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“I lost…”

Dmitri finally knelt before Isabella.

“Hmph. Am I still weak?”

Isabella glared down at Dmitri with sharp eyes. Her gaze was so intense that Dmitri couldn’t bring himself to look up.

“No… That couldn’t be. My Isabella.”

“Do you understand now? This is the gap between you and me.”

Isabella pressed her foot firmly on Dmitri’s head.

“Don’t ever underestimate me again, Dmitri.”

“I-I wasn’t underestimating you! I was just worried about you—”

“Oh? So I looked weak enough for you to worry about me?”

“Th-That’s not it…!”

Dmitri was at a loss for words.

“Am I wrong, you liar?”

“Princess…! Even if I had ten mouths, I couldn’t explain myself, but please know this much…! My concern for you is genuine!”

“Hmph… Genuine? I really want to sew your mouth shut.”

Isabella remained unmoved by Dmitri’s plea.

She was the most dignified woman in the country, Princess Isabella.

All Dmitri could do was beg her for forgiveness.

“Princess… Please forgive me!”

“Dmitri. You know what? You’re the biggest fool in the world…”

Isabella mercilessly stepped on his back as she spoke.

“Self-righteous… selfish… utterly arrogant… and pretending not to know my feelings…”

Bella, lying on the bed, put down the two dolls in her hands.

“Bad person…”

She poked Dmitri’s cheek and muttered.

“Who’s weak…”

Bella’s stomach churned as she recalled the conversation she had with Tristan earlier that evening at the imperial palace.

The legendary swordsmanship left by the hero Alonso Izakhel, the Izakhel Style.

Tristan had dared to call Bella, who inherited its lineage, weak. For Bella, who trained daily in swordsmanship, it was nothing short of an insult.

But while Bella was furious at Tristan’s assessment, she couldn’t refute it.

Because deep down, she somewhat agreed with him.

Bella looked at her hands.

The calloused hands were unmistakably those of a sword master.

Though she had never missed a day of training, Bella had begun to feel it.

Her swordsmanship, the Izakhel Style, had plateaued.

“It’s gotten a bit dull.”

It was probably after her father, Duke Fred Izakhel, had put down his sword.

Originally, Fred was supposed to inherit the Izakhel Style, but after falling into gambling, he gradually neglected his training.

Though intangible, the Izakhel Style was the family’s unparalleled treasure.

Bella had become the successor of the Izakhel Style in Fred’s place.

Bella trained alone, relying on the swordsmanship Fred had taught her long ago and the family’s ancient manuals.

It was like hitting rock bottom, but fortunately, she had talent. Combined with her relentless effort, it was a perfect match.

The nearly forgotten Izakhel Style barely survived thanks to Bella’s efforts.

But at that point, Bella realized there was nothing left for her to learn.

No, there was no reason to wield the sword anymore.

Having achieved the goal of inheriting the Izakhel Style, she had no further goals to strive for.

Whether Tristan knew this and pointed it out or not, he had successfully struck a nerve in Bella’s pride.

“Still, I’m stronger than you… right?”

Bella poked Dmitri’s cheek again.

Seeing his crumpled face seemed to lift her spirits a bit.

“Speaking of which…”

It had been an emotionally exhausting day.

When she was suddenly summoned to the imperial palace by His Majesty the Emperor, she had been cornered by Tristan.

That alone was enough to make her heart race, but then he unexpectedly told her to withdraw from the expedition.

Caught between hot and cold emotions, Bella became extremely sensitive.

Unable to hold back, she confronted Tristan.

And his response was…

“I was worried you might get hurt.”

“~~~~~!”

Bella furiously hit Dmitri with a pillow.

Even recalling it made her face burn with embarrassment.

Before leaving the palace, Tristan made a promise with Bella. To train each other to the point of mutual recognition.

His words carried many implications, but in short, it boiled down to this:

“So, you’re saying you’ll be my rival, huh?”

Bella put down the pillow and got out of bed.

Thinking about it, the person who knew the Izakhel Style best after her wasn’t Fred, but Tristan.

When they had crossed swords before, Bella had clearly felt it.

