Chapter 5: Deneb (4)
“Luina!”
“Calm down, Rowen,” Luina said, her voice steady. “It wasn’t an earthquake, and the building isn’t collapsing. The noise and shaking have already stopped.”
“Ah, right.” Rowen, who had rushed over and thrown himself protectively around Luina, stepped back looking faintly sheepish.
Luina calmly opened the window to survey the situation outside, then held out a hand to help the startled stationer up and gave a reassuring smile.
“They were adding another story to the building behind us, right?” Luina asked gently.
“What? Oh… yes,” the owner stammered. “It’s a restaurant. Business has been good, so they’re adding a second floor.”
“It looks like a few wooden beams on the second floor slipped and fell. It sounded worse than it was—nothing serious. Could you finish wrapping the colored pencils?”
At Luina’s calm request, the pale-faced owner hurriedly began wrapping the remaining colored pencils. Rowen clicked his tongue softly at how completely unfazed Luina looked, then slipped outside and made his way behind the building.
While it was hardly a major incident compared to the thunderous noise that had resembled a stampede of elephants, Rowen was certain he had seen something flash like lightning.
“What happened here? Is anyone hurt?” someone called.
“Thankfully, everyone had gone out for lunch,” another person replied. “There weren’t any passersby either.”
Thick wooden beams lay scattered across the road, blocking the way, but the situation no longer seemed especially dangerous. The owner would suffer some financial loss since one expensive-looking beam had been split cleanly in two.
Still, property damage was nothing compared to a loss of life.
But what was that flash? Did I imagine it?
Rowen, about to return to the stationer’s shop, turned the question over in his mind, then suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around.
Wait. A beam thicker than a grown man’s torso had split in two after falling from the second floor of such a low building?
And it had broken exactly in half.
Rowen blended into the murmuring crowd and studied the broken beam from the corner of his eye.
The hair at his nape rose.
The smooth cross-section could not possibly have come from a natural break.
A saw might have left a cut like that, but there had not been enough time. The same was true of an axe.
It looked as though someone had sliced through it with a sword.
A sword…?
Had that flash been from a blade? But could any human cut through a beam like this with a sword?
He carefully scanned the building under construction and noticed that one side of the roof had partially collapsed and now slanted downward.
So that’s why the beams fell.
Rowen’s eyes widened as he gauged the angle of the slope. If the beams had slid down from that position, they might have crashed straight through the stationer’s shop window.
Luina had been standing directly in their path.
Was it aimed at Luina? Or the stationer?
Rowen, momentarily lost in thought, shook his head. Neither of them had any reason to be the target of an assassination attempt. Moreover, anyone intent on killing them would never choose a method this conspicuous and unreliable.
But even so… The beams might have fallen by accident, but someone had clearly stopped them. Someone with almost inhuman skill with a sword.
Still struggling to make sense of it, Rowen spotted something glinting on the ground. He nearly gasped, but quickly bent down and snatched it up before anyone noticed.
It was a golden button engraved with a familiar crest. He studied the heavy, intricately worked button, his expression unreadable, then quickly slipped it into his pocket when he heard Luina’s voice.
“Rowen, what are you doing there?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Just checking if anyone was hurt. Did they finish wrapping everything?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you hungry? Want to get a bowl of noodles nearby?”
“Sounds good. I’ll buy dessert, then. There’s a wonderful waffle shop at the end of that alley. I’ve only tried it once, though.”
Luina’s face lit up at the thought of sweets. Not wanting to spoil her mood, Rowen gave her his usual easy smile.
Whenever she looked away, however, his sharp gaze swept over their surroundings.
* * *
When Luina appeared with her left wrist bandaged, her classmates’ faces tightened in sympathy almost as one.
Everyone knew that Luina trained with iron weights every morning and evening to strengthen her wrists. They could only imagine how badly she must have overworked that slender wrist of hers.
As a result, the looks directed at Ferken when he strolled into the training ground late were colder than ever.
Ferken also glanced briefly at Luina’s wrist. Surely even Ferken would go easy on her today. He was human, after all.
Or so they thought.
Ferken’s merciless strikes fell with the force of a cudgel, no different from usual.
Every time Luina blocked his heavy sword, the watching students winced as though their own wrists had taken the impact.
“Your right side is open,” Ferken said coldly.
Luina let out a heavy sigh and froze, the edge of his blade hovering beside her neck. No matter how fiercely she defended, an opening always appeared eventually.
Reviewing Ferken’s attack patterns every night before bed had become second nature. But predicting the direction of his strike and actually stopping it were two entirely different things.
“What are you, a moth hurling itself into a flame?” Ferken scoffed. “Is charging straight in all you know how to do? Is thinking about defense while you attack really that difficult?”
Even his insults were maddeningly inventive. That rude bastard! The watching students wondered if Ferken planned to speak to his future wife like that.
