Pierre ultimately did not accept the pouch of gold coins.

"It's fine. You don't need to feel guilty," he said, standing up to leave.

Teodora remained seated for hours after, staring at the spot where Pierre had been. The adventurers in the guild glanced at her, but her overwhelming aura of menace quickly caused them to turn away.

Teodora walked. She walked, then sat by a wall, only to rise and walk again. The sun rose, and Teodora found a nearby inn, locking herself in her room. She curled up on the bed, unmoving for hours, only to leave once more.

She had no destination in mind, but her feet seemed to instinctively lead her toward the former grounds of the Black Crow Knights.

"Teo..."

Maxim's voice echoed in her mind, piercing her like a stake. Each step toward the hill leading to the old training grounds felt heavier than the last.

"..."

The once imposing building stood eerily quiet, devoid of life. Teodora stared at the empty structure, her gaze hollow, before finally collapsing onto a bench overgrown with weeds in the now-abandoned training yard. The sun, now casting a deep orange hue, illuminated the grounds.

Teodora let her platinum hair fall over her face as she stared blankly at the ground. The radiant sunlight gleamed on her hair, unaffected by her mood. Strands of hair obscured her vision.

The cicadas cried out, and Teodora murmured in a dry, cracked voice as though speaking to an invisible figure.

"It's summer..."

Just like she said, it was summer. The piercing cry of the cicadas heralded its arrival. Yet her mind was far from the season.

The training grounds held many memories. As though flipping through pages of a story, Teodora recalled another time.

Funnily enough, the first memory to surface wasn’t from the summer. It was spring—if one could even call it that. The season had barely transitioned from winter, the air still crisp and cold. There was no hint of budding life in the fields, only frogs sluggishly awakening from their slumber and leaping into streams.

It wasn’t the first time she had met Maxim, nor was it the first time they had exchanged words in the training yard. But if one wound the music box back to the beginning, they would find a sharp-eyed girl named Teodora Benning and a confident boy named Maxim Apart on the day of the academy's entrance ceremony.

The girl, who viewed the world as her enemy, and the boy, whose only possession was his sword, crossed paths by chance. Or perhaps it was fate, like two travelers meeting at a narrow bridge with nowhere else to go.

It was during the placement trials for the cadets.

Teodora had already competed in numerous, seemingly meaningless duels. She wasn't sure if it was her adherence to principle or her straightforward approach, but the academy seemed determined to test her until the very end. They dragged out the trials over several days.

Teodora sighed as she sat among the waiting cadets. The training yard behind the school now held only thirty-two remaining candidates. The trials of stamina and endurance were nearing their conclusion. Teodora wasn’t thinking about who her next opponent would be.

It was a foregone conclusion that she would place first in the trials. No one could change that. The cadets knew it, the instructors knew it, and even Teodora herself was fully aware of it. As a result, the other cadets seemed more focused on her presence than on the trials themselves.

"Teodora Benning..."
"Just our luck, being in the same class as someone from the Benning family..."
"Or maybe it's a good thing. We could build connections with her..."

The cadets murmured, casting glances at her. Some looked at her with fear, others with admiration, and some with greed in their eyes. Teodora calmly ignored them all, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

The familiar, worn feeling of the hilt always calmed her. Since she was a child, even before she turned ten, the sword had been her constant companion—something she had always held in place of dolls or toys.

The duels proceeded simultaneously, and the instructor's stern voice called the candidates to line up.

"Break time is over. Now, the remaining candidates will duel. The matches have been decided: Teodora Benning versus Maxim Apart. Step forward and prepare. The instructors will judge fairly."

Teodora crossed her arms, waiting for her opponent to appear. Whoever it was, they were likely cursing their fate at being paired against her—just as all her previous opponents had. They say that those who seek their purpose walk a lonely path. Teodora had never sought such a path, yet she often felt as though she were stranded, completely isolated.

Her gaze shifted to her opponent as he approached. His name... Maxim, was it?

The instructor glanced back and forth between the two. Teodora's duels usually drew little interest from the instructors since the outcome was always the same.

