A total of six participants divided into three pairs. Lina Riley's luck was exceptionally good—she drew the contestant who'd fallen from her horse and injured her leg during the earlier riding-and-archery event and had chosen to forfeit.
While the other two pairs were still battling, Lina drank water calmly and observed. Willa Langley was skilled with her broadsword; her attacks were heavy and swift. Before long, her opponent—pushed to the brink—missed a gap in his defense, and Willa sent him flying with a kick.
After winning, Willa leveled her blade at Lina in a blatant challenge. Yet Lina merely returned a tranquil smile, leaving Willa vexed. She had wanted to see Lina lose her composure, but no matter what she tried, Lina remained friendly—driving Willa mad with frustration.
Resting her sword on her shoulder, Willa shot Lina a dark glare and spat with disdain, "Just like my mother said: All you Rileys are a bunch of two-faced phonies."
Watching Willa storm off, Lina sighed inwardly. In her previous life, they'd gotten to know each other after coming to blows. Willa's nature wasn't bad—just excessively spoiled.
"Winnie Wren wins!"
A sudden gust of wind fluttered Winnie's robes as she sheathed her sword with practiced ease. Bowing, she murmured a polite, "Thank you for yielding."
Noticing Lina watching, Winnie approached. For a moment, Lina flashed back to her past life: so many partings on the battlefield, so many times she had braced for her own end, haunted by grief. In those dark days, Winnie would often come to talk her through it, just as she was doing now.
Seeing Lina spaced out, Winnie teased with a smile, "Miss Lina, please go easy on me later."
Startled back to reality, Lina felt a pang of guilt. She had let hatred cloud her vision, forgetting the friend she had once lost so long ago. Lina offered a quick, embarrassed smile. "Alright."
Seated on the high platform, The Princess Royal saw this exchange and frowned. A surge of irritation burned in her chest, and she longed to leap down and separate the two of them. That anger, in turn, provoked another frustration: she refused to believe she harbored any special feelings for Lina Riley, yet her reaction suggested a fierce possessiveness. Why? Perhaps it stemmed from that earlier marking encounter…
The more Lucille Everard dwelled on it, the darker her expression grew. A steady tap-tap-tap of her fingers on the table made Emilia Everard, seated beside her, straighten with apprehension.
Down on the field, the final drawing of lots began. Three participants remained, so one would receive a bye. Willa Langley eagerly grabbed a bamboo slip first—bearing the character "one." Lina's slip was blank. Glancing at Winnie's slip, Lina saw it too showed the character "one."
Which meant Lina drew the bye yet again. She sighed at her good fortune but sensed a sudden tension in the air. She realized she stood between Willa and Winnie. She could practically smell the gunpowder in the air, so she quietly ducked away.
Willa eyed the slender sword at Winnie's waist, letting out a mocking laugh. "Such a flimsy thing."
Winnie, her smile laced with steel, retorted, "Not everyone can compare with your… impressive build."
A dull throb pounded at Lina's temples. In her past life, these two had stuck together like glue. But here they were, glaring daggers. Soon the match between them began.
Willa's broadsword sliced straight for Winnie's neck, brutally fast. Lina inhaled sharply, her eyes locked on the fight. Yet Winnie was anything but ordinary—she sidestepped nimbly and slipped behind Willa, thrusting at her back. Lina nearly jumped onto the stage in alarm, but fortunately, Willa managed to dodge.
From start to finish, their battle was vicious. Each tried to land a lethal blow, and Lina's heart pounded crazily with every clash. In the end, Willa's blade cleaved Winnie's sword, grazing her neck and ending the contest.
Only then could Lina relax. Both were formidable: Winnie's agility nearly balanced out her lesser strength, leaving them both considerably injured. Winnie picked up her broken sword, pressing it to her numb arm as she stepped off the stage. Willa's garments were riddled with small tears, each oozing blood.
Lina felt complicated. Still, having some medicinal salve from her elder sister, she hurried forward to offer it to Winnie. Surprised, Winnie managed a faint smile. "You're very kind, Miss Lina."
Lina replied with a soft "Mm," then moved on to Willa. Opening her palm, she wordlessly presented another bottle of medicine. Willa seemed caught off guard but promptly smacked it away, the little vial rolling across the ground.
"Don't pretend to be so nice!"
Undeterred, Lina retrieved it and set it near Willa's feet before walking off. But Willa was in dreadful pain—her wounds, damp with sweat, stung fiercely, placing her at a real disadvantage in the next round. The thought of losing to a Riley only fueled her resentment. She scowled and kicked the bottle aside.
The contest pressed on regardless. Lina hefted her spear onto the stage, while Willa had already taken her stance, glowering at Lina with undisguised malice. Yet Lina noted how Willa's hand trembled on her sword's hilt. After a moment's hesitation, Lina shifted her spear from her skilled left hand to her less adept right, deciding that was only fair.
