Early dawn.
The vacant lot on the outskirts of the academy, just before sunrise, was submerged in a bluish light.
Lowell dragged along a body soaked in sweat and heavy as lead, repeating push-up after push-up.
His muscles screamed as if they were being torn apart, but calculating the time left until the duel, he already knew all too well that he couldn’t overcome it without at least this much pain.
Just then, hurried footsteps broke the silence.
Though Lowell could not sense mana at all, he noticed the strange phenomenon of the air around him rippling pleasantly, and the dew that had settled at his feet evaporating cleanly.
The overwhelming mana Celestia possessed was reacting to her emotions, forcibly altering the environment around her.
“Celestia, you’re up early.”
Lowell turned his head in familiar fashion and greeted her.
Even though he could not see the wind spirits, Celestia’s arrival was unmistakable from the way a breeze like the scent of flowers blew whenever she approached, and from the sensation of his disordered breathing settling down.
This meeting, which had continued for several days now, had become a fairly natural part of Lowell’s daily routine as well.
“Good morning, Lowell. You’re working hard today too.”
The voice that reached him was calm, as Celestia’s usually was, but its end trembled ever so slightly.
She seemed to be trying to maintain her composure, but she could not hide her faintly flushed cheeks or her breathing, which was a little more hurried than usual.
The transparent mana she emitted tickled the blades of grass around them, making a light, cheerful sound.
“I just... heard the news. They say Chloe finally came out of her room.”
Her eyes sparkled like those of a child who had discovered a jewel.
As if she could hardly contain her joy, Celestia fidgeted with the tips of her clasped fingers and took another step closer to Lowell before adding,
“And it wasn’t just that she came out of her room. Chloe is... swinging her sword in the training hall right now. I heard she started training early this morning, just like you.”
Celestia drew in a small breath, like someone who had witnessed an unbelievable miracle.
She stared intently at Lowell, as if he truly were some saint capable of curing invisible illnesses of the heart.
The iron door that countless professors had tried to coax open, that renowned counselors had clung to without making it budge—Lowell, whom everyone called a problem child and a failure, had not only thrown it open with a single visit, but had even revived her fighting spirit.
“Tell me, Lowell. What kind of warm words did you offer her to make her change her mind?”
At Celestia’s question, which was almost reverent, Lowell wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead as if it were nothing and answered.
“Warm words, my foot. I just challenged her to a duel.”
“...Huh?”
“I said I challenged her to a duel. Officially, with Professor Glayton’s signature and everything.”
For a moment, Celestia’s thought process seemed to physically stop.
Her eyes, which always shone violet, blinked blankly, and even the clear flow of mana circling the area seemed flustered, freezing in place as if rooted there.
“A duel...? Lowell, you challenged Chloe?”
“Yeah. She’s a prideful one, so... I told her that if I win, she has to come under me and serve me as my knight for the rest of her life.”
“......!!”
Celestia froze like a statue, her mouth half open.
What she had imagined was Lowell offering the same kind and sincere consideration he had shown her, not some grand festival of pride-burning madness where he shoved someone’s pride into a trash can, poured oil over it, and set it on fire.
A silence like the calm before a storm filled the vacant lot.
Lowell calmly wiped away his sweat with a piece of cloth and prepared for his next exercise, while Celestia continued staring at him with a dazed expression, utterly at a loss for words.
How long had she stood there blankly? Celestia soon came back to her senses at the sound of Lowell calling her.
“Celestia.”
Lowell slung the cloth he had used to wipe his sweat over his shoulder and waved his hand in front of Celestia’s eyes as she stood frozen in a daze.
Only then did her frozen time begin to flow again.
Celestia started in surprise, her shoulders twitching, and the mana particles that had been suspended around them scattered in every direction as if expressing her bewilderment.
“Ah... Sorry. I was thinking about something else for a moment...”
Celestia let out a dry cough, trying to regain her usual composure.
But her mind was still overloaded, trying to process the absurd reality that “Lowell challenged Chloe to a duel, saying he would make her his personal knight.”
As she looked at Lowell with complicated eyes, Lowell took another step closer and asked,
“Do you have time today?”
At his sudden approach, Celestia’s eyes wavered greatly.
Lowell’s body heat, carried through the dawn air, and the sudden scent of sweat stimulated her senses.
When he, who had always maintained a certain distance, came so close without hesitation, Celestia unconsciously drew in a breath and nearly stepped backward.
“T-Time...? Yes... I’m fine until class starts...”
When Celestia answered, unable to hide her fluster, Lowell wore a puzzled expression for a moment before speaking.
“Great. If you have time, help me out.”
“Me... help you?”
“Honestly, if things go on like this, Chloe’s actually going to kill me on the day of the duel. I want to live, so I’m asking for a favor.”
At Lowell’s attitude, far too confident for someone asking to be saved, Celestia once again found herself speechless.
Where had that arrogance from moments ago gone, the one that claimed he would make Chloe serve him as her lord? Now he was extending a hand to her, the academy’s greatest genius, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
But Lowell’s eyes held no trace of playfulness. They were utterly serious.
