The Ruthless War Hero Mistook the Genre – Fake Romance Day 3
The sun poured down in cheerful, golden light at high noon. Cassel Cross and I met at the promised location. Beatrice Axelhand stood there with her shoulders thrown back in pure confidence, her expression radiating the kind of smug satisfaction that came from months of secret planning.
I knew exactly how much work she had put into this. For weeks I had personally secured the full approval of the entire club, rallying every single member to help design the perfect fake-romance itinerary. The others had moved with the same fierce enthusiasm they once brought to writing their dark-fantasy novels. They clearly believed this would be a genuine story, complete with stolen kisses and dramatic declarations.
Laura had even offered to tail us discreetly to manipulate public opinion on our growing relationship. I had given her a cool nod and told her to go all out. After all, in our ruthless world of political intrigue and survival, nothing was too underhanded.
“You should brace yourself, President,” I said with a polite smile. “This date could very well be the last one we ever have.”
Beatrice crossed her arms and shot me a glare. “Don’t call me President. Call me your girlfriend, you idiot.”
“Fine, but only if we survive the rest of the day without anyone noticing how obviously fake this is.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
At this rate, the fake romance might end in ten days instead of a month. With a plan this flawless, Beatrice would be thoroughly satisfied.
“Harem! Harem! Harem all the way! Kyaaaaaaaah!”
“Iris, calm down, please.”
“I’m really fine, senpai…”
“If the senpai says that, it means she’s actually losing it!”
Even before the date began, Iris was already spiraling. I handed her the conference pamphlet and kept walking. “Follow me. We’ll start with the must-do for every couple—the Literature Club’s afternoon dessert booth…”
Beatrice’s reaction when she saw the itinerary?
‘She’ll definitely like it.’
I had even run out of excuses. She should be thrilled.
“No. I’m not going.”
But…
“Eh?”
Our plan was perfect only inside the Literature Club. Nothing Beatrice had ever done in her life would come close to matching the Four Great Ducal Houses’ standards.
“How many ordinary dates do you think I’ve had with Magni? Even if the itinerary is flawless, can it ever reach the level of the Four Great Ducal Houses?”
We had completely misread Beatrice’s level of romantic experience. She wasn’t just a normal heiress—she was a seasoned veteran who had deliberately cooked up this fake romance because she wanted to experience real love first and then annul the engagement.
That selfish, dopamine-fueled craving was exactly why Beatrice had no interest in a mundane date.
She was staring at me with a glint of mischief. “You seem completely clueless when it comes to romance. It’s written all over your face.”
She threw the words at me like a challenge, and for a moment I forgot how to answer. We had been faking this for weeks; it felt strange to be on the receiving end of her teasing.
“As expected,” she continued with a smirk, sliding her arm through mine. “I’m glad I chose you for this. There’s so much room for improvement.”
I didn’t have time to respond. She pressed closer, her voice dropping to a whisper right against my ear. “The real secret of romance isn’t how you spend every hour. It’s simply spending time together. You idiot.”
She was describing her entire philosophy of love in one sentence. I could only stare as she pulled me along, completely outmaneuvered.
And Iris, watching from the sidelines, was having a crisis.
“S-Senpai… you treacherous…! With me right in front of you…! You’re actually competing with me?!”
“Iris, please stop…”
“Senpai, we have to snap out of it. We can’t lose to a fake romance! I’m serious!”
Iris was tearing up, sharpening her revenge blade in real time.
Grace Sword Forging – Milky Way Smelting Method
Clang, clang, clang!
The rhythmic ringing of hammers on steel filled the air. Instead of a cozy café, the heat of a roaring forge greeted us. The smell of molten iron and sweat was overwhelming.
“Cassel, you really don’t understand romance at all. A perfect plan is supposed to make a perfect date, right? That’s the kind of thinking only second-rate writers have.”
Beatrice stood before the blazing furnace in her expensive uniform, her voice loud and proud as she preached her philosophy of love. “Real dates are about empathy! Sometimes you need to give them twists, tension, and pain so you can overcome them together and strengthen the bond!”
She thrust a hammer into my hands. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
I understood what she meant instantly.
‘Forge it together… now!’
She looked at me so intensely I had no comeback. Even though this was supposed to be an exotic date, two young people sweating in a furnace like this… Beatrice didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Tell me—who am I?”
“The Student Council President?”
“Wrong. Think about my background.”
“The daughter of the Metallurgy Duke?”
“Exactly.”
She grinned and folded her arms. “I am the precious little girl of Duke Tanugis Excelhand, raised like a princess in a golden cage. Who would dare avoid the forge?”
“Of course not,” I replied smoothly.
“Honestly, I should have taken you to the forge at least once so you could tell everyone, ‘My girlfriend is the Metallurgy Duke’s daughter!’ That’s why I brought you here.”
She didn’t mean because my fiancé had refused. The profit-driven Duke of Evernight would have gladly done the same.
“Of course my fiancé wouldn’t want to come! But wait—!”
Beatrice’s eyes lit up with mischief. “This exotic date! Learning each other’s personalities! These memories will last forever! This is what youth is all about! Hahaha!”
