— KAAAN!
A sharp, satisfying sound rang through the night garden, echoing off the stone walls and dissipating into the darkness beyond.
The training dummy—a straw-filled canvas form shaped roughly like a human torso—split cleanly in half under my blade's edge. The two pieces toppled to either side with soft thumps against the packed earth, releasing the faint scent of dried grass and old fabric into the cool night air.
"Phew. I guess that's enough for today."
After smashing my twelfth training dummy of the night, I exhaled and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. The moisture was cool against my skin, already chilling in the night breeze that rustled through the carefully manicured hedges surrounding the training grounds.
When I first came out here, some of the guards were still around—their torches casting dancing shadows, their voices carrying across the courtyard as they joked and complained about the upcoming event preparations. But now there was no one else but me. Just the sound of wind through leaves and my own breathing, gradually slowing from exertion.
The bell marking the end of the day rang at nine, and I came here shortly after. I've probably been here around two hours—so it must be past eleven by now. The moon had shifted significantly across the sky, a silver crescent barely visible through wisps of cloud.
Normally, I would stay another hour or so, pushing myself until my muscles screamed and my magic reserves ran dangerously low. But since Erica's birthday celebration is tomorrow, I decided to stop here for the night. I needed to be in peak condition, not exhausted and fumbling.
"But still, my movements are definitely getting better."
I rolled my shoulders, testing the fluidity of motion. No stiffness, no hesitation. The sword felt like an extension of my arm rather than a tool I wielded.
I've been swinging a sword ever since I can remember in this life—first with sticks in the orphanage yard, then with practice blades under the manor guards' tutelage. And I think it's starting to show.
Sometimes I spar with the guards, and I win about half the time now.
If I can win against people who do this for a living, that's pretty impressive, I think. Especially considering I'm still only ten years old, still growing into a body that will hopefully gain another foot of height and considerable muscle mass.
Well, they might be going easy on me since I'm a kid, and in an actual life-or-death fight, it could be completely different. Real combat has no rules, no mercy, no pause button. The thought sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air.
But it's not useful to worry about that right now. Better to focus on measurable improvement than phantom scenarios.
I dismantled the magically created sword with another spell—the stone blade crumbling to dust that scattered on the wind—and quickly cleaned up the area. The destroyed dummies went into a pile for the grounds crew to deal with in the morning. I wiped down the practice weapons, checked that the training area gate was properly secured.
Just as I was about to head back to the mansion, my muscles pleasantly tired and my mind finally quiet—
"Liam."
A clear, dignified voice suddenly called my name.
The sound cut through the night like a bell, making my heart jump into my throat. I spun around, instinctively dropping into a defensive stance before my conscious mind caught up.
"Eh—Lady Erica!?"
The person who came into view was my friend and mistress herself, stepping out from the deep shadows cast by an ornamental pillar. The moonlight caught in her rose-gold hair, turning it into something luminous and otherworldly. She wore a nightgown covered by a silk robe—pale blue that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness—and her feet were clad in delicate slippers completely unsuitable for the rough stone of the training grounds.
Her sudden appearance made me jump back in surprise, my heel catching on a loose stone.
"S-Since when were you here…?"
"Since always… is what I'd like to say, but actually only a little while ago."
I didn't notice her at all…
The darkness didn't help—the training grounds' torches had burned low, leaving only scattered pools of light—but even so, I couldn't sense her presence one bit. Had the cursed magic gotten stronger? Could she suppress her aura now, hide herself even from someone actively alert?
"And why are you out here so late? You'll catch a chill, you know?"
The temperature had dropped significantly since sunset. I could see my breath misting in the air, could feel the cold creeping through my training clothes now that I'd stopped moving. Her robe looked thin, decorative rather than functional.
"If I do, then you'll warm me up… won't you?"
Her voice carried something I couldn't quite identify—something between hope and challenge. Those crystalline blue eyes reflected moonlight as she gazed at me steadily.
…Well, yeah. I can use spells to raise someone's body temperature or conjure a bit of fire. Basic elemental magic, taught to every child capable of channeling mana.
But Erica should be able to use that level of magic herself. She was far more talented than I was in raw magical power, even if her element was cursed rather than conventional.
"Besides, Liam—you haven't been spending much time with me lately."
Erica pouted slightly, looking displeased. The expression transformed her usual elegant composure into something younger, more vulnerable. Her lower lip jutted out just enough to be noticeable, and her brows drew together.
By the way, ever since I officially became her servant three years ago, she has been calling me without honorifics. No more "Lord Liam"—just my name.
Well, it would be weird if the mistress addressed her servant with "sir," so it makes sense. Status dictated these things, even when friendship transcended them.
…but have we really not been seeing each other that much?
…but have we really not been seeing each other that much?
I mean, yes, I've been busy and we haven't been together constantly, but we do see each other at least once a day and exchange a few words.
"Is that so?"
"It is. You're my ... —my servant, after all. Shouldn't you be with me all the time?"
"I would love to do that, but…"
Work has been overwhelming. I simply didn't have much free time. The party preparations had consumed every waking hour, left me spread so thin I could barely manage my own basic needs.
But that's an adult's reasoning—the logic of someone who'd lived one life already, who understood responsibility and obligation. She's still young—still only ten despite her unusual maturity—she might not fully understand that work could be this all-consuming.
"…However, it's all for tomorrow. For the sake of celebrating your birthday, Lady Erica."
I stepped toward her, intending to take her hand in the gesture that had become our private sign of connection and promise. But then I noticed my palm—dirty with sweat and grime from training, the skin rough and calloused.
I quickly stopped mid-motion, pulled out my usual white gloves from my pocket—always kept there for exactly these situations—and slipped them on. The fabric was soft, clean, properly appropriate for touching nobility.
Erica's eyes widened for a moment at my approach, though she quickly looked away, acting nonchalant.
…She used to turn bright red at moments like these.I guess she's built up some resistance over these three years.
That's a little sad.
"Yes… Tomorrow is a very important day."
"Indeed. I plan to shower you with so much celebration you'll get tired of it, so prepare yourself."
"Hehe… Then I'll look forward to it."
She smiled, looking genuinely happy.
Well, after seeing that smile, I have no choice but to do my best tomorrow.
"Anyway, it's cold out here. Shall we head back?"
"Y-Yes… let's."
I passed by her and began walking toward the manor.
The wind was strong tonight. If we weren't careful, we'd catch a cold.
"Um…"
Her voice reached me—but it felt strangely distant.
I turned around. She was still standing exactly where she'd been.
"…Is something wrong?"
She looked down slightly, fidgeting, glancing up at me with… what, embarrassment?
"I-I was wondering… if tomorrow… perhaps…"
Her lips moved, but no words came out.
It was too dark to read them.
She clearly wanted to say something, so I waited a moment—
"N-no, never mind! It's nothing at all. I look forward to tomorrow!"
She put on a smile as if nothing had happened and hurried over to me in little steps.
Then she simply walked past me.
"? …Alright."
I didn't understand what she meant, but if she chose not to say it, then that's that.
Maybe someday she'll finish that sentence.
Shaking off the moment, I followed after her toward the warm lights of the manor.
..........................................
By the way, I did cast a warming spell on her to prevent her from getting chilled.
For some reason, she gave me a face that said, "That's not what I meant at all."
Apparently, I'd done something wrong again.