This spring, the Clausel Barony was struck by an unprecedented crisis.
The turmoil was orchestrated by Viscount Given, who administered the neighboring territory by the Emperor’s decree. He had targeted Baron Clausel as a pawn in a larger factional conflict.
The Ashton family's village, situated on the remote border, bore the brunt of the damage. At the time of the attack, Saint Licia—the only daughter of Baron Lezard Clausel—was staying there. She was subsequently kidnapped as part of the Viscount's plot.
Suffering from a recurring illness and the ordeal of her capture, she had come to the very brink of death. Yet, she had made a miraculous return.
Everything was thanks to the desperate struggle of a boy named Ren Ashton.
Utilizing his quick wits and his innate power, he had protected Licia all on his own. However, the cost of his victory was high; Ren had sustained a severe injury.
To show his gratitude for his daughter’s life, Lezard promised Ren that he could stay at the manor to recuperate. Thanks to that care, after a little over two months, Ren finally reached the point where he felt his recovery was complete.
"Alright, looks like I'm finally back in shape."
Ren muttered to himself from his bed. His dark hair, tinged with a hint of brown, swayed in the breeze drifting through the window. A faint smile touched his androgynous, handsome face.
Looking satisfied, he stood and approached the window of the guest room. Gazing out, he spotted Licia diligently performing her morning training.
(I have to keep my promise.)
He had a vow to fulfill. Unless he sparred with her a few times as he had promised, Ren felt he couldn't rightfully return to his village.
Though June had already arrived and his birthday had slipped by unnoticed during his recovery, he had no intention of being a liar.
(I really owe it all to those potions and magic tools.)
Thanks to high-quality treatment, his muscle atrophy had been kept to a minimum, and it hadn't taken long for him to walk unaided. Since then, Ren had not only roamed the manor for rehabilitation but had also explored the gardens under Licia's guidance.
"Time to get moving."
Once he finished dressing, Ren left the guest room and walked down the hallway he had grown familiar with. Unlike the manor back in his village, the floors here felt soft beneath his feet. Thick carpets were laid out everywhere, a luxury that had been gentle on his healing leg.
"Hm? Young man?"
A voice called out from behind him. It was Weiss, the Knight Commander of the Clausel family. Though he led a busy life overseeing the barony’s defenses, he had made time every day to assist Ren with his rehabilitation.
"Master Weiss. Good morning."
"Ah, morning. Tell me, is your body up for movement already?"
"It seems so. I was told a few days ago that I was nearly healed, and my body feels as light as it used to."
"...Ah, that is better news than any."
Weiss nodded, looking relieved from the bottom of his heart. He still carried a heavy burden of regret over the day the village was attacked; even after Ren and Licia’s safe return, he had requested a severe punishment for his failure.
However, on that day, Weiss had only left Licia's side because her life was at stake. Licia herself had made this clear, explicitly stating that punishing him was out of the question.
"Have you already had breakfast?"
"Yes, I had it in my room as usual. I was just thinking of heading outside to get some exercise."
"Exercise, you say?"
"If I stay idle for too long, I'm afraid I'll make a pathetic showing when it counts."
Weiss looked puzzled for a moment, but he quickly understood when he saw Ren glancing toward the window.
"I see. A spar with the young lady. Just remember, do not overdo it. The Lord gave strict orders on that front."
"I'll be fine. I won't push myself."
"If you say so..."
"Besides, I don't want to keep Licia-sama waiting any longer."
In truth, he had been watching her train every day. From the guest room window, he had a clear view of the plaza where she performed her morning routine. Every time they caught each other's eye, they would wave.
"—We made a promise. That if we made it back together, we would definitely spar again."
As Ren spoke, Licia noticed him from the plaza. As her training reached a stopping point, she waved enthusiastically.
When Ren reached the plaza, Licia approached him with light, rhythmic steps. The skirt of the white outfit she wore for training fluttered in the breeze.
Surprisingly, that outfit was the only thing that had survived the fire at the Ashton manor. When Roy and Mireille had visited Clausel recently, the garment had been returned to Licia. It was a memento of her late mother, and she had been overjoyed to have it back. However...
Licia suddenly skidded to a halt several paces away from Ren.
As Ren wondered what was wrong, she scurried over to a nearby bench, grabbed a towel, and began frantically wiping away her sweat. Her bashful behavior brought faint smiles to the faces of the knights who had been assisting her.
"Hmph... This is a side of the young lady we haven't seen before," Weiss remarked with a grandfatherly grin.
(She doesn't really need to worry about that sort of thing with me,) Ren thought with a wry smile as he took a deep breath. The garden was lush and vibrant; the mere act of breathing the fresh air was invigorating. It was a beautiful place to train.
