September 7, 550
Early in the morning, the sun rose, casting its light upon the shadows of the night as they slowly faded away.
Despite the early hour, in a wooden cottage in the countryside, the sounds of training could be heard coming from inside.
A young man wielding two daggers moved with great speed, surrounded by an almost transparent white aura of mana to bolster his physical abilities. A blonde girl, also holding two daggers in her hands, moved alongside him; their fighting styles appeared nearly identical.
Their weapons clashed, sparks flying as the two stared at each other competitively, smiling. The blonde girl kicked the boy in the stomach, sending him stumbling back a few steps.
"This time, I won't lose to you…"
The young man didn't seem to care about the girl's words; he lunged at her again, aiming his blade at her shoulder, but she parried it with her own blade. Sparks flew once more, but the man's physical superiority was clear, and the girl began to retreat under his momentum.
The girl wouldn't let it go on like this, so she tried to break the lock with a strike from her blade, but this time the young man let his blade drop, then struck the girl's wrist hard enough to make her drop her blade and stumble a step back, throwing his other blade.
"What, you want a physical fight now? You've got it…"
The girl said as she threw the blade, then clutched the spot where she'd been struck on her wrist with some pain, before assuming a fighting stance and gesturing for him to come closer.
The young man didn't back down; he attacked with a punch, but the girl dodged it as she advanced toward him with a punch of her own aimed at his face. The young man anticipated the blow and raised his hand to block it, barely managing to deflect the powerful punch, which sent a gust of wind flying in all directions from the force of the impact.
The young man grabbed the hand of the girl who had punched him, then twisted it, causing her to turn involuntarily. He wrapped his arm around her neck. The girl opened her mouth in surprise, feeling the young man's breath on her neck and his muscular chest pressing against her back.
In fact, sensitive parts pressed against her buttocks from below, causing her to blush slightly as she whispered, "A-Athtar… "
"What? Margaret..."
"You... are too close.... Wait, aren't we just practicing?"
"Does that matter? You'll always end up like this in the end, surrendered in my arms..." "
Margaret wanted to answer him, but the position in which Athtar was pressing against her from behind was driving her crazy. She finally opened her mouth to reply, but when she felt his tongue slip toward her ear and lick it, it was as if she'd been struck by electricity, and her body trembled for a moment.
"You... you're being unfair! How dare you treat your teacher with such rudeness in the middle of training?" "
Athtar let go of Margaret, placing both hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. Now that his features were clear, he looked to be about eighteen, standing over 190 cm tall. Margaret seemed short next to him; her head didn't even reach his shoulders.
"I'm old enough now… my teacher… no… Margaret… I'm a grown man now, and I want you… "
Under Athtar's determined gaze, Margaret felt herself melt a little. He had been just a little boy years ago, and she hadn't even thought of him that way. When had he grown up to love her like this? Had she raised him wrong? Margaret had always had these thoughts, but once she started seeing him as a man, that was the point of no return for her.
"But we're… relatives… maybe…"
"So what? I don't care about something like that…" "
"B-but I'm almost thirty… and you're still in the prime of your youth…"
"I love you just the way you are… Margaret… "
Margaret closed her eyes; if she kept looking into his eyes, at his handsome face, she didn't know what might happen. She placed her hand on his, hesitating slightly, then whispered, "But you're not even eighteen yet… we can't…"
"There are only a few days left…" "
"Then... I'll think about it then!" Margaret finally seemed to come to her senses and pushed Athtar away, who looked as if he'd finally decided to back down.
"Until then, we're still just teacher and student! If you understand, let's go home now—we haven't had breakfast yet…"
"All right, my teacher…" "
After a long silence, Athtar sighed, bent down, picked up his weapons, sheathed them at his waist, and turned to head back home.
Margaret stood there staring at Athtar's back as he walked back home, then placed both her hands between her legs, feeling that area a little. Her cheeks flushed as she said, "Maybe I should change my clothes…"
…
During the meal, Margaret and Athtar sat facing each other. Athtar ate in silence, staring at his plate, while Margaret stirred her spoon absentmindedly. Athtar noticed this and stopped eating.