Feeling as though the sound of her own heartbeat was louder than the whispers of the spirits, Celestia had no choice but to nod before she knew it.
###
At last, the fated day dawned.
The revival of an official duel, which had lain dormant in the academy’s piles of documents for over a hundred years, stirred up a tidal wave of attention.
The old regulation was clearly part of the school rules, and with Professor Glayton’s seal stamped on it, no one had any grounds to stop this venerable ceremony.
The stage for the duel was not some remote corner of Saint Harbor.
It was Raiden Hall, the historic combat training arena on the main campus, where the former glory of the Knight Department still lingered.
In the waiting room of Raiden Hall, with its high ceiling and massive stone pillars displaying their majesty,
Chloe Jellin stood alone amid the cool silence.
Before her lay the formal dress armor of the Knight Department, which she had not taken out even once since being pushed out to Saint Harbor.
With trembling hands, Chloe lifted the silver breastplate.
The moment the sensation of cold metal touched her skin, memories she had wanted to forget flew in like fragments and lodged themselves in her chest.
Not long ago, during the final evaluation to determine the top student of the year, she had rolled across the cold floor of this very Raiden Hall.
Before Celestia’s overwhelming magic, the swordsmanship infused with aura—the essence of knightly arts—had been powerless, and her once-proud sword had merely cut through empty air.
The stigma of second place had become a scar then.
With a sudden bout of dizziness, tension seized the back of her neck.
Her heart beat abnormally fast out of fear that the memory of defeat would repeat itself again—no, that the Knight Department’s last pride would once more become a laughingstock for the main campus.
And yet, in the hands that tightened the leather straps of her armor, there was a strange pulse.
“An official duel after a hundred years...”
Though it had been mocked as outdated, this was the very essence of chivalry she had so desperately longed for.
The fact that she would become the protagonist who upheld her beliefs upon a sacred stage recognized by the academy made the blood of the warrior hidden beyond her fear boil.
The excitement of writing the first page of lost glory with her own hands flushed her cheeks red.
But that excitement turned into bitter irritation and anger the moment she checked the duel roster placed in the corner of the waiting room.
[Attacking Side: Lowell von Adrian]
“Of all people... it had to be that man.”
Chloe gripped the hilt of the longsword before her so hard it seemed it might break.
The sacred ceremony she had admired all her life.
The fact that the opponent she had to face as the protagonist of that radiant stage was none other than Lowell, the academy’s worst failure, an unimpressive man without a single drop of mana, was an unbearable disgrace.
It was like filth intruding where it did not belong.
That such a person would be the opponent in the first duel announcing the revival of the Knight Department felt like an even worse insult than when she had lost to Celestia.
“......I will make you pay for this.”
Her blond hair, once roughly disheveled, was now neatly tied up, and her blue eyes, which had trembled with shame, were filled with cold killing intent and complex fighting spirit.
The trauma of defeat, the thrill of chivalry, and her bitter anger toward Lowell all mingled together, creating a chilling presence around her.
Beyond the door, the murmur of the spectators came like waves.
From students of the main campus to professors who had come after hearing the rumors, Raiden Hall was already packed to the rafters.
Chloe adjusted her helmet and pushed open the heavy iron door.
The moment Chloe shoved open the iron door and stepped into the training arena where light poured down, the heat filling Raiden Hall crashed over her like an explosion.
“Waaaaaaah! Chloe Jellin!”
“Show him! Show that scoundrel the true strength of the Knight Department!”
From the students of the main campus to the trainees who had rushed over from distant Saint Harbor after hearing the news, the spectator seats were already filled with cheers.
To them, Lowell von Adrian was the disgrace of the academy and a thorn in their eyes.
A failure with no mana, yet all mouth, who talked back to professors and caused nothing but trouble.
The news that such a Lowell had dared to challenge Chloe, the second-ranked student of the year, to a duel was more than enough to stimulate their destructive instincts.
The people were eagerly awaiting the sight of Chloe trampling Lowell miserably with overwhelming force.
“......!”
The sensation of thousands of gazes and support pushing at her back.
Amid the fervent cheers directed at her, Chloe felt the trauma of defeat wash away.
She drew the longsword at her waist and raised it high into the sky.
The silver blade shone brilliantly under the magical lighting, and at her dignified air, a roar erupted once more, loud enough to shake Raiden Hall.
The confidence she had lost swelled within her chest.
She no longer doubted her victory.
Vowing to proclaim the revival of the Knight Department with a graceful victory befitting this noble ceremony, she glared sharply at the entrance on the opposite side.
But the sight of the opponent who appeared soon after instantly transformed Raiden Hall’s cheers into a strange silence and jeers.
“What the hell is that...?”
Lowell, who appeared after opening the opposite door, looked so shabby in contrast to Chloe, who was armed in plate armor, that it was almost pathetic.
