The other squires could not wait for Heath all day — and so they moved on to their strength training regimen. However, Gormus and the rest stayed behind, watching over the still-running Fie.
And eventually, Fie reached the goal, having taken more than twice the time of the slowest squire in the northern dormitory. Covered in sweat, she looked like she was in bad shape.
“You did it, Heath...” Remie, in particular, seemed like he was ready to cry upon seeing her poor state.
The other three were also acutely aware of Fie’s pallor, and had apprehensive expressions on their faces. Unfortunately, it was as they had expected — a few seconds after reaching the goal, Fie collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Heath!”
Heslow, Gormus, and the others rushed to Fie’s side in a panic.
Roy, the King of Orstoll, was speaking to his officials.
Crow picked that particular moment in time to show up.
“Oi, Roy!”
“What is it?”
Although they were in front of officials, Crow’s attitude hardly changed.
“Oh my, if it isn’t Marquess Harbald.”
The officials who had been speaking with Roy greeted Crow in a reverent manner.
“Haha, stop that. While it’s true that my father is quite something, I’m just an ordinary knight.”
“Oh no, no, that would not do at all...”
(It would probably take a lot more to anger these magistrate types. Well, not like I’m going to suddenly change how I act.)
Crow hailed from a noble family that wielded considerable power in the Kingdom of Orstoll, and he was also Roy’s childhood friend. He never did quite get used to the formalities showered upon him by Roy’s officials — after all, in his own eyes, he was just a knight.
However, Crow was aware that he had an informal tone with almost everyone. He eschewed formalities, even speaking with the King this way on account of them being childhood friends. As such, no one could really complain about that part of him.
“So? Did something happen?”
“Well... you told me to watch after Heath. That boy... he immediately overdid it in training and collapsed.” Scratching his head, Crow relayed the news to Roy, sighing all the while.
“I see.” Roy nodded once, before turning to his officials without hesitation. “Something came up. I’ll be going now.”
“Y-Your Highness? There is a meeting in five minutes?”
“Yes. About that meeting, I have more or less assigned and instructed you on the direction it will take. I will now leave the rest in your capable hands.”
With that, Roy left his officials behind, making his way to the northern dormitory. Following after him was Crow, wearing his usual wry smile.
“Where is Heath?”
“Currently resting on a bed in the sick bay.”
(How pathetic... I have to do much better next time...)
That was what Fie thought as she lay on a bed in the sick bay, staring up at the ceiling.
“Ahh. Look at this guy. You have the face of someone who’s done a little too much, again.”
Out of nowhere, Crow had approached Fie’s bed.
“Huh? Sir Crow. Wah! What are you doing?!”
Crow approached Fie and promptly swept her up in a princess hold. Upon seeing Fie’s embarrassed expression, Crow could not help but laugh.
“I’ve come to deliver you to a lecture for silly platoon members who overexert themselves. Captain Yore is going to give you a hell of a scolding, just you wait.”
“The Captain is...?”
A lecture... Fie wondered if she had done something bad. Oh, it must have been because something as simple as running had caused her to fall over. It was true, after all, that her performance at training had been pathetic. Perhaps it was a given that the Knight-Captain would be angry.
That very same Fie that was stewing with worry had been scooped up by Crow with just one arm — after which Crow proceed to flick Fie on the nose with a free finger.
“Ouch!”
“You idiot. That isn’t it.”
“But I haven’t even said anything yet...”
“I can tell from your face. You are very easy to read, you know that?”
So it seemed that Fie was wrong in her assumptions about something. Then, what was the Captain upset about? Fie tilted her head to one side.
“You’re light, you know. Like a girl.”
“L-Leave me alone...”
Escorted along in Crow’s arms, Fie was delivered into a small, quiet courtyard at the back of the castle. No one else was in it or around it — except for Yore.
“So you came...” Yore observed, in his typically quiet manner, after observing Fie’s arrival. Crow motioned for Fie to sit in a chair that had been prepared for her in advance. Without a word, Yore placed a hand on the hilt of a sword sheathed at his waist.
(Eh...? He’s... going to cut me in half? Is he that angry...!?)
In the face of Yore’s serious expression, Fie realized she was being a little silly. After all, there was no precedent or reason for Yore to just slice her in half on the spot. That was obvious, but...
Around Yore were about five wooden dummies.
“Observe, Heath.” Yore drew his sword.
In a flash of silver, the wooden dummies around Yore were felled, all five being cut down by the same single stroke.
In Fie’s eyes, Yore’s movements were all but invisible.
“What do you think, Heath?”
“Th-That’s amazing, Captain.”
It really was amazing. The speed of the sword was one thing, but the level of swordplay was notable in its own right. Although the dummies were scattered around in odd positions, they were all cut in the correct places.
(This amazing technique... Such a thing would be unthinkable in Daeman...)
Fie was silenced by the sheer show of force and skill in Yore’s swordplay.
“Heath... Do you think you could copy what I just did in, say, a week...?”
“N-No... It’s impossible...”
There was no way she could do something like that. Even if Fie had trained for her entire lifetime, she was unsure if she could ever do something like that.