Chapter 1183: A hand and A cheek

Valeria’s glare travelled from Lucavion’s face to the hand still resting against her cheek, and although every sensible instinct suggested that he release her before the situation deteriorated, his fingers lingered long enough to register an unexpected softness beneath them.

It was strange. Valeria trained with the discipline of someone who regarded a missed morning as a personal failure; the evidence lay across her entire figure, from the strength held within her shoulders to the controlled balance of her legs and the way every movement began from a posture prepared to produce force.

Even while walking, she carried the compact readiness of a knight who might be required to draw her sword before completing the next step. Her cheek, however, had apparently received an exemption from House Olarion’s training principles. It yielded warmly between his fingers, soft enough that Lucavion found himself wondering how something so poorly defended had survived this close to the rest of her.

"You!"

The shout restored movement to both of them. Valeria’s hand snapped toward his wrist, her fingers closing with enough force to punish the offense properly, but Lucavion had already released her and shifted beyond reach.

He retreated another step when she followed, then lifted his index finger and moved it from side to side with the patient disapproval of an instructor correcting a student who had ignored a lesson given only moments earlier. "A-a-a-a... You need to be faster."

"Come here."

The command would have carried more authority if colour had not begun spreading across her cheeks. It deepened as she advanced, gathering beneath her eyes before reaching the ears half-concealed by her rose-pink hair, while the severe line of her mouth fought a losing battle against the embarrassment underneath it.

Anger sharpened her steps and fixed her violet eyes upon him, yet every attempt to appear threatening only gave Lucavion another detail to enjoy. He continued backward at an easy pace, keeping just enough distance between them to promise that she might catch him if she tried a little harder, which ensured that Valeria did precisely that.

Ah, this is where it was.

During his life on Earth, people had created a word for women who treated tenderness as a tactical weakness and embarrassment as sufficient grounds for violence. The term had eventually been stretched beyond recognition, attached to anyone capable of raising her voice while secretly caring about another person, but Valeria could have restored standards to the classification through existence alone.

She possessed the necessary pride, the temper, the rigid refusal to admit what her face had already revealed, and, most importantly, the absolute conviction that the person responsible for discovering her softer side ought to suffer for the discovery.

The tsundere had arrived.

Lucavion had missed this more than he should have. He had missed the way Valeria’s emotions escaped in the smallest places while the rest of her struggled to preserve discipline, and how her attempts to hide them only gave those betrayals greater value. Nothing about her happened carelessly. Her smiles had to slip past years of restraint; her concern appeared beneath criticism; and when affection placed her dignity in danger, she responded with the directness of a knight facing an enemy formation. She did not retreat into silence or bury the matter beneath a dozen carefully arranged explanations. She ordered the offender to come closer so she could hit him.

Elara possessed a distant relation to the same quality. She could become flustered, sharpen her voice and retreat behind formality whenever Lucavion noticed something she preferred to keep concealed. The resemblance survived only from a safe distance. Elara would gather her thoughts, reconstruct the offense and present an argument proving that Lucavion had violated manners, reason and possibly the continued stability of civilized society. Valeria had already skipped the hearing, delivered the verdict and begun pursuing the criminal through the residential court.

A purer expression of the art.

The thought pleased him enough that his grin widened, which only darkened Valeria’s expression as she quickened her pace. Lucavion allowed her to close part of the distance before gliding back once more, his case swinging lightly from one hand while Vitaliara watched the chase from his shoulder with the solemn attention of an ancient creature witnessing two younger beings abandon whatever dignity they possessed.

’That... Was probably a bit rude.’

The comparison remained amusing for another moment before Lucavion reconsidered it.

Elara and Valeria were too different for either to fit cleanly inside the same category. Elara guarded herself through questions, prepared arguments and an almost scholarly determination to uncover whatever another person wished to conceal. Valeria met the world more directly. She trusted what endured contact, whether that meant a principle surviving opposition or a swordsman remaining on his feet after facing her blade. Placing them beside one another because both could become flustered was much like comparing a formation plate to a longsword because either could ruin a man’s day.

Entertaining, perhaps.

Still unfair.

Lucavion glanced at Valeria as she pursued him, her reddened cheeks and gathering irritation making it clear that reflection had done nothing to improve his circumstances. He had already stolen his victory. Allowing her a smaller one seemed reasonable.

*THUD! *

Then he suddenly stopped.

Valeria had been advancing under the assumption that he would continue retreating, and the sudden disappearance of the space between them caught her halfway through a step. Her eyes widened as her forward foot landed closer than intended, carrying the rest of her body toward his chest.

Another girl might have fallen into him. Momentum would have decided the matter, leaving Lucavion to catch her while the surrounding students discovered an urgent interest in watching.

Valeria’s body had been trained too thoroughly for that.

Her rear foot cut outward before her balance could collapse, widening her base as her hips turned. Rather than crashing into him, she redirected the forward motion across his side, one shoulder passing close enough to brush the loose fabric of his sleeve. The movement belonged more naturally to a battlefield than a residential path: receive an unexpected obstruction, move around its centre and recover where its guard offered the least resistance.

Lucavion watched her regain control and prepared for the retaliation that should have followed. The Valeria he first met would have driven an elbow into his ribs, caught his wrist or planted a boot behind his ankle before informing him that provoking a knight carried consequences.

Her hand rose.

Two fingers caught his cheek.

Lucavion blinked as Valeria pulled it gently to the side, returning his earlier offense with such careful precision that the touch carried more embarrassment than force.

