SN Chapter 9

Roseline had confronted that limitation and refused to despair. She'd worked. She'd trained longer than anyone else and studied harder than anyone else. She'd honed her strengths and refused to look away from her weaknesses. Even those who'd dismissed her with quiet disdain for being a woman knight had gradually changed their minds after watching her efforts.

When the news came of her promotion to senior knight, Raymond had celebrated as if it were his own achievement. He'd rejoiced that her efforts, her heart, hadn't been in vain. He'd even tried to kiss the vice-captain who'd delivered the promotion news—and gotten punched for his trouble. So he couldn't give up now.

What Roseline had wished for, what she'd tried to protect—even if Roseline herself had forgotten, those things hadn't disappeared. He couldn't let this hard-won opportunity slip away. Raymond accepted the sword from her hands.

He held the blade upright before him. The broad bastard sword partially obscured his face. Roseline watched his every movement in silence.

"You can't even hold a sword properly right now... What exactly will you be able to do if you return to the order, Roseline?"

"Still..."

"Still?"

"Have to go."

"Why?"

Raymond turned the sword horizontal before his face. Beyond the sharp edge, he could see Roseline's eyes gleaming with intensity.

"To protect the master of White Night."

Raymond grinned. She'd lost her memory, yet she remembered the most important thing. That was so like her. Roseline had always possessed an exceptional ability to grasp the essence of any situation, anywhere, anytime. He simply hadn't expected that talent to manifest even under these circumstances.

Raymond laughed and stepped back sharply, putting distance between them. Kallix noticed what Raymond intended and retreated as well.

"Watch carefully, Roseline. Remember well. You must remember."

Raymond closed his eyes briefly, then opened them as he moved. Though his height was as striking as Kallix's, he moved with remarkable speed. His movements were precise, flowing as naturally as water. These were the most fundamental techniques of Illavénian imperial swordsmanship. Roseline observed every detail with keen attention. Watch carefully, remember well. Following his words, she watched without blinking once. Her green eyes tracked Raymond's movements. Swish, swish. Her concentration was almost frightening.

Thrust, slash, block. The sword tip pointed skyward, cut through empty air, grazed the ground. Wind rushed loudly through every space the blade passed. Despite the considerable distance between them, the sword's sharpness felt vivid.

"Hah."

Raymond stopped his movements, holding the sword before his face as he'd begun. By the time a smile returned to his serious expression, Roseline could finally blink her dry eyes.

"Done! If you can do just this much, you're halfway there. Actually, since you used your head more than your body in the past, we'll take the rest step by step and—"

"Once more."

"Hm?"

Roseline frowned. Why are you making me repeat myself? That was precisely her expression.

"Once more."

Raymond fumbled—uh... what? R-right—and hurriedly performed the sword demonstration a second time. He recalled his childhood when he'd first learned the blade. He'd practiced hundreds of times each day. Back then it had felt tedious enough to drive him mad, exhausting beyond measure, but looking back now, even that was a memory. As he finished the second demonstration with a silent chuckle—

"Once more."

"...Why... why am I getting a bad feeling about this, Roseline...?"

Raymond had to endure hearing "once more, once more, once more" endlessly until that difficult memory from his past became present reality. His sword moved without stopping for hours. Until night arrived and moonlight sparkled on the blade. Glint, glint.

"I'm billing you... I'm definitely charging you for sword instructor fees!"

"Do it. Kallix has plenty of money."

"Damn! That's true!"

"..."

Kallix watched their exchange with an expression of disbelief. Raymond collapsed roughly onto the sofa, gasping for breath. His uniform, buttoned to the collar when he'd arrived, now hung open except for two buttons. The disheveled state would have earned a scolding from the old Roseline.

"Thank you for your hard work. At least stay for dinner, Sir Raymond."

Raymond waved his hand dismissively. He seemed too exhausted even to answer.

"I need to return to duty soon myself. Hah. I appreciate the offer, but my schedule is tight. But will today's effort amount to anything? She didn't move her body herself, just watched?"

Kallix smirked.

"My sister has an excellent memory."

"That would be fortunate. Ah, the investiture ceremony is in two weeks. Please, by then... somehow... Roseline's manner of speech..."

