The day after I had stirred Ethan’s desires with a bit of encouragement.

Even though three hours had passed since his sparring session with Harold, Ethan was still in the training hall, tirelessly swinging his sword. Watching him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer determination men are capable of.

‘In many ways, it’s truly impressive.’

Though today’s duel had ended in Ethan’s complete defeat once again, there was something different about him today—his determination was on another level.

No matter how many times Harold knocked his sword away, Ethan would quickly retrieve it, adjust his stance, and keep swinging. Even in situations where he’d usually lose his grip, he gritted his teeth and held on, forcing himself to continue. His movements were filled with a kind of feverish desire, as if madness itself was driving him.

Perhaps inspired by Ethan’s fiery resolve, Harold extended their duel by an additional two hours compared to usual.

Harold, being a seasoned swordsman himself, likely knew that the more passionate the day, the more effective high-intensity training would be.

…Though I did feel a bit guilty, knowing Harold was unaware that this passion was rooted in sexual desire.

• Swish! Swish! Swish!

“Hah... Hah... Hah...”

Even after the duel, Ethan’s sword didn’t stop. After sparring for nearly twice as long as usual, he was now increasing the time he spent on his personal training.

Dinner had already come and gone, but that didn’t matter. I had told the chef to save Ethan’s meal and that I’d prepare it for him myself later.

From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like Ethan was just repeating the same actions over and over. At first, I thought he was trying to correct mistakes he made during the duel, but after watching him for a bit, I realized what he was doing.

Ethan was reducing the “time” it took for him to swing his sword during continuous movements. More specifically, he was practicing switching stances faster and making his movements shorter.

‘The first time he did that move, it took around ten seconds.’

Now, it looked like he’d shortened the time for those continuous movements to about nine seconds.

I wasn’t following the speed of each individual movement, just noting the starting and ending stances. It was nearly impossible to track each swing when Ethan was moving his sword six times in the span of one second.

You might ask what difference it makes to shorten a 0.20-second movement to 0.18 seconds, but if you can cut down time in repeated actions like these, the overall speed of your entire technique increases.

Shaving just 0.1 seconds off a continuous series of actions could be the decisive factor in a duel.

…Or so it was written in the lore of Luminor Academy. I’m not sure how much that applies to real swordsmanship. How would I know, anyway?

“Haaah! Haaahhh!!”

Watching Ethan work so hard at swinging his sword, I couldn’t help but wonder.

If I were in Ethan’s situation—if Lilith had offered herself to me if I won a duel against my father—could I be this motivated?

…I’m not sure. I’d try my best, but I doubt I could push myself as hard as Ethan.

Sure, I might have been reborn in this world because I didn’t get to see the "Lilith virgin ending" in my past life, but if I’d been reincarnated as Ethan instead of Lilith, I doubt I’d be able to work as hard as he did.

Now that I think about it, there’s really no reason for Ethan to be so obsessed with me.

Did he lose weight and learn proper noble etiquette because I scolded him when we were young? Sure, it might’ve taken some time, but anyone else could have taught him those things, not just me.

Does he feel indebted to me because I trusted him and found his mother’s keepsake for him? I don’t know how valuable Tanacia’s keepsake is to him, but Ethan’s already saved my life nearly three times now. If anything, I owe him more than he owes me.

Is it because I’m pretty with a nice chest? That’s the most ridiculous reason of all. There are countless women in this world who are prettier and have bigger chests than me, so there’s no reason for him to go out of his way for a troublesome woman like me.

I wasn’t even a noble before Seraphin pulled some strings—I was a commoner. If you lower your standards to the commoner level, there are bound to be a few women with a figure like mine in the Blackwood estate. Even Lara from the Witch’s Forest had a similar build to me, except for her height. …Sure, maybe I’m more Ethan’s type when it comes to facial features, but that’s subjective.

In any case, seeing Ethan put in so much effort just to be with me, even though he didn’t have to... Honestly, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore whether Ethan wins or loses against Harold.

The fact that he’s taking our relationship seriously and putting in the effort already moved me enough.

‘I’ve never really thought about marriage in this world…’

But if the person was Ethan, I think I’d be okay with it. I quickly shook my head, dismissing the thought. I knew it was impossible.

