"A gift, you say?"
Rem muttered.
He said it because Sinar had drawn her Naidil in a way that made it clear she was ready to fight.
As if responding to his words, Sinar said,
"If it's a gift for a madman, of course, it must be a duel, right?"
Ah, well, that made sense.
Sinar’s words could have been turned into a song if one added a melody.
Her voice was that clear and beautiful, like the sound of a drop of water falling into a still lake.
Since the training hall had been destroyed before, they had relocated it a bit away from the lodgings.
It could always be rebuilt, but Krais wouldn't allow the unnecessary waste of Krona.
So, the training hall was placed slightly apart from the lodgings, a corner of the military grounds that, when viewed from above, was bathed in sunlight.
"If you underestimate him, you'll pay for it, Sister."
Audin said.
It was late afternoon, and the sun was warm.
Pollen from wildflowers beyond the training hall drifted in the air, carried by a gentle breeze infused with the scent of grass and flowers.
It was the kind of season where lying down would lull you to sleep, and just walking could lift your spirits.
And now, the two standing in the training hall were indeed exhilarated.
Encrid was excited by the word gift, and Sinar was excited just to be back.
Standing in the center of the training hall, Sinar made it clear to everyone that she had changed.
The first sign was her smile. Her lips curved ever so slightly.
That alone was enough to make men pledge their lives to form a personal guard for her.
Fortunately, there was no one here who would declare themselves her guard just from seeing her smile.
"She's smiling?"
"She’s smiling?"
Rem and Ragna blinked in surprise.
"You've learned to smile, Sister."
Audin smiled back at her.
"It looks good on you."
Even Teresa, surprised, commented.
"Huh?"
Lawford felt his mind momentarily go blank before he quickly regained focus.
"Has she been possessed by a spirit?"
Pel muttered, rejecting the idea that he was being enchanted by a spell.
Even without magic, a smile like that could very well be called a form of sorcery. There were plenty of similar stories across the continent.
One of the most famous was the tale of the painter Pelloran and the alchemist Zeloran.
The two brothers had both fallen in love with a country maiden whose beauty, it was said, was so stunning that if a king saw her, he would make her his queen immediately.
The painter and alchemist knew this, too.
Eventually, a prince saw her. Then the king saw her. And then a powerful noble, one of the kingdom’s ruling figures, laid eyes on her as well.
Wanting to possess her, the king killed his own young, handsome son.
And the noble, desiring her for himself, waged war against the king.
As the city burned and the nation fell into civil war, Zeloran, in desperation, committed the ultimate sin.
He created and fed her a love potion, and it killed her.
Pelloran was so stricken with grief that he neither ate nor drank nor slept for two weeks.
He spent that entire time painting before he, too, died.
That was how the legendary Portrait of Dorthea came to be.
A painting said to ensnare any man who laid eyes upon it, filling them with uncontrollable desire and making them do anything to possess it.
"I, the Golden Witch, have not lost yet."
If Pelloran or Zeloran had seen her, they would have surely thrown their lives away for her.
And from the way Sinar spoke, it seemed she had already heard the rumors, despite just arriving.
Which made sense.
The exiled fairy tribe had kept their ears open and their mouths shut. Because of that, they knew a great deal.
Especially when it came to the one who had saved their people.
Whenever Encrid ventured into the city, some fairies would secretly follow just to catch a glimpse of him. Jaxon had caught them several times.
Some had even attempted infiltration missions before their queen arrived, but they all ended in failure.
Reaching Encrid’s lodgings was already a difficult feat.
And even if they made it that far, no fairy had yet managed to evade Jaxon’s senses and slip through Esther’s magical barriers.
Unable to act directly, the fairies instead sharpened their ears and absorbed every rumor that spread.
"The rumor that the Black Flower has won is everywhere."
Hearing that immediately upon her return, Sinar’s challenge was inevitable.
Regardless, Encrid, now having seen Naidil, steadied his excitement and focused on the blade.
He remembered the Sinar of before, the one who had handed him the Four Seasons Sword and the one who had been bound by a demon.
Sinar raised her Naidil and shook it above her head.
As she flicked it, the direction of the wind shifted around the blade, carrying away the scent of flowers.
Then, she kicked off the ground and moved.
Fairy footsteps were always swift.
For a moment, Encrid’s vision made it seem as though Sinar’s body had grown larger.
He immediately shifted into high-speed thought processing and swung his sword.
Sinar’s blade descended toward Encrid’s head.
The moment he registered it, he twisted his waist and turned his head. His body moved reflexively.
He planted his feet into the ground and pushed off with inhuman strength.
His form stretched sideways, moving with almost unnatural flexibility.
It was a feat impressive enough to inspire admiration. Yet, he had not completely dodged the blade.
It wasn’t a fatal wound.
But even considering that this was just a spar, Encrid still felt the weight of the strike grazing his shoulder.
‘How?’
There was an unseen blade between the gaps of the real one.
It was a technique combining Ragna’s heavy strikes with Jaxon’s Silent Stab.
"Winter Mountain Breeze."
Sinar spoke and stopped.
Encrid looked at her, and she looked at him. He could sense a faint heat radiating from her entire body.
She had clenched her teeth and trained relentlessly to prepare this gift.
She wouldn’t have stepped forward with half-baked skills.
She had seen him face the One-Killer, and knowing that, she had undergone grueling training to counter it.
‘It was carelessness.’
