Hero – Part 05
“Aria. I’ve made up my mind.”
Back at the castle, Cecily went straight to the bedroom they shared. Aria was already waiting there.
“I’m not going to stay on the sidelines anymore,” Cecily said. “Will you help me with my sword training?”
Ever since they’d arrived in the Militant Nation, Aria had been acting strange—staring off into space, offering vague answers, and wearing a downcast look. When Cecily asked if something was wrong, Aria only brushed her off with a strained smile.
But now, Aria’s lips curled into a genuine smile. Her face took on a defiant look, like she was shaking off some unseen weight.
“Perfect timing. I was just about to say the same thing. There’s something I’ve been wanting to try. To get stronger.”
Cecily felt a rush of reassurance.
“I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
They would get stronger, together. So they could cut through any evil that came their way.
The time had come to shed Cecily’s dress.
No matter the day, Ewen Benjamin’s mornings always started early.
There was nothing particularly special about his routine. At dawn, when the sky was just starting to lighten, he would take a quiet walk through the castle gardens. It was a habit his late father had kept during his life, and after his death, Ewen had adopted it in hopes of finding some trace of his father’s presence. Somehow, he’d continued it to this day.
His father had been a brilliant scholar. He was a man of profound insight, no less than the first Housman, a pioneer in the study of continental history, and a figure to be proud of. This was why Ewen had kept doing this seemingly fruitless endeavor, trying to find some way to live up to his father’s legacy. Every day, he circled the same paths, over and over.
At this time of year, leisurely strolls didn’t offer much enjoyment. In the warmer months, he could admire the flowerbeds in the garden, but it was currently mid-autumn, when the flowers didn’t bloom. Unfortunately, he lacked the poetic sensibility to find beauty in withered trees. And yet, like an addiction, the habit was hard to break.
Though he rarely spoke of it, everyone who knew him was aware of his morning walks.
“I heard it from Margot.”
So when Aria, waiting for him in the courtyard, revealed the source, Ewen wasn’t particularly surprised. Still, he couldn’t help but feel awkward and averted his gaze.
The cold air swirled around them, their breaths forming white puffs in the frosty morning. They stood frozen, facing each other.
Since the day he bolted out of his quarters, Ewen hadn’t seen Aria even once.
“Disgusting.”
What he did and said was shameful. While it was true that an Infernal Blade had killed his father, that didn’t mean he could blame Aria personally for his death. But logic didn’t play into what he felt. There was something about her being an Infernal Blade that stirred something deep inside him.
That day, to avoid hurting the Infernal Blade that appeared before him in a fit of rage, he had no choice but to run away.
“What do you want?” His voice came out drier than expected. His conscience told him he should apologize, but at this point, any apology would feel insincere.
Aria slowly opened her lips, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Open those droopy eyes and look closely!”
Ewen blinked in surprise as she shouted at him, her face flushed with emotion. Aria glared at him with fire in her eyes.
“You called me disgusting, didn’t you? Well, it’s true. I’m a disgusting Infernal Blade, a cursed sword. There’s no escaping that fate. It’ll follow me for the rest of my life. But you know what? I’m going to fight that fate. I’ll accept it, and I’ll destroy it!” She jabbed her finger at him. “I won’t let you live as some coward, hating an Infernal Blade. I’ve got my pride too. So watch closely, pretty boy. Watch how I fight today!”
After giving him a piece of her mind, Aria turned on her heel and marched away. The cold wind swept past Ewen’s feet. He chuckled.
His shoulders trembled as he bent forward, pressing a fist to his chest to hold back something.
Could I do it?
If he were her, could he face someone who’d insulted him, seen what he actually looked like, and run? Could he say what she just said? Could he be as strong as she was?
Was there any reason to hate her?
Ewen lifted his gaze, staring at the pale, cold sky above.
“Right. Today is the day.
No matter the day, Ewen Benjamin’s mornings always started early.
Even on the day that would determine the fate of the Militant Nation.
Four hours later.
On the plains outside the capital, three hundred soldiers of the Militant Nation had gathered on the battlefield.
“The time has finally come,” Cecily said.
“Indeed, it has,” Zenobia replied with a nod, her breath visible in the cold air. “Let us show them what we’re made of.”
The day of close combat had arrived.
Zenobia and her group, who wouldn’t be part of the battle, camped on a small hill with a clear view of the plains below. Zenobia sat in a simple chair, while Arvie stood at attention beside her. Doris, her bodyguard, was nearby, as was Harvey, who remained an onlooker. Justina from the Continental Law Commission was there as a witness. Cecily, Aria, and several other key figures, including Charlotte, the Girl King’s caretaker, were also present, along with important officials from the Militant Nation.
The sky was overcast, and a thick fog hung over the plains, blanketing the world in a ghostly white. From their vantage point, the movements of the Militant Nation soldiers were hard to make out, but the cold air carried their sounds clearly. With no houses nearby, the area was eerily quiet, and the only noise was the clinking of the soldiers’ armor. The Militant Nation’s flag, bearing the emblem of a four-legged eagle, fluttered in the wind as if trying to dispel the fog. Cecily had heard that these were all handpicked troops.
“So Cecily,” Zenobia asked, her brow furrowed, “why do you look so… battered?”
It was a fair question.
Cecily was dressed in her original Knight Guard uniform, with Aria’s scabbard at her waist. It was her fighting gear, and her face and arms were marked with fresh wounds, as though she had just been in brawl.
Aria spoke up in Cecily’s place. “We were doing some intense training.”
Training? Zenobia tilted her head, clearly puzzled as to why Cecily and Aria needed to train.
“Anyway, where’s the enemy—the Imperial Federation?”
“They should be arriving soon,” Justina said, pulling out a small pocket watch to check the time. The sight of the clock was novel to Cecily, as such timepieces weren’t common in the city.
Then, a sound like the earth splitting open caught Cecily’s attention.
The rhythmic pounding of hooves grew louder. Everyone turned toward the sound, and through the fog, dark shapes began to take form. Soon, a horse’s head appeared through the mist, followed by the rest of the steed, perfectly groomed.
The rider’s presence sent a chill down Cecily’s spine.
Memories of the incident in the barn flashed before her eyes: the fingers on the reins, the kick of the heel against the horse’s flank, the sharpness of the gaze. Everything about this person grated on her nerves. Her heart pounded, and a dark, seething hatred threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t stop her eyes from narrowing grimly.
She knew it was coming. There was only one man she knew who would dare to pull a stunt like this.
“We’re a little late,” said the man in black, Siegfried. He gazed at them from his horse with eyes full of disdain.
Cecily took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain composed. This wasn’t about her today. She kept her gaze fixed on Siegfried, but she refrained from lashing out.
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