Thump-Thump: Ariel's Heartbeat
Thump-thump. The sound of her heart echoed deafeningly loud. That ticklish, suffocating feeling was unbearable. It was just a touch of hands, nothing more. They used to embrace freely, sharing even the most embarrassing conversations without hesitation.
...Of course, the love she shared with Leon had been bound solely by contract. A crude arrangement meant to provoke the crown prince's jealousy. But over time, its meaning had twisted into something else entirely.
"...Hoo, haa..."
'...Why on earth am I like this?'
She struggled to steady her dizzy mind and gripped her rapier. Thankfully, holding the sword calmed her a bit. Her flushed ears were still burning red, unhidden, but Leon was gazing at her with focused eyes locked on the match.
Entertaining personal feelings mid-spar was dishonorable for a knight. She sharpened her gaze on the man before her once more.
"...Leon."
"..."
When Ariel called his name, he slowly met her eyes. A surge of elation washed over her. You live before my eyes, and I live before yours.
"...Are you prepared?"
"..."
This fact alone was more precious to her than anything—precious beyond words. That was enough. Just that.
'It's been a while since we crossed swords like this.'
Bang!!
Leon was in earnest. Heavy strikes poured down on Ariel, but she focused solely on deflecting them.
If asked to name the empire's ten strongest swordsmen, the Leon and Ariel from her previous life would have made the list. Ariel knew his talent better than anyone.
The aura manipulation and swordsmanship learned from his father, the Mercenary King Himmel. Coupled with judgment beyond his years, cool and precise. He had been the duke's lover, her sharpest sword, her sturdiest shield.
...But he was still young.
Clang!!
"...Ugh."
Leon, pushed back by sheer power, retreated with his sword humming in his grip. He was only twelve, after all. Ariel had years of honed technique and experience; Leon was merely a promising novice just starting out.
Like with Daniel, Leon's blade never once touched her. Step by step, he was forced back. Straining to match her speed overtaxed his body, leaving his lungs burning as he gasped for air.
"...Let's end it in one strike."
He said it to the girl before him. Not a pathetic plea born of defeatism, but a burning will to win—acknowledging the gap in skill, yet wanting to finish strong for the spectators.
Understanding, Ariel paused briefly before nodding.
"...Alright."
"......"
She accepted readily. Confidence from superior skill? Even with such prowess, did her nobility let her scorn her opponent? One could call it the lament of commoners, losers' gripes... but Leon simply despised that mindset.
The match reeked of defeat. Leon squeezed out his last strength and swung at the girl before him. No regrets. Losing to the strong was no shame for a knight.
That was what Leon truly believed.
Until his spar with the duke ended in shocking fashion.
"Leon oppa?"
"...Yeah, Lena."
"...Seriously. I told you to keep watching...!!"
He had nothing to say. But after sparring with his father all night, fighting off sleep was tough.
"...So you summoned a spirit."
"Yeah!"
"From an old book you dug up in the library. Self-taught?"
"Well, thanks to you, I can even get in there."
He was momentarily speechless. Three years ago already. Using the imperial gold plaque—the prize for throwing the semifinal against the crown prince.
...He hadn't wanted to tarnish the tournament's honor, but in the end, he was no different from them. With Father's leg preventing work and Mother's side gigs barely enough, he had no choice but to accept.
Anyway. It was like a VIP pass for imperial access—handy for outings or tricky spots.
"...Fine, I gave you the pass. But... Lena. Do you even know what spirit magic is...?"
"...What do you take me for?"
...She was still just thirteen. Quirky at times, but with silver hair and purple eyes like their mother Catherine, she suited them perfectly.
"Hah, this won't do. Let me see."
I watched my sister's antics with smug amusement. If she was putting on a show right in front of me, how could I not watch?
Lena tied her hair with a ribbon, flipped open the book with brimming confidence, stacked three small stones into a mini tower, placed her hand on it, and began chanting from the page.
"اے روح، اپنے مالک کی بات سنو!"
⟨ Spirit, heed your master's call! ⟩
'...Ancient tongue?'
My eyes widened. The intonation matched what that spirit mage uncle—Father's old comrade who once dropped by—had recited idly long ago. How had she mimicked ancient language so well? My surprise grew—
Poof!
.....Huh?
My jaw dropped as I stared at the blue lifeform before me. The spirit Lena summoned was tiny and translucent, like a glowing water droplet with a faint azure hue.
"What do you think? Her name's Aqua!"
Grinning triumphantly, Lena pointed at Aqua like she'd known it all along.
"...Did you tell Father?"
"Huh? Yeah, right after it worked yesterday. He was thrilled."
"...What'd he say?"
Deflated by my serious tone, Lena mumbled.
"...Um, he said okay, he'd think about it...?"
"....."
Did Lena even grasp what she'd done?
A mage. A rare spirit mage at that. But lowborn mages rarely met good ends. Without academy education from youth, using magic strained the body.
The academy was open to all who passed the exam, but the fees? Only merchant heirs or nobles could afford them.
"...Impressive."
I ruffled Lena's hair, pondering quietly. The crown prince's payout: 20,000 francs.
'Academy tuition's 10,000 a year. That covers two.'
Parents must be agonizing. I cut sword practice short and headed home early.
Catherine and Himmel's faces were grim. Lena awakening to magic from a basic spirit tome was joyous, but it birthed major worries.
Spirit mages were elite anywhere—but only for nobles. Lowborn success bred resentment from elites.
Magic towers demanded academy diplomas. Non-grads became dungeon mercs or, if lucky, noble scouts. Good infrastructure was for the wealthy. Lena had none of it.
'Can't even protect my own family, yet...'
Himmel regretted donating most war earnings to soldiers. He had savings, but most were Leon's. Using them without permission for Lena? No—and he knew Leon dreamed of knighthood despite claiming mercenary work.
"I'm home, Father."
As Himmel brooded, Leon entered the cabin with a letter from the mailbox.
"...What's that letter?"
"Dunno. It was in the mailbox."
"....."
Himmel eyed the fancy envelope skeptically. High-quality paper, not ordinary mail. He slit it open and read. His expression grew peculiar.
"...Leon."
"Yes?"
Leon glanced curiously, then scanned the letter.
I am Raymond Schwartz, headmaster of the academy. Regretting that your exceptional skills go untapped, I wish to assist your special admission to the empire's sole premier academy—fully waived.
— Raymond Schwartz
".....Huh."
What the hell is this?