Chapter 150


Naturally, Alphonse was the victor of the sparring match.

The difference that decided the outcome between the two was not just the basic gender variation, but the fundamental difference in experience. Alphonse Kraus was accustomed to wielding a sword, while Lizorote Cromel was not. That was all there was to it.

You might think it’s nothing significant, but as always, the basics are the most important.

Before learning any martial art or technique, the first thing taught is how to hold a weapon. This is to ensure that one does not injure oneself while also aiming for the most efficient and powerful usage.

If someone knows how to do it and can embody that lesson in an instant, they would be considered a genius.

In that sense, there was no difference between Alphonse and Lizorote. Both were indeed geniuses, capable of grasping the essence of a technique simply by observing others wielding it once, and executing it themselves.

However, no matter how much of a genius one is, physical training requires a certain level of consistent effort.

A body that grows stronger simply by breathing isn’t a trait that humans generally possess. Like any other human, Alphonse and Lizorote lacked such a physique, and ultimately, the gap between them resulted from how much they had trained with the sword.

With light yet silent footsteps, Alphonse instinctively focused his attention.

Had it been an ambush in the dark, it would have been troublesome, but the mansion was brightly lit, and more importantly, the sparring was taking place in an open space. Although she hid her presence, Lizorote was not quick enough to conceal her body.

However, she was the daughter of a knightly family, not raised as an assassin. Regardless of whether it was a sneak attack, Lizorote should have no trouble showcasing her swordsmanship with her innate skills.

Alphonse’s eyes slowly admired Lizorote’s blade.

In truth, her swordplay was that of a knight.

True to her name, Cromel, Lizorote’s swordsmanship was elegant and powerful.

Though there were awkward aspects, it was still deserving of praise for being quite remarkable overall. Alphonse’s initial thought of an ambush was merely a sensation; it wasn’t Lizorote’s intention at all.

That smooth movement felt oddly unsettling. It was Lizorote wielding the sword, not Alphonse. With a sense of amazement, Alphonse parried the attacks she launched at him. Regardless of his impressions, a spar is a spar, and with victory on the line, he couldn’t simply go along with the attacks.

After exchanging more than ten blows with their wooden swords, Alphonse was finally able to discern the source of the discomfort he had sensed.

‘Hmm…’

Every time he received a strike, Lizorote appeared to struggle more than he did while attacking.

Eventually, he realized it was because she wasn’t accustomed to holding a sword. Despite not having trained, she was still able to awkwardly execute swordplay thanks to her innate talent. With this remarkable skill, Lizorote was displaying her family’s swordsmanship in front of Alphonse.

Having figured out the source of his discomfort, Alphonse contemplated briefly before picking up the pace, parrying Lizorote’s strikes more swiftly. The boy felt no need to continue this spar any longer. A spar has meaning when both sides have something to gain, and this exchange was yielding nothing beneficial for either party—at least that’s what Alphonse thought.

“Ah.”

With a stronger counterattack, Lizorote’s arm lifted the sword upwards.

The recoil transmitted through the sword caused her to lose grip, and thus the wooden sword fell to the ground, signaling the end of the spar.

Alphonse threw his wooden sword down, approached Lizorote, and said, “I won.”

“I see… What a shame…”

“Let me see your hand.”

“Huh?”

Before Lizorote could respond further, Alphonse grabbed her hand. It was exactly as he expected—her hands were entirely uncalloused, belonging to someone who had never held a sword before.

Noticing the scrape on her palm from the wooden sword, Alphonse pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around her hand. Lizorote’s pupils dilated, shifting their focus to the handkerchief. Her interest seemed to lie more in the handkerchief wrapping her palm than the scrape itself, and she examined the cloth with sparkling eyes.

Before Lizorote could express her thoughts about the handkerchief, Alphonse asked her first, “Why did you want to spar?”

“…What do you mean?”

“It’s your first time holding a sword, isn’t it?”

