Frey? What’s she doing here?

She’s always swinging her sword at the training grounds, only dragging herself to lunch when it’s almost over.

Don’t tell me she’s here to spar right now?

Not today, please. I just used up all my energy sparring with Karl. I need to rest, you know. Well, technically, I’ll be heading into practice mode soon to get beaten up by Grandpa again, but at least my real body should get a break.

I mean, look at me—I’m still a growing girl!

Speaking of growth, do you think my height will stop here? It won’t, right?

Both of Lucy’s parents are above average height.

Benedict is so huge that you could doubt if he’s even human, and from what I remember of Lucy’s mother in that vision, she was quite tall for a woman too.

So it would be weird if my height stopped here. I mean, genetics are a thing, right? If my parents are tall, it only makes sense that I should grow too!

I should grow taller someday, right? I won’t have to keep looking up at everyone from down here forever, right?

I was holding on to that hopeful thought, but deep down, I knew reality wouldn’t be that kind.

First of all, there’s the issue with the Mesugaki skill.

The way I talk, the way I act, even the way I write—it doesn’t allow for anything that isn’t Mesugaki. Do you really think it’ll allow me to grow?

Mesugaki characters are usually small and cute but full of attitude, right? I doubt the skill would let me grow tall and lose my bratty charm.

And then there’s another problem. Would that pedo pervert scrub god really let me grow taller?

If there was a community, I bet that pervert would be spamming “lol” and “grow up” jokes all day long.

“Lucy.”

Lost in my despair about the harsh reality of not growing even a centimeter during my time at the Academy, Frey suddenly called out to me.

‘What’s up?’

“What’s going on, you scrub swordsman?”

“Were you going easy on me when we sparred?”

Huh? Where’s this coming from?

Oh. Did she see me sparring with Karl earlier? I guess she must’ve noticed something strange.

It’s true that my mindset is different when I face Karl compared to when I spar with Frey.

I mean, if I hit Frey as hard as I hit Karl, she’d probably get seriously injured.

I don’t want to crush Frey; I want to grow alongside her.

Since Frey had already caught on, shaking my head would feel like lying, so I nodded.

‘Yeah, I was holding back.’

“Of course, I wasn’t going all out on you. Why would I need to use my full strength against a scrub like you? I could beat you easily without even trying.”

Whoa, hold on! Mesugaki skill, what are you doing?!

I didn’t mean to say it like that!

I just wanted to say I wasn’t using my full strength, not crush her pride with my words!

Look at Frey! She usually has this slightly spaced-out expression, but now she’s dead serious!

“Are you calling me a scrub?”

How am I supposed to fix this?!

Sure, I don’t need to worry about raising people’s favorability anymore.

But that doesn’t mean I want to be hated by someone I’ve gotten close to!

If someone I’ve been friendly with suddenly turns their back on me, it’s going to hurt twice as much!

I knew that whatever I said next would only make things worse, so I kept my mouth shut.

But despite my silence, the Mesugaki skill kept working.

It forced the corners of my mouth to curl into a smirk, made me let out a small chuckle, and gave me a look that screamed, I don’t even care enough to answer.

This makes it seem like I can’t even be bothered to respond!

Frey glared at me with furrowed brows before turning her back and walking away.

‘Grandpa, what do I do?’

“What’s the issue? She really is a scrub, isn’t she?”

‘That’s not the point, Grandpa!’

This is serious, okay?!

Sure, I didn’t like Frey much before entering Soul Academy because her performance was terrible!

But now things are different! Frey is the person I’ve spent the most time with since entering Soul Academy!

She’s always been by my side during physical training, so I’ve grown attached to her!

And now there’s a chance she might hate me, and you’re just making jokes!

Grandpa! Aren’t you getting a bit too smug about having a new way to torment me?

Do you even know the meaning of mutually assured destruction?

“Think about it. When you spar with her, the things you say are even harsher than what you just said now, aren’t they?”

Grandpa’s words, spoken with a tone of feigned innocence, made me reflect on all the things I’ve said during our sparring sessions.

He was absolutely right.

“If she was the type to get upset over something like that, she would’ve run away from you ages ago.”

‘…You’re right.’

“So, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Grandpa’s words were convincing, but the uneasy feeling in my gut didn’t go away.

Even though Frey had walked off, my meal of meat and dessert had just been served, but I couldn’t enjoy it.

Earlier that morning, Frey had been walking toward the training grounds as usual when she accidentally caught sight of Lucy sparring with Professor Karl.

It wasn’t strange for the two of them to spar. After all, they were always close.

What kept Frey glued to their match, though, was the sheer level of skill on display.

