"You've won. You may accept this mission."

Aifei, drowning in frustration, curled up limply. So utterly defeated was she that she began to doubt herself, unable to accept the reality of her loss. Hailed as a peerless prodigy since birth, she had never been bested by any peer. Even seasoned knights of the older generation fell behind her. Her parents swelled with pride; men across the Sradon Kingdom went wild over her, flocking to propose. This bred deep pride within her—she believed herself the center of the world, unbeatable, her magic swordsmanship supreme.

But this time, she lost. Crushed. Undeniably.

Her heart felt lifeless, dark and drained.

Such is human nature: linger too long atop the peak, and failure becomes unbearable. One defeat can shatter a prodigy forever.

"Pick up your sword, Aifei. Fight me again." I tossed her knocked-aside blade back, voice cold.

"Do you intend to humiliate me further?" Aifei looked up, confusion in her eyes, a hint of insecurity in her tone.

"Why do you wield a sword?" I roared. "For hollow honor? Or true faith? If it’s faith—*pick it up!* Stop moping. A knight does not know despair!"

In my eyes, she needed a mentor. And who better than someone who’d lived countless years? Especially a talent I favored.

"I wield it for faith. Yes—*faith!*" Aifei stood abruptly, childhood memories flashing: her awe for knighthood, her vow to protect the kingdom. That pure purpose had faded beneath endless praise and flattery. She’d nearly forgotten why she drew her sword.

"Thank you. I understand. I’ll fight until my last breath." She gripped her sword, smiling genuinely.

"Come then. Show me a splendid fight, Captain Aifei." I pointed my small sword calmly.

"Understood." She attacked. I parried evenly.

*Clang!*

Seconds later, her sword clattered to the ground.

"Again!" She snatched it up, charged.

*Clang!!*

Same result. She rose without pause.

Dozens of times this repeated. Prince Aide and the guards watched, eyes squeezed shut—not in protest, but understanding. They knew she lacked failure. They knew I was tempering her spirit.

"I can’t go on… yet why do I feel so happy?" Exhausted, sweat-drenched, Aifei lay on the floor, a sincere smile on her face.

"Natural," I said. "You’ve never fought a battle this grueling. Your past fights were too easy."

"You’re right," she chuckled wryly. "Stagnant for years… how ironic."

"If you accept the mission, I’ll leave. Consider the other matter carefully—becoming my sword attendant is no small honor." I turned toward the palace gates. I’ve never forced what others refuse.

"Wait!" Aifei’s voice rang out. "I accept—but on one condition."

"Speak." I turned, calm-faced.

(Truth be told, I was quietly pleased. A sword attendant does boost one’s prestige.)

"I want you as my master," Aifei declared, resolve burning in her eyes. "Guide my swordsmanship. If you agree… I will become your sword attendant."