A Lifeline of Steel
"Wh-wha? H-hold on...!"
The sensation of another girl being so impossibly close was something I had never experienced in either of my lives. My voice hitched, and my entire body locked up on pure reflex.
In my previous life, I had walked the cursed path of an all-boys middle school, an all-boys high school, and an engineering college. Having a girl—and not just any girl, but my absolute favorite character—collapse against me, clinging with every ounce of her weight, was entirely beyond my frame of reference.
"U-um, are you all right?"
I barely managed to scrape my wits together and call out to her, but the only response was dead silence.
Caught halfway between utter bewilderment and genuine worry, I froze, terrified that making a single wrong move might harm her. Just then, Teacher Elin stepped over, gave Yelena a quick examination, and spoke.
"She simply collapsed from exhaustion. There is no need to worry."
Muttering softly under her breath, Elin lifted Yelena and laid her down on a bench in the corner of the training ground. She fished a key out of her pocket, then turned back toward me.
"She will likely wake in about three hours. Sian, could you speak with her when she does? Remind her that she is still young. She may be a Stigma Bearer, but pushing herself this recklessly will only bring harm in the long run."
"Wait, what about you, Teacher?"
"I have mountains of work waiting for me, so I must take my leave. The start of the semester is always dreadfully busy."
Her casual dismissal made my blood run cold.
Wait, hold on a second, Teacher! If you just leave the two of us alone like this, the awkwardness is going to kill me!
The grand total of our interactions so far consisted of me catching her when she tripped and a brief exchange right before our duel. Was it really wise to leave Yelena—a girl whose aristocratic pride towered above all else—alone with the very person who had just defeated her?
In the original game, third-year Yelena hadn't dwelled much on losses in sparring. But the person lying here wasn't that seasoned student. She was a younger, untempered Yelena, a version of the heroine that had never appeared in the game's canonical storyline.
Tucking the key away with a bright smile, Elin remained blissfully oblivious to the silent crisis burning inside my chest.
"Do not be too disappointed. Once midterms wrap up, my schedule should free up a bit. I may even have time to personally look over your swordsmanship."
Personal tutoring from a Swordmaster. It was an opportunity that any other student in the Swordsmanship Department would have given a fortune for, yet my expression remained stiff and troubled.
"...Thank you, Teacher."
"Heh. You truly are an interesting child, Sian. Until next time."
Leaving only those parting words behind, Elin strode out of the training grounds.
A sudden stillness settled over the hall. Amidst the quiet, the only sound was the steady, rhythmic cadence of Yelena's breathing. Desperate to shake off the suffocating awkwardness, I cast my eyes around the room.
To any gamer in the world, being left alone with their favorite character would have been a dream come true. To me, however, it felt like I had done nothing but rack up negative affection points with her from the very start. Trying to swing a sword right now with my mind in such disarray would do more harm than good. I needed something—anything—to keep myself occupied.
"Ah."
That was when my eyes fell upon the longsword resting on the floor.
Its hilt bore the worn, unmistakable traces of countless hours of relentless training. In stark contrast, the blade gleamed with an immaculate sheen, possessing a razor edge as pristine as the day it was forged.
Even someone completely ignorant of swordsmanship would have recognized it as a masterwork. Picking it up, I carefully sheathed the blade and placed it beside the bench, near Yelena's head.
The moment I set it down, the girl who had been sleeping in absolute stillness began to toss and turn.
"Wait, what...?"
"Nngh... Can't... let go of my sword..."
Regardless of how I flinched in surprise, Yelena's face twisted into an expression of acute agony as her hands blindly searched the empty air. She looked like a drowning castaway, desperately clawing for anything to keep her afloat.
"Yelena? Are you all right?"
"Ugh..."
I tried to swallow my panic and called out to her, but she answered only with a pained whimper. What in the world am I supposed to do here? I should have held onto Teacher Elin, no matter what—
Between the programmed heroine of a game and the living, breathing girl before me, there existed a gap I had never anticipated. And for a transmigrator who viewed this world through the lens of canonical game knowledge, that gap was terrifyingly unfamiliar.
"Nnh... ah."
While I stood frozen in confusion, Yelena's trembling fingertips finally brushed against the scabbard near her head. By instinct alone, she pulled the longsword tight against her chest, curling around it as she drifted back into slumber. In an instant, the torment on her face melted into peace, and her ragged breathing steadied. She held it as if that blade were her very life—no, as if it were something far more precious than life itself.
"Mmm..."
With a soft, unexpectedly adorable murmur, the remaining tension drained from her body. Was she having a good dream? The sharp, haughty slant of her eyes had softened completely, and a faint, serene smile graced her lips.
"Whew..."
Only then did I finally allow myself to let out a breath of relief.
