Chapter 275: Effortless Win

In a private training chamber by the West Wing of the main building, I adopted a stance with my blade held firm as Carine. I steadied my breath as I slowly analyzed the opponent before me.

She had short blonde hair and held her spear in a rather trembling manner. But I knew better than to underestimate any of my opponents, so I fixed my gaze at her, ready to anticipate any move she might make the moment our match started.

The official raised his hand. I sharpened my eyes on her once more. But before he could drop it, she yelped, snapped upright, and threw out a panicked bow.

“I-I’m sorry! I forfeit!!”

I clicked my tongue silently.

Oh, come on! That’s the third time this week!

—

A week had passed since my first matches. Throughout it all, I had a total of ten matches across both of my bodies, five for Carine, five for Feyt.

Out of those ten, two resulted in victory by default because my opponents decided to waste everyone’s time by not showing up. Another three were won by proper forfeiture right on the mat… all of which, for some reason, belonged to Carine.

In total, I only fought five genuine matches this week. Four as Feyt, and exactly one as Carine.

Yeah, you heard that right. Four out of Carine’s five opponents this week refused to clash blades with me. And the one guy who was diligent enough to start the match? The fight ended before I could even blink.

“Haaaa…” I let out a long, tired sigh as Carine, my fingers lightly tapping my desk.

Beside me, Eve smoothly looked up from her book. “Is something troubling you, Lady Carine?”

“Is it about your matches?” Lionne chimed in instantly, leaning slightly with her eyes sparkling. “Don't tell me… did another one forfeit?”

I gave a slow, defeated nod. “Yes. Right before the match started too.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic news then!” Lionne beamed, clapping her hands together. “Another effortless win for Lady Carine!”

I turned my head and just… stared at her, my mouth ever so slightly agape.

How in the world is that great news?

Lionne’s smile instantly froze. Color drained from her face, and her energetic smile evaporated in a split second.

“I-I mean—That's terrible!” she stuttered, waving her hands in front of her face in a sudden panic. “Cruel, even! How dare they rob you of a proper duel! They are absolute cowards, I must say!”

With her apology, I slowly turned my head back to the front of the room as the instructor finally entered the room to begin the lecture.

I thought this morning’s match might give me enough leftover excitement to help me get through another hour of boredom. But now, I just wanted to sleep.

I woke up early for nothing… again.

Throughout the week, I had ordered Leila to wake me up earlier than usual so I could help prepare my lunchboxes.

At first, I thought she might fervently refuse or simply leave me to sleep in like usual. But to my surprise, she actually complied and woke me up right on time every single day.

It was still a massive effort to crawl out of bed that early, even with Leila’s assistance, but there was a quiet sense of accomplishment in eating my own perfectly cooked eggs across both bodies that I couldn’t quite describe.

So, I wanted to at least keep this habit up throughout the preliminary matches.

Who knows? Maybe I could even use it as a way to finally cure Carine’s heavy-sleeper syndrome. Though, sensing how I wanted to snore right on my desk at the moment, that might take a while.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I let out another sigh as I rested my chin in my hand, staring blankly at the board. Deep frustration was simmering inside me.

I was itching to fight. And I do mean I be itching for it.

Ever since that match with Myura, or rather, ever since I learned how to draw lines with my eyes, I had been dying to test it out again in a proper combat scenario, especially when Feyt’s not sleeping like a log and fully active.

But thanks to four out of my five opponents practically surrendering, some on sight, some flaking out, I began trying to draw lines outside of combat as well.

Right now, as the instructor gestured with his chalk, I traced a sharp line from his elbow to the board, taking note of how shaky his hands were when writing.

Earlier in the hallway, I tried tracing lines on a passing student’s stride, calculating exactly where his steps would land. When a bird flew past the window, I tried to draw a line from its beak to where it was heading, the open window by the third floor.

It was absolute torture. I found a truly game-changing technique, and here I was, using it to predict an instructor’s writing.

