"Kunta, I’ve got a question!"

"What is it?"

"Why are the Sultan and the Mage here to meet the mage chick? Is there a specific reason for it?"

"Hmm, if I had to guess, I’d say the Magic Tower wants to confirm whether the young lady’s talent lives up to the rumors."

"And why would they need to confirm that?"

"They probably want to bring her to the Magic Tower."

"Why?"

"The Magic Tower always desires to have talented mages under their control. It’s a sort of… trophy for them, I suppose."

"...That’s a pretty shady reason. I think I understand why the Instructor hates mages."

"Well, the Instructor doesn’t just hate them; he treats them like pests that need exterminating."

"Yeah, that’s true."

Arnold and Garland often found themselves explaining things to Kunta.

Since they frequently sparred and trained together, this dynamic had naturally developed over time.

"Then what about the ‘Master of the Desert’? Why is he here?"

"The Master of the Desert? Oh, you mean the Sultan?"

"The Sultan probably covets the young lady’s abilities as well. Magic that manipulates water is highly prized in the western regions. Given that Lady Irene’s magic can even unearth hidden underground water veins and create rivers to flow, it would be an invaluable asset to the Sultan and, by extension, the western continent."

In the arid lands of the west, Irene’s magic, which could summon rain and discover underground water sources, was nothing short of a divine miracle.

If he could bring her under his control, it would bolster the Sultan’s authority and power base immensely.

"Hmm, so he wants a trophy too!"

"Exactly."

"Still, it won’t be easy. That young lady has none other than the Duke of the Demon Sword backing her. My old man says that if the Duke were to get serious, he could burn the entire western continent to ashes. I doubt they’d have the guts to cross someone that terrifying."

"...Mage chick’s dad is scary."

"Not just scary—he’s utterly terrifying."

From this perspective, the Sultan’s and the Magic Tower’s actions seemed reckless, akin to moths flying straight into a flame.

"Hmm, my head hurts."

The Barbarian rubbed his temples as the flood of information overwhelmed him.

Perhaps it was the side effect of trying to process so much at once.

"I didn’t say much, though. Is it a weakness of Barbarians?"

"No, it’s not that. That guy only uses his brain for physical stuff. The Barbarians in our mercenary corps are smart enough to handle accounting."

"...So Barbarians vary from person to person. But a Barbarian accountant? I’d love to meet one."

"Heh, I’ll introduce you if there’s a chance later."

With that, the conversation wrapped up, and they prepared to dive back into training.

Ever since the "Barrier of Sacrifice" had been implemented, the swordsmanship department was swept up in a training craze, and even top-tier students like them couldn’t afford to slack off.

However—

"...By the way."

"Another question, Kunta?"

"Yeah, I’m curious. What’s the Instructor doing right now?"

"……."

"Is he practicing a new joint lock or striking technique? It looks a little unusual."

"…Hmm."

At Kunta’s remark, they turned their gazes toward the Instructor, and they all saw the same thing.

CRACK!

THUD!

...Over ten heavy sand mannequins lay utterly destroyed.

"Hmph, this is harder than I thought."

The Instructor’s rare look of frustration only left the cadets speechless.

"He’s practicing… dance steps?"

"I’d better offer my condolences to his future dance partner."

Dance.

Known commonly as ballroom dancing, the Instructor seemed to be struggling with the concept. His difficulty, however, didn’t stem from a lack of rhythm or grace.

WHOOSH!

…Instead, he kept instinctively applying combat techniques to his dance partner.

And these weren’t ordinary techniques—they were deadly ones, practically assassination moves.

"That’s pure instinct… terrifying."

"Terrifying isn’t even the word for it. It’s horrifying."

A murder dance.

The Instructor’s deadly choreography was enough to send chills down their spines.

CRACK!

The mannequin’s "spine" shattered completely.

 

"Ugh, there’s so much more to prepare than I thought."

Ihan muttered to himself.

While the opportunity to meet the Magic Tower’s spellcasters had come unexpectedly, he needed to attend the banquet to initiate contact.

Sneaking in was an option, but Ihan decided to approach things by the book this time.

Not because he respected the Magic Tower—

Please, Instructor…

—but because of the pleading look in Levi’s eyes as she clasped her hands together.

"Where did she even learn such a deadly skill?"

She had perfected it.

Her hand gestures, her gaze, and even her posture all worked together to amplify a pitiful, sorrowful aura that struck straight at his conscience.

Unable to brush her off, Ihan begrudgingly abandoned his reckless tendencies.

And so, he was now trying to learn proper etiquette and culture for attending a banquet.

However, from the very start—

"Banquet food isn’t meant to be eaten. It’s there for display and enjoyment, not consumption."

"…What kind of wasteful nonsense is that?"

—he faced hurdles.

Ihan was visibly outraged. Wasting food was one of the top five things he despised most in life.

Levi, sweating nervously, quickly added an explanation.

"Th-They don’t throw it away! The staff eats it later, or it’s redistributed."

"It had better be."

"Oh, and if you need a drink, don’t raise your hand or call out. That’s considered rude. You have to wait for the servers to approach you."

"……."

"And when you hold your cup, your hand movements should look like this."

"…I’m going to pass out."

The more he listened, the more his head spun.

‘If I’d known it would be like this, I should’ve taken lessons from Jake when he offered.’

