Boom! The Lunar Garden and the Iron Leash
Kwang—!Kwagagagang! A deafening explosion tore through my eardrums like a savage assault. My modest respite—a peaceful weekend afternoon spent sipping black tea leisurely by the parlor window—shattered into pieces with that single thunderous boom. A monstrous earthquake, easily magnitude seven or more, shook the entirety of the Astrea Ducal Residence's grand estate.
The teacup on the table rolled to the floor and smashed to bits, while priceless masterpieces hung on the walls screamed as they tumbled down in a cascade. Instinctively, I dropped low and peered out the window. The ducal family's pride, the rear garden meticulously crafted over a lifetime by the continent's finest landscaper—that was the first thing that filled my view. A massive pillar of earth shot up like a fountain toward the sky, shrouded in a veil of acrid dust.
"Haa...." I pressed my forehead and let out a deep sigh.
I didn't need to check to know it wasn't an enemy raid. In this world's lore, no force bold enough—or foolish enough—to storm the Astrea Ducal Residence's main estate existed.
As the dust cloud slowly settled, the garden's devastation came into view, beyond anything imaginable. Ancient behemoths that must have stood for centuries had their thick trunks sliced clean off like wheat. The garden, once brimming with rare, top-grade rose varieties airlifted from the southern continent, was now pockmarked with enormous craters, resembling the moon's surface.
At the epicenter of that horrific, overwhelming destruction stood a silver-haired girl, rooted in the middle of a massive, steaming crater. The top student I'd been shadowing for ten straight years—the ultimate troublemaker, Reina de Astrea.
She dangled her massive holy sword Hesperos—as tall as she was—in one hand with effortless nonchalance, staring blankly at the floating debris of tree branches suspended in the air. The dense purple gravitational pull emanating from the blade's edge made her lush silver hair and dress hem flutter, defying gravity's laws entirely.
Stepping over chunks of crumbled marble statues, I descended slowly into the crater below. The space around her, gripping that holy sword barehanded and defenselessly, was a walking catastrophe on the verge of eruption. Enduring the prickling waves of mana scraping my skin, I opened my mouth.
"Reina."
The moment I called her name, pushing through the choking dust, her shoulders twitched. The hazy purple eyes that had been vacantly fixed on the shattered branches suddenly sparkled with star-like vitality.
"Cadel?"
A radiant smile bloomed across her face upon spotting me—a pure, innocent teenage girl's joy at seeing a dear friend. Impossible to believe this was the destroyer who'd just atomized the garden moments ago.
"What are you doing here?"
To my dry question, Reina nudged a pitiful rose stem rolling on the ground with her toe and answered flatly.
"Dad said some important guests from the imperial court are coming next week, so trim the messy tree branches in the garden to make it look nice."
"...So you grabbed that monstrous holy sword Hesperos instead of scissors or a saw and went full deforestation?"
"Yeah. Super clean cut."
"You drove the trees to extinction—what's clean about that? I said trim the branches, not remodel the terrain. Now I've got a migraine just thinking about the restoration budget for this garden."
I pressed my throbbing temples and clicked my tongue. In my ten years rolling as a K-high school teacher, I'd dealt with every kind of disaster student, but none had ever 'beautified' the schoolyard by cratering it—not even in my past life.
As I rubbed my forehead, mentally crunching this month's ducal repair budget, a thunderous roar erupted from above the crater. From the half-wrecked garden terrace—now just a skeletal pillar—a beastly wail of despair burst forth.
"Rowen, my brother! Please! Save our Reina!"
Lifting my head, I saw a hulking giant—shoulder span easily a meter—clutching the terrace railing, howling in agony. Scars like beast claws webbed from his nape to forearms: the empire's shield, the continent's strongest swordsman, Duke Leonhardt of Astrea.
The terrifying warrior rumored to rip enemy throats out barehanded on the battlefield was now blubbering like a child, tears streaming as he surveyed the razed garden.
"Waaah! At this rate, the Astrea line ends with my daughter! This morning she halved the table with a knife, then couldn't find the door out of her room and smashed straight through the wall into the parlor! How do I tame that terrifyingly pure instinct for destruction?!"
"Don't make a fuss, Leonhardt. Be grateful she only smashed the wall and not the whole castle...."
A bone-dry, cynical voice cut in beside the sobbing duke—er, parent. My father, Baron Rowen Evans, leaned casually against the terrace's remaining railing. Dark circles plunged from under his eyes nearly to his chin; he drew deeply on his smoldering leaf cigarette, exhaling a long plume of acrid smoke. Through it, his face screamed chronic overwork, soul-deep exhaustion.
"Quit whining. Remember when you, at nineteen, got lost on your first subjugation and burned half the elf forest? I pulled two all-nighters groveling to merchant lords for loans to cover that insane compensation. Compared to that, your daughter's nobility incarnate, you walking disaster."
