Do you think Rhode would master "Breathing" in a snap? Don’t be naive, kid.

Rhode didn’t pick it up quickly at all. Even after hours of effort, the concept remained a total fog.

In the end, he had no choice but to slink home, utterly defeated.

"I have to say—you really lack talent," Black Sword finally jabbed.

An utterly ordinary boy. Even with opportunity, he stayed painfully average.

Still, Black Sword kinda liked the kid’s personality.

Most importantly? The kid had praised him before.

Major plus. Highlight that.

"Uh…" Rhode couldn’t argue. He felt painfully ordinary too.

Yeah, becoming a novel protagonist who learns everything effortlessly? Way too much to ask.

Suddenly, Rhode realized Shilo’s swordsmanship talent was genuinely protagonist-tier.

His much older sister—the one called "Red Wolf"—taught him only advanced techniques.

Yet Shilo absorbed every single one. Now, even a full-grown swordsman might not beat him.

Rhode sighed deeply, then habitually scaled the wall home.

After obstacle-running drills, he’d grown to dislike ordinary paths.

No wonder wandering knights leap through trees instead of walking roads.

A professional quirk. Incurable.

Back home, Rhode found Shilo wasn’t practicing swordsmanship.

He should’ve still been training with "Red Wolf" Felisha.

After a pause, he found his mother mending clothes. "Mother, where’s Shilo?"

Rhode always knew where to find her—effortless.

Hearing his voice, she set down her needlework and looked up.

"Rhode, you’re back," she smiled warmly.

"Where’s Shilo?" Rhode asked, hoping to play.

"Shilo went to the Imperial Capital with your father."

Not just Shilo and Doraf—Felisha, his instructor, went too.

Rhode hadn’t heard a word beforehand.

"The Imperial Capital?"

"Mm. Sudden, yes—but an invitation from His Highness the Crown Prince. Your father couldn’t refuse," she said helplessly, hand resting on her cheek.

Even she wasn’t clear on why Shilo and Doraf were invited.

Only certainty: the Crown Prince and Church of Lightsen Gate jointly issued it.

"Alright, I won’t disturb you, Mother," Rhode shrugged, turning to leave.

Guess he wouldn’t play with Shilo for a while.

Good. Time to focus fully on that so-called "Breathing" training.

"Wait, Rhode." His mother stopped him.

"What is it, Mother?" He turned back, confused.

"Leona will stay with us awhile. Please be mindful," she urged, pressing a finger to her lips.

If anyone needed watching? Rhode.

Fifteen, one year from adulthood—but zero maturity. Zero older-brother energy.

Shilo acted more like the responsible elder. Everything felt upside down.

"Oh… huh?" Rhode mumbled absently—then his eyes nearly popped.

"Princess Leona… staying here? Why?" he blurted.

Vaguely, he recalled her mentioning it… and him agreeing.

"No reason. Isn’t it nice?" she evaded gently.

Clearly, Doraf aimed to play matchmaker between Shilo and Leona.

Many nobles once eyed the young princess—

Ah, not *that* way. Her status.

But after the "Ironfist Princess" incident, most backed off.

Doraf seized the chance, casually cozying up to Leona.

Leona surely knew. Rhode didn’t think her naive.

"The schemes of the powerful are… bold," Rhode muttered.

His mother shot him a silencing glare. "Don’t speak treason."

"Mm-hmm," Rhode nodded dismissively.

Even if she stayed, he wouldn’t seek her out.

He liked romance novels—but life wouldn’t magically become one.

Such mature thinking. Truly, only he.

Rhode flicked his bangs with a smirk.

Even considered flipping his dagger to pin it dramatically to the wall.

"Has no one told you how ridiculous you look?" Leona’s voice cut in from behind.

"…" His self-satisfied moment shattered. Smile froze solid.

"I didn’t expect your brother to be invited to the Imperial Capital by mine," Leona said.

"Y-yes."

"I meant to spar with him. But you’ll do."

"I really don’t think so."

"I don’t care what *you* think. I care what *I* think."

"Are all royals this… uncivilized?" Rhode grumbled.

"It’s a privilege," Leona declared, chin high like a proud swan.

Stating that without shame? Leona was something else.

"This time, a different combat style," she announced.

"Hand-to-hand." Her eager grin sent a chill down Rhode’s spine.

"Aren’t you a swordswoman?" Rhode recalled her specialty.

"Sometimes, a change of pace is refreshing," Leona said, flushed with excitement.

Rhode knew her thrill came from elsewhere entirely.

---

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You know, when a swordsman says they’re fighting barehanded? Truly terrifying. Believe me. —*Anonymous Records*