7.
The moment their blades clashed, a torrent of emotions surged between Lancel and Marigold. The mingling of sweat, the exchange of ragged breaths, the intense scrutiny of bloodshot eyes—all these actions forged a profound sense of unity.
Lancel had first learned of this concept, “Bushido,” from his former master during his early childhood, when he was first possessed by this world and before he was trapped in the prison of infinite regression. It was the sense of a bond created through combat.
His master was a devout believer—no, a fanatic—of Bushido.
To give you an idea of his fervor, he would proclaim that true love was born from fighting with the intent to kill the person before you. He was the kind of man who would say, without a hint of humor, that duels were better than sex.
Of course, the public opinion was that Lancel’s master was simply a war-crazy madman who often spouted nonsense.
However, Lancel seemed to understand a little of what that meant today.
“Haa!”
The emotions contained in the hilt of the sword that Marigold threw were a chaotic mass of unresolved wanderings.
The blade’s tip still trembled wildly as it flew erratically through the air. From her grip to her shoulder, from her waist to her knee, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head, every minute tremor remained uncontainable.
It was almost inevitable that Lancel would clearly feel her turmoil.
“If you’ve drawn your sword, don’t hesitate, Mary. Look straight at the person before you.”
Lancel’s stance shifted as he held his wooden sword.
“In this world, there’s only you and me. Just the two of us.”
“……!”
Lancel stood with his wooden sword held upright, his body turned sideways. It was as if the blade concealed his entire form.
Marigold felt as if she were facing not a human, but a living sword.
“That’s…”
The Third Prince’s mouth opened slightly in a daze.
“Ancient Imperial Swordsmanship.”
Lancel’s figure blurred for a moment. Almost simultaneously, an overwhelming shock surged through the Third Prince.
“Ugh!”
The Third Prince hastily covered a hand over his mouth. It was the lingering impact from the two strikes Lancel’s wooden sword had delivered to Marigold.
“Hngh……huh?”
Marigold’s expression turned blank. She had braced for pain, but none came.
“I’m holding back, I’m holding back.”
It was a lie. Lancel struck her with full force.
Of course, Marigold had no way of knowing. At the moment, all the damage she sustained was being absorbed by the Third Prince.
There was no reason for Lancel to hesitate.
Lancel’s wooden sword relentlessly struck Marigold’s weak points. Whether she counterattacked or retreated, Lancel followed her like a shadow.
“What the heck…?”
“What—what’s happening? What’s going on?”
The mercenaries’ faces were filled with confusion.
“Your skills have improved, Young Master.”
“Improved? That’s an understatement…? It’s like he’s a completely different person.”
The guards’ faces twitched with unease.
Objectively speaking, Lancel’s swordsmanship wasn’t all that flashy. It was simply the pinnacle of efficiency and unexpectedly cunning.
“Mary.”
============
—Crisis! The Third Prince’s remaining magical powers have dropped below 50%. Overflow will be forcibly terminated when the magic powers are depleted.
※ Warning! Marigold’s mental and physical stamina have significantly decreased. Her condition has fallen below the baseline.
============
“I’ll end this quickly.”
With each strike of the wooden sword against Mary, the red rings that appeared in her eyes gradually faded.
—Magical powers remaining: 35%
Thud.
“Are you alright?”
The sound of the Third Prince’s body staggering behind them was heard. Hesti rushed to support him.
The Third Prince’s face was drenched in cold sweat.
“How can a human without a single drop of magic… withstand my powers?”
His eyes trembled wildly.
Even though she was just a woman who worked at an inn, Marigold was a more disciplined person than most novice mercenaries.
Moreover, from the moment the high-level spell, overflow, was used, she ceased to be merely human. She had become a monster, a creature akin to a magical beast.
To subdue such a being with pure swordsmanship alone? The Third Prince had never witnessed such a feat before. Not even once.
“Lancel… Dan… te……!”
Feeling his magical powers rapidly draining, the Third Prince slowly collapsed to the floor. He, who had been hailed as a prodigy of magic since birth, was experiencing magic exhaustion for the first time since early childhood.
—Magical powers remaining: 10%
—Magical powers remaining: 9%
—Magical powers remaining: 8%… … 5%.
The moment Lancel swung his sword for the last time, their wooden swords clashed and shattered simultaneously.
Amidst the flying splinters, Marigold’s eyes momentarily lost their color.
Lancel caught her as she collapsed, pulling her into his arms. He could feel her feverish heat, as if she were about to burst into flames.
He met Marigold’s tear-glazed eyes.
“Mary, why did you choose to duel me?”
‘Weren’t we strangers?’ Lancel wanted to ask.
“…Because I want to know.”
Marigold’s exhausted lips parted slowly. Her voice, strained from being pushed to the limit of physical and mental strength, was thin, as if it could be missed at any moment if one did not listen carefully.
