SN Chapter 20

The rumor spread like wildfire. Dame Rosaline, the senior knight freshly assigned to escort duty, had crushed the assassins into pulp. A few maids cleaning blood from the floor, a few soldiers taking custody of the assassins—the witnesses transformed her exploits into legend.

Assassination attempts on Rikardis were always enthusiastic. But a direct attack in broad daylight with concealed weapons, disguised as castle staff? That could be counted on one hand. The malice surrounding him had intensified, and the methods were growing more sophisticated.

The dangerous attempt—first and potentially last if successful—crumbled in an instant because of a single escort knight. Perhaps expectations for a mere new escort knight had been exceptionally low. Rosaline's achievement shone all the brighter.

Rosaline's trainee knights, Eberhardt and Rhaetisia, heard the news shortly after. Five assassins tried to harm His Highness Rikardis, and Dame Rosaline—as if she had eight arms—swung her blade and caught them all. Amid flying poison and concealed weapons, Rosaline didn't have a single scratch, and where she'd passed, blood flowed like a river. Or so they said. Truth mixed with exaggeration transformed into sensational gossip passing from mouth to mouth.

Rhaetisia spotted Rosaline entering the training grounds and jabbed Eberhardt's ribs. Eberhardt, his uniform unbuttoned and loosely worn, hastily straightened his appearance.

"Glory to Idelabheim who cleaves the Onyx Moon!"

"Glory to Idelabheim who cleaves the Onyx Moon!"

Like the rumors spreading wildly through the castle, she appeared without the slightest injury. Dried blood clung to her white uniform, offering a glimpse of the fierce battle's aftermath. Rosaline greeted them with a tranquil expression.

"Idelabheim's glory upon you both."

Rosaline stood with the crimson sunset at her back. Shadows fell across her face. Within half a day, she'd earned the nickname "Reaper of Moonstone Castle"—and the image suited her perfectly. They gazed at her with reverent eyes.

Despite it being her first day on escort duty, despite the fierce battle with assassins! She'd carved out precious time to check on her trainee knights. Their spirits lifted as they stood rigidly at attention. Rosaline surveyed them thoroughly. They'd been swinging their swords diligently—even in the cool breeze, sweat continued flowing.

Rosaline had learned various things from Raymond and Kallix. The White Night Order had many trainee knights. But within the order, they weren't even called knights—most were simply referred to as trainees.

Advancing to lower knight status, earning recognition as proper knights, was their greatest goal. Rhaetisia came from fallen nobility and was female. Eberhardt was a commoner. All trainee knights were desperate, but these two were especially so. No matter how hard they worked, without family backing, practical limitations abounded. Financial concerns aside, they lacked even the environment to learn proper swordsmanship.

Before any conviction, before factional allegiance, the greatest criterion separating lower knights from trainees was skill with the blade. They remained trainees because they hadn't cleared the threshold dividing the two ranks.

Rosaline had been assigned the task of elevating these two to lower knight status. Last night before sleeping, she'd pondered carefully. What they lacked. What humans lacked. Rosaline had a general idea. But first, she needed to assess the trainees' abilities. She picked up a wooden sword rolling in the training ground's corner. The dull wood's texture felt familiar. She ran her fingers over the sword's surface.

"Let's see. Rhaetisia, Eberhardt."

Rhaetisia and Eberhardt flustered in confusion. Meanwhile, Rosaline raised her sword before her face. The ready stance before a match. The two trainees glanced at each other hesitantly. You want to go first? Should I go first? They deferred the order through eye contact. The image of Nestor—recently beaten by her—flickered in their minds. He still walked around with bruises on his face. Watching the two trainees, Rosaline spoke. Her calm voice dropped heavily onto the training ground. Thud.

"Both. Together."

"What? Yes!"

"Yes!"

The two hurriedly grabbed wooden swords. A two-on-one confrontation. Rosaline surveyed them as they stood tensely with swords raised. Their stances were clumsy, like they'd learned only superficially. Openings everywhere—if a demon beast had been in front of them, they'd have been devoured already.