The swift, precise swordsmanship that never allowed the opponent to close in.

The unyielding shield that patiently waited for an opening, constantly searching for a way to strike back.

Every move they made was so full of strategy and calculation that even blinking for a moment would mean losing track of the flow.

Frey forgot whatever else she had been planning to do and became absorbed in watching the match unfold before her eyes.

The overall control lay with the swordsman, of course.

Karl was the more skilled of the two, and he was clearly taking on the role of a teacher, so it was only natural.

But that didn’t mean the one with the shield was just sitting back and taking the blows.

Even under pressure, Lucy was constantly seeking an opening, moving forward with every step.

As Frey watched Lucy’s movements, she couldn’t help but think:

Was Lucy ever this intense when we sparred?

No.

Lucy had never been this desperate before.

Frey had sparred with Lucy countless times.

They were the only two first-year students capable of handling each other’s strength, so it happened naturally.

Of course, this didn’t mean they were equals.

Lucy was stronger than Frey, and their starkly different win rates proved it.

Still, Frey never saw that gap as something she couldn’t overcome.

Frey believed in her own talent and trusted that she would one day catch up to Lucy.

But that belief was shattered in this moment.

The person Frey thought had been walking just ahead of her was actually miles ahead.

The duel, which seemed like a miracle to Frey, was ultimately decided by Lucy’s bold decision.

Lucy created an opening by risking a serious injury, and her judgment was spot on.

Frey watched as the seemingly impenetrable wall crumbled under Lucy’s mace, and without realizing it, her fists clenched tightly.

It was strange.

Lucy hadn’t mocked her or anything, but something red and simmering settled deep in Frey’s chest.

Was it anger?

No. It was something different.

What was this feeling?

Was she just imagining it?

Yeah, that must be it.

Frey dismissed it as her imagination and headed to training, but the red feeling didn’t go away.

It clung stubbornly to her chest, refusing to leave.

Even now, after Lucy’s blunt words confirmed what she already knew, that feeling didn’t disappear.

So, Lucy didn’t even see me as a real opponent.

Maybe it was because of Lucy’s taunt, but Frey felt the red sensation growing stronger inside her.

Not knowing how to deal with emotions, Frey couldn’t understand why she felt so lost right now.

Wasn’t there someone who could explain this to her?

As she wandered aimlessly around the Academy, Frey suddenly stopped at the sound of voices coming from the infirmary.

“I don’t know what kind of training they put you through at the Alrn estate, but the doctors here don’t call this a bruise. It’s a fracture.”

“What does it matter? It’s just a small crack in the bone. A potion and one day of rest, and I’ll be fine.”

“This is why I can’t stand knights.”

The voices were familiar to Frey.

One belonged to Professor Yangho, and the other was Professor Karl.

...Yeah. If anyone could explain this feeling, it would be Karl.

If anyone knew about the red emotion Lucy stirred up, it’d be him.

With that thought, Frey entered the infirmary without hesitation.

She walked straight up to Karl, who looked at her in surprise, and opened her mouth.

“Professor Karl. I have something to ask.”

“Is it urgent, Lady Kent?”

“Yeah. Very.”

“I understand.”

Glad for an excuse to escape Professor Yangho’s nagging, Karl quickly stood up and followed Frey out of the infirmary.

Professor Yangho shouted something after them, but Karl didn’t pay attention.

After all, he had already pocketed the potion he came for.

“Thank you, Lady Kent. So, what’s on your mind? Is it a question about swordsmanship?”

“No. It’s something else.”

As they walked through the Academy garden, Frey explained her dilemma.

She realized that Lucy had been holding back during their sparring.

And now, knowing that, there was this red feeling stuck in her chest.

How could she get rid of it?

Her explanation, given in her usual blunt manner, was over in no time.

Karl listened carefully before letting out a small chuckle and answering Frey’s question.

“You feel hurt, don’t you? Because Lady Lucy has pulled so far ahead.”

“Hurt?”

Frey, unfamiliar with such feelings, tilted her head in confusion, prompting Karl to roll his eyes.

How should he explain this?

Actually, does he even need to explain it?

The important thing is getting rid of that feeling, right?

The reason Lady Kent feels hurt is that she realizes how far ahead Lady Lucy is.

So, if Lady Kent could move forward and catch up...

Not a bad idea. It’d be good for Lady Lucy’s growth, too, if she had a peer to push her.

“Lady Kent, I have a suggestion for how you might get rid of that red feeling.”

“What is it?”

“Would you like me to teach you how to use a sword?”

Frey tilted her head in confusion at Karl’s offer.