“Of course I think about defense. You’re just too fast.”
“If you can’t even block my attacks, you’ll die the moment you run into a Piniros.”
“Piniros? What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”
When Luina tilted her head in confusion, Ferken let out a short, incredulous laugh. “It’s in the Monster Encyclopedia, so you have heard of it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have passed the entrance exam.”
“But that was two months ago.”
There was no way everything Luina had crammed into her head right before the exam would still be there two months later. If the examination had included many questions about any monster other than the Tamacula, Luina would have failed outright.
Just the thought still made her shudder.
“What happened to your wrist?” Ferken asked, his gaze fixed on Luina’s wrist.
“Oh, nothing. My wrist just hurt a bit, so I bound it with some herbs.”
“You’re hopeless,” Ferken muttered. “A strained muscle?”
“A bruise. This morning, someone slammed the door to the dining hall without realizing my hand was there, and it got caught.”
Remilla herbs on a bruise? Ferken frowned slightly at Luina’s nonchalant reply.
He studied Luina’s wrist for a moment, visibly displeased, then turned and strode out of the training ground without a word.
Luina stared after him blankly for a moment, then lifted her sword again as though nothing had happened.
Rowen rushed over in alarm and caught her by the wrist. “Stop for today. You’re injured.”
“It’s fine. If I train even a little less than usual, Ferken notices right away.”
Rowen sighed. “So what if he does? And while we’re on the subject, what about switching partners if Ferken makes you uncomfortable?”
At Rowen’s cautious tone, Luina blinked slowly with a puzzled expression. The possibility had clearly never crossed her mind.
“He doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
“It just seems he treats you too roughly. And he’s incredibly rude to you.”
“Rude, huh… I’ve met a lot of people who are even more impolite,” Luina mused. “Someone once told me to come serve him at night when I turned fifteen. He said he would make certain I never went hungry.”
“What?” Rowen gasped.
Their classmates, who had been pretending not to pay attention to Luina and Rowen’s conversation, suddenly turned their heads, jaws dropping in unison. Born to noble families, however minor, none of them had ever heard such filth spoken aloud.
“He said he liked my face,” Luina continued, “but my status was too low for him to take me formally into his household.”
“What kind of sick bastard says that to a thirteen-year-old?” Rowen demanded.
“Albert Mason, the magistrate in our village. And I was eleven when he said it.”
For a moment, Rowen had to take a breath to keep the rising anger from exploding. Albert Mason. Though Rowen had never met him, merely repeating the name sent his temper soaring.
“That bastard calls himself a magistrate, and he said that to a child?”
“I suppose even he knew it was shameful.” Luina gave a small laugh. “He only said it when no one else was around.”
Rowen was so upset that, embarrassingly, his eyes nearly filled with tears. So this was why Luina was so difficult to hurt. Experiences like that had hardened her.
Compared to that, Ferken seemed almost gentlemanly. Still…
“Are you sure you’re okay with him?”
“What’s there not to like about Ferken? He’s the only one in our class who can teach me anything, and I’m the only one who can offer him anything resembling a challenge.”
Right…
Luina said exactly what she thought. She had no malice in her, but very little tact. To avoid meeting the eyes of their classmates, who were undoubtedly sinking into quiet despair, Rowen stared up at the empty ceiling.
* * *
“Luina! Luina Stello!”
At the infirmary instructor’s urgent call, Luina, who had been doing her evening exercises, sprinted across the training ground.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let me see your wrist.”
The instructor immediately began unwrapping the bandage, then drew a sharp frown.
Luina’s wrist was dark with bruising and badly swollen. Heat radiated from it even before the instructor touched it, and she sighed wearily.
“Good grief, you foolish child,” the instructor chided. “If you got hurt, you should have come to the infirmary right away. You’re a martial arts student—your body is your livelihood! And you should never put Remilla herbs on a swollen injury. They trap heat and make the inflammation worse.”
“It didn’t hurt that much,” Luina murmured.
“Not that much? It must’ve hurt just to hold a spoon!” The instructor clicked her tongue and applied an ointment.
A cooling sensation spread through Luina’s wrist, noticeably easing the throbbing pain.
The instructor smiled wryly at Luina’s curious expression. A noble child would have summoned a doctor over a single splinter.
“Come by the infirmary again before bed. I’ll prepare an ice pack for you to use overnight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Luina thanked her, then hurried out of the infirmary with her usual vigor.
The instructor blinked in disbelief before breaking into a small smile. At first, she had worried that a common-born top student might struggle to fit in with her classmates.
But apparently, there had been no need.
One handsome boy had even raced all the way to the infirmary and insisted that she be treated properly at once. If even a grown woman like her found Luina so adorable, it was only natural that boys her own age would find her more endearing.
With no one there to correct the instructor, her misunderstanding only grew deeper.