After two hours of waiting, I stood once more before the queen.
"So," she said, her gaze steady. "What do you say?"
I knew that question wasn't meant for me.
It was for Nyxios.
"What do I say?" I echoed, letting a small smile tug at my lips. "I say I won't be fighting for you… but my friend here will."
I gestured toward Lyarea.
A ripple of whispers spread through the hall—warriors and nobles leaning toward one another, voices hushed but restless.
"SILENCE."
The queen's voice cut through the chamber like a blade.
"Is this some kind of joke to you… human?" Her eyes narrowed. "If she's told you her little story, then you already know—she doesn't stand a chance against a devil. Weakest or not… it is still a devil."
My smile flickered, then settled into something quieter.
"Don't worry, Your Majesty," I said calmly. "Your younger sister—after I'm done with her—will be the strongest elf in this kingdom."
A pause.
Then—
"...Very well."
She exhaled, as if forcing patience into herself.
"If that is truly her wish, then so be it. The duel will take place one week from now, after the Celestial Celebration. You have until then to train her." Her gaze sharpened. "But hear me, human—no… indulgences until the match is over."
I couldn't help it. My smile widened.
"So what you're saying is… I can mess around with her after the duel?"
A faint smile answered mine.
"If she wins," the queen said, "then yes. As promised—she will still become your wife."
The Next Morning
A violent knock dragged me out of sleep.
I groaned, forcing myself upright, eyes still heavy. Wiping the drool from my face, I stumbled toward the door, nearly tripping over the carpet.
When I opened it—
Lyarea stood there.
Fully armored. Sword in hand. Wide awake.
"It's three in the morning," she said. "Let's train."
"…Three?" I blinked at her. "Are you serious? Why the hell would you wake me up this early?"
"Why else?" she said, smiling softly. "To train."
That smile… yeah, that woke me up faster than anything.
When she's not trying to act like a warrior… she's actually kind of cute.
"Gah… fine," I muttered. "Give me a minute."
"Thank you," she said, that same gentle smile lingering.
By the time we reached the training arena, I was still fighting sleep.
Lyarea, on the other hand, was talking non-stop—about defeating the devil, restoring her honor, proving herself.
I barely listened.
Something else had my attention.
A presence.
Faint—but unmistakable.
Something was moving through the shadows.
Not walking.
Slipping.
From one patch of darkness to another… like the shadows themselves were carrying it. Whispering. Guiding.
Watching us.
The arena was lit by lanterns and drifting fireflies, their glow soft against the cold air.
"So…" Lyarea turned to me, eyes shining. "What should I do first, Master?"
'Yes… what should she do first, Master?'
Nyxios materialized beside me, his voice amused.
"Oh—right. First…" I hesitated. "Put your sword away. Start by warming up."
Smooth. Very professional.
"I understand," she said immediately.
She set her sword down and began stretching, then jogging laps around the arena at my instruction.
While she ran, I picked up her blade and unsheathed it.
Light.
Elegant.
Elven craftsmanship.
Strange script ran along the metal—ancient, refined. A gemstone sat in the hilt, faintly gleaming.
"A classic elven blade…" I murmured, sliding it back into its sheath.
"That's enough," I called. "Come here."
She rushed over, breathing hard.
"I-Is that enough… for a warm-up?"
I smirked.
"Yeah. Now we start the real training."
Her eyes lit up.
"Great—can I have my sword back?"
"No."
She blinked.
"For now," I continued, stepping into a stance, "you fight me. Bare hands."
"B-But—"
"No excuses. Come at me."
She moved instantly.
A punch—sloppy.
I stepped aside.
Another—predictable.
I dodged again.
Again.
Again.
Fifteen minutes later—
She collapsed.
Gasping. Sweating. Exhausted.
"…That's it?" I said, looking down at her. "Fifteen minutes?"
I extended my hand.
"We've got a long way to go… don't we, princess?"
She took it, pulling herself up—and smiled.
"Give me my sword," she said, a spark of frustration in her voice. "Then I'll show you what I can really do."
"If you can't land a single hit on me," I replied evenly, "you don't deserve to wield a weapon meant to kill."
She paused.
Thought about it.
"…Fine," she said. "Then let's go again."
That surprised me.
"…We will," I said. "After a break."
"But we just started!"
"Exactly."
She frowned. "What does that mean?"
"You'll understand later."
I gestured toward the resting area.
After a brief pout, she turned and sat down.
'You two make quite the pair.'
Nyxios appeared beside me again, amused.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "I was wondering when you'd start talking again. Now—what was that earlier? That 'shadow step' thing?"
'Shadow Step,' he said, 'is the art of moving through shadows themselves.'
"…That sounds like nonsense."
'Then watch.'
He placed a foot into his own shadow—
—and fell into it.
Gone.
A heartbeat later—
He was behind me.
'Boo.'
I didn't even flinch.
"Teach me."