"Are you both ready? Remember, no aura usage."

However, the look in the instructor's eyes hinted at anticipation for a more interesting match. Teodora didn’t bother analyzing the look. Her focus remained on the man standing before her, who nodded silently in response to the instructor's question without breaking eye contact with her.

His eyes were sharp.

That was Teodora’s first impression of Maxim. The young man before her had a pair of strikingly sharp eyes—golden eyes that seemed to take in every aspect of her stance and breathing. His tousled, auburn hair framed a face that, despite its relaxed expression, betrayed no hint of carelessness.

Different from the others, perhaps?

Even if he was, it wouldn’t change the outcome. Teodora had faced opponents who tried to analyze her like this before. But their assessments had always been in vain. They never got the chance to use what they’d observed before her sword cut them down.

Teodora harbored no expectations. Her gaze was cold and indifferent as she regarded him. His appearance seemed more suited for a scholar behind a desk than a knight.

"Now, step back," the instructor said, extending a hand to put some distance between them.

Teodora drew her sword, lowering her arm. Maxim, too, drew his weapon. Teodora tried to assess his skill, but she couldn't gauge it. Maxim gave off almost no aura, and it didn’t seem as though he was channeling mana. Then...

She frowned. This was the first time she couldn’t get a read on her opponent’s capabilities.

The instructor’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"Begin!"

A sharp gust of wind blew past them. Teodora decided not to attack first.

Maybe he wouldn’t rush in either.

As she adjusted her grip on the sword, Teodora prepared for the expected cautious circling. They would probably begin with probing strikes, gauging each other’s skill, drawing arcs on the training yard.

Then, suddenly, Maxim’s form blurred.

"...!"

Teodora barely had time to raise her blade to block. Steel clashed with steel as the sound of scraping metal filled the air. It wasn’t that Maxim had found an opening—he was attacking straight on, aiming for the most heavily guarded part of her defense.

Teodora scowled at his audacity. The clash of their swords produced a sharp metallic ring. Her voice was cold as she spoke.

"Arrogant."

Maxim’s expression twisted into a frown as he maintained his stance.

"The arrogant one here is you. Allowing a first strike so easily."

Teodora chuckled humorlessly, looking up at him.

"I can afford to be arrogant. But you can’t afford to act like this."

She began to channel mana into her body. A fierce platinum aura rose around her. Yet Maxim didn’t retreat. He met her push, sliding his blade skillfully along hers, absorbing the force without losing ground. He didn’t flinch in the face of her overwhelming mana.

The exchange of strikes continued. Maxim’s advantage in height and reach became apparent as he maintained just enough distance to stay in control. Teodora dodged and parried, his thrusts and slashes growing more unpredictable with each passing moment.

His swordsmanship was precise and fast. His strikes, though not overly aggressive, were sharp enough to challenge her reflexes.

How long had it been since she found an opponent like this?

Teodora tried to break their engagement by adding force to her next blow, but Maxim effortlessly slipped away, creating just enough space. He kicked at her, and she deflected the blow with her sword. The impact sent Maxim stumbling back, but Teodora held her ground, wary of a trap. Charging in recklessly might play into his hands.

She reset her stance, resolving to take this duel more seriously.

"So, you’re finally ready to take this seriously?" Maxim taunted, his voice laced with challenge.

A strange pressure settled on Teodora's shoulders—an unfamiliar feeling from years of fighting that seemed to arise with Maxim's presence. She steadied her breathing.

Teodora began analyzing her opponent more carefully.

Male. Taller than me, but not overly muscular. He’s flexible, with excellent sword technique.

She drew more mana. If it wasn’t going to be settled by skill, it would be by strength. Maxim seemed proficient in swordsmanship but lacked proper control over mana.

"Dammit," Maxim muttered.

At the same time, a faint aura began to rise from him. It wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as Teodora’s, but it was enough to make her wary. Her body blurred, and the ground erupted beneath her as she dashed forward. Dust and debris flew into the air as her sword suddenly appeared before Maxim’s eyes.

