(Arin's POV)
The afternoon wind at Lion Academy carried a chill that pierced straight to the marrow, remnants of a winter reluctant to leave completely. The sky above us was pale gray, hanging low as if pressing down on the earth with an invisible melancholic weight.
On the cobblestone path leading to the back of the Girls' Dormitory, dry leaves rustled beneath the soles of our shoes, creating crack and creak sounds that echoed too loudly in Kars Benzzi's ears.
I walked one step behind him, observing the young man's back closely.
Kars wore his best formal suit. It was not an ordinary academy uniform, but a black velvet suit with silver thread embroidery of the Benzzi Family crest on the left chest. He looked neat, dashing, and authoritative. At least, from the outside.
However, as someone who understood anatomy and body language, I saw a different story. His shoulders were tense, locked stiffly in a defensive position. His hand holding a small metal thermos trembled finely, the frequency perhaps five vibrations per second. His breathing was short and shallow, a sign of a diaphragm pressured by acute anxiety.
"Arin," called Kars without turning, his voice sounding like someone choking on their own tie. "Is... is my tie crooked? It feels crooked."
"Perfectly straight, Kars," I answered flatly. "Just like five minutes ago when you asked the same thing."
"What about my hair? Does it look too slick? Celia hates men who are too vain. She once said men who wear more hair oil than women are disgusting."
"Your hair is fine. Stop touching it or you will make it greasy with the sweat from your own hands."
Kars stopped walking abruptly. He took a deep breath, then exhaled roughly until white steam billowed from his mouth.
"I feel like I am walking to the gallows," he mumbled desperately. "Fighting monsters in the forest feels easier than this. At least monsters do not judge you with a look in their eyes."
I patted his shoulder gently to give him a little courage. "That is because monsters do not have opinions about you. Monsters just want to kill you. Celia? She has standards. And meeting someone's standards is often more terrifying than merely surviving."
Kars stared at the thermos in his hand as if the object were an active grenade ready to explode.
"Are you sure this will work?" he asked doubtfully. "Just... coffee? No flowers? No jewelry? Karl once sent her a diamond necklace worth five thousand gold and she threw it into the fish pond. The fish died choking on diamonds."
"That is exactly the point," I affirmed. "Your brother tried to buy her. We are trying to understand her. Celia Alphine is the daughter of a family of weapon forgers and iron mine rulers. She does not need shiny objects that have no practical function. She needs efficiency."
I pointed toward the high iron gate covered in vines ahead of us. That was the entrance to the Alphine Family Private Garden, a special area in the girls' dormitory rented by their family for 'private training'.
"Remember the notes in your blue book, Kars. She hates small talk or inefficiency. And above all, she hates noble lies. Do not try to be a prince in front of her. Be a business partner who brings solutions."
Kars nodded, trying to convince himself. "I am not a suitor. I am a business partner. I am a business partner."
"Good. Now walk. Do not make her wait. She hates people who are not punctual."
The garden was unlike Elena's rose garden which was full of colors and perfume fragrances. The Alphine Family Garden was more like a place of worship for tranquility and violence.
There were no excessively blooming flowers. There were only neatly trimmed pine trees, granite stones arranged aesthetically yet sturdily, and an expanse of short grass cut with military precision. The air here did not smell of nectar, but of weapon lubricating oil, cold iron, and wet earth.
And in the middle of that garden, stood the Iron Lady.
Celia Alphine.
She was not sitting drinking tea under a lace umbrella. She stood in the middle of a sandy area, wearing a tight dark brown leather training tunic that wrapped her athletic body. Her black hair was tied high in a ponytail, practical and not obstructing her view.
In her hand, she held a two-meter-long Halberd. Its massive axe blade gleamed deadly under the gloomy afternoon light.
SCRAPE... SCRAPE...
That sound dominated the silence of the garden. Celia was sharpening her axe blade with a handheld whetstone. Her movements were rhythmic, slow, and full of pressure. Every scrape of stone on metal sent a shiver to the teeth, yet to Celia, it seemed to be meditation music.
