Battlefield

In the courtyard he saw the horses and spotted hunting dogs lying there asleep. He walked further and saw all the attendants lying asleep in the hall, and above them near the throne the king and the queen were lying. Finally he came to the tower and opened the door to the little room where Little Brier-Rose was sleeping.

“What a beautiful Princess!”

The Brothers Grimm, Sleeping Beauty


Prologue: Battlefield

“Don’t you dare put her in danger!” the boy cried in his dream.

Bullets zipped through the air, accompanied by the acrid scent of gunpowder. Sweat streamed down his forehead.

He realized he was in some southern country. He surveyed the unfamiliar battlefield with wide eyes.

The scene was bathed in the warm glow of an unusually large orange sun. Yellow sand swirled around him, and in the distance, he spotted a massive tank. Towering trees with odd-shaped leaves stood in rows, shrouded in dense foliage.

Then it dawned on him that he was not a mere observer, but a soldier in the middle of the fray.

Clutching his gun tightly, he bravely pushed forward, trudging through the scorching sand that weighed down his every step. A distant explosion resounded, and flames erupted.

“She’s an enigma, but she’s human. Just a little girl. She’s not someone to be exterminated. I won’t let anyone call her a monster, or a weapon!”

As he sprinted onward, he realized he was engaged in a heated argument with someone.

A gust of hot wind swept past.

Who was the man beside him, sneering? It felt like this happened in some distant country, a chilly Western European kingdom with soaring church spires, exquisite rose windows, the clattering of carriages, and the rustling of ladies’ garments.

He had met this mysterious man so long ago that he couldn’t quite remember him. His fiery red hair fluttered.

“Didn’t expect her to have a knight in shining armor.”

Hearing the man’s voice, the boy whirled around.

Suddenly, a bomb struck nearby, throwing him off several meters away. The tropical sun beat down on him mercilessly. A hot wind gusted past. Sweat dripped down his face.

“Can you protect her with such feeble power?”

“A big, big storm awaits the cub.”

“That thing was born during the first storm. Birthed according to plan, to be used as a trump card for the second storm, the magnitude of which a single, kind-hearted boy can do nothing against. You will weep.”

“Grief will change you.”

“Will you also become a little monster…?”

The voice gradually faded away.

Struggling to discern his adversary’s face amidst the swirling dust, the boy was suddenly seized by his comrades. They yanked him away, urging him to escape, and he snapped back to reality.

The sun blazed overhead.

As he fled alongside his fellow soldiers, he desperately tried to remember when and where he had heard those haunting words, but memories slipped away like waves receding on a distant summer day.

Bullets whistled past. Sweat trickled down from his forehead to his chin.

“Victorique!” Kazuya cried out as he jolted awake.

“Aaah!”

“Wah! Huh? Oh, the dorm mother.”

Kazuya gave a start as he found himself face to face with a freckled woman.


The year was 1924.

In the European continent lay a small nation, the Kingdom of Sauville. Shaped like a long corridor, it was bounded by majestic mountain ranges and lakes along the Swiss border, vast and tranquil vineyards in France, and delightful summer retreats facing the Mediterranean Sea along the Italian border. Despite being surrounded by great powers, the kingdom survived the previous Great War, and its extensive history and significant influence earned it the nickname the little giant of Western Europe.

While the Bay of Lyon facing the Mediterranean served as the entrance to the kingdom, the Alps could be considered its secret attic. Hidden away in a village at the foot of the mountains was Saint Marguerite Academy. Officially an educational institution exclusive for the nobility, it was shrouded in mystery, and was often referred to as Sauville’s secret armory. After the previous war, however, it began accepting gifted students from allied nations as international students, gradually opening its doors to the wider world.

In one of the rooms within the boys’ dormitory, Kazuya was about to begin his usual morning routine.

“Oh, Kujou. Waking up while calling someone’s name? You must be very close with that little lady,” teased the dorm mother.

Kazuya blushed. “No, I was just… I had a dream.”

“A dream? What was it about?”

“Well, I can’t remember now that I’m awake.” Furrowing his brow in puzzlement, Kazuya adjusted the front of his yukata, his sleepwear. “I was in an unknown country, doing something… But never mind that. What are you doing in my room?”

“Right!” The dorm mother nodded, remembering. “Tomorrow is Christmas, right? I thought I might find a wonderful Asian outfit for me to wear to the village dance party. I was planning to take one from your drawer while you were asleep.”

“I told you not to go through my stuff or take my clothes without permission!”

“I remember when you first arrived. Always sobbing while calling your sister’s name, ‘Ruri, Ruri.’ You’ve changed a lot since then. Maybe you’ve grown up. Ah, let me borrow this!”

“I wasn’t sobbing! Also, that’s my summer sleepwear… Wait!”

Before he could stop her, the dorm mother darted out of the room, leaving Kazuya dumbfounded, one arm outstretched towards the door. A moment later, he let out a resigned sigh and lowered his arm.

Adjusting his yukata, he rose from the bed, his breath visible in the cold European winter air.

“Right. Tomorrow’s Christmas,” he mumbled, a joyful smile spreading across his face.

His gaze fell on two wrapped packages on his desk. Just recently, he had chased after Victorique on a motorcycle to Saubreme and became embroiled in solving the kingdom’s greatest mystery—the murder of Queen Coco Rose. He had secretly bought those gifts, planning to give them to her on Christmas.

Noticing commotion outside the window, he raised his head. Donning a padded kimono and geta, he approached the window to look outside.

