desire to train sprang up hard and raised its head.