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Chapter 26
“Raymon.”
At the sound of his name, Raymon turned his head.
Just moments ago, Erin had been talking with Ferdin Rexia. Yet now, she was standing right beside him.
Her eyes, touched by moonlight, gleamed with a strange brilliance.
‘What? When did she move here?’
Raymon froze in bewilderment. He had been watching Erin and Ferdin only a moment ago—so why was she suddenly at his side?
He had been carefully observing them. His level wasn’t so low that even the greenhorns of the Swordsmanship Faculty could sense his presence.
There was no way Erin could have noticed him.
Besides, hadn’t she just slipped away, avoiding Ferdin’s attempt to stop her?
He had even thought to himself that Corelia would’ve found the scene amusing.
But now, in the blink of an eye, she was standing right here?
And this place wasn’t even close to where she and Ferdin had been.
Raymon stared at Erin, dazed, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Though she had seemed a little different since coming to the Academy, in his mind Erin was still that same foolish, pathetic girl—perfect prey to toy with.
Yet… something was off.
“What were you doing, standing there with your sword drawn?”
As she said, Raymon was indeed gripping his sword.
He had already completed his draw, ready to spring forward at any moment.
Erin stepped toward him slowly.
The oppressive aura she carried made it hard to believe she was the same timid girl who had just spoken so meekly with Ferdin.
Tilting her head, Erin asked,
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Perhaps it was the moonlight, but Raymon found Erin Rysus—her eyes glinting beneath the night sky—so strangely unfamiliar.
Why?
‘Calm down, Raymon. She’s just Erin Rysus. It’s ridiculous to be nervous.’
He had already reached the realm of an upper knight. Erin, on the other hand, was just a novice who had only recently picked up a sword at the Faculty.
He kept reminding himself of their gap in skill, but despite that, his body involuntarily retreated step by step.
The sword he held so firmly suddenly felt like a pitiful comfort.
“How strange.”
Erin muttered softly as she laid a hand on the hilt at her waist and drew her sword.
“What were you planning to do here? Why were you hiding in the shadows, spying on me and Sir Ferdin like a rat?”
Raymon’s true intent had been simple: knock Erin unconscious and complete the mission Corelia had given him.
He had waited for the right chance. When Erin and Ferdin drifted away from the rest of their group, he thought it the perfect opportunity.
If he followed them further into the forest, he risked his own life. He knew what was coming.
So he had decided to wound Erin, use that as an excuse, and escape.
It should have been easy.
Raymon steadied himself, recalling the plan. Clearly, the moonlight had momentarily bewitched him. To think he’d been spooked by a mere slip of a girl.
If anyone saw him like this, he’d be ridiculed endlessly.
He tightened his grip on his sword and advanced on Erin, speaking lightly,
“Erin, rat? You’ve got it all wrong. I only followed you because you and Sir Ferdin went off alone, and I was worried. Even if he’s your fiancé, you shouldn’t wander into the forest this late at night with a man you barely know—”
“You were worried about me?”
“Yes. You’re far too careless. Don’t trust him too much. He’s different from me. You should be careful.”
“Don’t… trust him…?”
That was the most laughable thing Erin had ever heard.
Perhaps in the past, before she had died by Raymon’s hand, she might have believed him.
Because he was her friend. Because he was supposed to be on her side.
But death had taught her one truth: who she truly could and could not trust.
At the very end, the only ones who protected her were Ferdin and his knights.
And now this wretched insect dared tell her not to trust them?
“Raymon, did you know? When a sword pierces your throat, it hurts. Sometimes you don’t even die right away. You writhe in agony for a long time before the end finally comes…”
Raymon looked at her as though she were mad.
Her cold, expressionless recital of something so obvious was both bizarre and terrifying.
Something was definitely wrong with her.
‘Did Corelia’s discipline break her? I told her to go easy…’
That Erin had discovered him lurking nearby was unexpected, but ultimately irrelevant. It didn’t interfere with his mission.
After observing her for two months, Raymon had certainly noticed she had changed.
Gone was the meek gaze of a girl so easy to tease. Now, she looked at him with eyes he couldn’t read.
He had no idea why, but he didn’t care.
No matter how she changed, at her core she was still Erin Rysus.
Before long she would return to clinging to him, begging for affection.
At the Academy, there was no one who would love her.
Whatever he did here, no one would believe Erin’s words.
And she, who had always obeyed Corelia without question, couldn’t possibly act on her own.
He had known her since childhood.
That lonely girl, trapped in the Marquis’ tower, doing nothing but sitting with empty eyes.
That was the Erin Rysus he remembered.
She only knew how to wait.
“Erin, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Come with me. I’ll take you back to camp, and we’ll talk it over.”
Raymon edged closer, planning to subdue her. He would strike her neck, knock her out, and continue with his plan.
The blade in his hand gleamed beneath the moonlight. He suddenly lunged, seizing Erin’s arm.
‘Of course.’
He chuckled in relief. She didn’t resist.
That eerie feeling from before must’ve been his imagination.
He quickly reversed his sword grip, aiming to strike the back of her neck.
It was swift—close range—an attack even an upper knight could hardly block.
But the blow never landed.
Raymon couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
His sword slipped from his grasp. No—something else had fallen too.
He saw droplets of blood splattering, only to be deftly deflected by Erin’s blade.
Her swordsmanship was frighteningly precise.
But where had that blood come from…?
Staring blankly at the crimson drops, realization dawned.
‘My hand…?’
His severed hand lay on the ground beside his fallen sword.
Raymon’s mind went blank. He couldn’t process it until the wave of indescribable pain crashed into him.
“Ughhh—!”
He tried to scream, but Erin was quicker—her hand clamped tightly over his mouth.
“Raymon, I truly despise cowards.”
Through the suffocating grip, he managed a muffled plea.
“Sp… spare me…”
At that moment, it no longer mattered how she had overpowered him.
He was going to die. He could feel it.
All will to fight drained from him.
Erin understood exactly where his terror came from.
She had stopped suppressing the unique aura of a Sword Master.
His instincts were screaming at him—the small girl before him could kill him.
Her face was expressionless, drained of human warmth. That emptiness chilled him more than anything.
“I begged too, once.”
“…What?”
“I begged for my life. I clung to your feet and pleaded with you to let me go…”
“……”
“Even if it was hell, I wanted to survive somehow…”
A single tear slid from Erin’s eye.
Pitiful Erin Rysus.
How tragic she had been, desperately wanting to live.
“But you killed me. And just now, you were about to do the same thing again.”
If she hadn’t become a Sword Master, she would’ve been the one lying dead here, not Raymon.
In the past, she had begged at his feet. And he had killed her without a flicker of pity.
I truly loved you once…
But she did not say it aloud. Instead, she asked,
“What were you planning to do to me? Did the Marchioness order you to stop me from ever wielding a sword?”
At her words, Raymon’s eyes flew wide open.
