Chapter 49: Fragments
Ding—, ding—, clang—
The clanging sounds of weapons clashing echoed throughout the entire Shanter Castle.
In the vast training ground, a towering figure swung a heavy ice sword, launching a furious onslaught. With the gigantic sword flailing around like it was auditioning for a role in a dance competition, waves of ice mist hissed and surrounded him, frosting everything in their path, while dust and ice shards exploded outward with a thunderous crash.
Under such a terrifying barrage, a petite girl, like a fluttering butterfly, darted and weaved through the roaring wind of the heavy sword, her moves so nimble they could give any ballet dancer a run for their money. Whenever she spotted a gap in her opponent’s defense, she delivered an even fiercer counterattack.
The two figures danced around each other in the arena, the tempo of the battle so fast it could make your heart skip a beat. When things reached a fever pitch, shards of ice were already flying dozens of meters away.
“Little Pepé, watch out behind you!”
“Nice move!”
“Go for it, win this!”
“Woohoo!”
Led by Hoover, the hunters cheered from a distance, waving their arms like they were at a rock concert.
I slowed down and glanced back at them, feeling a teeny bit embarrassed.
“Focus!”
Seizing the moment, the Duke raised his ice-blue giant sword and brought it down with a whoosh.
A massive shadow loomed overhead, with an oppressive aura that could steal your breath away.
My pupils constricted, and I quickly changed my footing.
Moon Step!
Whoosh—
The wind howled past my ears, making my skirt flap like it wanted to take off.
Without the boost from ice pillars, I moved at lightning speed, suddenly darting a good ten meters away.
I landed gently.
The next moment, the dust beneath me billowed outward.
Boom!
The Duke’s heavy sword slammed down, creating a sound like a mini explosion. Dust erupted, and tiny cracks spider-webbed across the ground.
I took a sharp breath and engaged my toes to push, immediately launching myself back into the fray.
A white mist swirled in my left hand.
Hiss—
In the blink of an eye, a deep blue short blade, about the length of my forearm, materialized, frosty mist bursting from it and engulfing my half-body.
I confronted the giant blade emerging from the dust.
Clang!
After the loud crash, I staggered back a step, briefly losing my balance before swiftly readjusting.
I stepped forward again, swinging the ice blade horizontally.
Clang! Clang! Clang—
“Hahaha! Amazing, impressive!”
A booming laugh erupted, and the Duke’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Side! Abdomen! Head!… Watch your feet!”
A tidal wave of attacks came crashing down, each strike bringing unmatched pressure. For someone who’s right-handed like me, suddenly switching to using my left hand felt like trying to write with my foot—impractical and utterly awkward.
But this was necessary training.
Gritting my teeth to block, I searched for a chance to counterattack. Ice collided with ice, the ground beneath me frozen solid with frost everywhere.
Crack.
A crisp sound made my heart race, and I hastily retreated two steps.
The blade in my hand shattered.
…Still not strong enough? Why do I always fall short against the Duke’s heavy sword…
“Alright, alright, that’s enough for today. If we keep going, we’ll both be out of control.”
The Duke pointed to his heavy sword, which sported a visible crack.
…Well, at least that’s something.
We’ll call it a day then.
“Mhm.”
I nodded obediently.
My body was already starting to tremble from excitement. If we continued, I wasn’t sure I could control my strength.
“So, how’s everything feeling? Any discomfort or inconveniences?”
Hearing the Duke’s question, I looked down at my hands.
I was wearing a pair of pure black lace gloves, exquisitely designed, adorned with sunflowers shaped like round shields—symbols of central workshop craftsmanship at its finest.
The gloves featured multiple layers of frills that added to their aesthetic appeal, reaching all the way up to my forearm’s bend, with beautiful blue gemstones embedded on the back of my hand. The palms had been specially treated to ensure weapons wouldn’t easily slip from my grip.
At first glance, they appeared as thin as silk, but in reality, they were highly advanced light chain mail, feeling soft and quite comfortable. According to the Duke, the material was mixed with a slight essence of melted Moon Crystal, making it almost impossible for ordinary weapons to breach.