He hadn't been drunk on power. He wasn’t arrogant. He had simply underestimated Sinar.
‘If I can change, then others can change, too.’
He had already realized this through Rem, so why had he forgotten?
That was his mistake. Encrid finally understood.
The fairy standing before him was a genius born of her tribe.
Truly, Sinar had inherited both her mother’s and father’s talents. Only the fairies’ naturally slow sense of time had held her back.
Because of their long lifespans, fairies lost their passion in exchange. Only for fleeting moments in their lives would they ignite into flames.
Igniculus.
Thus, Sinar’s transformation was inevitable. Her fire was still burning.
"How did you do it?"
The one who had lit the flame asked.
"What fun would it be if I told you everything?"
Sinar responded playfully.
Of course, her beauty was so overwhelming that instead of looking mischievous, she still appeared elegant.
Encrid replayed the moment in his mind and reached a conclusion.
An extreme lethal technique-user.
That was the form of Sinar’s swordsmanship.
This was the result of her relentless honing ,and the natural manifestation of her innate talent.
She had spent days analyzing Wave Blocking Sword and devised a perfect counter.
That was probably why her return had been delayed.
"If you had been even a little slower, you would have been a fallen flower at the peak."
Was she talking about swordsmanship?
Encrid, curious, asked.
"What do you mean by that?"
"It’s like almost becoming an unripe fruit."
Encrid tilted his head. Was there some deeper meaning behind this?
Seeing his confusion, Sinar reworded her statement more directly.
"I mean, I almost became a widow without even experiencing my wedding night."
It was a high-purity fairy joke, one rarely heard these days.
"You’re back, crazy fairy."
Rem muttered in admiration. It was impressive how she could spout such words the moment she arrived.
"Let’s go again."
As always, Encrid completely ignored the joke and spoke decisively.
"If I win, will we get married?"
Sinar was a fairy who didn’t know how to give up.
Especially when it came to jokes, she never considered her opponent’s reaction.
"Are you serious?"
"No, I wouldn’t force it. That wouldn’t make the night enjoyable."
Somehow, she had become even bolder and more daring than before her battle against demons.
But regardless of that, her skills and technique were the real deal.
When discussing new sword techniques and the next steps, Sinar's message was clear— Before learning something new, refine what you already have.
Complacency was shattered. His thought process shifted.
Was it frustrating? No, it was exhilarating.
The sweat-drenched moments, each step forward, the thrill of discussing and refining skills with worthy opponents, everything about this was endlessly enjoyable.
That day, Sinar used the same technique three more times before shaking her head.
"Any more, and I’ll collapse. You’re such a cute little boy."
"What kind of nickname is that?"
Encrid couldn’t help but gape at her in disbelief.
"It’s my way of acknowledging that I’m older. And I wasn’t saying that you would collapse, but that I would. Oh? If I do collapse, will you hold me again? Your embrace was quite warm last time."
Sinar was in high spirits, practically dancing with excitement.
Her tongue was sharper than her sword.
Encrid wisely chose not to engage in a battle of words. A good tactician knew when to fight and when not to.
While in a sword fight, charging in blindly was sometimes necessary, when it came to verbal battles, Encrid was as experienced as a war-weary veteran.
He strategically retreated by simply keeping his mouth shut.
That evening, everyone gathered, and since they were all together, they roasted an entire pig.
The meal was Krais’ handiwork.
"This really feels like a feast. A whole pig seems just right for the occasion."
A Knight’s appetite was incomparable to that of an ordinary person.
Even a whole pig wouldn’t be enough to feed them all.
Even Jaxon, who appeared reserved and quiet, ate a lot.
It was simply a matter of necessity, the energy they burned was on another level.
As Encrid sat at the long table in front of the newly built lodgings, he could sense Krais’ attention to detail.
‘He’s telling us to just eat here if we’re too tired from training.’
Though they had a separate dining hall, Krais had also placed stone tables outside.
A massive stone slab sat before them, looking like it was meant to be used roughly, without concern for aesthetics.
This was just another example of Krais’ meticulous nature, even broken items had their place in his plans.
"If I tell you to stop fighting while eating, will you listen? Of course not. So, just eat separately from the regular soldiers now."
Krais hadn’t said it outright, but his actions made the message loud and clear.
He had been quite busy lately.
Apparently, he had asked the fairies to dig another well.
On top of that, he was negotiating trade deals with merchant cities.
And that wasn’t even the end of it, talks were also happening with the Holy Nation.
Encrid had heard of the plans and could guess Krais’ intentions, but truthfully, he found it all tiresome.
He had stamped a few documents, but one thing was certain— He had no interest in such matters.
He even considered dumping all his authority onto Lord Graham.
Though, the lord probably had no desire to accept it.
Was there anyone suited for this kind of work?
There had to be.
If there wasn’t, Krais would suffer, and if that happened, he’d definitely find someone.
As everyone ate and drank, the topic of conversation was, unsurprisingly, sword techniques and martial skills.
Among them, the hottest topic was the knightly system Encrid had recently established.
It was only natural.
They had never gathered like this before.
While many had spoken to Encrid individually, this was the first time they were all discussing it together.
Then, the conversation drifted to the idea that high-ranking Knights shouldn't just rely on techniques or special abilities, but should instead learn how to wield a sword naturally.
"What do you mean by striking naturally? What’s there to think about? Like I said before, you just strike. Just like that."
Rem spoke first.
After listening, Encrid could clearly identify the unique traits each of them possessed.
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