In Arcana Academy, Yelena had been the textbook definition of an Ice Princess. What had originally made me fall for her character was a specific scene from the game—the moment she coldly sentenced a den of demon cultists to death while unleashing a terrifying blizzard around her. Yet the Yelena resting before my eyes was merely a seventeen-year-old girl, carrying a burden far heavier than her years.
Perhaps that was why a sudden thought crossed my mind: I wanted to understand her. Not the stoic, third-year top student from behind a computer screen, but the living, breathing Yelena Frost who could weep and smile. I found myself wanting to know the story of the girl right here.
"..."
Originally, I had never intended to meddle in the original plotline. This was a game where the heroines were capable of clearing the main story on their own, even without a protagonist. As far as I was concerned, ensuring my own survival was more than enough.
Dragged into this world against my will by a status window, without any grand goal or ambition, the academy was nothing more than a front-row seat to watch the characters of Arcana Academy. That was why I had lived aimlessly until now.
"That really was what I thought... wasn't it?"
Seeing Yelena Frost like this shattered the illusion. She wasn't an abstract heroine; she was just an ordinary girl. And the other heroines, the background extras—they were all real people living in this world, carrying real feelings, just like her.
Changing preordained destiny was the sole privilege of a transmigrator.
Armed with that privilege, I had the power to avert the tragic bad endings awaiting the cast. I had the knowledge to save students destined to die in horrific events. If I stood by as an idle spectator knowing people would die, only to watch my classmates' desks empty one by one... the guilt would crush me. It would feel like my fault. And more than anything, I never wanted to live with the kind of regret I carried from my past life, when all I ever did was run away.
Gazing quietly at Yelena, I brought order to my thoughts.
It was eight o'clock on the dot when Yelena finally stirred.
From what I had gathered, she hadn't eaten a single bite since yesterday. Just as I began contemplating whether I should gently wake her, a faint mumble drifted from the bench.
"Nngh..."
"Ah, you're awake?"
"Mmh...?"
Her eyes wandered groggily around the room before finally settling on me. Then, realizing her own posture—curled tightly around her sword on the bench—her eyes widened, pupils trembling in sheer mortification.
"Ah?"
"Uh... I didn't see anything, I swear...?"
In a fraction of a second, Yelena's face flushed as bright red as a ripe persimmon.
She hurriedly propped the sword against the wall and tried to force her signature impassive mask into place, but the fiery heat radiating from her cheeks refused to cooperate. Her eyes, usually burning with unshakeable confidence, swam with a chaotic swirl of embarrassment, unable to look directly at me.
"..."
"..."
Watching the pristine image of the Ice Princess shatter into a thousand pieces, I waited in silence for her to gather her composure.
"Ahem. Cadet Sian?"
It took a little time for Yelena to restore her usual demeanor—a smooth, emotionless mask that resembled an unfeeling automaton.
Only then did the awkward reality of my situation come rushing back. I had gotten on her bad side from our very first encounter. This was our first time interacting since our duel, and I couldn't begin to fathom what she thought of me.
"Ah, um... I'm really sorry! I wasn't trying to pry or anything—"
"Enough. I have no intention of reprimanding you."
Yelena cut through my stammering explanation like a blade. Having seamlessly reclaimed the icy composure I knew so well, she smoothed down her rumpled uniform and spoke.
"More importantly, your presence here is timely."
She walked over to the practice rack, pulling free a longsword and a one-handed training blade. Fastening the longsword to her belt, she tossed the one-handed sword toward me. As I caught the hilt, Yelena approached. Then, with that same detached, impassive expression, she sank to one knee before me.
"Teach me your swordsmanship."
"...Excuse me?"
Her abrupt action knocked every coherent thought straight out of my skull, leaving behind only a dazed squeak.
Now that the game had become reality, I had fully expected her behavior to diverge somewhat from the original script.
Still, this is way too different!
A silent scream echoed uselessly in my throat. My head spun with even greater chaos than when I had watched her writhing in her sleep. It took several long seconds before I could scrape together a response.
"...I am sorry, but I do not think I can do that."
"If it is gold you require, I can provide whatever sum you desire."
"That isn't the problem. I'm sorry."
Objectively speaking, when it came to pure technical skill with a blade, Yelena was already superior to me. The only reason I had won our duel was that she had spent her life fighting monsters, not other humans. What she lacked was interpersonal combat experience, not fundamental mastery. In a situation like this, me attempting to 'teach' her would only poison her development.
"Instead... I can cross blades with you every morning."
"You would...!"
"On one condition."
I raised my index finger, gently cutting off her rising excitement. To be honest, I wasn't sure if it was my place to interfere in Yelena's life when I still knew so little about her. Even so, there was one line that had to be drawn.
"No more reckless overexertion like today. If my training partner ends up injuring herself, it will break my heart."
With those words, I extended my hand toward Yelena.
"Do we have a deal?"