The gorgeous French-style garden was alive with young aristocrats leaving for winter vacation, which started today, on the morrow of the human chess tournament. Eager to return home, the students, dressed in luxurious cashmere coats, scarves, hats, hurried towards the main gate, carrying suitcases in both hands.

“Kujou!” A bright girl’s voice sounded amidst the falling snow.

Kazuya looked down below the window to see a lovely girl with short blonde hair, bright, ocean-blue eyes, and long and graceful arms and legs. She stood there, gazing up at him with a large suitcase and umbrella in hand. Though her coat and scarf were not made of luxurious cashmere, their simple and elegant design caught the eye nevertheless.

“Oh, Avril. Good morning!” Kazuya greeted with a smile, raising his hand.

Avril Bradley, an international student from England and granddaughter of the adventurer Sir Bradley, nodded wordlessly. It looked like she had something she wanted to say.

“I’ll see you next year—” Kazuya paused.

He grabbed his bowler hat from the rack and put it on before dashing out of the room. His geta clacked as he descended the stairs and stepped outside the boys’ dormitory. His breath came out in white puffs.

Avril’s face lit up. “Oh, Kujou.”

Standing stiffly upright, Kazuya returned the smile and said, “That’s a lot of stuff. See you next year, Avril.”

“I was thinking of throwing a stone at your window, but when I did that back in England, I ended up breaking my friend’s window. So I hesitated, but then you appeared at the right time!”

“I see. Don’t tell me you’ve been here for…” Kazuya swallowed the rest of his words.

Snow had piled up on Avril’s flowing golden hair. Kazuya gently brushed it away. Avril gasped, then closed her eyes, a joyful smile on her lips.

Kazuya noticed a sparkle at the corner of her eye; he wondered what had happened.

“I just woke up,” he said. “I think I was having a nightmare. But I’m glad. I managed to wake up from a terrifying dream, and I got to see a friend.”

“Victorique…”

“Hmm? What about her?” Kazuya trembled.

Pure-white snow fell between them. Students, carrying their huge luggage, continued their march under the bright winter sun.

Avril nodded gravely. “Yesterday, she told me to not forget about the Penny Black. She looked worried.”

“Penny Black? Oh, that thing…”

The Penny Black was a rare and expensive old postage stamp. The oldest stamps in the world, some became even more valuable due to printing errors. One of them was a secret inheritance passed down to Avril from her grandfather, Sir Bradley. It had long been concealed in the academy, leading to Avril’s tumultuous life as an international student, targeted by Ciaran the Second, a master thief. However, thanks to Kazuya and Victorique, the stamp eventually reached Avril’s hands safely.

Kazuya paused, pondering for a moment. Bring the Penny Black during the short winter vacation? What could that possibly mean?

What did her brain, the Wellspring of Wisdom, foresee after reconstructing fragments of chaos?

Recalling the frightening dream he just had, Kazuya shook his head.

Avril glanced at her delicate ladies’ wristwatch, seemingly reluctant to go. “I have to go now. I need to catch the first train in the morning.”

“O-Okay…” Kazuya, too, seemed unwilling to part. “But winter break is much shorter than summer vacation,” he quickly added. “We’ll be able to see each other soon.”

“Yup!” Avril nodded emphatically.

Seeing her struggle to pull the large, rugged suitcase, Kazuya decided to help carry her luggage to the main gate like a gentleman.

“For Christmas, I’ll be roasting a turkey with my cousin Frannie,” Avril said, swinging her umbrella around. “And Granny will make pudding, and we’ll exchange gifts…”

“Christmas in England sounds fun.”

“Yup. Oh, we’re already at the gate.”

After taking her suitcase, Avril waved goodbye to Kazuya and tottered towards the gate. A clump of snow fell from a tree. Kazuya, standing at attention, saw her off.

Then suddenly, Avril let go of the suitcase and rushed back like a lively spring bird, her long and graceful arms and legs swinging. Taken aback, Kazuya raised both hands, and she jumped into him like a child. Then Avril pursed her lips, which were cold as ice from being outside for so long, and planted it on Kazuya’s cheek.

For a very brief moment, Avril Bradley had kissed Kazuya.

He yelped. Having come to Europe, Kazuya had seen people here greet each other with kisses on the cheeks, but he grew up in a country without such a custom, leaving him astonished.

Blushing from embarrassment, Avril quickly whirled around, her coat and scarf flaring, grabbed her suitcase, and scurried away, far beyond the gate.

“S-See you next year, Kujou!” she shouted cheerfully.

“Y-Yeah…”

“M-M-Merry Christmas!”

Like a little bird spreading its wings, Avril sprinted away into the distance, heading toward the future.

Kazuya stood stock still, both arms still raised. His face gradually turned red.

With all the students gone, complete silence filled the campus. Snow fell gently on the luxurious garden.


“Wait! I’m coming!”

A whistle echoed in the village’s only train station.

The locomotive, packed with students from the academy, was about to depart. Curious, students by the windows turned to the direction of the voice.

Avril, dragging her suitcase, rushed onto the platform and swiftly hurled the suitcase towards the moving locomotive. Ignoring the surprised male students, she then leapt nimbly onto the train.

Her short golden hair tossed in the wind, fluttering magically, and her long, graceful legs performed a joyful step on the floor of the locomotive.

As Avril settled down, she looked back at the scenery outside, her eyes narrowed in a smile.

A deafening whistle sounded once more. The locomotive gained speed, moving farther and farther away from the village.

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