"Huff... huff... huff..."
As the sunset's orange glow bathed the ground, Rhodos lay flat on his back, struggling to regulate his breathing.
Watching him from nearby with a weary sigh was not Blatta, but a person Rhodos was meeting for the first time.
The feeling was likely mutual. In fact, within the context of the First Prince Faction, Rhodos was the newcomer, having only recently joined their ranks.
"What's wrong? Out of breath already? I'm surprised you managed to make it into the Main Tournament of the Fighting Tournament with that little stamina."
"I've been... sparring... for hours... straight. What do you... expect?"
Rhodos managed to speak while catching his breath, but the woman—who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, roughly ten years his senior—dismissed his excuse with a blunt tone.
"I wouldn't know. To begin with, Blatta only asked me to spar with you."
"A mock battle... you call that a mock battle!?" Rhodos shouted, his voice cracking with indignation.
His reaction was justified. His body was covered in bruises, and the state of things beneath his armor and clothes was likely far worse.
The woman merely nodded as if his pain were a matter of course.
"Naturally. Real combat is the only true way to hone one's skills, but I can't exactly go that far or you'd be too injured to move. Since we need to conserve potions as much as possible right now, a mock battle is all you get."
Rhodos's ears perked up at that detail. He tried to sound nonchalant as he pressed for more information.
"Why do we need to conserve potions? If you want me to get stronger, shouldn't I be allowed to use them? Besides, isn't it a bit cruel to withhold medical treatment in this situation?"
"Hmph. Complaining about a state that... can barely even be called an injury. Honestly, it's clear just how much you've been pampered until now."
"...So, you have no intention of letting me use a potion?"
"Correct."
Faced with her flat refusal, Rhodos tilted his head, his expression sour.
"Doesn't the First Prince Faction have plenty of funds? Why the sudden need for austerity? Blatta was letting me use them normally this morning."
"According to reports that came in a few hours ago, there have been unsettling movements. The higher-ups are likely saving resources for when they have to crush the opposition to earn points. That's also why I'm here instead of Blatta."
"...I'm one to talk, but is it really okay to speak about your master that way? Couldn't you be punished for lese-majesty or something?"
At Rhodos's remark, the woman snorted, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"His Highness Cabajid is not such a narrow-minded man. ...More importantly, have you caught your breath? The sun hasn't fully set yet, so we're continuing the training."
With that, she leveled the tip of her mock battle longsword at him.
Rhodos, who had only just regained his composure, scrambled to find a reason to delay.
"Wa-Wait. ...I don't even know your name yet. I appreciate the training, but at least tell me who you are!"
It was true; Rhodos didn't even know the name of the woman who had spent the last several hours beating him senseless.
Originally, he was supposed to train with Blatta, but an urgent matter had pulled the man away, and this woman had been sent as a last-minute substitute. She had engaged him in a mock battle immediately upon arrival without a word of introduction.
The woman tilted her head at his desperate cry and nodded as if conceding a point.
"I suppose that's true. My name is Pelfeel. I look forward to working with you."
"O-Oh. I'm Rhodos, though you probably already knew that."
"I see. Well then, Rhodos. Now that the introductions are out of the way, let us... the mock battle..."
"Begin," she was about to say, but she stopped abruptly, shifting her gaze toward the entrance of the training ground.
A single soldier was approaching them—or more accurately, approaching Pelfeel.
"Lady Pelfeel, I have a report."
"What is it?"
"Well, if possible, I'd like to speak with Lady Pelfeel alone..."
The soldier cast a wary glance at Rhodos, clearly debating whether it was safe to speak in front of him.
I guess I can't blame him, Rhodos thought.
He was a newcomer who had only just defected, and a former adventurer of the Kingdom of Mireana to boot. It would be stranger if they weren't suspicious.
Pelfeel, however, waved the concern away.
"Rhodos has joined our cause. Unless it's a matter of the highest confidentiality, you may speak freely. ...Is it a high-level secret?"
"No, well... not exactly, but..."
"Then speak."
"...Understood," the soldier said, though he still hesitated for a moment. "There has been a disturbance at the arena."
Rhodos's body twitched. He knew exactly what that disturbance likely entailed, based on what he had heard that morning.
Rei... what happened?
He focused his mind, determined not to miss a single syllable of the soldier's report. He was so focused that he failed to notice Pelfeel's eyes narrowing as she watched him.
"The target of the attack was Crimson Rei. The assassins were from one of the underground organizations... given that brainwashed personnel were used, it is believed to be the work of the Requiem Bell."
"...Those lot again," Pelfeel muttered with palpable disgust, looking away from Rhodos. As a woman who prided herself on the code of a knight, underground members like assassins and their cowardly tactics were loathsome to her.
"In all probability, there is no mistake."
"And what of Crimson?"
"He is unharmed, as one might expect. In fact, he captured the attackers. The personnel have been handed over by the management committee to the Guard Force and are currently being interrogated in isolation."
"Hou. A brainwashed Doll was captured alive and remained conscious? The Requiem Bell has grown sloppy."