“You want to know? What?”
“The person who appears in my dreams… what kind of person… are they?”
‘Dreams?’
Lancel couldn’t ask any more questions. At that moment, Marigold’s eyes closed completely.
But he knew what she meant.
‘Do she carry memories from previous lives?’
‘Even if her memories weren’t complete, it sounded like fragments of memories lingered within her. Otherwise, there was no reason for her to throw herself at a human she’d just met, or to say such things.’
Lancel stared at Marigold’s face. Compared to when he first saw her, her body had grown beyond recognition.
Yet, somehow, she felt so light in his arms.
Lancel felt that she might fall apart at any moment.
* * *
“Keuh-euk!”
The Third Prince shook off Hesti’s support and staggered into an alley. A black clump of blood gurgled from his mouth and splattered onto the floor.
His magic had drained too quickly, leaving him with internal injuries.
“Ha ha ha.”
The Third Prince wiped his lips and let out a hollow laugh.
“A knight who wields the sword of the ancient Empire… father would be pleased were he still alive.”
A complex smile, tinged with a mix of conflicting emotions, lingered on his lips.
8.
Lancel gently laid Marigold down on the bed. At least, he tried to do so.
It proved difficult to pry her off him; she clung to him like a leech, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so exhausted.
Lancel, who was about to forcefully put her down, abruptly changed his mind.
‘If I leave her be, she’ll eventually let go on her own.’
In the end, Lancel climbed onto the bed beside her. The scent of wild grass rose from her sweat-dampened, feverish body.
A nostalgic smell.
Lancel closed his eyes.
He recalled the day he first opened his eyes in this world. A time when he knew nothing, when everything around him felt utterly foreign.
“…….”
After living for two centuries, some memories inevitably faded. But there were others that refused to be forgotten.
‘Princess.’
Closing his eyes only made the memory more vivid: Lancel, at 15-years-old, thrown onto the battlefield without understanding anything.
“You’ll find happiness, Lancel.”
In his memories, Lancel was held in someone’s arms. That person had smelled exactly like this—like wild grass
“Just like you were my happiness.”
The tighter Marigold’s arms wrapped around him, the clearer the memory became.
The scent of that moment.
The cool breeze blowing.
Even the orange-colored hills that bathed in the setting sun of Luoyang.
“Someday, you’ll find it too.”
Lancel couldn’t bring himself to shake Marigold off and remained in her grip like that for a while.
By now, her familiar winged fairy, Pina, must be throwing a fit. After all, some strange man was hugging her mistress.
‘It’s not my fault. Your mistress is the one clinging to me.’
When he tried to pull away slightly, her arms inexplicably tightened around him.
Only when the sun had set did Lancel manage to escape her grasp.
9.
The next day.
“Take this, Marigold. It’s a bronze insignia.”
When Marigold returned to the guild, Lancel handed her a copper badge.
Marigold looked at it with a blank expression, as if she hadn’t expected it.
“Can I, um, can I really take this, Sir?”
“……Just call me Master.”
“Master.”
“I originally didn’t plan to give you one.”
Lancel glanced at the other mercenaries who had received iron insignias and shook his head.
“The average level of these guys is just… pitiful.”
They all averted their gaze.
It was unexpected even for Lancel.
Despite the hasty recruitment, he hadn’t expected the average level of the imperial mercenaries to be so low. There was only one person who received a silver insignia or higher, and even among those who received bronze medals, there were only a handful.
“A bronze insignia…”
Marigold blushed as she gazed at the insignia in her hand.
“Excuse me, um, when can I start taking on missions?”
“If you want, you can do it starting today, but why?”
“…I’m a little tight on money right now…”
Lancel watched Marigold’s voice trail off and barely suppressed the urge to offer her a loan.
‘No, no. What if you marry me again? You’re supposed to become the empress.’
Anyone overhearing might think him hopelessly narcissistic, but what could he do? It had actually happened before.
Lancel, who had been thinking for a moment, gestured towards Hesti.
“Hesti, find Marigold a commission right away.”
“There aren’t many suitable tasks for someone with a Bronze Insignia yet. Guard duty, thief apprehension, sewer cleaning, debt collection, dealing with troublesome brothel patrons—just small, trivial things like that.”
“I’ll do it! I’ll do anything!”
Marigold glanced at Lancel as she said that.
‘What?’
Lancel couldn’t figure out why she was watching for his reaction.
“Give me everything! I’ll do it all!”
“One by one. One by one.”
Lancel felt uneasy under Marigold’s persistent gaze, but he dismissed it as his imagination.
‘… … I didn’t do something wrong again, did I?’
Gosh she’s so cute
Such a good wife, it’s his fortune.
cutie