Chapter 23 : Wishbone Ash (2)

Chapter 23

Wishbone Ash

“Where are we… going?”

Rafinya followed along until she realized they were about to leave the academy grounds. She gathered her courage and finally asked.

“Nora and I are practicing at Anfield.”

The reason for not doing it on campus… went without saying.

Rafinya swallowed hard, lowered her gaze, and kept walking.

“When we’re done, we’ll just bury you there.”

“!”

“Relax. I’m kidding. Not funny?”

“…”

“What, how is that not funny? I joke like this with Nora all the time.”

“…Save it for Nora.”

“I think breaking your arm might really have been too much. If it scared you, then… sorry.”

“I don’t want it!”

Rafinya stopped abruptly and shouted. Dan turned around. She stared at him, fear etched across her face, lips trembling as her feet stepped backward.

“I don’t… need…”

She bit down hard enough to show her fangs, fists clenched, breath coming fast.

“…anyone’s pity.”

“Ah…”

Dan raised an eyebrow.

“I get it. Being pitied makes you feel weak, huh.”

He exhaled.

“Pretty sad, honestly.”

“!”

He walked on.

“Don’t pity me!”

“I’m starting to understand now,”

Dan said as he continued walking.

“The reason you always walk away immediately after beating someone—because you don’t want to show them pity, right?”

That was the ugly truth gnawing at her.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course not. Where I come from, there’s no such thing as pity. Honestly, you should’ve been born a Diablo more than I should have.”

They passed beyond the academy gates. Anfield lay far ahead.

“I don’t know what Lady Casca said to you… but I don’t want anyone’s sympathy.”

“I used to think like that too.”

Dan stopped and turned to her.

“But in real life, you can’t survive alone.”

“Yes, you can! If you’re truly strong, you can! Only weak people tell themselves that lie to feel better!”

“Then you must be stronger than me. I can’t do it. I can’t even sit at peace talks—I have to let my siblings handle that. I suppose you can do everything, then? Draft proposals, plan negotiations, lobby politicians, trade minerals?”

“!”

“Unless your idea of ‘strength’ is just brute force. If that’s all you’ve got, then go be Iskaryx. Go be Leviathan. Drop the Saint Pauli name and live in the forest.”

“What did you say…?”

“You’ve chained yourself to an illusion. The tighter you bind yourself, the more it hurts. Someone once told me that… a long time ago.”

Dan glanced at her.

“But whatever. You wouldn’t listen anyway. To you, I’m still just an evil demon.”

Princess Nora Ophilis was seated, weaving water magic drawn from the nearby river, streams circling her body. She opened her eyes just in time to see Dan return—with Rafinya trailing behind, head lowered.

Huh.

“Mr.Fury, was it really necessary to drag her all the way out here?”

“Of course it was. If we don’t practice properly, it won’t look natural. Professor McClaff will catch on.”

He shrugged.

“By the way, aren’t you practicing with your own partner?”

“I’m fighting seriously today, Mr.Fury.”

“…That guy’s unlucky.”

“I’m unluckier. If you hadn’t been traded, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The words were aimed squarely at Rafinya—and she knew it.

Dan looked at Nora and shook his head slightly. Not to stop her, but because Casca had explicitly told him not to act like this. He had to be a model for Nora.

{Nora’s copying you, Fury… please, be a good example for her.}

“Let’s just get this over with. Bear with it. Once we’re second-years, we won’t see each other anymore.”

Dan said as he opened the spellbook.

“Follow the steps we agreed on.”

He pointed.

“Come with me.”

Nora watched as he and Rafinya walked deeper into Anfield without another word.

The practice session was stiff and uncomfortable, but they pushed through it together.

Rafinya stayed silent the entire time. She looked hollow—casting weak spells, moving without life.

Dan could only sigh.

She’s still stuck in yesterday…

During the break, the forest’s silence stretched between them, amplifying the tension.

Rafinya rested against a moss-covered rock, breathing heavily, staring at her hands—

—and the image flashed back: her arm being snapped effortlessly by a Diablo-level entity, like breaking a twig, with no chance to resist.

The more she thought about it, the more it hurt.

If she were twelve again, she would’ve run off to cry alone.

Then—

A shadow fell over her.

She looked up.

Dan held out his sandwich.

“Take it.”

“Not hungry…”

Grrrk.

Her stomach betrayed her—loud, perfectly timed.

“Say that again.”

“I said I don’t want it.”

“You haven’t eaten since last night, have you?”

Rafinya clicked her tongue and snatched it.

Dan watched her unwrap it, sighing.

He didn’t show it, but internally he was shaking his head hard—this is impossible.

If it weren’t for Casca…

As Rafinya opened her mouth to bite, she paused, noticing his gaze.

“No poison. Just eat.”

“Are you being nice to win favor?”

“My wife told me to.”

Rafinya rolled her eyes.

“Personally, I think breaking your arm was justified. What went too far was destroying your sword.”

Dan said quietly.

“I’ve known enough Luminus knights to understand how important a bonded blade is to them.”

And for Rafinya, watching her beloved sword shattered like that… it must’ve felt like losing someone precious.

She clenched her teeth.

Her dull eyes dropped to the food in her hand, and she bit into it—without a choice.

Dan sighed softly. Thinking she didn’t want to talk, he turned away and began reviewing geometric formulas for magic circles.

Then Rafinya spoke.

“A sword only matters to a point.”

He turned back. She was holding the shattered hilt fragment.

“If you’re truly skilled, even rebar can be used to fight.”

“You don’t have a personal blade?”

“A personal blade just fits better.”

She added,

“Lady Casca doesn’t even have one.”

Besides, Rafinya owned hundreds of swords. She was a noble—affording them was trivial.

“It doesn’t matter… in the end, I still couldn’t do anything.”

Whether she was laughing at Fury or at her own pitiful self, it was unclear.

But the fact that this girl’s power could pierce Fury’s armor could not be ignored.

If word reached the Demon Isles…

Fiorentina would definitely have her eliminated…

“If everything I believed is wrong… then what is written in history?”

Rafinya looked at him.

“…If demons aren’t evil, then what was the Velmount massacre?”

The question made Dan stop mid-line.

He lowered the book, eyes fixed ahead.

“My failure.”

“Failure?”

“You know… you remind me of someone.”

“…Who?”

Dan’s lips curved into a faint smile as he turned back.

“Harry.”

Sir Harry Kane of Velmount.