Rosaline tensed her arm. Her muscles twitched very subtly. Movement imperceptible without close observation. The two didn't seem to notice, but already the space around them filled with an ominous, massive presence contradicting that small movement. Sharp enough to behead them at any moment.

"..."

Rosaline lost her words. They were like... baby deer. No, their threat detection was worse than baby deer's. Even as she threatened from various directions—left, right, below, above—they just stared with expressions asking, "Huh? When are you attacking?"

Rosaline lowered her sword. Without a single clack of wooden swords meeting, the match ended. Rhaetisia and Eberhardt couldn't hide their bewilderment. But for Rosaline, this exploratory exchange had been sufficient to assess their abilities.

Even trainee knights had some time learning basic swordsmanship. But it stopped at fundamentals—how to swing a blade. Even their only opportunity to cross swords with others, sparring time, used protective gear and wooden swords, familiarizing them with "sparring" rather than actual combat. Feeling danger from swinging blunt wooden swords while worrying about each other's safety would be extraordinarily difficult.

Rosaline had felt the same since becoming human. They severely lacked the threat of death, the sense of crisis, instinct itself. Unless humans were exceptionally strong, humanity was truly a weak species. She understood what assignment they needed.

"It's serious."

The two trainees visibly deflated.

"...Where... serious..."

"Everything is extremely serious."

"Ah... yes..."

Eberhardt and Rhaetisia glanced at her nervously. Rosaline sighed.

"From now on, I will attack Eberhardt and Rhaetisia."

"What?"

"Don't let your guard down from morning until you sleep."

I will target you anywhere, anytime. Rosaline's level, quiet tone and the content itself sent chills down their spines. Goosebumps rose on their arms. What did this mean? They hadn't heard of such strange training methods from trainees under other senior knights. Just ordinary teaching—trainees swung swords, senior knights pointed out deficiencies or taught techniques. Rhaetisia hesitantly raised her hand. When Rosaline tilted her head, she asked cautiously.

"Um, Dame Rosaline. Could you explain a bit more specifically?"

Rosaline pondered briefly, then dropped a handkerchief embroidered with flowers from her pocket onto the ground. Raymond had hand-embroidered it as a gift. Under the trainees' puzzled gaze, she bent down and reached for the fallen handkerchief. Then stopped just an inch before grabbing it.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Rhaetisia?"

Rhaetisia's eyes darted around before she answered haltingly.

"It seems... you're about to pick up the handkerchief."

"Correct."

Rosaline picked up the handkerchief. Then she approached bushes beside the training ground and firmly grasped a thin branch. The branch bent as if about to snap. Rosaline didn't apply more force and stopped again.

"What does it look like I'm going to do, Eberhardt?"

"It looks like you're going to break the branch."

"Correct."

Rosaline broke the branch.

"During the match just now, I tried attacking Rhaetisia and Eberhardt several times."

"What?"

"Huh?"

You just stood there? Both were confused. She'd definitely just stood still...

"You were completely unaware."

"Ah... yes..."

Eberhardt finally understood Rosaline's actions and words. Of course she hadn't grabbed the handkerchief or broken the branch. But anyone could have recognized clearly what she would do next. During the match, though less obvious, she must have distinctly shown pre-attack signs. Subtly moving eyes. Weight shifting to one foot. Muscles contracting and expanding as her sword-hand tensed.

Rosaline was saying they'd failed to read those signs. Rhaetisia also seemed to grasp her meaning. Both flushed red. Their inadequacies had been laid bare in every aspect.

"Read them."

Not just what's visible, but that realm where instinct speaks.

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

Rhaetisia and Eberhardt's voices rang loudly through the training ground. Rosaline, called the Reaper of Moonstone Castle, was truly as formidable as the rumors suggested. Their chests swelled. After saluting her, they returned to the dormitory feeling fulfilled.

Their world flipped 180 degrees starting when Rosaline dropped from the sky and attacked them during their careless journey back.