The Third Prince raised the ceremonial sword with elegant form. The blade caught the morning light in a clean, aristocratic arc.
Reina still did not draw her wooden katana.
Elias watched from the edge of the crowd, arms loosely crossed, the cut on his cheek still stinging. He could feel the weight of every gaze in the courtyard, the floating recording crystals, the held breath of the lesser nobles who had come to watch a soft-hearted woman be publicly broken.
They were about to be disappointed.
The Third Prince moved first.
He was fast—royal training showed in the precision of his footwork and the clean line of his thrust. The ceremonial sword flashed toward Reina's shoulder in a strike meant to look graceful while still drawing blood.
Reina stepped aside.
It was not a desperate dodge. It was a quiet, almost lazy shift of weight, as if she were simply adjusting her stance for comfort. The blade passed through empty air. Before the Third Prince could recover, the wooden katana finally left its sheath.
One stroke.
The sound was soft, almost polite—a single clean *crack* of wood against metal. The ceremonial sword flew from the prince's hand and spun across the white stone path, clattering to a stop at the feet of one of his own knights.
Silence.
The Third Prince stared at his empty hand.
Reina's voice remained calm.
"Again."
Anger flushed the prince's face. He snatched a second blade from the other knight and came in harder this time, a flurry of cuts and thrusts that would have overwhelmed most mid-rank warriors.
Reina met every strike with the wooden katana.
She did not retreat. She did not even look hurried. Each block and redirect was precise, economical, almost gentle—until the moment she decided the exchange had lasted long enough.
Her wooden blade tapped the prince's wrist.
The second sword joined the first on the ground.
Then she stepped in.
What followed was not a duel.
It was a demonstration.
Reina's movements blurred. The wooden katana became a continuous, flowing line of force. She struck the Third Prince's shoulder, his ribs, the side of his knee, the flat of his thigh—each impact measured, controlled, and devastating. Bone did not break, but the prince's body folded under the cumulative force. He staggered, tried to raise his arms, and was driven to one knee by a single downward stroke that stopped a hair's breadth from his collarbone.
The courtyard was dead silent except for the prince's ragged breathing.
Elias's dark eyes narrowed slightly.
*Rank Four… 5 Stars.*
He could feel it now—the quiet, crushing pressure that had filled the dojo when she faced the orcs. It was stronger here in the open air, refined, fully realized. His big sister had already broken through. While he was still clawing his way through Rank Zero, Reina had stepped into a completely different realm.
The Third Prince tried to rise.
Reina's wooden katana rested lightly against the side of his neck.
"Stay down," she said softly.
He looked up at her, face twisted with humiliation and the first real spark of fear. For a moment it seemed he might obey.
Then pride overrode sense.
He surged upward with a desperate burst of mana, hand reaching for a hidden dagger at his belt.
Reina sighed—almost the same gentle sound she used to make when Elias was a child and refused to go to bed.
The wooden blade moved once more.
This time the impact was not gentle.
The Third Prince was launched backward across the courtyard. He crashed into the base of a stone pillar hard enough to crack the surface, then slid down into a crumpled heap. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth. One arm hung at an unnatural angle. He was still conscious, but only barely.
Reina lowered the wooden katana and slid it back into its sheath with a soft click.
She turned to the floating recording crystals and spoke in the same calm, clear voice.
"The engagement is dissolved, as requested. The royal family's assessment of my strength has been corrected. I trust there will be no further misunderstandings."
She gave a small, polite bow toward the direction of the capital, then turned and walked back toward the main house without another glance at the broken prince.
Elias watched her go.
Around him the crowd remained frozen. No one spoke. No one moved to help the Third Prince until one of his knights finally rushed forward.
Elias's gaze shifted to the prince.
Even through the pain and blood, the man's blue eyes had found him. The polished royal mask was gone. What remained was raw, venomous hatred—directed not only at Reina, but at every member of House Arcturus who stood watching.
The Third Prince's lips moved.
Elias could not hear the words, but he did not need to.
*I will destroy this entire family.*
A slow, cold smile touched Elias's mouth.
*Good,* he thought. *Now the real game begins.*
He turned away from the ruined prince and followed his sister toward the house, the taste of blood still faint on his tongue from Lucian's earlier spar, the cut on his cheek already beginning to dry.
Behind him, the recording crystals continued to float, capturing every moment of the Third Prince's public humiliation for the entire realm to see.
Elias followed the quiet path that led to his eldest sister's private wing. The cut on his cheek had already stopped bleeding. The ache in his shoulders from Lucian's bullets was still there, but he barely noticed it.
He was in a good mood.
For the first time in years, the path ahead felt clean.
The public humiliation of the Third Prince had been thorough, recorded, and already spreading through the capital by now. Reina had not only defended the family's honor—she had done it with such overwhelming strength that no one could ever again call her weak. The soft-hearted girl who once lost the heir claim no longer existed.
Elias stopped in front of the sliding door to her private room and knocked once.
"Enter."
He stepped inside.
Reina's chambers were simple and elegant—tatami floors, low wooden furniture, a single long sword stand against the wall, and a wide window that looked out over a small private garden of white stones and carefully pruned pines. The air smelled faintly of tea and clean steel.
Reina sat at a low table in the center of the room, still wearing the deep-crimson warrior's robe from the courtyard. She had already loosened the high ponytail; her long raven hair fell freely down her back. When she looked up and saw him, her expression remained calm, but something warmer flickered in her eyes.
Elias closed the door behind him.
For a long moment he simply stood there, looking at her.
Then, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he smiled at his big sister with a completely genuine smile—no calculation, no mask, no hidden edge.
He stepped forward, stopped a respectful distance away, and gave a small, formal bow.
"Big sister," he said clearly, "I will support you in the succession."
Reina's eyes widened slightly.
The calm mask she always wore cracked, just for a second, and something bright and unguarded shone through. A real, quiet happiness spread across her face—soft and almost shy, the same expression she used to wear when they were children and he brought her small, useless gifts from the garden.
"…Truly?" she asked.
"Truly."
She lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him. The smile she gave him was small, but it reached her eyes.
"Thank you, Elias."
He moved to the opposite side of the low table and sat. Reina poured tea for both of them with steady hands. The steam rose between them in thin white ribbons. They drank in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the soft clink of porcelain and the distant wind moving through the pines outside.
Elias watched her over the rim of his cup.
*I need to adjust and change my plans.*
The original scheme—propping up Kai as a controllable puppet Duke—was already half-dead the moment Reina revealed Rank Four · 5 Stars in front of the entire courtyard. Continuing to force a weak candidate forward would only create unnecessary conflict inside the house. Better to place his support where real power already existed.
And if he was going to support her…
His gaze drifted, almost against his will, across the elegant line of her neck, the quiet strength in her posture, the way the crimson robe rested against her body.
*I need to seduce my big sister.*
The thought settled in his mind with calm certainty. Not rushed. Not desperate. Simply the next logical step in a long game that had just changed shape.
Across the table, Reina lifted her cup again and took a slow sip. Her expression remained peaceful, but a quiet thought moved behind her calm eyes.
*Thank God Mother is going to be happy.*
*I still don't know why she is so obsessed with Elias that much…*
She set the cup down and looked at her younger brother again, the same soft, genuine smile still lingering on her lips.
Elias met her gaze and returned it with that same rare, unguarded smile.
Outside, the morning sun continued to climb, and somewhere beyond the walls of the estate the Third Prince's humiliation was already becoming the only story anyone in the capital wanted to talk about.
Inside the quiet room, brother and sister simply drank tea together, the first real peace either of them had felt in a long time.