V2 Chapter 52: Queen

Training began very early the next morning.

The sun had barely coasted over the horizon, showering the city with the first rays of morning and melting the previous night’s frosted dew.

When I’d awoken, most of the training fields within the spires were reserved, according to the posted soldier. Fortunately, I found a field of mostly dirt with occasional patches of dead grass near the far reaches of the training grounds. Since none of the other fields were in use, I figured we were remote enough not to be disturbed.

Brianna stayed to watch briefly, but she left after claiming she was hungry. Judging by the look she gave Victor, who followed her, she was hungry, though probably not for food.

“Move faster,” I snarled, slamming the flat of my sword against Nasq’s shoulder. It wasn’t the greatest weapon, but Jackoby had recommended me a sturdy longsword. Nasq didn’t have his steel staff yet, so he was wielding a metal pole to little effect.

He cradled his shoulder as he leaped back, releasing a dozen fire spears toward me that I easily broke apart with a small release of energy directed at Nasq, just above his navel.

“How are you doing that?” Nasq complained, summoning more fire spears that I just as easily extinguished.

“With your magic level, you’re roughly at a high bronze core,” I said with a teasing smirk. “Right now, you simply don’t have enough raw energy to overpower me. Try using less brute force. Be clever."

The more I understood about magic, the more it resembled heart energy. This morning, I tested using energy to nullify mana’s condensation during spellcasting, and, to my surprise, it worked. Quite well, actually. The mechanisms of canceling magic were exactly the same as those for heart energy, the only difference being that I needed to disrupt the mana gathering above the navel, not the heart.

Though Nasq lacked a proper mana core—likely due to the Desire System’s influence—his magic still accumulated where one would be, making it easy to disrupt.

Nasq growled as I canceled another one of his spells, this time ice. “How do I get you to stop doing that?”

I laughed but was interrupted by a flurry of pinpoint, lightning-quick spear stabs aimed at my neck and heart with murderous intent. I wove between the attacks, moving just a hair’s breadth away so each stab struck nothing but air. Frustrated, Nida tried to spin and bring the butt of her spear toward my chin in an upward arc, but I stepped inside her reach and slammed my forehead into her nose as her head swung back to face me.

Blood gushed from her nose, and the tigerkin woman yelped, though she kept her feet planted and remained on guard.

“I don’t know who taught you your spearwork,” I chastised. “But spinning strikes don’t work in real fights. Never turn your back to your opponent.”

Nida nodded, crouching low. Instead of dashing toward me, she leaped to her right as the ground trembled under my feet. I glanced down to see a large crack bulldozing toward me, wisps of fire sparking from its depths.

“Interesting spell,” I remarked, eyeing Nasq, who was muttering indistinct words. I tried to interfere with the new spell, but this time, I was rebuffed. It felt as if the magic had fused with the ground itself and resisted my will by slamming a stone brick into my face. It took quite a bit of focus for me to not flinch at the invisible impact.

Is there a difference between creating and manipulating magic, then?

I moved to put distance between myself and the fiery crack, but Nida had other plans. The instant I moved, she redirected her momentum and unleashed another barrage of spear strikes. Though she couldn’t hit me, I still had to dodge or parry, which kept me within the crack’s strike zone.

Technically, I could have overpowered them, but that would defeat the purpose of training—for both of them to learn teamwork and for me to practice fighting one-handed. Simply overwhelming them with heart energy would be pointless.

So, rather than engage in that futility, I ducked one of Nida’s spear thrusts when she overextended and kicked her knee inward, causing her to stumble. As she staggered, I slammed the flat of my sword into her ribs. She cried out in pain, but I didn’t stop there.

I quickly maneuvered around her wobbling form and kicked her in the lower back, sending her headfirst toward Nasq’s flaming earth magic.

Nasq cursed, trying to cancel his spell, but Nida acted first. She planted her spear into the weakened ground and used it to vault over the cracks, her new black trousers slightly singed. “You’re going to buy me new pants, Nasq!” she shouted.

“What? Why me?”

“You burned my new ones!”

“How is any of this my fault?”

“Control your magic better, you lousy sorcerer.”

“I’m not the one who got literally kicked in the ass,” Nasq shot back.

I drove my longsword into the cracked dirt, shaking my head at their banter. “Alright, alright. Let’s go again.”

We continued the two-on-one training for the better part of three hours, stopping only when Hannah appeared on the field we were using—if it could be called a field.

Her hair bobbed as she ran toward us, twin tails waving with each gust of wind. I couldn't quite explain why, but in that moment, she reminded me of long grass.

“Brianna told me you were out here,” she said. As always, she smiled warmly, radiating positive energy. “I brought water and some snacks. You guys must be hungry.” She looked at me and stopped in her tracks, frowning slightly. Then at Nasq and Nida, frowning deeper. “Why didn’t you wear your old clothes for training?”

