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Chapter 12
“Come here.”
A young princess, looking about ten years old, called out stiffly to a nearby attendant. The attendant shuffled toward her with oddly loose, clumsy movements.
After dismissing the others a few steps back, the princess had the attendant kneel right beside her. Then she leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“That one, right?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t try to dodge it. I can see everything.”
Marcella motioned toward the dueling arena, where Silia had just stepped up. She was in the final group, and after the earlier ones had finished, her turn had finally come.
Because the groups were divided by threes, the number didn’t divide evenly—so Silia was taking the test with only one other person: Ingram.
Clack!
A crisp sound rang out, followed by exclamations from the spectators.
“As expected of the heir of House Phillips.”
“The other one can’t even land a hit.”
“At least she managed to strike once just now, thank goodness. The Diaman family’s honor isn’t completely ruined.”
“Oh, my lord, that’s a bit harsh.”
Compared to Ingram, who was fiercely striking the training dummy, Silia didn’t look impressive.
Indeed, the dummy’s upper half was covered almost entirely in yellow ink—the mark of Ingram’s sword. Silia’s red marks, in contrast, barely showed.
“I still don’t get why you’re so obsessed with her, brother.”
“Obsessed? That’s an exaggeration.”
“I told you I can see everything. You’ve been staring at her the entire time. You’re going to burn holes through her.”
“Did I really?”
When her brother turned with a sheepish grin, Marcella pinched Crondel’s cheek lightly. From behind, it would look like a princess scolding her clumsy attendant.
It wasn’t exactly behavior befitting a princess toward her much older brother, but Crondel had never minded. He often teased her first anyway—he was an easy and pleasant person to be around.
“You can’t hide it from me. Here’s a tip…”
“Yes?”
“If you really want her, why not make a formal marriage proposal?”
“Huh?”
“There’s already a rumor floating around that you’re looking for a bride, isn’t there?”
“That’s just—”
“I know. But you could make use of that, couldn’t you? You could tie her to you through marriage.”
“Haha.”
“I mean it. If things go well…”
You won’t have to worry about Her Highness the Crown Princess taking her from you.
Crondel smiled faintly. Her words were sharp—especially coming from a little sister.
When he turned back to the arena, he saw the girl in the worn robe, moving lazily through her test. He pictured the blade-like silver eyes hidden beneath that hood, and his fingers twitched slightly. His eyes softened, glowing faintly with warmth.
“…Of course I won’t let her be taken. By anyone.”
The words left his lips quietly. Then his eyes brightened again, and his tone turned playful.
“Anyway, today’s also for you, remember? We’re supposed to look at your fiancé candidates. So, how are they—”
He didn’t finish. The training dummy suddenly froze mid-movement. Ingram Phillips lunged at that moment.
Thwack!
With a violent crack, the dummy struck Ingram’s leg.
“I did tell you to watch your balance, didn’t I?”
Silia said it loud enough for everyone to hear. Ingram’s face went pale.
“You didn’t break anything, did you?”
She spun her practice sword lightly in one hand as she spoke.
So he really tried something dirty.
It had felt wrong from the start. Those magical dummies were designed for one-on-one training, not group fights. Normally, they weren’t agile enough for this sort of movement.
But this one moved differently—faster, sharper. And while it attacked Silia relentlessly, it seemed to “miss” just enough when facing Ingram, as if favoring him.
There’s no way a dummy should be able to tell people apart… unless there’s a puppeteer controlling it.
There existed certain enchanted devices that allowed a spellcaster to remotely control a dummy’s power core.
That would explain why it fought harder against outsiders while going easy on Ingram and his followers. Clearly, multiple noble families were in on this little scheme.
When Silia stopped to focus, she saw faint traces of mana threads running from the dummy’s core all the way to the spectators’ stands.
“Bold of you.”
She straightened and slowly swept her gaze across the Phillips family’s section. They must be getting nervous—she had struck the dummy earlier in such a way that it severed the puppeteer’s control link.