His deep understanding of the Izakhel Style, the traces of relentless effort, and his boundless talent.

The more they sparred, the stronger Tristan became.

He claimed he was just mimicking, but it was undeniable talent.

And deep down, Bella was glad for that talent.

If she properly taught Tristan the Izakhel Style… how far could he grow? Could he become the wall she needed to overcome?

“…Do you dare stand by my side? Dream big.”

Bella muttered as she picked up the pitiful bear doll lying on the floor.

“Dmitri, of all people.”

A soft smile lingered on her lips.

***

“Count~! Hug me!”

Helga, finally back after her treatment, immediately tried to hug me with open arms. I sidestepped her lightly.

“Heeing. So cold. I hate you.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry, Count. I’ll stop the antics, so please stop cursing me with your expression…”

Now, just by looking at my expression, she could tell what I was thinking. Truly my bodyguard knight.

“It took quite a while to recover.”

“Ah, yeah. Father really went all out… Hahaha. Of course, I gave it my all too.”

Helga laughed heartily.

From her reaction, it seemed she and Gale had reconciled smoothly. She was even smiling while talking about him.

Thus, the deep rift between Helga and Gale had been mended.

Staying together in the hospital room for a few days and talking had improved their relationship.

Indeed, communication is key.

If you don’t talk, nothing gets conveyed. Misunderstandings just pile up.

“Aren’t you disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“The position of the Wolfbert family head. If you wanted it, you could have taken it.”

“Ah… Umm…”

Helga scratched her head.

“It’s fine. I never really cared about that position anyway. I just wanted to give Father a good beating, so I joined in.”

“Is that so?”

“Ah! Now that I think about it, it’s a bit disappointing. I could’ve sat in the family head’s seat and showed off in front of that smug brother of mine. Ugh…!”

If that had happened, there would’ve been internal strife in the Wolfbert family. But seeing no real regret on Helga’s face, I felt relieved.

She had fully returned to her usual self.

“From the way you’re talking, it seems you rested well in the hospital.”

“Ugh. Count, don’t even mention it. Father kept complaining about the hospital food. He even said he’d fight the nurse one-on-one to get better meals. Of course, I fought on the nurse’s behalf.”

“…I see.”

“Naturally, I won. Hehe…”

Helga proudly puffed out her chest.

So that’s why Gale was bandaged up when I saw him at the imperial palace. I thought it was from the injuries during the family head duel…

Truly the Wolfbert family’s aggressive way. As long as the parties involved were satisfied, that’s all that mattered.

“Ah, by the way, Count…”

Helga suddenly spoke up as if she remembered something.

“You said you knew where my mother is now, right?”

“That’s right.”

The story with the Wolfbert family wasn’t entirely over yet.

The moment had finally come to talk about the whereabouts of Helga’s mother, Maible.

Helga spoke with a look of distant longing.

“Honestly, I still can’t believe it. That Mother is alive… And that you know where she is…”

“…It’s not certain yet.”

Though the world was following the original story, my intervention had changed things.

Like the butterfly effect, variables could exist anywhere, so I couldn’t be 100% sure about Maible’s whereabouts.

But as Gale said, Maible was a woman of strong survival instincts.

She was definitely alive.

“Father said he’d help if there’s anything he can do. If we can find Mother, maybe…”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but his help won’t be necessary.”

“Huh?”

I looked out the window.

From the office, the vast estate of the Ruelberta family was visible.

Beyond the open grounds, the imperial palace on the island and the long mountain range stretched out.

“There aren’t many places in this country where your mother… Maible could be. She’d need a place to hide her identity, away from the eyes of the imperial family, the security bureau, and the imperial army.”

“That’s… true? It wouldn’t be easy to hide her identity for so long as a wanted person.”

“Right. So she probably chose the most certain method.”

“The most certain method?”

At Helga’s puzzled look, I smirked and dropped a hint.

“If it’s hard to hide your identity, it’s more certain to erase it.”

“Huh?”

“Our family has a similar place, doesn’t it? A place where your identity is completely erased the moment you enter…”

At my words, a single word flashed across Helga’s face.

“…The Gehenna Mine!”

 

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