Instinctive Devotion
Every time their blades collided, a violent gust tore through the room, flashes of cold light searing the air.
To think pre-regression Rudeum was this powerful.
No, that wasn't it. It wasn't merely the Rudeum of before; this was the raw strength he had possessed all along.
He was only ever matching his pace to mine.
Besides, now that Hwama had found its master, the apocalyptic disaster had been prevented, leaving him with no reason to unleash such devastating force.
It's a relief the spirits recognize us and aren't attacking with everything they have, but the same goes for Father.
Because Rudeum's current state was the result of eating the ingredients Pelens had prepared, the Duke of Craitan was focusing on defense rather than offense.
"Fight properly before I dismiss your summoning," Rudeum warned coldly, his gaze narrowing at the spirit that was only half-heartedly going through the motions.
Whoa. A Rudeum who's that cold to his own spirits?
So this was what he had been like before the regression—a boy stripped of purpose, desperate merely to stay alive.
Spurred by his threat, the spirit reluctantly obeyed its summoner's command. Even the Duke of Craitan, parrying each strike with practiced ease, was gradually being forced back. It was the natural difference between a man fighting frantically to break free and another holding back to ensure no one was harmed.
"You utter idiot! Hey, Rudeum! You're going to seriously regret this!" Leaving Lefonya in Havelian's care, Pelens drew his weapon and lunged forward to aid the Duke.
"Ha. Desperately trying to keep me trapped here—I knew there was something suspicious about you."
There was no helping it.
"Brother Havelian," Lefonya said, resting a small hand on his shoulder.
Her family couldn't bear to harm Rudeum for her sake. Which meant the only person in this room who could make him stand down was…
"Leave it to me."
"What? Wait, Ponya! Lord Villemon doesn't even remember who you are right now…!"
Before he could finish, Lefonya dove forward in a fluid roll. Caught off guard by the sudden burst of motion, Rudeum instinctively whipped his head around and shot out a hand, clamping down on her shoulder.
The instant his grip landed, Lefonya moved as if she had been waiting for that exact moment. She snapped her torso backward, arching until both hands planted firmly against the floor.
Her reaction speed was inhuman.
"What—?!"
Shifting her center of gravity in a heartbeat, Lefonya hooked her legs around Rudeum's neck as his balance faltered. Pressing her knee hard against his windpipe, she twisted her entire body in a vicious corkscrew spin.
Thud!
Slammed violently against the floorboards, Rudeum blinked in utter bewilderment.
"……!!"
Completing a full midair rotation, Lefonya landed effortlessly on her feet, perfectly balanced. Living among her absurdly strong family meant she rarely had cause to step onto the front line, but Lefonya had survived at the very head of the pack in the Pope's brutal training. She had been called the 'First Daughter' precisely because she was the strongest.
It was hardly something to boast about, but she had never once failed a mission.
Rubbing his throbbing neck and face, Rudeum pushed himself up. As he closed the distance, Lefonya glided sideways to evade. The moment Rudeum pivoted to track her movement, she drove her knee upward straight toward his chin.
"Ugh."
Had he not scrambled to throw both hands up to block the rising knee strike, the blow would have caught his jaw flush and sent him crashing flat on his back. Sensing his stance wobble, Lefonya immediately dropped low, sweeping his ankles. Rising out of a seamless spin, she planted her foot onto his bent knee, vaulted upward, and struck his chest square with the heel of her palm.
When it came to raw reflexes and close-quarters hand-to-hand combat, she wouldn't lose to anyone in the room.
Smack!
Overwhelmed by her relentless flurry of strikes, Rudeum stared up at her with dazed, chaotic eyes. While summoning spirits could have easily halted her assault, strangely enough, the spirits refused to lay so much as a finger on Lefonya.
And Rudeum was no different.
The moment his eyes locked onto Lefonya's face, he froze as if paralyzed, unable to lift a hand against her. It was entirely contrary to the ferocity with which he had attacked the Duke and Pelens just moments ago.
"……."
After taking several consecutive hits and stumbling back, Rudeum let go of his grip and dropped his sword onto the floor. He simply stood there, blinking blankly at Lefonya.
Seeing that his wild hostility had evaporated, Lefonya halted her assault as well.
"…Whoa. Our Fluffball is terrifyingly strong."
"Our… youngest was hiding this kind of power?"
The effortless grace of her combos laid bare the kind of brutal life she had lived until now.
"Come to think of it, she beat me and made a run for it back then, too."
"Indeed. She managed to shake off the Craitan knights in the capital—and even slip past me. There was no way her skills were half-baked." The Duke of Craitan nodded in quiet satisfaction, looking down at Rudeum, who had been neutralized in the span of a breath.
Rudeum paid no heed to the murmurs around him. As if entirely bewitched, his gaze remained fixed solely on Lefonya.
Then, unexpectedly—
"My lady."
