The morning before the finals.
The rest day would conclude today. At the Razgrim army encampment, those still nursing their fatigue rested, while anyone capable of moving checked their gear for tomorrow's championship match. The shields and armor repaired by Elsa and the Master Blacksmith had begun trickling back in, and the crisp metallic clicks of tightening buckles echoed from all around.
Walking among the soldiers, Lydia came to a sudden halt. Everything looked so vastly different from when she had first arrived two months ago. Yet perhaps it was not the soldiers who had changed.
"...Or perhaps the one who changed was me."
She murmured softly, amused by the thought.
When she had first set foot in the Razgrim domain, she had harbored nothing but disdain for Vain Razgrim. He was a young count dogged by scandalous rumors, brazenly declaring his desire to live a life of decadence.
Unable to fathom why her father was so fond of such a man, she had even suspected some hidden, ulterior motive. Even after meeting him in person, her dislike had lingered for quite a while. Despite knowing she was the daughter of House Eldran, his attitude never shifted, even with her father standing right beside him. He simply said whatever crossed his mind.
—Naturally, she had thought him an insolent fool.
Even so, after spending two months under the same roof, she had inevitably seen the truth. In his domain, the people spoke of Vain with expressions that bore no resemblance to the rumors. Back at the estate, neither Clarice nor Mylene lived in terror of their master.
Even the former bandits among his soldiers were well-fed and provided with medical care, now marching all the way to the royal capital beneath the duke's banner. When facing royalty, Vain remained entirely himself—saying what needed to be said and flatly refusing what he disliked. Even after his elevation from count to duke, he never once brandished his new authority to silence those around him.
The man she had once dismissed as the absolute worst count was someone she could no longer view in such a light. Before she had even realized it, addressing him as "Lord Vain" had become second nature. It was not because he had become a duke... but rather, deep down, she had simply come to acknowledge him.
Moreover, living in Razgrim had prompted her to reflect on her own identity far more often. Back in Eldran, wherever she went, she was always Galvas Eldran's daughter. A seat was prepared for her at every war council, and whenever she gave an order, the soldiers obeyed without question. She had taken that deference for granted, prideful in her belief that she possessed a natural gift for military affairs.
Yet now, a nagging question lingered in her mind... Back then, had the soldiers truly seen her? Had they obeyed because it was Lydia's command, or simply because the daughter of Duke Eldran had given the order? The thought had never even crossed her mind before.
Razgrim was different. Raisa-dono never pulled her punches just because Lydia was a duke's daughter. If an idea seemed flawed, she called it out immediately; conversely, if a tactic proved sound, she adopted it without hesitation. The soldiers had not granted her special treatment from the start, either. Yet now, whenever she raised her voice, they moved as one.
In the semifinals, Raisa-dono had even entrusted her with overall command midway through the battle, and three hundred soldiers had marched at her word. Not as a daughter trading on her father's renown, but as a commander in her own right.
Recalling that sensation still brought a faint warmth to her chest. Two months ago, she could never have imagined feeling proud to lead the Razgrim army. But tomorrow, she would challenge her father's forces alongside these very men. And—she wanted to win. Her heart was completely free of doubt.
◇
As Lydia spread a sheet of paper across a desk to draft tomorrow's formations, Vain strode into the encampment and made his way toward her.
"Lydia, perfect timing. About tomorrow—is there anything that catches your eye from your perspective? I plan to talk it over with Raisa later, but you know our next opponent best, don't you?"
Lydia halted her brush, knitting her brows in mild hesitation.
"...Even if you ask, I am merely here as an entrusted guest officer. I feel it is improper for me to meddle so freely in the strategic direction of the Razgrim army, but..."
"What kind of nonsense is that?!"
Startled by his blunt retort, she looked up instinctively. Vain was staring at her with genuine bewilderment.
"What does being a guest officer or a duke's daughter have to do with anything? When it comes to military matters, you know far more than I do. That's why I'm asking! Besides, our next opponent is your father's army. It'd be far weirder not to ask for your input!"
"...You are asking me how to defeat my own father's army?"
"Well... if you really hate the idea, I won't force you."