And as for Myura? A few days ago, I tried to reach out to her. I asked Kyro to speak to her, seeing they were classmates, pass along my sincere apologies, and extend an open invitation for a friendly rematch whenever she felt up to it. Heck, maybe even soon.

Kyro’s response?

“She booked it the moment I said you wanted a spar…”

I sighed again, letting my head sink a little lower against my palm.

Not only were most of my opponents no-shows, but the only person I had managed to use this new technique on now wanted nothing to do with me.

Is this a curse?

Am I not allowed to have fun, dear world?

At the very least, Feyt got some action on his end.

Speaking of which—

—

I rolled my shoulders, taking a deep breath as I stretched my arms as Feyt inside the quiet practice chamber.

My bag sat neatly against the floor near one of the windows, with an empty lunchbox tucked safely inside.

Man... those were some perfectly seasoned eggs.

Totally not praising myself, by the way. Just stating an objective fact. Sure, Leila helped me with making those eggs, but the seasoning was mostly me…

Again, not praising myself, by the way.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway outside. A moment later, the heavy wooden doors swung open, and the official stepped inside, clipboard in hand.

Finally!

The moment he entered the room fully, he stepped aside to let the one behind him to pass through the doorway, AKA, my opponent.

I watched her walk in, keeping my posture ready. I already knew from the bracket sheet that she was my next match, but seeing her in the flesh was still weird in its own way.

The next opponent for Feyt was none other than Ravilenna.

The same Ravilenna whose “undergarments” I “stole” that day.

However, today… she looked different. Almost unrecognizable, in fact.

She was no longer wearing her signature, luxurious fur-lined jacket. Her hair, which usually had intricate braids and soft curls, had been visibly altered. Some parts had been trimmed shorter, while other sections were pressed completely straight.

I softened my stance a little as she approached the training mat.

“Lady Ravilenna,” I said lightly, offering a small, polite nod. “I’m glad to see you’re doing fine.”

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes locking onto mine with a sharp glare.

“Save your fake pleasantries,” she snapped, her tone cold and devoid of its usual theatrics. “I know you hate me for what I did. I don’t mind. You have every right to.”

My eyes were wide open, not even blinking.

Is this… the same Ravilenna I know?

She continued to walk to the weapons rack and grabbed a pair of swords. After checking the weights of both of them, she made her way back to the training mat.

She turned toward the official, leveling the tip of her secondary blade towards him.

“Can we begin the match now? I wish to finish this match and return to my training as quickly as possible.”

Okay… She’s a different person at this point.

“A-Ah, well... the official start time isn't for another few minutes,” he stammered, clearing his throat. “However, as long as both parties agree to an early start, I don’t see why not.” He turned to me.

“Y-Yeah, sure,” I stuttered out, taken aback.

She’s not warming up, then?

“Good,” Ravilenna said.

She stepped onto her side of the mat, bringing her twin blades into a low angle as she drew in deep breaths and exhaled them slowly in a calm manner.

I expected that she would lash out at me, or at least glare at me with a glare much more intense… But now, she looked more like she was annoyed at me at worst.

But… there was no time for me to wonder about useless things or not. All that I needed to know was that my opponent was here, she was determined, and she was a dual-sword-wielder.

If she was going to face me with that level of determination, the least I could do was to match it.

The official raised his hand, stepping back to the edge of the mat.

“Ready...”

I locked my eyes straight on her. In the classroom, I tuned out the instructor’s droning lecture as Carine, shifting as much of my focus as I could over to Feyt.

Slowly, the ambient noise outside the chamber began to fade. The distant hallway chatter dissolved into nothing, replaced only by the sound of the practice chamber.

I could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. The subtle tension in her muscles. The soft groan of the mat stretching beneath her.

Then, with a swift drop of his hand, the official declared:

“Begin!”

<img style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block" src="https://i.imgur.com/ftefrrv.png" alt="image">