He sank gracefully onto one knee before her, his demeanor turning so profoundly polite and deferential that it was hard to believe he had been baring his fangs only moments earlier.
"May I ask for your name?"
Gazing up at her with an open, gentle expression, Rudeum gingerly reached out and took the tips of her fingers.
"Did getting knocked around by Fluffball beat some sense into him?"
"Or perhaps Lord Villemon's tastes are simply remarkably consistent."
"Hey, Rudeum." Pelens stepped forward, intending to tease the suddenly docile youth.
Instantly, the softness in Rudeum's eyes snapped into razor-sharp hostility. Sweeping a broad arm around Lefonya's waist, he pulled her tightly into his chest, stepping back while raising his weapon.
"Stay back."
His stance made it look as though he were shielding Lefonya from mortal enemies.
"Ha! He really has lost his mind!" Pelens sidestepped the blade with a loud, incredulous scoff.
Once a safe distance was secured, Rudeum reverted to his gentle demeanor as if nothing had happened, looking down at Lefonya tucked against his chest.
"My lady. Forgive my insolence, but… those things are impostors. They are dangerous."
"Who are you calling an impostor?!"
"I will protect you. Please do not leave my side."
His formal, perfectly courteous manner felt thoroughly alien.
To the current Rudeum, this must feel like our very first meeting.
It was a strange sensation. If they hadn't met as children and had instead crossed paths for the first time as grown adults, would he have spoken to her like this?
Lefonya reached up and brushed her fingers through his dark hair. His broad frame flinched slightly. Unused to such intimacy, he froze, neither pulling away nor daring to dodge her touch.
His utterly defenseless reaction was endearing.
"This feels… strange," Rudeum murmured. Docile as a tamed beast, he buried his face against Lefonya's shoulder, rubbing his cheek gently against her collar. "Could you… continue touching me like this, My Lady?"
A low, contented vibration rumbled deep in his chest.
"If you ask me, his memory is definitely back."
"Lord Villemon. If this is an act—"
The moment Havelian took a single step forward, Rudeum whipped his head around, veins bulging across the back of his hand as if he were ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Even the spirits, resonating with their master's hostility, bared their fangs to warn everyone against stepping any closer.
"We are in the very same room, yet we are impostors while Ponya is someone to be protected?" Duke Craitan muttered in utter disbelief.
Honestly, even I find this ridiculous.
If this was the pre-regression Rudeum, he would have at least recognized Havelian, Pelens, and the Duke from afar, whereas Lefonya should have been a complete stranger. If he was going to be suspicious of anyone, Lefonya should have been his prime suspect. Yet there wasn't a trace of wariness in the way he held her.
"Father, Brothers." Buried snugly within Rudeum's embrace, Lefonya peeked her head out. Rudeum tightened his arms around her, as if reluctant to let even her gaze stray toward them. "I'll nurse Rudeum. He's overwhelmed and disoriented right now, so it must be even harder on him."
Lefonya gently patted his shoulder to soothe him. Though his entire body remained stiff at the unfamiliar contact, the fact that he refused to pull away was adorable.
He wasn't lying when he said he had never met anyone else back then.
Lefonya offered a reassuring smile and shooed her family toward the door. "Could everyone please step outside?"
Pelens had to be dragged out by the scruff of his neck, shouting all the way down the hall, "Are you sure his memory isn't back? Hey! Fluffball! I'm telling you, that punk remembers everything!"
Once the three men had departed and only the two of them remained, Rudeum finally let down his guard, a sense of calm washing over his tense frame.
Pelens thinks his memories returned, but that's not it.
Lefonya stroked his dark locks, tracing the gentle line of his brow. Though he had grown obedient, she could tell he was fundamentally different from the Rudeum she knew.
Yet one thing remained utterly bewildering.
…He claims he doesn't remember a thing, so why does he look at me with those exact same eyes?
Remarkably, the warmth and devotion burning in his gaze were identical to before.
"My lady. How should I address you?"
"Lefonya. Lefonya Craitan. I'm the younger sister of Brother Havelian and Brother Pelens."
"…Lefonya, Craitan." Rudeum murmured the name repeatedly under his breath, rolling the syllables as if engraving them onto his tongue.
A Rudeum reverted to his pre-regression memories would only remember the direct Craitan lineage consisting of the Duke, Havelian, and Pelens. Having introduced herself with the Craitan surname and claimed to be their sister, Lefonya carefully watched his expression to see how he would process it.
He needs to accept this first before I can explain the rest.
She needed to tell him that this world was different from the one in his memories, and that the two of them were deeply in love.
After murmuring her name for what felt like an eternity, Rudeum lifted his head. Lefonya swallowed dryly, her chest tightening with nervous anticipation.
"It is a name as lovely as your face."
"Huh?"
"Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask… if I might call you by an affectionate nickname, My Lady?"
"…What?"