"...Look, the Fencing Ordinaire is practicing again. Doesn't she know it's hopeless by now...?"
"Don't say that, I actually pity her. She's a princess of this Kingdom, yet, compared to her sister..."
You know I can hear you all, right?
Still, I will not retort against them.
It'd be pointless. After all, they're right.
I've kept practicing swordsmanship for years, but I've never even seen a noticeable improvement.
If only I was even 10% as talented as my sister....
That's what I'd been thinking for as long as I could remember. She always takes all the honors, basks in all the pride. She could never comprehend the burdens I, Alexia Midgar, shoulder.
It was a day just like any other. I was using a weakling as a sparring partner in the Gymnasium to at least feel the illusion of being strong.
The Gymnasium boasted a spacious wooden floor, its surface crisscrossed by neat white lines that delineated the boundaries of various training areas. Sturdy, reinforced walls enclosed the space, providing ample support for the sparring sessions of the future Dark Knights.
Open doors dotted the walls, allowing streams of natural light to pass and bathe the training grounds in a warm glow.
This place, frequented by me more than any other, has become a familiar backdrop to my struggles.
Before our fight could conclude, I noticed the weakling I was fighting kicked away at a speed faster than I could register.
Baffled, I looked at who did such a thing.
It was a man with raven hair and red eyes, with an all-too-familiar appearance.
'Fray Von Garoff?'
Questions flooded my mind, but before I could voice any, he beat me to the punch.
"Princess Alexia, I'd like to take you up on that spar you proposed earlier."
I get it, but did he really have to send my sparring partner flying like a sack of potatoes?
Well, he wasn't exactly a gem, to be honest.
I silenced the instructor from jumping into the conversation.
After all, I was the one who threw down the gauntlet in the first place.
Around the Academy, he was infamous as utterly useless, incapable of wielding even a speck of Magical Power in a real brawl. A habitual drunkard coasting along on his family's coattails.
The ideal opponent for me.
---
We squared off, swords clashing as I decided to unleash my full strength without restraint.
I wasn't mistaken.
His blade was a blur, striking like lightning. In the blink of an eye, he had me on the defensive, aiming for my vulnerable spots. I had to react fast, parrying his onslaught with all I had.
The clash sent shockwaves through my arms, leaving them quivering with the strain. But that wasn't all. As we locked blades, I could feel the subtle give in my weapon, evidence of the force behind his strikes.
Was this the same guy everyone talked about? He must have tapped into something, some hidden well of strength. Perhaps a drug, enhancing his abilities beyond normal limits.
That's why he accepted my request this readily...
As we were in a stalemate, I had the opportunity to ask
"Why did you want to fight me so badly?"
I could already piece together his motive. It seemed this guy aimed to boost his sorry reputation by flaunting a victory over me. While I might not be the pinnacle of strength, I at least held a mediocre standing in the Academy. And here he was, scraping the bottom of the barrel.
His victory would undoubtedly elevate his reputation.
When I pressed him for answers, he merely grinned, his words a whispered taunt meant for my ears alone.
"Don't you think it'd be funny to see Trash-kun and Ordinaire-san fight one on one? To see who's weaker?"
I didn't expect this.
My tone grew colder.
"This isn't amusing. I'm genuinely curious to know who granted you the audacity to spew such nonsense in front of the princess of this Kingdom. Aren't you afraid of facing severe consequences? I could have you executed right now for a grave offense against royalty."
Enduring a lifetime of people trampling on me had made me resilient, but that didn't mean I accepted it.
"Well, are you planning to summon the Royal Knights for my immediate execution, dear Princess?"
This man was pushing all the wrong buttons, and my patience was wearing thin.
I unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks, expecting him to retaliate. To my surprise, he continued to expertly parry and evade, refusing to initiate an attack of his own.
Yet, in the midst of the confrontation, a disquieting realization crept over me.
His fighting style, it was shifting subtly, evolving during the duel until it mirrored my own...!
