854 C-4, Sun Month 4, Moon 18
I stared down my opponent, focusing on her hands as she adjusted their grip around her blade. I made sure to match even her slightest movement with a reaction of my own. If she raised her blade, I moved mine into a position to intercept it. If she took a step forward, I took one small step back to keep her in my range but slightly out of hers. Failure to account for even the smallest detail could put me at an immediate disadvantage and spell the end. But this standoff couldn’t last forever.
Suddenly, she dashed toward me, slashing at my torso. I stepped backward, just barely avoiding her reach, and brought my blade above my head before swiftly swinging it down. She quickly twirled to the right and repositioned her blade before thrusting it at my head. I narrowly avoided it by tilting my head to the side. She immediately retracted her blade and unleashed a flurry of swift strikes, silently slashing through the air. I dodged the first one, parried the second, dodged the third, dodged the fourth, and then parried the fifth, slightly knocking her off-balance—or so I thought.
I went for a big swing, raising my blade over my head. This is it. I can do it...right? No, my instincts are telling me not to, but this looks like a good attack angle. I paused for maybe a fraction of a second before deciding to follow through with my original plan. I thought this could be the attack that decided the match, but she smirked and stopped pretending to have lost her balance. She immediately closed the distance between us and rested her blade on my neck. I didn’t even have a chance to move.
“There it is again,” she sighed. “Your hesitation.”
“When you’re up against a stronger opponent, of course you’re gonna hesitate for a moment or two,” I grumbled.
“It doesn’t matter who you’re facing. Stay confident. I’m not the one beating you; it’s your own hesitation.”
“No, I think you’re definitely the one beating me.”
I couldn’t help but have traumatic flashbacks to when we were kids and would play a seemingly innocent game of her own invention called Blade Saint, which always ended with her beating me with a stick (my stick).
“Think what you want. Just some friendly advice from the person who’s beaten you hundreds of times by now,” she said, sheathing her blade.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, doing the same.
“I mean, seriously, don’t you get tired of losing to me, Ca’al? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy it,” she teased.
“One of these days...” I grumbled.
“Don’t worry. This isn’t where we end,” she said, grinning.
Immediately after her win was decided, the area began buzzing with the chatter of five other students who’d been around to watch our match.
“Wow, that’s another win for Soreya.”
“Yeah, but it’s just against Ca’al. What does it matter if she keeps beating the weakest one of us?”
“I mean, yeah, he’s weak, but he’s the only one challenging her.”
“Isn’t it because he’s the only one stupid enough to do that?”
“Like a small dog growling at a bear or something.”
“No, it’s ’cause he’s the only one with a spine,” Soreya barked, frowning.
“It’s because he’s too weak to realize how strong you are!” one of the students said.
“That doesn’t even make sense...” Soreya sighed.
Then, the students resumed their excited clamoring over Soreya.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter who challenges Soreya. Nobody beats her.”
“Nobody can beat her, not even Master Crayne!”
“Makes you kinda wonder why he’s our master anyway...”
“Ahem. Maybe you need a reminder?”
The excited chatter abruptly stopped at the sound of an older man’s stern voice. They all slowly turned their heads toward the source, fearfully checking his identity, though they already knew. Standing there was a man in robe-like clothing that revealed his toned body underneath. He folded his arms, looking at us with a disappointed expression.
“M-Master Crayne!” the kids cried out in unison.
“What have I said about unauthorized duels?” he barked.
“Well...” I started.
“Well?” He growled.
“Master Crayne, please,” Soreya spoke up. “Ca’al was just helping me practice a stance.”
Master Crayne sighed, shaking his head. “Soreya, your instinct to defend your fellow disciple is admirable, but don’t think that it’ll save any of you from your punishment. Ten laps around the monastery! All of you!”
An audible groan erupted from all of us, but as much as we wanted to protest our punishment, we knew better than to do that. Though we’d all come here at different times and ages, we’d all lived here long enough to know better than to go against him. A chorus of grumbling and then shuffling of feet followed our master’s order.
“What’s the point in us training if the Blade Saint’s just gonna be Soreya anyway?” one of the students said.
“I mean, I guess the Blade Saint usually has a partner, so for that sake, I guess?” replied a different student.
“Sure, but I dunno. Is it really worth it to have come here just for that?”
