Pinky Promises and Sparring Shadows
“B-but there's a condition.”
Ashu's ears perked up at Ideal's words. A condition. What on earth would she demand of him? From her perspective, it must feel utterly bewildering. Asking her to suddenly join a league reserved for nobles, and with someone she'd only met a few days ago, no less. So, naturally, she'd have conditions.
“...After the subjugation tournament ends, tell me what happened to you, disciple.”
“What kind of thing?”
“...”
Ideal clamped her mouth shut. Ah, right. After he'd hauled her around yesterday like a sack of potatoes, how could he not know?
“Fine, got it.”
“R-really?”
“Have you lived your whole life getting scammed? Do I really seem that untrustworthy?”
“W-well, that's true, but...”
“What?”
“Eek!”
She always cowered before him, yet she still said whatever was on her mind. It was absurd, but her reactions were oddly amusing.
“Then... promise me.”
“What's this?”
Ideal stuck out her pinky finger. Wondering what it meant, he stared blankly until she realized with an “oh” and started explaining.
“Ah, th-this is like a symbol from where I lived, for promising to keep your word.”
Ideal hooked her pinkies together with both hands in demonstration. Mimicking her, his pinky intertwined tightly with hers.
—A fuzzy warmth bloomed in his chest.
“...Then it's a promise!”
“Jeez.”
Ideal grinned with a “hehe.” Unaware his ears had turned faintly red, Ashu cleared his throat.
But thinking it over, wasn't it unfair for only her to set conditions?
“Then I have one too.”
“Huh...?”
“If you take first place in the subjugation tournament, grant one wish of mine.”
Ideal pondered briefly before nodding.
“Sure, d-deal. Why not!”
Ashu unconsciously gripped her pinky tighter. For the first time in ages, his competitive fire roared to life.
“The subjugation tournament, huh...”
Thinking it over, I could see why Ashu asked me to join him. Even the servants ignored him—who would step up as his guardian? Probably no one. And noble society thrived on rumors. Ashu hadn't even shown his face in high society yet, so they'd no doubt gossiped, dissected, and savored every scandal.
If he skipped the tournament or went alone, the aftermath was predictable.
'I need to make Ashu take first place.'
My resolve shifted a bit. Until now, I'd thought he was a hopeless spoiled brat. But there's that saying: nature is shaped by nurture. Humans are molded good or evil by their environment. Cliché, sure. Stories of neglected kids twisting into villains abound.
It pissed me off.
I didn't know what he'd done, but he was just a 10-year-old kid.
'...And if he wins this time, even the Grand Duke won't touch him lightly.'
Right now, Ashu was like a ghost. He existed, but no noble had laid eyes on him. Staking his claim here would make him untouchable, Grand Duke or not.
'But that's not all.'
Make Ashu Kan Hart win the Magical Beast Subjugation Tournament!
Free Appearance Change Ticket (1-time use, 7-day cooldown)
“...I have to make him win!!”
With this, I could truly start my second life. Crush the Grand Duke's pride and secure my retirement on the side.
“Heh heh heh...”
I cackled wickedly at my status window. Get him to win, and I could bolt anytime.
'Win it, then endure for 3 years.'
The tournament ran every 3 years. One victory, and the Grand Duke wouldn't dare touch him.
“Ideal, fighting!!”
I pumped my fist at the mirror.
Subjugation tournament prep or not, daily life with Ashu hadn't changed much. Same lessons (heavy on ethics), same bored expression from him. I remade the doll just in case, only for it to get snatched again—brutally.
'...I figured it wouldn't, but why does he lose it over dolls?'
This was the third time! Three!! He'd ignore others but always snag mine or his own. Even sobbing and clinging didn't stop him. Spoiled little punk. At this point, he clearly enjoyed tormenting me.
But our schedule wasn't entirely unchanged. Right now, Ashu and I were sparring.
“...Th-then, here I go?”
“Yeah.”
The words barely left our mouths before we charged each other.
“Hup!!”
Left shoulder? Whoosh!! Ashu's sword sliced empty air. Twisting away on instinct, I whipped a roundhouse kick at him.
“Ugh!”
He barely blocked with his arm. Just four days. Not perfect, but I'd adapted somewhat to Ideal's body. Insane flexibility and speed—like a hexagonal stat chart with those two maxed out. Enough to overwhelm future top-tier Ashu.
Of course, he was still a kid now.
'This raw talent?'
I'd been shocked plenty. No wonder he wasn't just any black curtain.
“You...”
“N-not 'you,' your master!!”
He'd been scared at first, but now he was hooked. This was my legal chance to smack my precious disciple!!
Kicks tore through air repeatedly. Ashu calmly deflected each one. Monstrous dynamic vision.
'...His battle sense is innate.'
I doubted any peer could match his talent. Probably none.
“Hoo...”
“Sh-should we stop?”
Ashu lowered his sword and nodded. Both drenched in sweat. Sticky, but duty called.
As I approached Ashu, he tilted his head quizzically.
“Good work today, disciple.”
Wiping his sweat with a towel, he recoiled in horror.
“Hey, y-you!!”
My hand waved in empty air. What? Why the freakout? His panic startled me more.
“Huh...?”
“Fix your clothes first...!!”
“M-my clothes?”
Okay, it was a bit revealing. Sweat-soaked white tank top and black leggings. Sparring got hot, so this was my go-to workout gear now.
'...Boobs and butt are snug, but whatever.'
Comfort mattered. Besides, Ashu wasn't some grown man—he was 10. More like a late-born little brother now. Feeding him, spending all day together—it was stirring maternal instincts.
“Wh-what's wrong with it...?”
“...”
I tugged the tank strap absentmindedly. Ashu massaged his temples like he had a headache.
“...Don't wear that in front of others.”
“Huh...?”
“Especially men. Got it?”
“I-I only wear it around you anyway?”
No one else to spar with. Just solo workouts in the training grounds now and then.
'Knights' gazes sometimes linger, but...'
They weren't training with me.
“...Then only wear it around me.”
“Got it...”
Now my disciple was dictating my wardrobe. My master's dignity had truly plummeted.
'Wait, opportunity?'
I stared at Ashu. Saliva gulped down at the terrifying demand to come.
'But if not now...!'
My palms slicked with sweat more than during sparring. Deep breath.
“Disciple.”
“What.”
“Call me 'Master,' and I'll only wear it around y—”
“Just wear it.”
“Yes...”
Flat rejection. With that, he tossed his outer coat—“put it on”—and bolted.
“...Doesn't even fit.”
Still, I managed to squeeze in. Felt a step closer to my spoiled boy. My lips curved faintly.
Time to make dinner again.
An owl's hoot filled the hollow night. The man murmured lowly to the knight before him.
“You know the magical beast subjugation tournament is in five days.”
“Yes.”
“That brat Ashu says he's entering with Ideal.”
“...Aren't you stopping him?”
In the dim room, the man crossed his arms with a sneer.
“Why would I? It's a golden opportunity.”
“...”
The knight bowed his head. Moonlight gleamed in the man's eyes—dark, almost devoid of reason.
“That monster devoured my wife.”
He clenched his fist.
“And it's got a violent temper to boot. The kind that'll doom House Grand Duke someday. Better let the branch family take over.”
Endless rage poured out. Hatred surged. Bloodshot eyes glared at the knight.
“...Kill them both in the tournament. I've already chosen the successor. Stage it like Ideal killed Ashu Kan Hart.”
“Yes...”
The knight bowed. It was his lord's ironclad command—and he would obey.