Her selfishness was clear as day.
How were the club members reacting?
“An exotic date… right on our home turf?! That’s… that’s too calculated…”
“We really are behind the Four Great Ducal Houses when it comes to romance…”
“Kids, please… I’m dying of embarrassment…”
The members who had been secretly hoping to manipulate public opinion were now diligently eating popcorn, completely unaware that we were already doomed.
“I’ve never actually done sword-fighting, only forging. Do you have any weapons I can use?”
“That’s why I’m teaching you. Remember—this is my first time forging with someone.”
She smiled sweetly and handed me the hammer. “Then I’ll share our family’s secret technique with you alone. A Literature Club member like you should love the sword, right?”
Beatrice pointed at the club booth. The forge was already raging.
This booth belonged to the Literature Club’s president and club president—Beatrice herself.
The club’s name was “Star Iron and Milky Way.”
She stepped close, eyes sparkling like an innocent child, and whispered, “Our family’s Milky Way Smelting Method. Watch carefully. I’m only teaching this to you.”
Her innocent expression was almost heartbreaking.
“Sharing family secrets…! She’s casually using such underhanded tactics…!”
“Kids, maybe I should just disappear…”
“I can’t, President.”
The club members were all busy munching popcorn.
◆ ◆ ◆ ◆
There were many visits to the forge in my life. My existence was built on swords and battles. But this was my first time actually watching someone melt ore and forge a sword.
The “Star Iron and Milky Way” booth was noisy with hammer strikes. It had won first place at the festival for three years straight. A princess from one of the Four Great Ducal Families serving as club president—there was no shame in being popular.
Students and nobles gathered around Beatrice, all wanting to talk to her. My presence beside her only made it worse.
“But who is that girl next to her? She looks… different.”
“Sharp eyes, that one. I bet she’s his secret lover.”
“Eh?”
“He’s the hidden son of the Cross Family. Mysterious men are supposed to be scary, but this one is actually charming. I fell for him just like that.”
“???”
Of course, interest faded quickly once Beatrice mentioned her status as the Metallurgy Duke’s daughter. The nobles turned silent.
With our club members’ influence, the fake romance would end any day now. They were just eating popcorn for the show.
“So, boyfriend. Is everything ready?”
“The bellows are stoked as requested. What should I do next?”
“Nothing else. Just stand here and watch me work.”
Beatrice began selecting iron ore, her movements surprisingly precise for someone who had never been a real blacksmith. “Do you know what our Excelhand family is aiming for?”
“What?”
“Not a holy sword, but a blade that shines without it. Our family’s secret is creating holy swords from ordinary materials without even using star iron.”
Clink.
She had stopped pretending to be a pampered heiress. This was a real master of metallurgy.
“We’ve always wondered how to create a holy sword without star iron. Ordinary materials can’t surpass it. Ordinary sparks can’t become stars in the night sky.”
Once the selection was complete, she melted the ore and began shaping the sword core. I could only watch in awe.
“Using aura to strike the iron, the clean sound rang out. Some knights told me they picture images in their hearts and manifest them at the tip of the sword. This method was born from that inspiration.”
Ting.
It wasn’t the sharp ring of ordinary forging. It was clean, clear, and melodic—like two crystals ringing together. It was music that made the ears feel the soul.
One of the secrets passed down from the Four Great Ducal Excelhand Family—the Milky Way Smelting Method.
Beatrice stepped into the final stage. The glowing blade cooled rapidly, revealing its true form.
“When my family forges a sword, the image that always comes to mind is the same. Ordinary sparks flying upward, merging with the deep night sky. That moment when sparks become stars—that is the tradition.”
The image inside a master’s heart was surprisingly simple. Imagine sparks rising, and remember they could become stars.
After centuries, this image had become the symbol of the Excelhand family’s unyielding spirit. The blades born from it shone like holy swords even without star iron.
Beatrice handed me the finished sword core. “A perfect blade gives you a chance to engrave a name. You finish it. What should we name it?”
Her face was covered in soot, yet she looked strangely beautiful. She was staring at an unfinished blade as if it were already hers.
She had brought me here, had me forge it in front of everyone. The strategy was so obvious I almost laughed.
I was trying to think of a clever retort when I noticed Iris and the others watching from a distance. There was one name that suddenly came to mind.
“Grace,” I said. “How about Grace?”
“Grace? …Aha.”
She seemed to understand whom I was thinking of and smiled. “That’s a terrible guy. Using someone else’s name.”
My weak comeback earned a clever reply. “And every time you swing it, it will be my name you’re thinking of, right?”
Beatrice was not the type to just take it. We both laughed like idiots.
“We really are idiots, aren’t we?”
Beatrice answered honestly. “When you do what you love, everyone becomes an idiot.”
No lies needed.
The first day of the festival ended here.
Iris, watching the entire scene, broke down.
“S-Senpai… you’re… you’re actually copying a real harem romance on purpose…! You’re daring… daring to…”
“The sword’s name is Grace…? No way… me and… senpai… then…”
“President! You can’t just ignore that! Eeeek!”
She was pounding the ground and sobbing.