"Damn...!"

Maxim’s sword was already there, blocking hers.

"Fast...!"

Teodora didn’t respond. She pressed her advantage, her aura suffocating Maxim under its weight. She had no intention of letting him recover.

"It’s only going to get faster."

Her form blurred once again, disappearing from sight. Maxim gritted his teeth. Teodora’s blade thrust forward, only to meet his defense. She intended to finish it quickly by channeling a large burst of mana, but Maxim endured the blow. His eyes tracked her movements with unsettling precision.

He was strong—unlike anyone she had fought before.

Maxim was adapting. His movements became faster, his ability to predict and counter her strikes more refined. Teodora grew anxious. Even in a prolonged fight, she knew she held the advantage, yet something about this duel unsettled her.

She locked eyes with him. Maxim’s gaze was sharp, studying her, as if searching for an opening in her relentless attacks.

She had to finish it before he found one.

Teodora pulled back her sword, preparing for the final blow. Her strike came down with the force to shatter bones, but Maxim twisted his blade just in time to parry.

Clang!

Metal clashed with metal, ringing out like an explosion. Teodora felt the sting of a shard of steel slicing her cheek.

"I lost."

Teodora’s sword halted just shy of Maxim’s neck, while his own blade had nearly reached hers—except it had been severed mid-shaft. Maxim frowned, withdrawing the broken weapon. The instructor nodded in approval.

"Winner: Teodora Benning. Maxim, you’re free to return to the dormitory."

"Thank you for the match," Maxim said, bowing deeply to the instructor, showing no signs of regret as he waved his broken sword.

"As expected of a prodigy from the Benning family. Your skill is impressive."

Before Teodora could respond, Maxim turned and walked out of the training yard. The blood from the cut on her cheek dripped down in a vivid crimson line.

"Head to the infirmary. You should get that treated. It’s rare for a shard to break through your mana-reinforced skin like that," the instructor advised.

Teodora only nodded, watching as Maxim disappeared into the distance.

Maxim Apart.

Since that day, his name had been etched into Teodora’s memory, destined to remain unforgettable.

"It’s hot now."

It had been cold back then.

Snapped out of her reverie, Teodora stood and lazily dragged her foot across the ground of the training yard. She wanted to retrace her steps, to relive that duel. Teodora moved forward, her body recalling the familiar motions of combat, stepping into place, twisting her body as though her partner were still with her.

But her injured leg wouldn’t cooperate, and there was no Maxim to match her steps this time. Maybe there never would be again.

Teodora stopped.

Where had things gone so wrong? She couldn’t pinpoint it. Her trembling footsteps were proof of her confusion.

For now, all she could do was collapse to her knees on the hard ground of the training yard and cry out, letting her heart’s grief spill out uncontrollably.

Ah...

Tears rolled down her cheeks. The sound of someone crying as if their very heart were being torn apart escaped through Teodora’s clenched teeth.

Ah...

She clawed at the stone ground beneath her, her fingers digging into the dirt, leaving cracks as she pounded her fist into the ground.

The indifferent sun was setting in the west.

As the sky turned crimson, her agonizing cries echoed across the yard.

Benning Estate

Summer nights were noisy, filled with the sound of insects and birds echoing across the Benning estate. The manor, a grand and traditional structure, sat atop a hill overlooking the estate’s center. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, making the night difficult to navigate. A brass lantern slowly ascended the hill toward the Benning manor.

It wasn’t particularly late. It was the time of night when most families would gather around a fireplace, sharing stories and enjoying each other’s company. Near the front gates of the manor, a servant was waiting for the man approaching with the lantern.

"Is the Count home?" the man asked.

"He is, but... did you have an appointment?" the servant replied.

The man, pulling back his hood slightly, revealed a sharp, stern face, with cold eyes and a prominent hooked nose.

"Tell him Roberto Miller is here. He’ll know."

The man spoke coldly, his voice as frigid as his demeanor. He was Roberto Miller, a member of the Black Crow Knights.