"Ah," Seven let out an exasperated sigh. "I feel like the chosen one."
He tightened his grip around the hilt, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. Holding a sword like this. Properly.
It felt unreal, like a dream he had chased since childhood. After all, he had grown up reading stories of King Arthur and Excalibur. Now, he was balancing a sword in his own hands. He made a squee noise that he had only ever made when he was at the peak of his manic episode.
The sword was made from sharpened iron, the crossguard was carved from red oak wood, a handle wrapped in faux leather cut from an old belt, and a pommel fashioned from brass.
"Haha. Don't grip it like that, Young Lord," the sword's owner, Edward, watched him with folded arms. "Loosen up a little. You'll end up choking my poor little baby."
"Yes." Seven replied quickly. "What about this?"
"No. Put some space between your hands. Don't let them kiss each other," Edward chuckled before glancing toward the yard. "Unfortunately, that's time for you. I'm switching patrols with Lythian's partner. Mind giving my little baby back?"
"Yes. Of course," he handed the sword over carefully. "Thanks for letting me touch it."
Truthfully, he had never planned to come here. He had never even considered the training ground after seeing Aizen earlier coming here. But somehow, he now found himself standing in this very place.
- – – 777 – – -
Earlier…
After seeing the training ground, Seven hurried back toward the castle. However, on the way, he ran into Iria, her arms laden with baskets of breakfast.
"Young Lord?" Iria said when she spotted him sneaking back. "You look pale. Don't tell me you were running all this time?"
"I-I… I guess."
"What an unforgivable act of negligence," she stepped closer, clearly upset but her tone was flat. "I believe I have told you not to overexert yourself? What if your illness worsens? I—"
She stopped herself. Clearly, she didn't want to mention his illness again, as by doing so might remind him of the promise.
Seven one of the baskets, helping her. She was always carrying heavy things twice her size— kidding. The baskets were only filled with food. It turned out she had been preparing meals for the knights stationed at the training ground.
He felt a small stab of envy. He hadn't been served breakfast himself both yesterday and today, though, according to his memories again, Seven Hart had requested long ago not to eat in the mornings.
When they arrived, he acted as if it were his first time seeing the training ground. He was a terrible actor!
"T-There was a place like this?" he said, trying too hard to sound casual. He needed to appear natural. After all, Seven Hart had rarely interacted with the knights before, and there were no memories of him ever coming here. "It's awesome. Being a knight, I mean."
Iria didn't respond right away. She didn't know how to respond. The Young Lord had never shown interest in the knights before. Something about him now felt… off.
It was as if the Young Lord had become an entirely different person after that month of isolation. In truth, she couldn't sense any malice from him anymore ever since yesterday. None at all. For a brief moment, she had wondered if someone else had possessed him.
But that was impossible. Only the Curse of Envidia could cause such a thing.
Whatever the case, as long as the Young Lord was safe and well, she had no right to question him.
"Iria! You're quite early today. It's all thanks to your delicious breakfast that we can head out with full stomachs," a knight said as he emerged from one of the tents. "EVERYONE, BREAKFAST'S HERE!"
He wasn't shouting. However, the sheer volume of his voice made it feel like he was.
"Ah. Please don't put it that way," Iria replied. She stepped aside to introduce Seven. "I'm only fulfilling the request of the Young Lord, Sir Edward. If not for him, I wouldn't be doing this."
Seven chuckled.
He was just as surprised as the knight. Aside from the two guards at the gate and the one he had encountered during his jog, he hadn't seen any of these men yesterday. Still, he hadn't expected Seven Hart to have such a gentle side like this. One that didn't quite match the strength expected of a [Hart].
"N-Nice to meet—"
Before Seven could finish, the knight dropped to one knee.
"I, Edward Marshal, greet the Young Lord!"
He blinked. The knights he had met so far had shown no such respect. Even the gate guards hadn't even acknowledged his presence yesterday.
Four more knights emerged from the other tents. Two of them were the guards from yesterday, and one of those two was the knight who had accompanied the old man, Aizen, just this morning.
That knight scoffed.
"What are you doing, Boss? Stand up. That man's not worth our—"
"You're standing before the Young Lord. Mind your words," Edward said sharply.