Additionally, I wore matching leg armor that extended from my toes to my knees. To the untrained eye, they looked more like stylish black lace stockings than armor.
Paired with a black knee-length skirt made from the same high-defense material as the hunters’ coats, I looked like a gothic maiden.
Let’s just say, it screamed the elegance of Winter City… or possibly the grace of the Winter Moon?
In any case, this was a tailor-made outfit for me… but saying that seemed a bit off; let’s just call it battle gear. The remaining Moon Crystal from the Thirteenth Month was just enough to make the gloves and leg armor, while an abundance of skirt designs were ordered, so I wouldn’t have to worry about ruining my clothes during training.
Actually, there’s a heart guard hiding away in a secret spot, which is also why the Duke could let loose on me without worry.
“I love it! Thank you.”
Who wouldn’t appreciate such a beautiful yet practical outfit?
Hearing my praise, the Duke’s smile broadened.
“I’m glad you like it. No need for thanks… The weapon will be finished soon—just two more days. I’ve taught you all I can about controlling ‘Extreme Ice,’ so from here on out, it’s all on you to practice.”
Brushing off the dust from my clothes, I nodded again.
Extreme Ice, the deep blue ice—I was almost a master at it. Despite the Duke’s constant praise for my innate talent, I knew deep down it was his tireless guidance that had helped me grow so quickly.
During this time, both the Duke and the Lady, even Pasifal, had shown me care and love that came from the purest intent.
These were truly good people in my life, just like Grandma Claire.
I must repay them; it didn’t matter whether I was Peilo or not.
“Once the weapon is finished, you’ll be leaving, right?”
I looked at the Duke and nodded gently.
“Mhm.”
“…Time flies, doesn’t it?”
The Duke glanced around the open area with a nostalgic smile.
“Do you… remember this place?”
I hesitated for a moment and slowly shook my head.
After that, the Duke’s expression dimmed a bit.
“This used to be a forest, about ten years ago. You were still small then, and Shanter Castle wasn’t as big as it is now.”
As soon as he said that, I sensed something had changed in the air.
The Duke no longer referred to me as Miss Silvya.
He had always regarded me as his daughter, which I understood well. After all this time, even I had come to accept it, as there was no chance of overturning that truth—it was right there in front of me.
But to state it so plainly now? That was a first.
Dust wafted away with the wind as I tucked my shoulders slightly.
The Duke continued talking.
“Back then, your two brothers loved to explore, always sneaking into the woods, bringing back all kinds of oddities… At that time, you were probably just knee-high, always bobbing around behind them. Every time you took a step, your little pigtails would bounce. I still remember it clearly.”
“Sometimes, they’d compete to see who could climb higher in the trees, leaving you behind because you were too little. But you wouldn’t listen; you insisted on joining them. The result? You climbed only a few rungs before you panicked and fell, scraping your knee and crying on the ground, refusing to get up until someone carried you on my back for a walk in the woods, and only then would you stop crying.”
“…You loved hearing me tell you stories of knights and heroes, you idolized them. For a time, you shouted every day at home about wanting to become a female knight. And then one day, your Grandmaster Sword Saint came to the castle, and you were so embarrassed you hid behind your mother, not daring to speak to him… And look at you now, you’re actually a knight!”
“…Even younger, I loved ruffling your hair; it was so soft, and your eyes were so wide, looking around like a doll. Seeing you that way made my heart ache because I wanted to hold you tight, but I was afraid I’d crush you, so I held back… My heart… couldn’t help but love you fiercely.”
His words painted fragments of memory, and even though they were chaotic, I listened intently.
At that moment, he was no longer the mighty Pope Knight or the dignified Duke of Shanter.
He was simply a father.
“I remember your first steps, your first time calling me ‘Dad’… your first ride in the war chariot, your first time sleeping alone, your first taste of cake, your first sight of the ocean, your first argument with me… I remember your cries, your smiles… I remember every version of you.”
“…There are countless memories I hold dear, yet you’ve forgotten them all…”
He smiled without a hint of sadness, only leaving me with a sense of loss.