The other students complained. For you guys, it might not be worth it. This place had become my sanctuary, and it was all thanks to Soreya. Despite how many times I’d bugged her about it, I’d known that I’d only been here thanks to her begging the Guardian scout to take me in too. Who knows what kind of shitty life I’d have right now or if I’d even be alive without her doing that. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if my shitty parents had tried to sell me off to get some quick cash.
“Come on, Ca’al,” Soreya said, sighing deeply at having to run.
I nodded and followed. How many times have I seen her back? No matter how bleak the situation, no matter how stuck or lost I felt, somehow, she’d always find me and pull me forward by the hand into the light. To be honest, I had a wish. It wasn’t a big wish or even one that I ever expected to come true, but even so, I thought about it every day. Instead of her always pulling me into the light, I wished that, one day, I could be at her side as we both walked toward the light.
That was why I’d sworn that I’d get stronger—so that I could fight by her side...not that it was working out great though. To date, I’d beaten Soreya a total of zero times. I guess there’s the caveat that nobody has ever beaten her, but also, I’m the only one actively trying to. I was the only one stupid enough to keep challenging the obvious next Blade Saint.
It was really just a matter of time until she was officially named the Blade Saint, and I couldn’t wait for her hard work to finally pay off. As the person closest to her, always trying to support her in every way I could, nothing would make me happier. Of course, it’d be sad because her being recognized as the Blade Saint would mean that she’d be shipped off somewhere else to train as a Saint, but I knew that she’d succeed where others had failed. Not having her around anymore would almost be like losing a limb, but Soreya was destined for greatness. I had no doubt that she’d be the one to finally save the world with the other Saints. I need to work harder so that I can be there with her.
“Hey, Ca’al,” Soreya called out to me from slightly ahead. “Let’s race!”
“Why? Running already sucks enough without having to add a competitive aspect to it.”
I tried shaking the negative thoughts out of my head, but they kept coming back. What would happen to me when she was eventually gone? Would I be there by her side? Or would I...
“Aw, come on. It’ll be fun. How about...first one to finish the laps— Actually, you know what, why don’t you decide what the winner gets?” she smirked.
“Why?”
“It’s just me being nice. Since you’re going to lose anyway, it’s better if you decide, so you can make sure you don’t end up losing anything that you treasure.”
“You’re assuming that I’m gonna lose? We’re not sword fighting. I do beat you occasionally on these runs.”
“‘Occasionally’ being the operative word. So come on, what’s it gonna be?”
“Y’know, what’s stopping me from deciding on the worst reward possible and throwing this competition so that you get it?”
“Sheesh, do you really think I’d agree to something with a shitty reward? That’d be stupid. Besides, I know that your pride wouldn’t allow you to do that. You love to compete.” She grinned.
“Yeah, yeah, you know me so well. Okay then, how about...” I racked my brain for an appropriate reward. “First bite of a parfait?”
She stared at me. “Ha ha. What makes you think there’s gonna be parfaits? When has Master Crayne ever allowed that for anyone?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. It’ll be down the road, but once you’re traveling around as the Blade Saint, you’ll be going to all different kinds of places, right? There’ll definitely be parfaits in one of those, so how about the loser has to treat the winner to a parfait.”
Here at the monastery, our diets were strictly regulated. We were restricted to healthy foods to maximize our vitality and provide us with enough energy to survive the rigorous training we underwent.
Despite having lived in the city for some odd years before moving to the countryside, Soreya apparently had never eaten a parfait. Out in the countryside where we’d lived, there hadn’t been anywhere with stores that’d sell anything remotely close to that kind of dessert; we didn’t even have ice cream out there.
Personally, I’d only heard about parfaits after arriving at the monastery. Both Soreya and I’d agreed that it was the most interesting dessert we’d ever heard of. It was essentially a dream come true. After all, where else could you find a perfect combination of various desserts in one glass? Apparently, parfaits came in so many different combinations that you could open up entire restaurants dedicated to them and have a complicated menu that went on for pages.
From how parfaits had been described to us, we’d been very interested in learning how it tasted. But of course, none of us could leave the monastery until either the Blade Saint was discovered or until it was determined that we weren’t a candidate.
“That’s a pretty-far-in-the-future reward, Ca’al,” Soreya laughed. “But...yeah. I like it. Parfaits it is.”
“So now that’s decided, let’s go!” I said, picking up the pace.
“Heh. You’re on.”