People often worry life might grow tediously dull someday.

But Rhode, barely ten, hadn’t yet gathered such cares.

For him, a single book in hand was enough to carry the day. *Praise books! Books are the world!*

He and his twin brother Shilo shared endless topics—boredom rarely touched them.

No wonder they were twins. Felt like real telepathy.

“Shilo, did you know? This book’s author is only eighteen,” Rhode said, waving the book slightly with an air of profound mystery.

“What’s special about eighteen?” Shilo asked, a trace of confusion in his voice. Eighteen-year-old authors were rare, sure—but not unheard of.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. It’s a bestseller,” Rhode wagged a finger. “Achieving this at eighteen? Born storytellers!”

Rhode clearly revered masterful narrators.

“Oh, of course—something *you’d* like,” Shilo replied flatly.

He acknowledged the talent, but books weren’t his passion. Not dislike—just nowhere near Rhode’s fervor.

He preferred the solid weight of a sword in his palm.

Still, differing interests never strained their bond.

“Books are oceans of knowledge. Many publish manuals detailing their martial schools.”

“And secret manuals *are* books too,” Rhode added.

“Hmm… you’re right,” Shilo conceded. The logic held.

“Exactly! Books are wonderful!” Rhode insisted.

“Alright, alright. Books are wonderful,” Shilo muttered, utterly at a loss.

“Next, I’ll recommend a book to you—” Rhode began with solemn gravity—

“You there! Who is Hilo Carasco?!”

A golden-haired little girl leaped out, blocking their path mid-conversation.

Rhode and Shilo tilted their heads slightly in unison, twin eyes fixed on her with identical bewilderment.

*Who’s this brat?*

“I am. And you are?” Shilo stepped forward, frowning slightly.

“I am Leona Carasco! I’ve come to challenge Shilo!” the girl declared, chin lifted with swan-like pride.

“Huh? *Carasco* again? I’ve heard this surname all day,” Rhode pursed his lips in mild disgust.

Wasn’t it supposed to be a noble name? Why did *everyone* share it? Him, Shilo, even folks in the next city over…

“Rhode, don’t speak lightly of the imperial surname,” Shilo whispered urgently.

“Relax. Just harmless complaining,” Rhode waved dismissively.

They were Carascos too. Those who knew, knew.

“Good. So *you’re* Shilo, right?” the proud girl interjected.

Shilo blinked once. “Yes.”

*Why ask twice? I’ve answered twice already.*

“Duel me! Let’s see who’s *truly* the Empire’s sword prodigy!” Leona drew her blade, pointing it squarely at Shilo.

“‘A duel?’” the twins echoed together.

*Is this some new Empire kid game? Ugh. So childish.*

“Yes—a duel!” Leona affirmed. “And stop speaking at once! I can’t tell you apart!”

Rhode glanced at the earnest girl. An idea sparked.

“Fine! A duel!” he abruptly accepted for Shilo.

Both Shilo and Leona froze in confusion.

“But I’m not dueling *you*,” Leona protested.

“I know,” Rhode said enigmatically. He snapped a branch from a bush and drew a circle on the ground.

(He adored romance novel tropes. Second favorite? This exact showdown setup.)

“Rhode… what are you *doing*?” Shilo’s voice tightened.

“Drawing a circle,” Rhode replied deadpan.

“Hey—you. Swap your real sword,” he pointed at Leona.

“Huh?”

“Keep it fair. No live blades. Shilo isn’t allowed to carry one anyway.”

“Uh… um… alright,” Leona murmured, oddly compliant. She quietly sheathed her custom-made junior sword—tailored for her ten-year-old frame. Using it *would* be unfair.

Rhode climbed a tree, chin propped in hand, gazing down at the two figures within the circle.

No retreat now.

“The moment this branch hits the ground—the duel begins. Clear?”

“No problem!” the girl chirped, energy blazing.

“Uh… sure…” Shilo muttered, utterly bewildered.

Somehow, the uninterested Shilo had accepted. The little girl cooperated perfectly. Rhode was pleased.

Well, she *had* introduced herself. Anyone bearing the Carasco name likely held imperial status.

But did it matter?

The tsundere girl radiated confidence; Shilo opposite remained utterly expressionless.

“Good. Then—prepare.”

Rhode released the branch. It fell straight down.

To Rhode, it was just a game.