A thin smile touched Pelfeel's lips. Between the Requiem Bell and Crimson, Pelfeel liked neither, but if she had to choose, she preferred Crimson, a man who didn't rely on underhanded schemes.
Beside her, Rhodos let out a subtle sigh of relief.
"Good for you. It seems your nemesis survived."
"I expected as much," Rhodos snorted. "That's Rei we're talking about. I didn't think a man who beat my old man would be taken down by a few assassins."
Pelfeel watched him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "You seem remarkably relieved for someone saying that."
"That's... only because it would be a problem if he were killed before I could defeat him."
"Hmm. Let's go with that, then."
Rhodos frowned, sensing she had seen right through him, but Pelfeel ignored him and prompted the soldier to continue.
"We have received orders that there is no need for us to move. Lady Pelfeel is advised to carry on as usual."
"I see. A pity."
Rhodos couldn't help but ask, "A pity?"
"Yes. It might have been a fine opportunity to meet this Crimson. A man who single-handedly decided the outcome of the Spring War by nearly annihilating the Bestia Imperial Army... it's only natural to want to meet such a figure, isn't it?"
"...I'll tell you now, I'm the one who's going to fight him."
Rhodos had come here specifically to gain the power to challenge Rei. He could not tolerate the idea of someone else interfering with his goal.
Pelfeel gave a light shrug at his glare.
"I know. I'm not saying I want to fight him myself. I just want to see him once. ...Regardless, it seems you've recovered your breath. If you truly intend to challenge Crimson, you are still woefully inadequate. Now, let's continue the training to close that gap."
She gripped her mock battle longsword, a playful smile on her face.
"...Fine."
Rhodos stood up and gripped his own weapon. He couldn't voice a single complaint once Rei's name was used as motivation.
The soldier who had delivered the news gave Rhodos a look of genuine pity before bowing and hurrying away. He knew all too well that staying meant risking being dragged into Pelfeel's grueling regimen.
Within the First Prince Faction, Pelfeel was known as a rational, loyal, and compassionate leader. She was an ideal comrade in almost every way, but her obsession with training was far from popular. She had a habit of dragging anyone nearby into her personal practice, and given that her strength was on par with Blatta's, anyone forced to accompany her was in for a literal hell on earth.
...Though her results were undeniably effective.
"Uooooooooh!"
"What's the matter? You're soft! At this rate, forget Crimson—you'll be lucky to survive a common soldier!"
The soldier left the area with those shouts echoing behind him.
"Huff... huff... huff. ...Damn it. That woman... she doesn't know the meaning of holding back."
Rhodos was now alone in the training yard. It had taken him five minutes after Pelfeel's departure just to muster the strength to stand. Exhausted to the point that his legs felt like jelly, he sighed and looked around to ensure he was alone.
Unsettling movements significant enough to impose potion usage restrictions... that's definitely the Third Prince Faction moving. We're down to the final days, and they've already been noticed... this is bad. I need to report this immediately, but...
The problem was that he didn't know how to reach his contacts. He had met Kyuken that morning, but she had reached out to him; he had no way of initiating contact from his side.
If only I could get a message to that spy Kyuken mentioned...
Sighing again, he began to limp toward his assigned quarters. Even with the cool autumn air, hours of intense training had left him drenched in sweat. He wanted nothing more than to wash it off.
"Um, please use this."
A maid who had been standing a short distance away stepped forward and handed him a cloth.
"Oh? Thanks. I was just thinking I needed to—!?"
Rhodos cut himself off, his breath catching in his throat. Hidden beneath the cloth in the maid's hand was a dagger.
He couldn't mistake it. It was the exact same design as the one Kyuken carried.
That meant...
"The—!?"
"Please, keep your voice down."
At the mention of the Third Prince Faction, the maid gave a sharp, hushed command. She had confirmed that no surveillance was nearby, but she wasn't taking any chances with high-level spies.
"I have brought word that Crimson repelled the attack, just as your intel suggested."
"A-Ah. Yeah. I actually already heard about that."
"So it seems." The maid didn't look disappointed. She simply continued in a flat, businesslike tone. "Then, do you have any new information from your side?"
Rhodos realized this was the real reason she had approached him. He gave a wry, fleeting smile before his expression hardened into seriousness. As he wiped his face with the cloth to maintain appearances, he whispered what Pelfeel had told him.
"Be careful. The First Prince Faction is onto something. They didn't explicitly name the Third Prince, but they seem certain a major conflict is imminent. They've already restricted potion usage to stockpile for the crackdown."
The maid's eyes widened ever so slightly at the news. "That is... faster than we anticipated. It would have been better if they had remained ignorant for a few more days..."
"I figured. Also, what do you know about that female knight, Pelfeel?"
"Yes, she is one of the most capable warriors in the First Prince Faction. We have a file on her."
As Rhodos rested his aching body and wiped his sweat, the two continued their clandestine exchange. To any distant onlooker, however, the scene looked like nothing more than a quiet, romantic tryst between an exhausted warrior and a helpful maid.