“You have a peculiar way of irking people. I want to see if your arrogance matches your skill.”

“Ah, no. My skill is hardly worth mentioning.”
Arcadia might recognize my skill the moment our swords cross, just as the Black Worm did.

Without realizing, I raised my voice.

“I refuse.”

Arcadia’s eyes widened as big as lanterns.

“This is preposterous. I make the decisions.”

Oh, Arcadia.

“I’m sorry, but you’re an excessive opponent. Perhaps a soldier, but not…”

“What happened to the confidence you had earlier? Weren’t you going to prove your worth?”

“Still…”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be helpful to the North? I remember everything you said.”

Arcadia smirked.

“I won’t change my decision. That’s fine with you, right, Your Grace?”

“……If that’s what you want.”

The Duke’s blue eyes stared at me.

It was an afternoon with warm sunlight but a cold wind.

I walked towards the center of the plains where the sword duel was to take place, like a cow being led to a slaughterhouse.

Many knights had already gathered there.

The woman with the half-mask. The woman suspected to be a spy from the South. The woman who claimed she could wield a sword and wanted to prove herself. The woman who saved the pitiful Yora from Bern.

The unexpected attention made the duel an event of even greater interest.

Today, here, in front of the empire’s finest knights, I must hide my true skills.

Just enough to seem promising, like I could become an exceptional swordfighter with effort. That’s all I should reveal.

My real skills should only be used when it’s time to save Duke Sion Belphegor of the North.

But that’s still years away. Until then, I must act like I’ve worked hard to become a top knight.

Arriving at the center of the plains, Yora, already there, waved at me cheerfully. Seeing Yora among soldiers of similar age, I felt slightly relieved.

‘It’s good. He seems to be doing well.’

Then, Duke Belphegor approached the site.

The Duke himself?

Along with Arcadia, an equally or more skilled person to hide my skills from.

The thought gave me a headache.

Following the Duke with his black hair, Arcadia, with his long platinum hair fluttering, approached. Two men followed him.

“Wow! Today’s contestants are entering!”

One of the knights whistled, welcoming the two men at the back.

But one of the men’s faces seemed familiar.

Greenish hair, sparkling black eyes, and a face that appeared to be of a similar age to mine.

The whistling knight shouted towards him.

“Is your injury healed, Bran?”

‘Ophilitt.’

I stared at the young man before me.

Bran Ophilitt, who was fooled by my schemes and rebelled in the North in my previous life, who died by my hand after his usefulness ended. That Bran Ophilitt is alive in this life.

‘You were this radiant in your youth.’

A tender warmth spread through a corner of my heart.

Duke Belphegor took his seat under a large tree. While everyone focused on the Duke, Arcadia spoke.

“The first opponent to duel this woman is Bran Ophilitt! Not yet a formal knight, but a squire receiving knightly training.”

Woaaaaah!

The knights’ cheers filled the plains.

I see. To you all, this duel is a joyous festival after a long and fierce battle.

…While I’m dreading it.