### Chapter 8: Twilight Tranquility
Victoria shook her head, plucked a grape, and popped it into her mouth, slowly chewing as she gazed out at the moonlight. After a moment, she spoke up.
“Actually, there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about it… When I was seven, I met my teacher, Sword Saint Ryan. He had just returned from the Eastern Continent, and my father, upon hearing of his arrival, invited the old man to teach me swordsmanship. It was my first time seeing him at the Royal Palace. Back then, he had a scrawny, dark-skinned boy with him whose eyes were all over the place, like he was on a perpetual sightseeing trip—like a little loach…”
“Um…”
A loach?
What a bizarre description…
But—
I scratched my face and couldn’t help but chime in, “That must be, Carlos, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Victoria nodded lightly. “That boy is Carlos. He was the pride and joy of Sword Saint Ryan, his best student, but that’s looking back with today’s eyes. Back then, he was just a clueless little brat who liked to talk nonsense. I really didn’t like him… And to make it worse, the teacher adored him.”
“I had a high talent, and I shared the same Wind Order as the teacher. I picked up many sword techniques quickly, and everyone praised my smarts, but the teacher… He praised Carlos far more than me, just because he worked hard despite being rather average in talent… As a kid, it’s easy to feel a bit off-kilter, so over time, I started resenting Carlos.”
“Ah… oh…”
All I could do was nod along, feeling a bit daft.
You’re still holding a grudge about that little thing? Come on…
Of course, I only dared to think such things in my head and kept my mouth shut.
“Actually, I’ve figured it out since then. The reason I hated Carlos so much is simple… It’s because he could reach my level through hard work, even if he lacked talent… and he did it faster and better than me… Meanwhile, I was all high and mighty about my talent, often just scratching the surface while others praised me, thinking I was amazing, and that led me to become lazy… In the end, I failed to truly grasp the sword, like Carlos did.”
Wow…
So basically—
“Viki, if I fought Carlos, would I lose?”
“Definitely not.”
She answered emphatically.
But I was skeptical, tilting my head and asking, “Really?”
“Yup.”
“But—”
“There’s no ‘but,’ I can fly.”
“……”
Fair point.
No matter how fast your sword is, if you can’t touch me, what’s the point?
Frustrating, isn’t it?!
And guess what? I can fly too…
Thinking this, I suddenly felt overjoyed, almost bouncing off the sofa, I leaned over and grabbed the plate, stuffing a handful of grapes into my hands and plopping back down next to Victoria, feeding her one and shoving the rest into my mouth.
Pop pop pop—
The juicy morsels burst in my mouth, the perfect sweet-and-tart mix brightening my mood even more.
Hmph, old rogue…
Just leave, don’t talk to me again, I never want to see you!
…Oh right.
Suddenly, another thought hit me.
Victoria mentioned she met Carlos when she was seven, so how old was he back then?
I simply had to ask.
“Um… gulllrgh, hee…”
(That’s me swallowing my mouthful.)
“How old was Carlos when you met him?”
That bearded joker always says it’s a “man’s secret” when I ask about his age. Is it because he’s an old man who can’t get married that he’s embarrassed to say?
If I could find out that old man’s real age from Victoria, I could mock him next time…
“Just under four years older than me.”
“…Huh?”
I stared dumbfoundedly at Victoria, thinking I must have misheard.
Four years older than her?
Victoria just turned 23, meaning—
“Carlos is… nearly, not quite 27?”
“Why not just ask him yourself?”
“……”
What the heck is that “man’s secret”?
With that scraggly beard, is he trying to look mature or scare people?
Here I thought he was in his thirties…
“Could you please stop asking about Carlos?”
Victoria seemed slightly annoyed.
Okay, fine, let’s talk about something else…
The night sky looks stunning, let’s not waste it on Carlos!
I turned my gaze out the window.
The night breeze stirred the curtains, bringing the sound of chirping crickets to my ears.
Indeed, the night in Limxia is enchanting.
Surrounded by this charming night, we chatted about Victoria’s favorite flower species, the pesky kids from the village that used to bother me, and moved from the living room to the second-floor terrace, as our conversation blurred into a dreamy haze, until the night deepened, and most of Longdoll Street’s homes dimmed their lights, just before Her Majesty the Queen got up to leave.
The next morning, before the sun even came up, I climbed out of bed, freshened up in clean clothes, and stepped outside, tiptoeing across rooftops until I jumped onto the top of the grand hall opposite the academy. Leaning against a blue brick chimney, I sat cross-legged, a big bag of almond cakes Carlos bought the night before beside me, watching the sun-drenched white walls and sparse students below, munching while I waited.
Until the dawn grew brighter, and the plain-looking war chariot rolled out of the academy gates, crossing the high bridge over the Sabur River. Carlos’s face briefly emerged in my view, then faded away with the chariot’s departure, finally disappearing behind tall buildings.
And it seemed like there were some familiar faces riding with him too.
Soon after, a gentle rain began to fall.
Over five hundred Workshop Hunters from the Valen Empire escorted dozens of carriages full of supplies to the central workshop, arriving the next day under the protection of nearly a thousand garrison troops.
Victoria and I went to the palace to receive them. The bear-like messenger leading the group was someone I didn’t know, but he was incredibly warm towards me. We talked for ages about the Empire’s situation and learned that my father had already met with the Church Knights Order. Lafael was gallivanting across seven cities, persuading more noble lords to join the Winter City to acquire as many resources as possible, and recently, the New City of Kaliye had pledged to act as a vanguard if war broke out.
Mother and Pasifal were still in the city, running between the castle, church, and workshops. More and more trading caravans were willing to move into the Winter City, the flow of currency within the city sped up drastically, and the workshops were nearly overwhelmed, preparing to increase their financial management staff, and officially appoint a finance minister—who turned out to be the bear-messenger.
After counting the military supplies delivered, Victoria held a grand award ceremony at the palace, personally placing the ‘Peace Medal,’ symbolizing Ethanbel’s thousand years of prosperity, around my neck.
At that moment, the workshop hunters and the garrison troops in the square raised their swords to the sky, ringing out in unison—a wave of cheers filled my ears. It seemed everyone had forgotten what happened yesterday and got swept up in the atmosphere, while my feelings were a tangled mess, unable to be moved.
Because the last person who received the ‘Peace Medal’ was Sister Teresa.
Two days later, the bear-like messenger took the hunters away from the Royal City, and that afternoon, the majestic Church Knights Corps arrived at the Royal City. Within an hour of meeting Victoria and Angel, she led over ten thousand re-equipped garrison troops and eight thousand knights from the fourth Church Knights Order out of the city.
I stood far atop the castle wall, watching as Victoria, clad in silver armor, rode her proud war chariot at the front of the army, dragging the dirty Duke Lex behind her on a long iron chain, forcing him to crawl along like a dog.
Like a dragon stretching across the field, they marched onward to Fortress Fleeske, cutting through the twilight-painted wilderness.
As the sun dipped lower, disappearing on the horizon, I closed my eyes, hoping Victoria would return triumphantly soon.