"There," she said. "Now we are even."

The words came out firmly. The colour climbing toward her ears did not cooperate with them.

For a moment, Valeria remained close enough that Lucavion could see the uncertainty beneath her satisfaction. Striking him would have been easy. She had done that before, and would certainly do it again. This smaller act had demanded something else from her: the courage to answer playfulness with playfulness, knowing he would understand exactly what it meant.

Lucavion’s mouth curved beneath her fingers.

Valeria released him at once.

She turned before he could comment, her rose-pink braid sweeping across her back as she resumed walking with considerably more speed than the path required. "My residence is in the other direction."

Lucavion looked after her. "You followed me this far."

"I was...." she stopped, clearly unable to answer. Then the formulated reply arrive. "J-just checking things."

"Of course."

Her pace increased.

Vitaliara’s tail flicked against his neck as both of them watched Valeria disappear around the next junction.

[She is fleeing.]

Lucavion rubbed the cheek she had pulled, his smile lingering as he started toward his own residence.

’A tactical withdrawal.’

[She learned it from you.]

That accusation was difficult to dismiss.

Lucavion adjusted the case in his hand and continued walking. ’Then I would say she is improving.’

******

The projected marker led Lucavion into an upper corridor overlooking one of the outer practice yards. Traction grooves crossed the floor beneath his boots, every door stood within a reinforced frame, and preservation sigils had been placed at regular intervals for students returning with damaged weapons or unstable enchantments. Somewhere beyond the opposite wall, metal struck metal in a short succession of impacts, followed by an instructor’s voice correcting someone whose defence had apparently disappointed him.

Lucavion stopped before his assigned room and pressed his Academy card against the access plate. A blue line travelled across its surface before the internal wards recognized his mana.

[Identity confirmed.]

[Lucavion — Martial Arts Block.]

[Residential access established.]

The lock opened with a heavy click. Dormant runes brightened along the walls as he entered, drawing apart the curtains and circulating clean air through the room.

The accommodation lacked the ceremonial luxury of the examination residence. No elaborate receiving chamber waited beyond the door, the furniture had been designed to survive impact rather than impress guests, and the bathing room did not contain enough marble to insult three villages.

It suited him considerably better.

A broad section of the floor had been left open for stretching and basic movement practice, with enough distance between the bed and the nearest wall to complete a full lunge without driving an estoc through the furniture. A preservation-rune rack occupied one side of the room, its supports adjusting when Lucavion placed his weapon against them, while a compact recovery formation beside the bed offered heat, cooling and low-grade muscular restoration.

The broad window overlooked the western grounds through reinforced glass and opened onto an exterior ledge intended for maintenance.

Vitaliara left his shoulder immediately.

White fur crossed the room in a blur before she landed upon the ledge, turned once to test its width and surveyed the court below with the grave attention of a creature inspecting newly acquired territory. Once satisfied with the view, she returned inside and continued through the room according to priorities known only to herself. She looked beneath the bed, tested the mattress with one paw and pressed another against the recovery formation before pronouncing judgment.

[Smaller. Less silk. The bathing chamber does not glow.]

Lucavion opened the wardrobe and found enough room for his uniform, training clothes and the little else he owned. "I will inform the Academy that its failure to illuminate the bath has caused grave offence."

[They showed every cub silk, then waited to see which ones earned the right to keep it.]

"The Academy never said the silk belonged to them."

Vitaliara’s pale eyes narrowed.

[You sound impressed.]

"Only by the wording."

The examination residences had shown the freshmen what the Academy could provide when it wished to overwhelm its new arrivals. The protected commoner residence had served another purpose as well, surrounding five politically vulnerable students with advanced wards and recovery infrastructure while keeping them within convenient reach.

This room offered less spectacle, but nearly everything inside it supported martial training. The contrast denied no one basic accommodation. It taught the freshmen which conveniences accompanied standing, and how much remained available to those who climbed higher.

A simple arrangement.

Quite effective, too.

Vitaliara activated the recovery formation beneath her paw. Golden warmth spread across the mattress, producing a faint hum before she withdrew.

[Weak.]

"It was designed for bruised freshmen, not ancient creatures searching for reasons to complain."

[Then it should not invite the judgment of ancient creatures.]

She stepped onto the bed, circled once and abandoned it in favour of the window ledge. Sunlight reached across the stone there, and Vitaliara settled within it as though the architect had included the ledge solely for her comfort.

Lucavion unpacked his case before activating the schedule projection above the desk. Pale lines expanded into a campus map, gathering most of his Martial lectures, training periods and residential facilities within the western grounds. His sponsored magical courses required longer routes toward the central and Magicians’ sectors, while several places that had seemed near during the examination period now lay beyond multiple courtyards and transit lines.

The five commoner entrants had lived behind adjoining doors because the Academy had chosen proximity for them. From this point onward, meeting one another would require intention, coordination or chance.

The same would be true of everyone else.

Below the window, someone entered the nearest practice yard carrying a spear. Another student drew a sword, and the monitoring formation brightened around them.

CLANG!

The first collision travelled up the stone walls and through the open window. It was followed by the rhythm of shifting feet, another impact and a shouted correction from an adjoining court.

Vitaliara opened one eye but did not abandon the ledge she had claimed.

Lucavion dismissed the campus map until only Wednesday’s route remained above the desk. Around his newly assigned room, the sounds of the Martial Court continued without waiting for him to settle.

The Academy had given him a permanent place.

A different daily life had already begun forming around it.