"Huh? So what?! There's no way I'd—"
"Lythian."
The knight, Lythian, let out a frustrated sigh. With no real choice, he knelt but he didn't lower his head. His gaze remained fixed on Seven as if daring him to react.
"I, Lythian, greet the Young Lord," he said stiffly.
The other knights followed the motion, introducing themselves one by one. Once they finished, they stood up and sat. Edward was the only one who stepped forward and helped Seven and Iria carry the baskets of breakfast.
Nothing much happened after that. They simply ate.
Of course, having skipped dinner the night before, Seven's stomach growled the entire time. At Edward's insistence, Iria served him as well though only a small portion.
"This should be enough for now, Young Lord. I'll prepare something proper once we return to the castle."
After the meal, the rude knight from earlier, Lythian, the one who had received potatoes from the old man Aizen yesterday, and who also accompanied Aizen earlier, stood up and walked towards Edwards.
"I'm heading back to my post, Boss."
Lythian left. However, one thought continued to bother Seven.
'Where is that old man? I swear he's here. Did he already leave? No. I hadn't crossed paths with him on the way here.'
His gaze looked around the training ground more intently than he realized.
"Young Lord?" Iria asked. "Are you unwell again? Perhaps the cold is getting into you? Do you want me to heal you again to give you a little warmth?"
Only then did Seven snap back to reality.
"Don't mind me. I was just invested by those swords on the rack. They looked too many for the knights here. Anyway, I was wondering," he casually turned to Edward, "are you the highest-ranking officer in this camp, Sir Edward? If I remember correctly, Sir Lythian called you 'boss' earlier."
Edward paused for a second before he continued chewing.
"You could say that," he replied. "And Young Lord, please stop using honorifics when addressing us. We are simply your knights."
Aside from the request, Edward's answer was open-ended. He neither confirmed nor denied the question, and Seven noticed it. He wanted to ask more. Especially about Aizen. But that would only make him suspicious.
The old man might still be here, somewhere among the tents and is listening. After all, they were eating outside.
'If that old man and possibly some of the knights are truly the culprits, then I need to be careful with my words.'
After all, throughout every universe, word games didn't work when the one under threat was the weaker side.
"Edward," Seven said, dropping honorifics as per Edward's request. "Regarding your sword, its design looks a little different from the others."
"Haha. You have a good eye, Young Lord!" Edward chuckled. He lifted the sword slightly and kissed it. "Of course it is different. This is my little baby. I've been with this guy longer than you've been alive."
"Oh. May I take a closer look at it?"
'Of course not, you bastard. Do you want to die?'
That was what Edward wanted to say. He hadn't let anyone touch this sword in years. But refusing the Young Lord outright wasn't an option either.
"Haha… it would be my honor," Edward responded, forcing a smile. "Here."
As he handed the sword over, the unease on Edward's face was impossible to hide. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary before letting go. But Seven didn't care and just took it.
Having already finished eating, he took a few steps away and gripped the hilt carefully. The weight settled into his palms. He examined the sword in silence.
Even so, he couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship.
"Ah," Seven let out an exasperated sigh. "I feel like the chosen one."
- – – 777 – – -
After returning back to the castle, Seven ran around the yard once more. Having eaten the breakfast Iria prepared for him as promised.
He was still improving his stamina. Though now, he was no longer alone. Iria waited at the side, healing him once every lap. The magic restored a bit of his strength each time, allowing him to keep going. She even cheered for him.
He performed far better than he had that morning!
I mean, who wouldn't? Having a maid cheer you on was an undeniable adrenaline boost.
Though it was still around five in the evening, Seven deliberately ended his training early.
After dinner, he asked Iria if she could heal him now instead of later. According to his memories, he always fell asleep shortly after she cast her healing spell before bed. He badly needed rest, so sleeping early is a lot better.
Iria hesitated at first… but eventually agreed.
As Seven lay on the bed, Iria placed her hands over him. A soft green glow spread from her palms. For a brief moment, she paused as if she had noticed something unusual about his body.
Then again, she smiled and continued until Seven drifted into sleep.