"Victoria, get up! Time for sword practice."

The next morning, Lilia yanked me from bed after my all-nighter. Tucking me under her arm like a pillow, she charged straight for the training ground. Thankfully, Juliana was on duty. Panicked, she blocked Lilia’s abduction attempt. With two junior maids’ help, she swiftly bundled me into warm layers before handing me back.

Now dressed in flexible cotton trousers and coat, my hands sheathed in thick leather gloves, I still couldn’t fully fend off Casworth’s biting cold. Snow blanketed the land half the year—agriculture lagged, population growth crawled.

On the training ground, knights drilled: tall, muscular, pure northern beefcakes. Most wore beards—thick facial hair shielded faces from frost, vital for battlefield knights. Except Kuro, newly knighted. He’d tried growing one too, but only a patch of brown fuzz sprouted, making him look like a moldy cat.

"Victoria, ten laps first!"

"Yes, Deputy Commander Lilia."

"Call me *big sister*!"

"Yes, big sister!"

Lilia was strict during training. Since conditioning strengthened my body, I didn’t resist—almost welcomed it. If only I could’ve slept longer! Though my puppet pulled the all-nighters and my body slept twelve hours daily, mental fatigue clung stubbornly. Hence my usual lifeless aura.

Wind whipped loose snow across the field. Sword dummies swayed gently. Bare-chested knights jogged in formation, chants echoing off stone walls as if Casworth’s cold meant nothing. The squires trailing them—boys aged twelve to fourteen—looked far frailer. They trained hard for a chance to become knights.

Unlike the Empire’s nobility-obsessed regions, House of Northenberg recruited knights mostly from commoners. Nobles advanced faster, yes—but commoners *could* rise. Unthinkable elsewhere. That’s why the "White Wolf Guard" ranked top-tier in skill and strength across the Empire.

Now, its elite formed the new "Iron Knight Order," equipped with cutting-edge "Steel Rider" Arcane Golems. Seizing the reorganization chance, I copied Freud’s military structure from my past life, building a self-sufficient logistics system. Once again—Freud was a war genius.

After two laps, my pace dragged. Huffing like a piglet, I watched lapped knights stride past with gentle glances. They trained fiercely, dreaming of piloting Arcane Golems. The "Iron Guard" I designed? Made for them.

"Victoria, keep going—!"

Lilia sprinted past—*again*. She’d lapped me four times, the beefcake knights twice. Why did she never run out of energy? Totally clashed with the "female knight = ornament" national stereotype. Female knights usually guarded palace zones men couldn’t enter, prioritizing looks over combat.

This was pure cosplay!

"Hey, young lady!" Knight Captain Zord waved. "Hang in there!"

Too breathless to speak, I just nodded.

"Oh right!" He slowed beside me. "Eat more meat! Build muscle! Rumor says bigger pecs mean bigger cup size!"

*Thwack!* Lilia’s flying kick sent him face-first into the dirt.

"Hmph." Lilia crossed her arms. "Breasts and pecs aren’t the same."

"Yes, sir!" Zord mumbled into the snow. "Not the same!"

As Imperial Princess, Lilia left Zord too intimidated to retort. Then—*perfect timing*—Kuro arrived.

"Sir! New recruits are here! You… uh… why are you on the ground?"

"Idiot!" Zord pushed up. "Blind? I’m doing push-ups!"

*Hah.* Saving face mattered.

"Victoria, rest a moment," Lilia slowed beside me. "Great job—you ran faster and farther than yesterday."

Relief. I halted, gasping. Bare-chested knights lapped me again. Watching sweat-glistened muscles, envy flickered. Past life: paralyzed homebody. This life: frail, outdoor-averse.

Every time I saw Lilia’s vitality, jealousy whispered.

*If only I could be like that…*

Footsteps clattered. Boys marched through the archway, lining up near the old warehouse I used as workshop and lab, facing the garden. (Training ground and garden separated only by an iron fence. Duke of Northenberg rejected southern nobles’ gaudy castles—this fortress stayed military-ready. Flatten the flowers? Instant barracks.)

Vostok’s harsh climate forged resilient locals. These boys were likely handpicked. Pass the test? Become squires, even knight apprentices. Top scorers earned an honorary "knightly title"—non-hereditary, no land, but *nobility*. For commoners? A total turnaround. No—a carp leaping over the dragon gate!

I watched beside Lilia as Knight Captain Zord took charge.

"Listen up, little chicks!" He hoisted a blunted practice sword. "Block three strikes—pass. Fail? Go home and drink milk! Who’s first?"

The boys flinched.

"I’ll go!"

A figure stepped forward from the anxious crowd: Brother John. Tattered leather coat, simple bundle on shoulder. *Wait—Brother John?!* I gripped Lilia’s arm. Yes—taller than two years ago, a hint of muscle. But beside Zord (arms thicker than my waist)? A tiny chick.

Power gap immense. And he rushed in too fast.

*If it were me?* Stay back. Observe. Plan. No need to be the first bird. Patience was the way.

"Good, little chick," Zord grinned. "Demo time. Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"What? Speak up!"

"YES, SIR—!"

"Perfect spirit. Begin!"

*CLANG!* Steel clashed. Sparks flew. Snow scattered from the impact. Brother John staggered back three steps, sword trembling in his grip.

"Solid basics. Mercenary-trained?"

"Yes, sir. Jack."

"Southerner name. But your body’s too weak!"

The second strike hit harder. Brother John nearly flew back. His rag-wrapped palm bled—too poor for gloves, palms surely split. Stamina fading, he swayed like a wind-tossed leaf.

"I can… continue!" he gritted. "Please—keep testing!"

Admirable. Futile. He wouldn’t survive the third strike.

"Kid, fundamentals good—but stamina failed you," Zord slung the sword over his shoulder. "Too weak for a squire. Yet you held the second hit… hiding an ace?"

His words jolted me. *Something felt off during those clashes.* Wait—Observer sync! Scanning from above…

Magic power! Pouring from his left eye.

Human magic flows through internal circuits—leaking only during spellcasting. Leakage from the eye? Only one cause: a Demon Eye!

No wonder he resisted Elizabeth’s Beguiling Eye. He *was* a bearer—just unawakened back then.

But this duel… became the catalyst.

The Demon Eye had awakened.