Hearing his casual reply, Lydia considered it for a brief moment before shaking her head.
"No... I do not hate it. In truth, holding back at this stage would be far stranger."
Hearing her own words surprised her slightly, but it was how she truly felt.
To Vain, whose daughter she was seemed utterly irrelevant. She understood strategy. She knew the adversary. She was capable, so he sought her counsel. He relied on her simply because he believed Lydia could deliver results.
Two months ago, such practical indifference might have infuriated her. Now, it felt strangely comforting.
"Then, first and foremost... attempting a frontal breakthrough against my father's army would be ill-advised. Even if a section of their line falls into disarray, a nearby officer will immediately restore order... Unlike House Perkin, they are not a force that collapses just because you bring down a single leader."
"Man, the old man's army really is a pain..."
"Indeed... they are trouble incarnate. It feels awkward coming from his own daughter, but underestimating them would be a grave mistake."
"If even you go that far, they must be something else."
Amused by Vain's sour grimace, Lydia let out a soft laugh. Vain then studied her face as if suddenly recalling something.
"Come to think of it, you've changed quite a bit yourself."
"...Me?"
"At first, you looked at me like you'd stepped in something foul every single time. You were prickly whenever I spoke to you, and you acted like even saying my name would poison your tongue. Now it's 'Lord Vain,' and your tone and demeanor have settled down considerably."
"That is... because the rumors surrounding you were simply dreadful, Lord Vain. Please do not speak as though I alone was at fault."
"Still, you can't deny you despised me, right?"
"I will not deny it... but after observing you up close, it became obvious you were nothing like the rumors."
"Oho, have you finally recognized my finer qualities?"
"I did not go nearly that far..."
"Come on! We were right in the middle of a heartwarming moment!"
"...That habit of immediately letting things go to your head has not changed in the slightest, has it?"
When she gave her candid reply, Vain pouted in dissatisfaction. That, too, brought a quiet smile to her lips. Two months ago, being teased like this would have soured her mood instantly. Now, for some reason, she found she did not mind it at all.
In the past, merely facing Vain put her on high alert. Even now, there were times she had no idea what he was thinking, and he still blurted out bizarre remarks without warning. Yet the hostility—the instinctual wariness she usually reserved for enemies—had entirely vanished.
"So, anything else?"
Prompted by Vain, Lydia returned her gaze to the parchment.
"There are no glaring vulnerabilities. However, if they attempt to cover all three bases simultaneously, they will inevitably have to redeploy troops at some point... That shifting movement might offer an opening we can exploit. Still, rather than deciding on my own, I would prefer to confer with Raisa-dono. Her perspective will likely differ from mine."
"Sounds good. I don't understand the finer details anyway, so I'll leave the planning to you two."
"...You are truly entrusting this to me, then."
"How many times are you going to ask? You handled everything brilliantly in the semifinals, didn't you?"
Lydia fell silent for a moment. It was not because of her noble lineage, nor simply because she knew her father's army. Because she had proven her capability in the semifinals, he was placing his trust in her again. It was as simple as that.
"...Understood. In that case, I shall hold nothing back. Even against my father's forces, I will forge a path to victory."
"I'm counting on you. For the sake of my gold coins, you'd better win."
An absurd amount of fervor laced his final words, but Lydia chose to gracefully ignore them.
◇
Around the same time, at the edge of the encampment, Serena was quietly watching the wounded soldiers receiving treatment. While few had suffered severe injuries, several had hurt their legs during the fierce battles leading to the semifinals, making their participation in tomorrow's finals questionable at best. Though they could stand, running was out of the question, and forcing them onto the field would inevitably worsen their condition.
After the semifinals, Vain had delivered a clear order to the troops.
—Seize first place at all costs.
Her master desired victory.
If so, was there not something she could do to help?
"...Losing even a single soldier is a heavy blow."
In a clash of three hundred against three hundred, the loss of one man could tip the scales. Moreover, if she stepped in, her contribution would far exceed a single soldier's... Conservatively speaking, she could easily match the combat effectiveness of ten men, Serena calculated with absolute seriousness.