Our relationship could never be anything more. Ethan was the sole heir of the Blackwood ducal family, and his marriage couldn’t be wasted on a maid of commoner origins like me.

Even if I swallowed my pride and accepted the position of a concubine, the pressure from the legitimate wife and her family would make it impossible for me to live the kind of life I wanted. It would be better for both me and Ethan if we ended things as a brief fling.

‘So, for now...’

For now, I could indulge in my desires a little longer.

At most, I have two and a half years. Until I graduate from the academy, I could live in this pleasant dream for a little while longer.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

And so, the next day.

Once again, Ethan and Harold were facing off in the training hall, engaging in a fierce duel that lasted several hours.

The intense exchange of sword strikes was something that even an ordinary person like me could barely keep up with just by watching. Ethan and Harold traded blows at a pace that made it hard for the eye to follow, with their swords cutting through the air multiple times per second.

It was a duel that, just by witnessing it, made your heart race and left you breathless. Even Dietmaier, the head butler, and the mansion’s priest, who were watching with me, held their breaths, entirely focused on the duel.

Though the battle followed their usual patterns, the speed of their swords had changed. The angles of their strikes were different, and the dynamics of the fight shifted.

Everyone present could sense it in their hearts, even if they didn’t say it aloud. Perhaps, today, Ethan might finally win a true victory against Harold as a fellow swordsman.

The two had already fought each other over a dozen times today. Both Ethan and Harold were utterly exhausted by now.

And between the two of them, Harold was likely the more fatigued. In a fight where both sides were evenly matched, the person who used more stamina was usually the one in the lead.

Harold had been winning all their duels by a narrow margin. Even as a Sword Master, there was a limit to how much energy he could expend in a serious duel.

‘…Just one round.’

Even after dozens or hundreds of defeats, all it would take was one round.

One round—not necessarily a victory as a swordsman, but just one successful strike—was all Ethan needed to fulfill the condition. And right now, that was more than enough.

As the minutes ticked by, the pattern of their sword strikes began to change, subtly but noticeably.

And finally, at the last moment of the duel, it was Ethan’s sword, not Harold’s, that reached his opponent’s neck first.

“Hah... Hah... Hah...”

“Huuuuh... Huuuuuh...”

“…Father.”

“Yes, Ethan?”

“…Did I just win a round against you?”

“...”

“...”

“…Yes. I can’t deny it. You won.”

• Thud.

As soon as Harold admitted it, Ethan dropped his sword to the ground and collapsed, lying face down on the floor.

Harold, too, was so exhausted that he stood still, unable to move, quietly catching his breath.

“To think I’d lose a round to an Expert, even if he is my son. It might be time for me to retire the title of Sword Master.”

Despite his words, a faint smile tugged at Harold’s lips, as if the loss didn’t bother him much.

Even though it had been a battle of endurance, Ethan had managed to defeat Harold in that brief moment. Naturally, he was proud.

Once you broke through a barrier for the first time, it was always easier the second time. This experience would only help Ethan grow further.

No parent could dislike seeing their child achieve something with genuine effort. At least, not a parent who knew what it meant to truly care for their child.

“If you give up the title of Sword Master, I doubt there’ll be anyone in the empire left to claim it.”

“Still, a loss is a loss. Help me up, Dietmaier. I’m so exhausted I don’t think I can walk on my own.”

“Yes, Master.”

Watching Harold lean on Dietmaier for support as he left the training hall gave me a strange feeling.

Seeing Harold, who always appeared in the game with his inhuman stamina and combat power, on the verge of collapse like this was surreal.

Of course, the person who had defeated this monster, Ethan, was lying flat on the ground, unable to even lift a finger.

“Well done, Young Master Ethan.”

“…Thanks, Lilith.”

“You were truly amazing. I wouldn’t regret giving you everything I have, not after seeing that.”

“Hah... haha…”

“Shall I help you up? Or should I carry you in a princess hold since it looks like you can’t move a muscle?”

“…If I rest for a bit, I’ll be able to stand on my own. You don’t have to go that far.”

Ethan chuckled softly, shaking his head and looking up at the sky.

    The look on his face was so cool and refreshing that it made my heart pound just looking at it.