I glanced down at my new white t-shirt and black trousers, the same style Nasq and Nida had picked out the previous night. Only Brianna had bought dresses and extra clothing.

“We burned them,” I replied. Nasq and Nida nodded. Hannah shook her head with a giggle.

“Seriously, Lady Lilliana. They could have been salvaged, I’m sure.”

I snorted. “That would have been unnecessary.” Why would I want to salvage old clothing drenched in monster guts when I could buy new ones? Compared to the weapons we’d bought, the clothes cost practically nothing. Altogether, we hadn't even spent a single sun on them.

Excluding Brianna’s dresses, of course.

Hannah shrugged. “It’s your choice.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “I finished signing you up for the tournament. Apparently, the one Jackoby mentioned is called the Tournament of Honor, and only nobles can participate.”

“Dumb rule,” I muttered, taking the envelope from her.

“It’s pretty common,” Nasq said. “These tournaments are more about showcasing the strength of the nobility. Wouldn’t look good if some random peasant started defeating everyone.”

“I suppose.” I tore open the envelope and scanned it, grunting as I handed it back to Hannah, who passed it to Nida.

Nida read aloud: “Welcome to the Tournament of Honor, Lady Lilliana Silverwater. You have been registered as a participant in our prestigious tournament. Please make your way to the third section of the open grounds on the day of the tournament, seven days from the delivery of this letter. You will be tested to determine your proper division. You may bring whatever weapons you choose, except poison. As the Tournament of Honor consists of nobility from throughout Pularea, we require that no attacks be fatal. We look forward to seeing you reach for glory! Signed, Marchioness Eliza Alistar.”

“Division?” Nida asked.

“Most tournaments in Elyndor have divisions by core level,” Hannah said. “Lady Lilliana will likely face other silver realm core users, plus any second-realm mana users who join. I can't imagine any second-realm mana users showing up, given they're always busy studying." She motioned toward Nasq. "Except him, I guess."

“What tournament division wins the blade?” I asked, frowning at the division news.

“Whatever the peak realm is,” Hannah replied. “I haven’t heard of any third-realm sorcerers or energy users registering.”

"Hmmm, it does seem unlikely that a third realm would appear, mana or energy," I agreed. Considering Duke Alistar and his sister were the only gold core awakeners I’d even heard of, I doubted any would compete in a tournament that wasn't thrown by the royal family.

“If there is one, they’d likely be seeded in the finals for the second realm division,” Hannah added. “Unless there’s more than one—then you could request a transfer to the third realm.”

I grunted. “How would I do that?”

She grinned. “I’ll take care of it if needed. Grandma will allow it.”

“Will any successor candidates participate?” I couldn’t recall if any were near the silver realm.

Hannah shook her head. “Probably not. Although it’s a noble tournament, most use proxy fighters. Darrow, for instance, will likely use Sir Alaric.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is he nobleborn?”

“No idea.” Hannah pushed the basket of food toward me, grabbing a blanket from it and laying it flat on the ground. “Let’s eat!”

“Anything else I should know about this tournament?” I pressed.

Hannah thought for a moment, and I followed her to the picnic blanket. She munched on a sandwich as I signaled for Nasq and Nida to resume their training. “Well, most proxy fighters use a moniker. Given the politics around your…” She paused, making a vague circle gesture with her hands toward me, “...status, it might cause obstacles if you were to go yourself. Pretending to be your own proxy could help you avoid any discrimination toward your position in the duchy.”

I considered her words, grabbing an orange fruit from the basket and biting into it, a rush of bitter juice spilling down my throat. “Not a bad idea.”

“You should wear a mask,” Nida teased, just as a ball of ice cracked into the side of her head.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize we were paused,” Nasq blurted, lowering his hand.

“There aren’t any pauses in war,” I corrected.

Nida’s nose started to bleed again, and she pinched the bridge, still smirking. “Yeah, wear a mask. You could call yourself ‘Queen.’”

I laughed, though not because it was a bad idea.

“Yes, I think I will. What a great idea, my paragon.”

“Wait, you’re not serious, are you?” Nasq gawked at me. “Isn’t that a bit too… on the nose?”

“What? Why?” Hannah asked, her gaze shifting between me and Nasq. “She’s not a queen, right? And she has no royal blood? How is that ‘on the nose’?” She lowered her voice, attempting a weak imitation of Nasq’s tone.

Nida just rolled her eyes and lifted her spear. Nasq yelped as she launched herself at him, his arms flailing to draw some magic symbol in the air.

I closed my eyes, crossed my legs, and focused inward on my heart core. A single brilliant silver ring glowed proudly around my core.

One down, two to go.