Alphonse’s statement was true. In fact, today was Lizorote’s first time ever holding a sword. She had merely picked up things by watching Reinhardt and Maximilian practice over their shoulders due to her overflowing talent.

“Why would you go through this trouble, even hurting your hand…?”

Alphonse was confused.

She might have extraordinary talent, but why would someone who had never held a sword before insist on sparring with him? By the second or third exchange, her hand must have been straining. If it was merely a whim, she could have stopped it, but Lizorote did not.

Realizing that if left alone, she might continue wielding the sword and charging at him, Alphonse couldn’t just stand by.

What kind of situation led a person who previously had no interest in swords to persistently engage in a spar with him? Alphonse found it utterly incomprehensible.

Perhaps it was because she was flustered by his question or because Alphonse was still holding her hand. Lizorote cast her gaze away awkwardly before answering in a soft voice.

“Um, I wanted to become closer… if that makes sense…?”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to be friends. With you, Alphonse.”

With Lizorote’s response feeling like a leap over several steps, Alphonse still couldn’t comprehend, so realizing her explanation was lacking, Lizorote continued.

“I regretted missing the duel between you and your brother… and I thought you seemed to enjoy swords, so I thought we could get closer this way. Um, but maybe that wasn’t the case…”

“Ah, no, if that’s the case, we didn’t have to do it this way. We could have just talked…”

“Huh? Is that so?! I’m new to making friends, so I didn’t know; so, will you be my friend?”

“…Ah, yes.”

Seeing Lizorote smile brightly at his answer made Alphonse feel a bit dizzy. It wasn’t that he felt odd emotions; it was just overwhelming disbelief.

As that absurdity crossed his mind, a new feeling took root in Alphonse: guilt. He realized he wasn’t the only one who should feel ashamed; it wasn’t just Hailey. He felt sorry for putting up a wall to her innocent goodwill, expressed so purely.

“Next time, let’s try something other than sparring. Something both sides can enjoy, not just one-sided fun.”

“Hmm, chess?”

“That sounds good.”

At Alphonse’s suggestion, Lizorote nodded in understanding.

*

Lizorote Cromel found Alphonse Kraus appealing.

Though Lizorote wasn’t the kind of girl to have that romantic notion of ‘falling in love at first sight,’ her meeting with the boy felt undeniably fateful.

A girl who almost got hit by a carriage and a handsome boy of the same age who rescued her.

If this situation didn’t smell like a storybook romance, what else could it be called?

Of course, had their farewell at that street encounter been the last, Lizorote would have dismissed it as a fleeting connection. However, discovering the boy as a guest at her mansion later that same evening convinced her that there was some kind of fate between them.

To be precise, it wasn’t love, but rather an affection that could transform into love at any time.

With just a series of coincidences unfolding in a single day, it would be unreasonable for Lizorote to fall in love then and there; she was a rational person. Yet it was an undeniable fact that those events sparked a fondness for Alphonse Kraus.

“Ah, Alphonse. That’s not how you eat King Star Crab. Wait a moment, I’ll help you with it.”

“Huh? Yes, thank you…”

Even if it was a matter of showing her inexperienced side to the boy she admired. Perhaps because of the one-sided nature of her feelings, Lizorote found his embarrassed expression cuter than feeling jealousy.

Understanding that relationships must be bidirectional to be meaningful, she wasn’t too concerned about Alphonse’s affection for Hailey. She could foresee how that affection would be directed at her as well; to Lizorote, Alphonse’s feelings for Hailey held just that small value.

Of course, realizing that her current situation was no different, Lizorote decided to cultivate a relationship that wouldn’t be one-sided. Thus, her plan was to start by becoming friends with the boy.

Although Lizorote had never had friends before, she knew that such a relationship involved sharing many emotions.

To become mutual instead of one-sided, they first needed to share those feelings. The girl thought of filling her affection for the boy through the relationship of friendship, and she seemed to be somewhat successful in that endeavor.