Instead of proper armor, he wore a light outfit patched with old pieces of leather, and the iron helmet hiding his face so clearly looked hastily put together that it was almost comical.
But what shocked people most was the weapon in his hand.
“Bamboo...?”
Chloe’s blue eyes narrowed in astonishment.
In Lowell’s hand was neither a sharp sword nor a heavy spear, but a long stalk of bamboo that looked as if it had just been cut from a mountain, with its branches still thickly attached.
With the bamboo resting lightly on his shoulder, Lowell walked leisurely toward the center of the training arena as if he had merely come out for a neighborhood stroll.
“Lowell von Adrian! Are you joking?!”
Chloe’s voice trembled with anger.
To appear at the sacred ceremony of an official duel carrying a stick like that was an obvious insult to her, and to knightly arts.
“Professor Glayton! This prank has gone too far!”
Chloe shouted toward Professor Glayton, who was seated in the VIP section, raising her sword.
Because of her anger, her voice tore sharply through the air.
“To bring firewood like that into this sacred dueling ground! This is not merely an insult to me, but an act that sullies the history of a duel revived after a hundred years. I request that this absurd duel be stopped at once!”
From the spectator seats, fierce jeers erupted in agreement with Chloe’s words.
However, Professor Glayton, the witness and supervisor of the duel, did not so much as twitch.
She adjusted her magnifying glasses and answered in a dry voice.
“There are no restrictions in the regulations regarding the material or form of a weapon. If the participant has judged that it can contain their skill and brought it with them, then whether it is a tree branch or a stone, it does not undermine the legitimacy of the duel.”
“But, Professor...!”
"Chloe Jellin. If you have a complaint, break that stick with your skill first, then lodge your protest. If not..."
Professor Gleyton's gaze shot sharply toward Chloe.
"Are you saying you'll lower your sword in a duel simply because you find your enemy's weapon laughable?"
"......!"
Chloe bit down hard on her lip.
Before the full professor's firm ruling, further protest was meaningless.
Suppressing her humiliation, she turned back toward Lowell.
Strength entered the hand gripping her sword, and blue aura began to ripple over the silver blade.
That was when Lowell moved.
He casually tossed the long bamboo, covered in messy sprouting twigs, from his shoulder onto the floor, and with a light sound, it rolled across the ground.
Instead, Lowell slowly drew another bamboo stick from where it hung slanted at his waist—thick-jointed, smooth, and cleanly shaped.
At the sight, Chloe snorted and was about to thrust out her sword.
But the instant her gaze met Lowell's eyes through the narrow slit of his helmet, her movement froze as if it were a lie.
'What is this...?'
Those were not the eyes of the troublemaker or failure she had dismissed all this time.
His usual languid, unmotivated look was nowhere to be found.
At that cool stare, its depths impossible to fathom, Chloe unconsciously drew in a breath.
"......!"
Goosebumps rose along Chloe's spine.
The confidence that had swelled within her amid the spectators' cheers just moments ago was instantly replaced by cold wariness.
Though she clearly possessed overwhelming equipment and skill, fear came over her—the fear that the tip of that insignificant bamboo would pierce precisely through the gaps in her armor.
And Lowell aimed that bamboo straight at Chloe.
It was the very instant after Lowell took his stance with the bamboo leveled.
Shuuuuuk!
With a strange ripping sound that broke the silence, the noise of something cutting through the air filled Raiden Hall.
No one in the spectator seats could grasp what it was.
But Chloe, whose eyes were locked with Lowell's, felt her senses scream a warning close to a shriek.
At the edge of her vision, a small silver-glinting afterimage—an iron shot—came flying in as if compressing space itself.
"......!"
Chloe's body moved before thought could.
Reflexively, she swung her sword and knocked away the unidentified projectile that was hurtling toward her chest.
The trajectory of the longsword, rippling with blue aura, split the air, and then a sharp impact rang out as metal struck metal.
Clang!
Immediately afterward, Chloe's eyes filled with shock.
The attack fired from mere bamboo held destructive power beyond imagination.
A shockwave surged through her sturdy steel sword clad in aura, racing up from her wrist to her shoulder.
"Ugh...!"
A numbing pain, as if her palm would split open, swept through the hand gripping her sword.
It was not simply heavy; all of its rotational force and kinetic energy had been concentrated into a single point like an awl, creating a pressure that felt as though it were striking the bones inside her armor directly.
Forced one step back, Chloe stared at Lowell, her sword hand trembling.
That had definitely been fired from the tip of the bamboo Lowell was aiming.
With just that single attack, Chloe realized it instinctively.
The man standing before her now was no longer the failing student who had only invited ridicule.
A power outside all norms, one that seemed to mock even the aura she treasured so dearly, had flown from within that insignificant bamboo tube.
The cheers from the audience seats had turned into a scream-like silence, and amid the numbing pain in her wrist, Chloe broke into a cold sweat as she adjusted her grip on her sword.
Yet beyond Lowell's helmet, his eyes still gleamed fiercely as they remained fixed on her.