She knew we were coming. Her trained ears must have heard our footsteps since the gate. However, she did not turn. She did not stop sharpening. She let us stand at the edge of that sand field, waiting like subordinates facing a general.
This was a power move. Wordless dominance.
Kars swallowed hard. He glanced at me briefly. I gave him an eye signal: Advance.
Kars stepped into the sand area. His formal shoes sank slightly into the soft sand.
"Good afternoon, Lady Celia," greeted Kars. His voice trembled a little at first, but he managed to steady it at the end of the sentence.
Celia stopped sharpening instantly. The sudden silence felt heavier than the sharpening sound earlier.
She lowered her whetstone slowly, then turned her body facing us. Her gaze was sharp, iron gray, cold and piercing. There was no friendliness there. Only calculative assessment.
"Benzzi," she said coldly. She did not use his first name, only his family name. As if Kars were merely a representative of the entity she hated. "I smelled expensive perfume and desperation from ten meters away."
Celia glanced at me briefly with a scrutinizing gaze, then looked back at Kars.
"And you brought your new 'guard dog'. Arin, the monster slayer. Interesting. Are you afraid I will behead you if you come alone, Kars?"
"I came not to fight," answered Kars, trying to maintain his posture so as not to look intimidated. "And Arin here is not a guard. He is my partner."
Celia snorted. A short sound full of mockery. She planted her Halberd strongly into the sandy ground.
"Partner. A nice word for 'the person who cleans up my mess'. Tell me, Kars. What do you want? Have you come bringing another ridiculous proposal? Or do you want to invite me to a dance where we have to pretend to like each other while discussing iron ore prices?"
"Neither," answered Kars firmly.
Kars stepped forward, approaching the rough stone table near where Celia stood. On the table, scattered cleaning cloths and bottles of weapon oil.
Kars took the thermos from inside his suit and placed it carefully on the table.
"I brought this."
Celia raised one eyebrow. She stared at the thermos suspiciously.
"What is that? Love poison? Or an obedience potion?"
"Coffee," answered Kars briefly. "Black Mountain beans from the northern highlands. Dark roast. Brewing temperature eighty-five degrees. No sugar. No milk. Bitter."
Celia's eyes blinked slowly. A hint of surprise flashed across her stiff face.
"Black Mountain?" she repeated softly. "That is a rare variety. And it tastes very acidic."
"I know you do not like sweet things. You said sweetness dulls your tongue," Kars explained. "And you hate coffee that is too hot because it burns your tongue and disrupts your training focus."
Kars opened the thermos lid and poured it into the small metal cup he also brought. Thick black steam billowed, carrying a strong, bitter, and slightly earthy coffee aroma. A very specific aroma.
Celia fell silent for a moment. She stared at the black liquid in the cup, then looked at Kars with a new perspective. Not a completely respectful look, but at least her condescending look diminished a little.
She put down her rag, picked up the cup, and sniffed it.
"The aroma is right," she muttered.
She sipped a little. Then gulped more.
I saw Kars's shoulders drop slightly in relief. He felt successful. He had done his research correctly. That small notebook was not useless. Kars managed to penetrate Celia's initial defense with a small, personal detail.
Celia placed the cup back on the table. The sound of metal meeting stone rang clang.
"The coffee is good," said Celia flatly. "Very good. Good research, Kars. Or maybe your spies are good."
Kars smiled thinly, feeling he got an opening to enter. "I just paid attention. I know you appreciate quality."
"True. I highly appreciate quality," repeated Celia.
However suddenly, the atmosphere between us changed drastically.
Celia picked up her Halberd again. She spun it with one hand, a fluid yet threatening movement, then stamped the butt on the ground hard until sand scattered.
Her eyes, which had softened slightly earlier, now hardened again, colder than steel in winter.
"But you think..." Celia's voice lowered, full of restrained venom. "You think a cup of good coffee can buy the loyalty of the Alphine Family?"