Every move, every clash, every parry—it mirrored my reflection in a twisted, unsettling dance. The familiarity bred an eerie sense of discomfort, as if I were fighting a distorted version of myself.
His intense gaze locked onto mine, drowning out the noise of the bustling training yard. In that singular moment, it felt as though time itself stood still.
The clash of our swords echoed through the air, the sound of metal meeting metal reverberating with a deafening intensity that commanded the attention of all those present.
"This, is what you have been doing your entire life. Copying someone else. Do you think by doing that, I have become stronger, or weaker...?"
'What does he...'
As he inquired, I found myself lost in thought for a brief moment. It was evident that he surpassed me in every way – I wasn't so conceited as to deny that. However, the strange thing was, the more he mirrored my movements, the more I found an advantage in our fight.
"...I can see you've grasped the essence of what I meant."
His words barely registered. Instead, my mind involuntarily traveled back to a time when I watched my older sister train in solitude. In those early days, I yearned not just to be like her but to surpass her—to become her.
'If only I could become her...'
I shook myself out of my contemplation when he closed the remaining distance between us.
"It's time to step out of your sister's shadow, Princess. If you don't, you will perish in this unforgiving world that refuses to recognize your efforts."
I yearned to press him for answers, but in an instant, a surge of newfound vigor pulsated through his sword. The intensity escalated, overpowering me and abruptly shifting the balance in our prolonged deadlock.
The force behind the impact sent me hurtling backward, crashing through the wall. The world blurred as rubble cascaded around me, the training yard now transformed into a scene of chaos.
I could hear gasps and screams all over, but I could not focus. Blood trickled down my face, and the throbbing pain hinted at severe injuries. A mere drug couldn't explain this strength.
Questions swirled in my hazy thoughts.
With great effort, I clutched my sword, using it to support myself as I staggered to my feet amidst the wreckage. The air was thick with the acrid scent of dust and sweat.
Vomiting blood, I could feel its irony taste as I summoned defiance from the depths of my being.
"Y-You...know nothing...about me."
Who are you to tell me I should change? You bastard.
The painful truth hovered on the edges of my consciousness, threatening to engulf me in its bitter embrace. But I couldn't bring myself to admit it.
To acknowledge that all those years of effort had amounted to nothing but a futile pursuit. If I accepted that reality, what would be left...of me?
In a barely audible whisper, I uttered words laden with self-doubt and sorrow.
"I may be nothing more than a stubborn, foolish princess, forever trapped in my sister's shadow... But even so...
Even so..."
I felt like I was out of breath, my body's strength slowly leaving me. I couldn't speak properly.
"You may be stubborn, but you are not trapped. Your sword has told me plenty during this exchange. You have the potential to grow stronger. You're just dumb," he declared, his words a confusing mix of encouragement and criticism.
What did that... even mean?
Could my seemingly useless Sword Style truly convey anything meaningful to others? All I could recall were the mocking sneers of my opponents, who saw me as nothing more than a foolish princess wielding a futile art.
Talent was not on my side. My sister excelled far beyond me. I was condemned to live in her formidable shadow. If only I had been blessed with a bit more Magical Power...
These were the cruel thoughts that haunted me after every fight, words I couldn't escape as they reverberated through my mind. But...
That was the first time someone said anything like that to me.
I felt the strength completely drain from my limbs, and strong hands caught me before I crumbled to the ground.
"Shameless... Bastard," I managed to hiss through gritted teeth.
How dare he feign concern for me? When I regain consciousness... I'll ensure the royal knights... execute...
My head spun wildly, the world blurring into darkness as I succumbed to unconsciousness.
---
Author's Note:
Mission 1: Meet Alexia Midgar
Achieved
Mission 2: Meet Iris Midgar
TBD
(Soon!)
So, let's start a serious debate here.
Alexia
Iris
Who you pickin?
Anyway, on my Patreon, more pics of the MC, wielding Magical Power this time!