"..."

"The investiture ceremony for those appointed as senior knights will be conducted by His Highness the Second Prince himself. When he declares, 'I hereby appoint Dame Roseline of Redvielle as a senior knight!' we must prevent a situation where she responds with 'Yeah. Right.' Just imagining it gives me chills."

Kallix shuddered in agreement. Two weeks. That was all the time remaining to master swordsmanship and etiquette—only two weeks. Raymond explained he'd barely managed to visit during a busy break, so they'd likely next meet at the imperial palace. Roseline answered, "Yeah, okay." Their spines went cold again.

Raymond left the estate with the siblings' farewell. Roseline retrieved the rapier hanging in her room and returned to the training hall. Despite Kallix and the maid announcing it was dinnertime, she sat in the center of the training hall with closed eyes, unmoving.

Beyond her closed eyes, a man in white uniform appeared. He swung his sword with brown hair streaming behind him. Finding his body's center, guarding to move left, right, any direction, gentle yet strong. He moved endlessly before Roseline. She recalled that image for a long while. Swollen muscles shifted visibly beneath his uniform. Sweat dripped down his hair. Drip, drip. The phantom of his wind-cutting blade slashed across her again and again.

Roseline drew her sword. It differed in form and weight from his bastard sword. But she moved without hesitation. Kallix watched her quietly. Thanks to Raymond's hours of demonstration, she remembered the sequence and form of movements clearly. But it was still quite crude. She'd only just grasped a sword for the first time, and even her grip was a mess—perhaps that was inevitable. Yet with each swing of her blade, the form began gradually refining itself.

Her significantly different physique imposed various limitations on imitating Raymond. After several swings, she seemed to realize this. Perhaps she'd understood instinctively through countless repetitions. She didn't blindly follow Raymond's movements, but she precisely understood the meaning behind each motion. Slashing, thrusting, blocking, attacking, defending, anchoring the body's center.

She found herself within Raymond's movements. Roseline's build, the strength this current body possessed, the sword's length. It was a rational and remarkably clever form considering everything. Within hours, she displayed the exceptional skill of someone who'd wielded a sword for years.

Like Raymond ending his forms, she held her sword before her face. White moonlight illuminated Roseline from behind, eyes closed. Her flowing black hair rippled and melted into the night sky.

The nation of Idelabheim, who drove out Kreyan Tithanion, god of darkness, and brought light to the world. The Holy Empire of Illavénia. Its size matched the widespread reputation spread across every corner of the continent. The dazzlingly brilliant white castle shone bright enough to hurt the eyes, stretching so wide that no end appeared no matter how far one looked, rising tremendously high.

Roseline observed the beautiful castles lined up in rows through the carriage window. White. Many. These tall castles built according to consistent rules possessed a very different character from the forest where she'd lived. This quiet, silent, beautiful place fell closer to [dislike] than [like] among the two options. Her instincts churned uneasily.

Kallix, who always stayed by Roseline's side, wasn't beside her now. Only Roseline had departed for the capital city of Tigaard. He had a duty to protect Redvielle territory as the count's proxy. Only memories remained with her—memories of Kallix's endless nagging and worry plastered across his gaze.

You mustn't. You shouldn't do that. That's not allowed. This is even more forbidden. If you really do that, it'll be terrible—absolutely not. So many things forbidden. Humans were a species that bought their own suffering.

"Roseline!"

The carriage traveled far even after passing through the imperial palace gates. Upon descending, Roseline immediately spotted Raymond running toward her from the distance. Raymond stopped before her, gasping for breath.

"It's been a while, Sir Raymond. Have you been well?"

"...You can be casual with me, Roseline."

Raymond glimpsed someone's efforts in her appearance. Tears nearly pricked his eyes. Raymond helped unload her luggage from the carriage. Knight apprentices under Raymond's command carried her belongings to the dormitory. It was a neat, large building. Though she hadn't received her official investiture yet, her promotion to senior knight meant she'd been moved to a spacious, better room. There wasn't much luggage to fill that spacious place. A few pure white uniforms, several swords, casual clothes and daily necessities. As she roughly tossed her luggage down, Raymond carefully unpacked and organized everything.