Kars's smile vanished instantly. "What? No, I—"
"What do you take me for, Kars?" interrupted Celia sharply, stepping forward until her shadow covered Kars's body. "A village girl who can be bribed with small attentions? Or a lonely woman who will melt just because a man remembers her taste buds?"
"That is not what I meant!" Kars took a step back, intimidated by her killing aura.
"You came here, brought your newly rising 'partner', brought my favorite coffee, and what did you hope for? That I would be impressed? That I would say, 'Oh, Kars Benzzi is actually very attentive, let's hand over thousands of tons of steel and my family's future to him'?"
Celia laughed. A dry and rough laugh.
"Do not be ridiculous. You are just like your brother. The difference is, Karl tried to buy me with diamonds and power. You? You try to buy me with cheap sentiment."
"This is not sentiment!" argued Kars, his face turning red. "I am serious! I want us to work together. I want to replace Karl's position. I know you hate him. I offer a better alternative!"
"Better you say?"
Celia turned around, walking toward a pile of wooden crates in the corner of the garden. She kicked one of the crates until the lid opened roughly.
The inside was completely empty.
"Look at that, Benzzi," Celia pointed at the empty crate furiously. "Do you know what that is? That is our steel shipping crate these past few days. Completely empty. Not because we have no goods, in fact, our mines are full to bursting. Our warehouses in the city are overflowing until we have to stack steel in the parking lot."
Celia stared at Kars with blazing eyes.
"Our goods cannot go out. Not a single gram of Alphine steel has left this district in the past few days."
I frowned. "Why?" I asked, finally speaking up.
Celia turned to me. "Ask your new friend there. Or more accurately, ask his brother's ally."
Celia walked closer to Kars again, pointing at his chest with her calloused index finger.
"Elian Delphine," hissed Celia. She spat the name out. "Elian controls Customs and overland Logistics. Since Karl felt his position threatened by you... he asked Elian to block us."
Kars's eyes widened in shock. "Karl... did that?"
"Of course he did it! He wants to force me to kneel and beg him!" shouted Celia in frustration. "He blocked our travel permits under the pretext of 'routine inspections'. Our business is totally stalled. We lose thousands of gold every day. Our forgers cannot eat because there are no sales."
Celia picked up the coffee cup Kars had given her earlier, then poured its contents onto the ground. The black liquid seeped into the sand, wasted.
"You came bringing coffee, Kars. While my family needs a road. You came offering an alliance empty-handed, while our necks are being choked by your own allies, the Benzzi and Delphine families."
Celia looked at Kars with a gaze that crushed his dignity.
"Your brother, Karl, that crazy bastard... at least he has power. He can order Elian to open or close the road."
Celia brought her face close to Kars's face.
"But you? What do you actually have, Kars? Gambling tables? Dirty money from students who lost bets? You have no real power. No connections in Customs, let alone troops."
"In my eyes," continued Celia cruelly, "You are merely a 'Spare' playing the role of a leader. You cannot save my family. So, take your coffee, take your hero friend, and get out of my sight before I use this spear to drive you out by force."
Kars was left utterly speechless.
He stood frozen there, his face deathly pale. Celia's words were not just a rejection. They were a brutal dissection of the reality of his life.
All his mental preparation, his blue book data, his belief that he was different from Karl... everything shattered before the cold logistical facts.
Love and attention could not move steel. Power moved it.
"Celia... I..." Kars tried to speak, but his voice was lost.
"LEAVE!" snapped Celia, spinning her Halberd. The wind from the spinning weapon slapped Kars's face.
Kars stepped back. His shoulders slumped. The light in his eyes extinguished. He turned around slowly, walking unsteadily leaving the sand area. He looked small, weak, and pathetic.
I stood still for a moment, staring at Celia.
The girl stood tall with ragged breath, her chest rising and falling suppressing emotion. Behind her anger, I saw something else. A fear.
Celia was not angry at Kars. She was angry at her own helplessness because her family was being destroyed slowly and she, the warrior, could not slash an invisible enemy like 'bureaucracy' and 'logistics'.