The dummy’s mana core ran on magical energy. By overwhelming it with her own mana, she could nullify another caster’s control.
Under the bandages on her hand, her mana circuit began to glow faintly.
Lucky break.
If this had required complex spellwork, she might not have managed it. But brute force she could handle.
Swish!
Silia struck again, pouring her power into the dummy’s core to completely strip away the other mage’s control.
Soon, the overcharged dummy began to thrash wildly, overloaded by the conflicting mana.
“Ah!”
Ingram froze, unable to react.
Smack! Red ink began spreading over the dummy’s chest—Silia’s strikes landing cleanly.
“What on earth…?”
Someone in the audience gasped as Silia continued hitting the dummy relentlessly, staining it completely red. Even as she struck, her eyes stayed fixed on the Phillips section, searching for the puppeteer who might try to reassert control.
She counted silently. One, two—
“Three.”
Boom.
The dummy’s core suddenly surged with explosive backlash. Silia’s head snapped toward the source. Behind the Phillips family’s seats—in the section for common-born spectators—sat someone with their hood pulled low.
The struggle for control intensified.
“Go ahead,” Silia murmured, lips curling.
“If you can.”
BOOM!
“Aaagh!”
“Kyaaah!”
The dummy exploded, scattering debris everywhere. The mana core had gone critical before either side could stabilize it.
Fortunately, the blast didn’t reach the stands, though screams rang out. The puppeteer’s own cry was lost in the chaos.
Mages from the Tower rushed in, casting defensive spells around the area.
“Well, that’s great…”
With the dummy destroyed, there was no way to tell who had scored higher.
Silia was about to request a replacement dummy when—
“You… you!”
Ingram, shaking with anger, suddenly shouted toward the seats where the Tower’s representatives sat.
“I object!”
“Object?”
“You dare defile this sacred test!”
What the—? He’s the one who tried to cheat.
Silia tilted her head, frowning slightly.
“I suspected something when I saw those bandages! Tower representatives! That woman used magic!”
His accusation sent murmurs rippling through the crowd. People stood, pointing and whispering.
Ingram jabbed a finger toward Silia’s hand.
“I saw it! Her hand glowed—there’s a mana circuit there!”
“Oh, this?”
Silia calmly unwrapped her bandage. A red mana circuit, shaped like an inverted triangle, was revealed. Faint traces of magic still pulsed within it.
Whispers spread rapidly.
“See?! She used magic during a sword test! That’s cheating!”
Unbelievable. The real cheater crying foul.
Silia said nothing, since she noticed mages hauling away the cloaked figure from behind the Phillips seats. The man seemed too dazed from the earlier explosion to resist.
The Phillips family would likely hush it up. They had the influence—and plenty of other families tangled up in the affair.
Just as she was preparing to let it pass, someone from the Tower stood up.
“I can confirm it. The examinee did indeed use magic.”
The voice was calm and cool. Silia turned toward it and saw someone with long green hair tied loosely in front and pale yellow eyes—his expression thoughtful and serious.
Julien told me to remember that face.
That meant this must be—
“Lord Riman Jaykal.”
Silia gave a polite nod. Aside from the reclusive Illode, he was said to be the Tower’s most gifted prodigy—raised there since childhood.
There was no warmth in his gaze as he looked at her.
“And…”
He glanced briefly toward Ingram, then fell silent. So he had seen it too—the faint threads of mana, the hidden puppeteer.
But unlike when he pointed out her use of magic, he said nothing about the Phillips’ wrongdoing.
Figures.
Silia smiled bitterly. Riman Jaykal’s face stayed cold as he continued,
“This is a swordsmanship examination. The use of magic is strictly forbidden.”
“I have something to say—”
It was Flier, standing hurriedly in the audience, clearly trying to defend her.
But Riman didn’t let her finish.
“I submit the opinion that this candidate be disqualified.”