—The issue was whether she was permitted to participate. Last night, she had thoroughly reviewed the tournament regulations. If a combatant became incapacitated due to injury, they could be substituted before the next match with anyone brought along by the same noble house. Nowhere did it state that the replacement had to hold formal military rank.
Therefore, participating itself was entirely within the rules.
However—one lingering concern held Serena back.
She was Vain's personal bodyguard. Under normal circumstances, abandoning that post of her own accord was strictly forbidden. Leaving her duty to protect her master just to secure a victory for his sake would defeat the entire purpose.
Serena weighed her options carefully. During tomorrow's finals, Vain would be seated in the noble viewing box at the Grand Drill Grounds alongside the royal family. Security would be significantly tighter than usual, with guards posted at every entrance and exit. She had already scoped the perimeter and mapped out the flow of spectators. Naturally, it would never be as secure as having her directly at his side.
"...Only during the finals."
The moment the match concluded, she would return to his side. If she were reprimanded for leaving her post without permission, she would accept the punishment without complaint. She had no intention of shifting that blame onto anyone else.
Even so, standing idly by when she had the power to make a difference was far worse.
Serena looked down at her hands. During her time with the Black Needle Society, these hands existed solely to take lives. People called her "Shadow-Stitcher" far more often than "Serena," and anyone privy to her past kept their distance, treading lightly as if handling a volatile explosive. That had been her reality, and she had accepted it as natural.
Yet Vain had been different. Even after uncovering her bloody past, he had not cast her aside; he had welcomed her into his estate not as a convenient weapon, but as a human being named Serena. Even when assigning her as his bodyguard, he never looked at her as though she were a monster.
She had yet to repay that profound debt of gratitude.
"...If Master wants it, I will claim it."
—The championship. More precisely, the five hundred gold coins her master so dearly coveted.
She did not know what grand ideals drove the soldiers. Serena understood full well that Vain simply wanted the prize money. It made no difference to her... If her master said he wanted it, she would help him seize it. That alone was reason enough.
Glancing toward one of the soldiers who seemed unfit to take the field, Serena quietly slipped away toward the spare equipment racks. Her slender frame might stand out slightly compared to the burly men in the ranks. But once she donned the armor and pulled the helmet low over her brow, no one would be able to see her face.
"...It probably won't be discovered."
Murmuring to herself, Serena reached out and took a helmet, completely unnoticed by anyone around her.
◇
Having concluded her strategy session with Raisa-dono, Lydia stood alone at the edge of the encampment, gazing up at the Blue Silver Wolf banner fluttering in the evening breeze. The soldiers had turned in early to prepare for the trial ahead, and the lively voices that had filled the afternoon air were steadily quieting down.
In the past, looking upon this standard would have stirred nothing within her... but now, it was different. Tomorrow, she would march against her father's army beneath this very banner, driven by a fierce desire to win.
It was not that she harbored resentment toward her father, nor had she grown disillusioned with House Eldran. Her profound respect for the man who had taught her the art of war remained steadfast. It was simply that the time spent in the Razgrim domain had carved out a profound place within her heart.
From Raisa-dono, she had learned doctrines of war never taught in Eldran, while the soldiers had come to view her not as a duke's pampered daughter, but as a commander worthy of trust. And Vain, too, treated her not as a political figurehead, but simply as Lydia.
"...Staying here like this might not be so bad after all."
The moment the words slipped from her lips, she caught herself in mild surprise. Her stay was originally set for six months. Once that agreed period expired, she was supposed to return to Eldran. She had once viewed that departure as an absolute certainty, yet now she yearned to study Raisa-dono's tactical brilliance a little longer, and to lead these soldiers across more battlefields.
And—the moment the thought formed, Vain's face from earlier today flashed through her mind.
"...Why on earth did he have to cross my mind just now?"
Whispering so softly that the wind swallowed her words, Lydia furrowed her brows in mild fluster. She merely wanted to watch from close quarters and see what absurd feat that man would pull off next... That was all there was to it. Surely, that was all...
Tomorrow was the finals... and standing across the field would be her father's army, an opponent she understood better than anyone alive.
Gazing up at the Silver Wolf banner swaying against the sky, Lydia resolved in the quiet of the evening to discover just how far her own strength could carry her.