Celia glared at me. "You too, leave! Or do you want me to turn you into a punching bag?"
I did not answer her threat. I merely nodded politely, a gesture of respect to a cornered warrior, then turned to follow Kars.
As we walked out of that garden, the sound of the whetstone scraping against metal was heard again.
SCRAPE... SCRAPE...
But this time, the sound was faster, more aggressive, and more desperate.
Kars walked in the dorm hallway like a walking corpse. His gaze stared blankly at the marble floor.
"She is right, Arin," mumbled Kars softly, his voice breaking. "I am naive. I thought... I thought if I were different from Karl, if I were more human, she would see me. But it turns out... in this world, being good is not enough."
Kars clenched his fists. "I have no power to fight Elian's blockade. I am a failure."
I stopped walking. Letting Kars walk a few more steps before he realized I stopped.
"Kars," I called.
Kars stopped, turning with a listless face. "What? You want to say 'I told you so'? Or want to comfort me with sweet words?"
I leaned against a stone pillar, crossing my arms over my chest. My brain spun fast, rearranging all the information we just got.
Celia had just given us the key to the answer, but Kars was too busy pitying himself to see it.
"She did not reject you because she hates you, Kars," I said calmly. "She rejected you because she is dying and you came bringing an adhesive bandage, not an antidote."
"Same thing!" exclaimed Kars in frustration. "I do not have the antidote! Karl and Elian hold the key!"
"Wrong," I corrected. "Celia just told us her weakness. She has the Goods (Steel), but does not have the Road (Logistics). Elian blocked the official road."
I walked approaching Kars, staring into his eyes sharply.
"Think, Kars. This world does not only consist of official roads guarded by knights in armor. There are other roads that are dark, muddy, and not on the map."
I pointed to Kars's suit pocket, where he kept his casino ledger.
"You feel weak because you try to play by their rules. You try to be a diplomat noble until you forget who you are right now."
Kars frowned in confusion. "Who am I?"
"You are the Underground King of the Academy," I whispered. "You hold the Casino which has the biggest Cash Flow in this school. Piles of liquid, fast, and untraceable cash."
Kars's eyes began to blink, his brain starting to work.
"Elian has bureaucracy," I continued. "But bureaucracy is slow and corrupt, but you have cash."
"Steel cannot be eaten, Kars. But money..." I smirked thinly. "...money can rent rat paths. Money can make blind people see, and gatekeepers deaf."
"You mean..." Kars stared at me, a glimmer of dangerous hope starting to ignite in his eyes.
"Shadow Guild," I said.
Kars jolted. "Smugglers? That is illegal! If my father finds out..."
"Your father cares about results, not the process. If you can move that steel when Karl cannot... if you can save Alphine's business in a way your brother cannot do..."
I patted Kars's shoulder.
"Who will care which road the steel arrived through? The important thing is the steel is sold, and gold flows in."
Kars was silent. He looked at his hand which earlier trembled holding coffee, now slowly clenching tight. He began to think like a criminal. Or more accurately, like a desperate businessman.
"Celia needs a solution," mumbled Kars. "She does not need a legal hero but smuggling."
"Exactly," I answered. "We will not beg her again tomorrow. Of course we will come back to her, but not as suitors bringing flowers or coffee."
I stared at the dark hallway ahead of us.
"We will come as business partners bringing the only thing that can save her."
Kars lifted his face. A thin, crooked, and slightly crazy smile began to carve on his lips. That was not the old Kars's smile. That was the smile of someone ready to play dirty, a typical Benzzi smile.
"Let's go meet Elena," said Kars, his steps now faster and more energetic. "We need her grandmother's contacts with the underworld. I will buy all that damn steel."
That night, beneath the shadows of the academy towers, our alliance did not crack due to failure. Quite the opposite, we became denser. Like steel reforged into a sharper and more dangerous shape.
Diplomacy had failed completely. Now it was time for dark transactions.