Najenda's father had been a member of her hometown's Imperial Police. His death during a bandit raid was the spark that drove her, strong-willed since childhood, to pursue a military career.
Luck had favored her. With the guidance of a dependable superior and her own dedication, she'd risen quickly through the ranks. Recently, she'd led her local forces to crush almost every bandit gang near their territory, earning herself a summons to the Capital for commendation.
At first, Najenda had been ecstatic—but the Capital proved far from what she'd imagined.
Though initially dazzled by the city's size and opulence, she quickly realized this wasn't the place for her.
Nobles and merchants strolled the streets, resplendent in silk and gold, their disdainful sneers barely concealed. In stark contrast stood the impoverished districts, crumbling and bleak, inhabited by figures who moved silently, heads lowered, avoiding contact with others. The two areas existed side by side, yet they might as well have been worlds apart.
Both neighborhoods were equally noisy, yet both radiated a bone-chilling indifference.
Najenda's hometown had never been prosperous; frequent raids had even left it in decay. But perhaps it was exactly those hardships that bound the residents tightly together. Warmth filled every interaction. Even their local lord—indeed, even the governor himself—had always felt like family.
But here?
"Tiger~! Here's your favorite!"
"Meow~! Meow~!!"
Watching the cat seated—or rather, standing—opposite her, Najenda's lips twitched uncontrollably. She wanted very badly to point out that having a pet join guests at the dinner table was incredibly rude, but faced with Tiger's cheerful meowing and Lancer's gentle, doting smile, she suddenly felt a profound sense of…pity?
Yes, pity was the word.
A ruthless butcher (misunderstanding), a villain who snatched innocent young women (major misunderstanding), a man who looked down upon women (complete fabrication)—yet he could only reveal such genuine warmth when interacting with his pet. Wasn't that just… tragic?
...
By the time dinner ended, Najenda had barely exchanged a meaningful word with Lancer beyond polite formalities. Instead, she spent most of the meal chatting casually with Leone. As for Lancer, he'd remained absorbed with Tiger until it was nearly time to leave, finally helping the cat pack up the remaining grilled fish. Tiger might be clingy and have a monstrous appetite, but like the weapon he wielded, he was fiercely loyal to his companions, always remembering to bring treats back for his two friends.
After Tiger departed, Najenda also stood to leave. They exchanged a few more courteous pleasantries at the door before she returned to her own villa. When Lancer stepped back inside, he found Leone busy clearing the table. Seeing her diligently at work, he chose not to disturb her, instead retrieving his lance from his room.
Yesterday, he'd skipped training entirely, spending the day sulking in bed after nearly losing control. He couldn't waste another evening.
Training with a cavalry lance was fundamentally different from training with a spear. While spear techniques emphasized explosive agility, the lance demanded raw strength and endurance.
Lancer's basic skill, [Triple Thrust], had long since hit its max at LV10 through relentless battles over the past year. Yet, he continued practicing this same technique obsessively. It wasn't just because his foundational skills were limited; rather, he constantly felt as if he were on the verge of grasping something deeper…
Unlike the spear's shrill whistle through the air, the lance strikes resonated with a deep, heavy thud, imposing and powerful.
"Hah…hah…!"
Initially, images of Leone and Honest flashed through his mind, but gradually, each thrust brought calm. Eventually, nothing existed before him except the imaginary target of his strikes, the entire world melting away…
...
Having finished tidying up, Leone returned to the living room, only to hear strange noises drifting in from outside. Curiosity piqued, she made her way to the backyard.
Whoosh—!
The instant she slid open the door, a powerful gust of wind rushed past, forcing her to shield her face instinctively. The sudden wind vanished as abruptly as it appeared, and she saw Lancer standing sideways to her, gripping his lance tightly. He seemed oblivious to her presence, leaving Leone momentarily at a loss. But suddenly, her eyes lit up.
That guy's barely older than me, yet he's insanely strong! He must have some secret! If I could steal even a bit of his technique, maybe I'd become strong enough to escape. As long as I get out of the Capital, I should be free, right?
Indeed, Leone might appear docile, but she'd never truly given up on escaping. Back when Lancer had arrested her for the Imperial Police, she'd immediately begun conserving her strength once she realized escape was impossible, deliberately playing weak. Unfortunately, she'd run into the utterly unpredictable Lancer. Now, the situation seemed equally unpredictable.
However, as she perched on the steps, carefully observing him, she found herself increasingly confused.
Lancer wasn't doing anything particularly special. All he did was grip the lance single-handed, spinning it before repeatedly thrusting forward—again and again, in endless repetition…
Had Leone not noticed his black training suit thoroughly drenched in sweat, or the flattened grass beneath his feet, trampled until it resembled stone, she might have assumed he'd only just started.
To be fair, each of Lancer's strikes kicked up fierce gusts, sweat flinging off him dramatically. Yet, as impressive as it looked at first, the monotonous repetition soon dulled Leone's excitement. His movements were as repetitive as a machine, like a coin swinging hypnotically before her eyes. Eventually, boredom overcame curiosity, and she leaned her head against the railing, drifting off into sleep…
...
"Whew!"
Nearly an hour and a half later, Lancer finally completed his five-hundredth thrust. Even with his superhuman physique, exhaustion seeped from his bones in a heavy exhale.
He stretched, joints popping audibly as tension released. The sounds might've startled an onlooker, but there was no avoiding it. Such repetitive training placed immense strain on his muscles, especially his lower back, which burned fiercely from each sharp twist.
Flicking his lance closed, Lancer prepared to head inside for a shower, only to spot Leone curled up asleep on the wooden steps, hugging her knees. He paused briefly, then shook his head helplessly, gently lifting her into his arms and carrying her indoors. It seemed the tense nerves she'd held all day had finally relaxed, causing her to slip into slumber.
Feeling her soft body pressed against him, Lancer instinctively reacted, but noticing the lingering fear on her face—even in sleep—he released a deep sigh.
Guess I'll go back out and train some more…
---
T/N: hehehe triple thrust, heheh i want him to triple thrust me, i mean uhhhhh WAIT IS HE NOT LIKE OVER 20??? WHY DID LEON SAY JUST A COUPLE YEARS OLDER
also im thinking IM THINKING CHILL THE FUCK ohhh yes the second coming of greed, where he was like ima keep thrusting!!!!! and evolved thrust, the second coming of greed i really liked it! but honestly could do without the romance... i mean some of it was good, but at the end i didnt like what that princess did
T/N2: heres ur updates :3 meeting the 4 chaps a week quota :3 posting earlier so bonus chaps will be a longer waitttt >:)
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
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