Lishia Fahlheit belonged to the new nobility.
Her father, Niclas Fahlheit, had originally been a captain of the guard in the Klein Kingdom. After distinguishing himself in a border conflict, however, he had been elevated to the rank of ritter.
As his eldest daughter, Lishia was doing her best as an apprentice ritter.
"Next! Fahlheit!"
"Yes! Ready, ma'am!"
The female apprentice ritters were in the middle of training—specifically, sparring against their instructor with wooden practice swords.
There was no shortage of occasions where female knights were required, such as serving as personal escorts for royal women or high-ranking noble ladies. Even here in the Klein Kingdom, their numbers had steadily grown in recent years.
The instructor overseeing the session was the vice-commander of the Female Ritter Order: Gloria Allstatt.
Her bright brown hair was cropped into a neat, very short cut, which, combined with her auburn eyes, gave her a bright, spirited demeanor. Standing at 168 centimeters, she was tall for a woman, and her lithe, athletic figure drew the quiet admiration of her female peers.
Most of the female knights were daughters of the lower nobility or hailed from established ritter lineages. Gloria's own family was an illustrious house that had produced knights and female ritters for generations.
In such an environment, Lishia, with her newly ennobled father, stood out somewhat like an outsider.
"She really throws herself into it, doesn't she?"
"Well, her family is new nobility. If she doesn't make something of herself, their house will fall to ruin in a single generation."
Roughly half of the colleagues watching Lishia train were highborn daughters who would suffer no real hardship if they failed to earn their knighthood.
"Honestly, I'd rather just be declared unfit early on and get married off," one of them murmured without a hint of shame.
In contrast, the daughters of generational knightly houses held an entirely different perspective.
"As someone born into a long line of knights, there's no way I'm losing to an upstart like her."
"Just look at her stance. No form, no discipline. Not a shred of elegance to speak of."
Whether she heard the whispers or simply paid them no mind, Lishia kept lunging back at the instructor no matter how many times her practice sword was knocked aside. Until finally—
"Kyaa!"
With a resounding blow, she was sent tumbling backward, bringing the bout to a close.
"Th-Thank you very much, ma'am!"
Shoulders heaving as she struggled for breath, Lishia gave a respectful bow.
"All right, that covers everyone. Next up is makiwara cutting. Duty squad, prepare the targets."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Bundles of wheat straw were swiftly fastened to stakes driven firmly into the earth. The purpose of the exercise was to slice clean through them with a blade.
"Listen closely," the instructor called out. "When cutting with a sword, always be conscious of your blade alignment. The edge must meet the target at a clean perpendicular angle. If it doesn't, you won't cut through, and the blade will bounce off, bend, or break entirely."
This drill differed considerably from iai practiced with a Japanese sword, where cuts were typically delivered at a forty-five-degree angle—largely because targets in iai consisted of tightly bound tatami covers, which offered substantial resistance.
By contrast, the straw targets assigned to Lishia and the apprentices were designed merely to instill two fundamentals: maintaining proper blade alignment and pulling the blade slightly through the strike to maximize cutting efficiency. As such, the structural integrity of their straw targets was quite low.
"First, I'll demonstrate."
The weapon of choice for female knights was typically a shortsword. Gloria unclasped the sheath at her hip and drew her blade in one fluid motion.
"Haaah!"
With a sharp, piercing kiai, she delivered a single horizontal strike. The straw bundle fell cleanly in two. A soft collective sigh rippled through the watching apprentices.
"Instructor Allstatt is so cool..." someone whispered.
"All right, step up and try it yourselves. A flat horizontal cut isn't easy. Anderson, you're up."
"Yes, ma'am! Taah!"
"No good. Your blade alignment was tilted. Give me one hundred practice swings. Next, Bogard."
"Yes, ma'am... Hup!"
"What was that supposed to be?! No power, no speed, and not even level! Three hundred swings for you! Next, Carter."
"Yes, ma'am!...Yaah!"
This time, the straw target severed cleanly.
"Good. Passable. Next..."
One by one, the thirty-three apprentice ritters stepped forward to test their mettle against the targets. Anyone who failed to deliver a clean cut was promptly sentenced to practice swings according to how poorly they had performed.
At last, it was Lishia's turn.
"Fahlheit, you're last. Step up."
"Yes, ma'am!...Taah!"
Lishia's blade passed smoothly through the bundle, cleaving it in two.
"Mm, nicely done....Wait. Fahlheit, let me see that sword."