"Hmm… Teacher? What's wrong? You seem distracted…"
Margaret heard Athtar's voice and looked at him briefly, her cheeks flushed, and replied quickly, "Oh, I was thinking about where we should go now."
Athtar understood what she meant and said in a weak voice as he looked at her, "We're so far from home… The Phillips won't be chasing us anymore. Maybe they've already forgotten about you… And I… I told you I don't want revenge anymore…"
Margaret looked away for a moment as she placed her hand on the table, nodding quietly toward Athtar.
Athtar placed his hand on Margaret's and squeezed it gently as he looked at her. "No matter what happens… Margaret, I will protect you! So you don't need to worry about that anymore… Even if it's Prince Arthur, or the King of Demons—anyone who tries to hurt you, I'll take care of them…" "
Margaret smiled as she held his hand and looked at him tenderly. "Look at you acting like a man. I miss those times when you were the one asking for my protection…"
Athtar's face flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I was a child back then, but now I'm old enough to protect you…"
Margaret sighed, then said with a determined look as she stared at Athtar, "I appreciate your kind words, Athtar, but promise me one thing: whoever it is—whether the King of Demons or Prince Arthur—no matter what happens, don't you dare confront them. Do you understand me?" "
Athtar's gaze grew slightly stern as he looked at Margaret, waiting for her to finish her sentence.
"Those two are extremely powerful; neither of them can be touched."
Margaret fell silent, as if recalling something that had happened to her a long time ago—perhaps even before she met Athtar.
"I witnessed the Demon King's power with my own eyes. I was lucky to have survived. The Demon King is very powerful, and very strange… And Prince Arthur is no less powerful than him. Isn't he said to be the boy of the prophecy who can kill the Demon King? That's why no one else can match their power, no matter what happens. To that extent, this world is unfair, Athtar. No matter how brilliant you are, you'll never reach their level… "
Margaret knew exactly what words Athtar would say even before he spoke them, so she cut him off before he could form a single, detailed response.
Athtar kept a serious expression on his face as he nodded at her. When she saw he was convinced, Margaret relaxed, her facial expressions softened, and she smiled at him. "You're a good boy. I'm sure you understand, Athtar…"
...
Back in the Kingdom of Kayvan
Specifically, in the grand royal palace's throne room, a gathering of men and women representing the kingdom's nobility had assembled.
Their hair colors varied—blonde, blue, and red—representing the three families: the Phillips, the Harleys, and the Michels.
As for those with black hair, they represented the Jones family; they were a small minority gathered in a corner of the hall, as if they were a group of intruders.
Rosel Phillips, King of the Kingdom of Kayvan, looked around him in silence, his expression tinged with sadness as he said, "It has now been more than 15 years since the disappearance of my beloved niece Margaret… the woman who was supposed to become queen before the birth of my beloved son and the boy of the prophecy, Arthur."
The crowd, who had been talking, fell silent and looked at Rosel without asking any questions. The king glanced around at everyone, then at his brother, who was looking down, noting his clenched fist as he forced himself to stay composed.
" "But we were fortunate, for one of our informants discovered the existence of a fair-haired sorceress who hunts monsters and demons and has emerged over the past five years, and we have finally found her. On this joyous occasion, I have decided, with the consent of my dear younger brother, to marry my son Arthur to her!"
Rosel's words were clear and direct; it took the crowd only a few moments before they began to applaud and congratulate Prince Arthur on his upcoming marriage.
A woman with blue hair stepped forward, wearing a beautiful blue dress that was open at the chest, revealing the two massive, milky mounds of her breasts, flaunting their size. Those breasts trembled and jostled against each other every time she moved, causing many men to gaze at her with admiration.
"Your Majesty, it is a joyous occasion to hear of the marriage of our beloved Prince Arthur, but why isn't the star of the show here yet?"
Rosel smiled as he looked at the woman. "Good question. I have already sent my son to search for Margaret, and he must be bringing us the happy news soon…" "
"Oh... I see... Then we shall wait in silence for news from His Highness the Prince upon his return."
As far as the crowd and the king were concerned, the mere fact that Prince Arthur had been sent on a mission meant that it was simply over. The child of the prophecy, said to be the only one capable of defeating the Demon King—all those rumors spoken of him were no joke at all.