If there were no other factors, she might even let Willa win. But…
Lina's gaze rose and briefly intersected with The Princess Royal's, then darted away.
She still owed that tenfold bet. Sorry, my friend—I can't afford to lose.
Steeling herself, Lina lunged the instant the match began. She knew Willa too well: her first strike was a low thrust, forcing Willa to block with brute force, but that left an opening as the blade swung up. Lina capitalized, delivering a solid kick that knocked Willa back several paces.
Willa's face went pale. Lina halted her assault, uncertain. But Willa saw mercy as humiliation. Already unsteady, she threw caution aside and came at Lina wildly. Weighing her options, Lina shifted to a defensive style.
Others might not catch on, but Lucille Everard noticed Lina holding back and couldn't fathom why. Why not finish Willa swiftly? In Lucille's eyes, the battlefield demanded ruthless pragmatism, not misplaced kindness; she needed a general, not a do-gooder.
Throughout the fight, Lina could easily have claimed victory. Instead, she employed a mild strategy, dragging out the match. Willa eventually dropped her sword with a clang, her hand shaking uncontrollably. While she had been flailing, Lina barely broke a sweat.
Resting her spear at her side, Lina said simply, "Thank you for letting me win."
She hoped onlookers would chalk Willa's defeat up to her injuries—and Lina's annoyingly cautious style—so no one would suspect Lina's true skill or blame her for injuring Willa further. A normal contestant might have yielded, especially with The Princess Royal presiding. But Willa was anything but normal.
"I refuse to accept this!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing in the hushed arena. Eyes wide, the crowd glanced apprehensively at Lucille Everard—who appeared to have dozed off, eyes shut.
Emilia Everard, alarmed, snapped, "That's enough! Guards, take her away!"
Immediately, soldiers strode forward to drag Willa away. Despite her exhaustion, she managed to break their grasp, stumbling a few steps before falling to her knees. "It's not fair! Please, Your Majesty, set another date for a rematch!"
Emilia was incensed. Willa had bypassed The Princess Royal and appealed straight to her, in effect cornering the monarch. Casting a furtive look at her older sister, Emilia found Lucille awake, staring back with a mysterious smile that concealed a smoldering wrath.
"Royal Sister…" Emilia whispered, dreading her reaction.
Lina, too, realized how dire the situation was. If Lucille lost her temper, Willa would likely die on the spot. Lina rushed forward, kneeling. "Miss Langley has already fought two tough battles and sustained serious injuries. My victory wasn't honorable—I'd be willing to fight another day."
Willa blinked, stunned, then assumed Lina was faking. She opened her mouth to curse, but Lucille's cold voice sliced through the tension from atop the platform. "Willa Langley, you object?"
Willa steadied herself enough to respond. "Yes. It's unfair. I beg The Princess Royal to let me face her again on another day."
Lucille chuckled lightly, but no one else dared to laugh. Most onlookers pitied Willa; others anticipated the show of her head rolling. Lina's heart sank. Had her second life ended up with Willa dying even earlier than before? She had to do something.
She edged closer on her knees, her expression resolute. "Your Highness, I won unjustly. I'm willing to relinquish the honor that should belong to Miss Langley."
I'll repay that huge debt myself if I have to!
But Lucille felt anything but placated. She saw how Willa had scorned Lina from the start, while Lina was prepared to sacrifice everything—even her massive bet—for Willa's sake. The realization grated on her nerves. Rising, Lucille strode forward and smoothly pulled a sword from a waiting soldier. Slowly, she wiped the blade. With every brush, the crowd's collective dread mounted.
Emilia dared not intervene. A fleeting glimpse of pity crossed her face as she looked at Willa. She knew Lucille obviously favored Lina, so Lina's impertinence might be overlooked, but Willa's would not.
Finally, Lucille set the sword aside. Casting a sardonic look at the two figures still kneeling on the stage, she remarked, "If this is a martial competition, fairness is essential."
Willa's hopes soared, and Lina quietly exhaled in relief. She gave Willa a small smile, thinking the crisis averted. But before Willa could voice her thanks, Lucille added in a deceptively casual tone, "That said, there'll be no new date. Considering your injuries, let's use a different method."
Lina barely had time to comprehend before she felt a surge of killing intent zero in on her. Reflexes honed on the battlefield had her snatching up her spear to block. Lucille's blade smashed against the spear's shaft, and Lina braced with all her strength, looking up into Lucille's smile.
Her voice was close enough to send a chill through Lina. "In that case, let me test personally whether she deserves it."
Panic flashed through Lina's mind. She had no idea what kindled Lucille's fury against her, but at that tense moment, Lucille bent near her ear and whispered, "Someone I've chosen couldn't possibly have won by luck."