As a knight, Ihan was technically required to learn the basics of noble culture.

But Ihan had always preferred lifting dumbbells to learning etiquette. As a result, he was utterly clueless about these matters, including how to dance.

And now, he was paying the price.

"I didn’t know learning to dance would be this hard."

"With all due respect, Instructor, the problem isn’t dancing—it’s your lack of control."

"I can control my strength. The problem is, when someone’s in front of me, I instinctively try to take them down."

"As a knight, that’s admirable, but it’s a disaster for your dance partner."

Levi understood his habits but couldn’t help shaking her head at how impractical they were in daily life.

"But."

"It doesn’t happen with everyone. Only strangers. Look."

Ihan casually reached out to Levi.

"See? I’m not threatening you, am I?"

"……."

"Levi?"

"H-Haaah…"

"??"

Levi nearly collapsed as her legs gave out.

The fact that he approached her without hesitation left her overwhelmed.

‘This man…’

Though she was painfully aware of how ridiculous she must’ve looked, Levi couldn’t stop her face from reddening.

Excited was excited. Happy was happy.

‘He said he feels comfortable around me….’

The fact that his habitual threatening behavior didn’t manifest around familiar people meant one thing: Ihan trusted Levi.

This realization brought her an unparalleled sense of joy.

The man she admired had shown her goodwill, and discovering this filled her with nothing but happiness.

Levi basked in that happiness, but was her good fortune for the day not yet over?

“Oh, right. This is part of etiquette too, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

With a smooth motion, Ihan pulled a dark navy ribbon from his pocket.

The color suited her perfectly, and in Pendragon, the act of a man presenting a ribbon to a woman carried a specific meaning.

“Would you accompany me to the party?”

“……”

“This… is how you do it, right?”

“……”

Levi froze on the spot, completely unresponsive. Ihan quickly assessed her condition.

“…So it’s possible for someone to faint with their eyes open. Huh.”

He learned something new.

Levi, meanwhile, had discovered that too much happiness could render someone unconscious.

 

“Why is Miss Levi lying like that?”

“I have no idea.”

Ihan shrugged as he laid Levi down in a shaded hammock.

He genuinely seemed clueless.

“Good thing I brought a blanket.”

“…How do you always happen to have just the right thing on hand?”

“Hehe.”

Leyra Winter, the braided-haired maid, gently draped the blanket over Levi, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

“She’s smiling in her sleep. She must be having a lovely dream.”

“…Not only do you read people’s thoughts, but now you can read their dreams too, Miss Maid?”

“??”

“…You act so naïve most of the time, and then you come out with something so sharp.”

Leyra, who occasionally displayed a surprisingly keen insight, had an inexplicable way of making Ihan soften his demeanor.

Perhaps it was because she was so frail, innocent, and entirely non-threatening. He simply couldn’t see her as a threat, so he naturally calmed down around her.

“By the way, Sir Knight, is learning to dance really that difficult?”

“…It’s not difficult; I’m just making slow progress. I’ll get there eventually.”

“Do you think you’ll manage to master it in four days?”

“……”

For the record, that was how much time was left until the party.

It was a sharp remark, and Ihan, showing his discomfort, was about to respond when—

Hop!

“Don’t worry! Let’s practice together!”

“Miss Maid?”

“I know the basics of dancing.”

“Th-That’s…”

He hesitated, worried about the possibility of accidentally hurting her.

But then—

Plop!

“Come on, let’s start~.”

“……”

She showed no hesitation.

Before he could protest, she pressed close to him, taking his arm and leading him into a dance.

“…Huh?”

Within two seconds, Ihan’s eyes widened in shock.

…He was actually dancing.

It was awkward, but the important thing was that he was moving properly for the first time.

“Here, like this. The gentleman is supposed to support his partner. Hold her waist firmly.”

“…I’m afraid I might break you.”

“Hehe, I’m tougher than I look!”

“That… is true.”

Her waist was delicate and soft, making him worry that even a slight grip might harm her. But knowing her abnormal resilience, he tried to reassure himself.

‘Even so… why does it feel so hard to relax?’

The close proximity made her feel fragile and precious, like something he instinctively wanted to protect.

“Now, carefully—do a turn!”

“…Like this?”

“Yes! You’re really good at moving your body.”

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

“Ha…”

The movement of her hands, the steps of her feet, and the way her golden honey-colored eyes focused solely on him created a dreamy, almost surreal atmosphere.

It felt like a midsummer dream.

And just as suddenly—

“How’s that? Not bad, right?”

“...Yes, it worked.”

As with all dreams, it eventually came to an end.

For the first time, Ihan had successfully danced, yet instead of feeling accomplished, he was left in a daze.

“Hehe, I’m better than I thought, aren’t I? Sometimes, royal maids have to attend balls or parties, so I learned in advance. I made a lot of mistakes at first, though.”

“……”

For a moment, the thought struck Ihan like a blow.

She could attend parties with someone else.

The idea of her eyes, so full of focus and warmth, being directed at another man felt strangely suffocating.

“……”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“Hmm…”

“……”

Her gaze felt piercing, as if she could see right through him, and Ihan turned his head away as if to avoid interrogation.

And then, he thought to himself—

‘I suddenly don’t want to go to this ball.’

The knight no longer wanted to attend the ball.

…Not in the slightest.