"Ren!"
Having finished her quick grooming, Licia jogged over. Her hair—a stunning mix of silver and amethyst—had regained its silken luster, a far cry from their days on the run. Her refined features seemed to have matured slightly since the incident. Bathed in the morning sun, she offered him a charming smile.
"Are you really okay? You aren't pushing yourself, are you?"
"I'm fine. I've been walking without help for a while now, and I've recovered enough to run."
"I-I know that, but still!" Licia pouted. "I was just worried. So, why did you come out here? Just for a walk?"
"No, I thought I'd start moving my body a bit."
"Moving your body? Doing what?"
"Well... since I'm supposed to be sparring with you, I figured I should probably hold a sword for the first time in a while."
Ren walked past the stunned Licia toward a corner of the plaza. There, a rack held several training swords. He searched through them until he found one of a length that suited his frame.
"A-Are you really going to spar with me?! You're not joking?!"
"I promised, didn't I? But I need to get my feel for the blade back first. Otherwise, I'll probably lose in an instant."
"Really? I think you're already more than ready."
"Um, you're not trying to rush me, are you?"
"Of course not! I was just commenting on the gap in our abilities."
The nearby knights looked on in bewilderment.
To think the young lady would admit a gap in skill without a hint of frustration... I see. Master Ren really is that strong, then. Even Master Weiss has acknowledged his talent. This should be interesting.
The knights were as eager as Licia to see Ren in action. They wanted to see for themselves just how skilled the rumored boy truly was.
Ren gripped the training sword. It felt slightly off—the balance and texture were different from his Wooden Magic Sword or Iron Magic Sword.
(Can't be helped, I suppose.)
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the bracelet for his Magic Sword Summoning on his arm.
"How do you have the same bracelet as before?" Licia asked.
"My parents got me a replica that looks like it. It's just a fake, though."
"Hmm... I see."
It was a blatant lie, but it was the only way he could wear the catalyst in the open. As for the dagger Licia had promised him, it seemed there had been nothing suitable in the manor’s storehouse, so she was determined to order a custom piece for him soon.
(Alright, let's start slow.)
Ren moved a short distance away from Licia and began with some light swings. The grip was unfamiliar, but the weight of the swing felt consistent with his memory.
(Good. I really have recovered.)
He began to move as if an opponent were standing before him. Visualizing an imaginary Thief Wolfen, he executed complex footwork while unleashing a series of strikes. The sound of the wooden blade slicing through the air echoed across the plaza. The lush grass swayed under the sheer pressure of his swings.
"Hoh..." Weiss let out a low whistle of appreciation.
The other knights were speechless. Seeing Ren's form, they realized he was far more formidable than the rumors suggested. Licia, meanwhile, watched him with her hands clasped behind her back, looking thoroughly impressed.
(I haven't dulled as much as I feared.)
Encouraged, Ren increased his speed. The sharpness of his strikes intensified, radiating a palpable pressure that the onlookers felt against their skin.
"Ren."
As he finished his sequence, Licia stepped toward him.
"How does it feel?"
"Better than expected. It's not much different from how I felt before the injury. I'm not quite at a hundred percent, but I can move well enough."
"I'm glad. I hope my Holy Magic was at least a little bit helpful."
Ren nodded. While he was bedridden, Licia had visited him constantly, devotedly using her magic to aid his healing. Combined with the high-grade potions, her help had significantly accelerated his recovery.
(Not to mention the Physical Ability Boost from my levels,) Ren thought. Since his body was responding so well, he decided to take the next step. "Well then... if you're up for a light match, shall we try one?"
"...Eh?"
"Just at a rehabilitation level, mind you. I'm not ready for a full-scale duel yet."
While Licia stood there in shock, Weiss spoke up.
"Young man! Is it not too early for that?"
"I'll be fine, sir. We'll keep it light."
Determined not to overexert himself, Ren faced Licia. She gave a wry smile, clearly caught between excitement and concern.
"Are you absolutely sure?"
Ren nodded.
"Fine. But let's call it a rehabilitation session today, not a formal spar. Just a bit of exercise. Deal?"
Feeling slightly scolded, Ren scratched his cheek awkwardly.
However, the atmosphere shifted immediately after. As they both took their stances with their training swords, Weiss moved to give the signal to begin.
"Go easy on me, please," Ren said.
As Licia looked at him, she was struck by the aura he projected. It was the same intensity he had shown during their flight—no, it was even greater. She realized that through that harrowing experience, he had grown even stronger.
A surge of nervous excitement washed over her as she felt the pressure radiating from him.
"...I think 'go easy on me' should be my line," she whispered.
Even after months of recovery, the strength of the boy who had saved her remained as formidable as ever.