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
Startled by the sudden order, a flustered Lishia handed over her weapon.
"Hmm. My, this is a remarkably well-crafted blade. Where on earth did you get it? The quality is so fine I wouldn't mind one myself."
"U-Um, well, you see... an acquaintance of mine who's a magi craftsman repaired it for me. It was originally just ordinary steel and ended up bent, so he fixed it up and reshaped it..."
Nervous and caught off guard, her explanation came out haltingly, but Gloria seemed to grasp the gist of it.
"I see. You have some very capable acquaintances. Make sure you take good care of it."
Turning back toward the full lineup, Gloria raised her voice.
"We'll wrap up today's session with ten laps around the field. Everyone, double time!"
Barking the order, she took the lead herself, setting a brisk pace.
Ten laps around the training grounds after a grueling full-day regimen was no small feat. A few apprentices dropped out along the way, but Lishia gritted her teeth and pushed through, running every last step even as her lungs burned.
Early the following year, in Continental Calendar 3457, troops from the neighboring Franz Kingdom violated the border. Lishia was assigned to the Relief Ritter Corps and deployed to the front lines.
Some might have considered it a disappointment that she hadn't made it into the Female Ritter Order, while others would view medical service as her true calling. For Lishia, it was unequivocally the latter.
Out on the battlefield, she often found herself remembering a conversation she had once had with Jin.
“Wouldn't it be best to just do what you're capable of doing?” he had told her.
"What I'm capable of doing... is healing, after all."
Thanks to her diligent daily practice, Lishia had mastered mid-level healing magic, earning a reputation as one of the most capable healers in the entire Relief Ritter Corps.
Over the course of that year, border skirmishes broke out three times.
The third confrontation was by far the fiercest. Suffering heavy casualties, the Klein Kingdom Army was forced into a tactical retreat, regrouping in the fortress city of Tetrada, roughly fifty kilometers behind the border, to make their stand against the Franz Kingdom Army.
It was during that critical standoff that it happened.
A colossal golem suddenly appeared, bringing the entire conflict to an abrupt, unceremonious halt.
Every scrap of metal belonging to the Franz Kingdom Army—from their weapons and armor down to their golems and mess kits—was completely melted away. Meanwhile, the Klein Kingdom Army was knocked unconscious before anyone could understand what was happening, awakening to find all their armaments peacefully confiscated.
Stripped entirely of weapons and armor, continuing a battle was out of the question, forcing the Franz Kingdom Army into a full retreat. Lishia and the rest of the garrison remained stationed in Tetrada, awaiting further instructions from central command.
"Lishia. I hear you did exceptional work out there."
During off-duty hours, her father, Niclas, came by to check on her. He was currently serving as the vice-commander of the Klein Kingdom Third Ritter Order.
"Father! You're safe!"
Father and daughter gripped each other's hands, overflowing with relief at finding one another unharmed.
"You really held your own out there, Lishia."
"I did what I could... but there were still so many I couldn't save."
As she lowered her eyes, Niclas offered a gentle, reassuring tone.
"It can't be helped, sweetheart. Every soldier stepped onto that field prepared for the worst. We should count ourselves fortunate that not a single civilian lost their life."
"That's because you and the others fought so hard to protect them."
"Well, that's our duty. And our pride."
A warm, quiet moment passed between father and daughter.
"By the way... about that third son of House Rush..."
Niclas finally brought up the question that had been nagging at him most as a protective father. But Lishia merely blinked in confusion.
"Huh? Who's that?"
Hearing that, Niclas let out a silent, heartfelt sigh of relief.
The following morning.
"Ah... G-Good morning, Lishia-san."
"Good morning, Pascoe-san."
Pascoe Rush looked noticeably flushed, his voice coming out in an awkwardly rigid monotone.
"S-Sure is nice weather today, huh?"
"It's completely overcast, though..."
"Ah, r-right! Ahahaha..."
Laughing awkwardly to brush off the blunder, Pascoe snapped to attention.
"W-Well then, duty calls! I have perimeter security to attend to!"
He tossed a hasty salute and beat a swift retreat.
"Hehe... What a peculiar person."
Lishia watched him go, then turned her gaze toward the sky.
"Perimeter security, huh..."
Idly resting a hand against her hip, she froze as she realized the familiar weight wasn't there.
"Right... It really is gone..."
She had lost the shortsword Jin had repaired for her—the weapon she had cherished so deeply ever since.
Perhaps that, too, was one of the reasons a lingering shadow of melancholy hung over her heart.