"Guh...! Th-that's my dark history!"
The duke's lips quivered, speechless under Father's icy fact-bomb. Then, steeling himself, he leaped from the ruined terrace with a thud, striding toward me with earth-shaking steps. Dust trembled under his massive footfalls. His giant shadow engulfed my head, then his rough, pot-lid palm engulfed both my hands.
"Cadel...!"
Tears welled in the duke's scarred eyes, imperial swordmaster's dignity long discarded.
"Cadel... Reina turns eighteen in days. The palace is itching to throw her on the front lines. But you know she's... she's an idiot—no, innocent—who can't tell a sword's edge without help!"
He shook my hands desperately, sniffling snot.
"Be Reina's exclusive squire!"
"Please! Make her act human with your close watch!"
"Accept, and I'll give House Evans half my personal territory revenue—half—permanently!"
Half the territory revenue. My past life's capitalist soul perked up at the staggering sum. But ten years of high school trenches had honed my survival instincts; alarms blared in my brain, slapping sense into me.
This wasn't about money. Shadowing that 'human bulldozer' who moonscaped gardens solo, 24/7? It meant grinding my lifespan and sanity as the empire's dam. No amount of cash justified a second overwork death.
"...Your Grace."
Composed and polite, I gently pried his iron grip from my hands.
"I'm thrilled for Lady Reina's eighteenth birthday. But I'm just a baron's heir, lacking the prowess to stand beside a frontline-sweeping hero. She has elite knights...."
"Cadel."
My polite refusal was sliced short by Father, who'd leaped down from the terrace to my back. Turning, I met his eyes—piercing cold and resolute through the cigarette haze.
"This isn't your choice."
He stepped forward, bony hand on my shoulder. Rough, protruding knuckles, but its weight dwarfed the duke's brute force—profoundly heavy, bitterly so.
"Astrea blood is a mad carriage, generation after generation: brakes and controls utterly broken."
"Spewing overwhelming power, blind to direction, barreling toward ruin."
"Without someone wrenching those reins with their life, not just them—the whole empire tumbles off the cliff."
Father's gaze drifted past my shoulder to Reina, blankly holding her sword, then back to me.
"I was that brute Leonhardt's reins."
"My father, the previous duke's."
"And you? Marked as Reina's from birth."
"This is House Evans' cursed karma—and untouchable pride."
Silence weighed on me. Memories overlapped: past-life principal slapping my shoulder each semester, "Class 3-3 needs Mr. Lee—only you can handle those delinquents," his smug face blurring onto Father's wrinkled one.
Doomed in both lives to clean up problem kids.
Sigh.
As I resigned with a breath, the quick-witted duke slipped a scroll into my chest pocket. Bound in premium parchment, the bottom bore the Astrea ducal golden seal, crisp in red wax—irrefutable.
Retirement: Grant of prime territory near the First Capital.
Lifetime Pension: 50 platinum coins monthly, guaranteed.
Expenses: All clothing and food costs during duties 100% reimbursable by the ducal house.
"...If it's inescapable fate, a wise heir pockets the fat pension and accepts gracefully."
I snatched the scroll without further resistance, tucking it deep in my uniform. Father's stern lips finally curved in faint relief. The duke collapsed to the dirt, bawling "Saved! Astrea's saved!" while wiping tears.
Clutching the hefty contract, I turned to Reina in the crater's heart, sword in hand, staring blankly our way.
"Listen up, troublemaker."
"As of today, I'm your official exclusive squire."
"Next month, we enroll together at the academy. I'll shadow your every breath, bite, swing, and snooze like a ghost."
Reina's wind-swayed form froze. Her purple eyes gazing up trembled faintly, pupils dilating unnaturally vast. Over her emotionless weapon-face spread an unstoppable, searing heat.
"Really? With me all the time? All day?"
"Yeah. Glued tight—I'll monitor sauce on your buttons at meals to wall-smashing when lost. Brace yourself."
Before my indifferent decree finished—
"Cadel—!!!"
Reina flung Hesperos to the ground with a crash! The earth crumbled again, but she ignored it. Explosive leap pierced the dust; she plunged fiercely into my arms.
Crack! Crunch!
"Guhk...!"
Breath choked off; lungs crushed. Neck and ribs screamed in agony.
"H-hey, ease... ease up! You maniac...!"
"Yes! So good, Cadel! Stay by my side. Nowhere else. I'll protect you. I'll protect you forever—just stay by me!"
Her scorching body heat seeped through, neck crushed in her embrace. Amid suffocating pain, her bare fingers clutching my shirt hem trembled anxiously. White-knuckled grip, bloodless—vowing never to let go.
World's mightiest power, yet crumbling without me: grotesque, blind attachment.
As oxygen faded my vision, memories surfaced: ten years ago, first meeting that ferocious little beast. The true dawn of this damned karma—chilly winter day she seized my tiny sleeve, handing me her leash willingly.