"Have you heard? The Archbishop is back!"
"I know, I know! I think I just saw him outside the simulation chamber!"
"Ah, is he here to watch Lady Durandal's S-rank Valkyrie examination?"
"Of course! Don't forget how indulgent the Archbishop is toward Lady Durandal!"
"Honestly, I sometimes feel Lady Durandal and the Archbishop seem more like family than Lady Theresa and the Archbishop…"
"Well, they're both blonde…"
"Shh! Don't say that so casually!"
The Archbishop is outside the simulation chamber?
After completing the penultimate S-rank trial, Durandal paused to rest briefly. Hearing the whispers around her, she tightened her grip on her lance.
If Otto was outside, then… was Senior Cecilia there as well?
Could she suspend the exam and confront the Archbishop directly—demand answers?
For a moment, she almost did exactly that.
If possible, she nearly wanted to pry open Otto's head and strip away every layer of concealment.
What exactly… was her relationship with Cecilia?
Her thoughts drifted back to their conversation days earlier. Since then, she had quietly investigated her own past—without delaying training or missions, without Rita's guidance. Clumsily. Alone.
It wasn't that she wanted to drown in the past…
But the aura Cecilia radiated—it truly captivated her. If only she could fall asleep in her embrace once more…
Wait.
Why "once more"?
Hold on?!
She suddenly remembered—when she had awkwardly expressed her desire for a hug, Cecilia's eyes had clearly agreed.
But somehow—
Somehow—
Somehow it had just… slipped away.
Where was her hug?
A miniature version of herself screamed inside her heart. She tried to suppress it, but the thought refused to fade.
She wanted to dismiss it as childish, the way she would laugh at her younger self.
But she couldn't.
It was like a blade of grass, stubbornly rooting in her heart, sprouting, spreading—until confusion blanketed her entirely.
Otto and Cecilia had returned from England.
After this, she would go to him. Find her. Lay bare everything weighing on her heart.
If she wasn't understood, so be it.
If she was mocked for immaturity, so be it.
She would resolve everything.
Let her… indulge in one final moment of recklessness in what should have been a fearless youth.
Exhaling softly, Durandal lifted her lance and returned to the center of the simulation chamber.
She had to perform well.
She couldn't embarrass herself in front of her senior.
She steadied herself, waiting for her final opponent.
—And then she saw her.
Cecilia stood before her, Abyss Flower in hand.
"?!!!!!!!"
"Hello, Miss Atagina."
Cecilia's sea-green eyes were filled with warmth.
"I am the examiner for your final trial—Cecilia Schariac."
"…!"
Outside, the chamber erupted.
"Ahhh! It's Lady Cecilia!"
"When did the simulation chamber get her combat data?!"
"I can't believe I get to see my childhood idol here!"
"I'm staying in the simulation room all afternoon until I roll Cecilia's simulation!"
The uproar pulled Durandal back to her senses.
She inhaled deeply and assumed her stance.
"You may call me Durandal. Or Bianka."
She leveled her lance.
"Bianka Durandal Atagina. Please instruct me!"
A flash of steel—
Then the sharp clang of lance against lance rang continuously through the chamber.
Neither used killing techniques. The exam rules required pure technical combat. The collision of spear against spear would determine Durandal's true combat ability.
Clang!
After an exchange, both retreated.
Cecilia smiled encouragingly.
Then her gaze sharpened.
She closed the distance, her spearwork turning fierce.
The probing phase was over.
Durandal sensed it immediately.
She stepped back lightly, twisting her lance to deflect Cecilia's strike from the side, then thrust toward her wrist.
But Cecilia's delicate hand shifted with unbelievable suppleness, evading the attack. Her spear trembled—
And a tidal offensive followed.
She had changed styles.
Her footwork grew intricate, weaving between thrusts like a dance.
Yet her gaze remained solemn and passionate.
Boots tapped lightly, controlling the rhythm of battle.
Seizing an opening in one of Durandal's strikes, Cecilia's toe pressed against the ground—
She slipped between the returning arcs of their lances and thrust toward the blonde girl's chest!
But Durandal showed no surprise.
Her slender waist twisted with equal flexibility, letting the spear skim past her chest. She reversed her grip, clashing weapons again.
Their lances separated.
Cecilia shifted her right foot back—
Durandal pressed forward instead.
Her lance shot toward Cecilia's torso!
Cecilia blocked horizontally—
But as she rotated her spearhead, Durandal suddenly shoved forward and released her weapon entirely, hurling it away—
Closing in barehanded, she drove a punch toward Cecilia's forehead!
Cecilia did not panic.
Her head arched back; her legs split apart in a perfect line—two movements completed almost simultaneously.
She avoided both punch and thrown spear flawlessly.
Then, right hand bracing the ground, her legs swept in a spinning counterattack!
Durandal leapt clear.
The fight shifted to close-quarters combat—fists and kicks colliding in rapid succession.
…
"How was it?"
Otto stood by a concealed side entrance as Cecilia approached.
"My child is incredible," Cecilia said, wiping the sweat from her brow, satisfaction glowing in her expression. "I was nowhere near that strong at her age."
"Little Goose's potential amazes even me."
Otto lifted a towel, gently pressing it to her fair cheek.
She let out a soft, embarrassed murmur—nothing like the valiant warrior from moments ago.
"As I told you before—she carries both Kaslana and Schariac blood. She wields a Pre-Civilization Divine Key capable of cleaving continents. She bears the vastness of a world."
"Our little Kiana is destined to surpass you and me—to walk even farther into the future."
—Provided he himself did not move forward again.
"I rather wish," Cecilia replied with a bitter smile, "that she could simply be an ordinary girl. No burden of saving the world. Just grow up safely."
"Safety, I can guarantee," Otto shook his head. "Ordinary? Impossible."
"Durandal—or Kiana—was born to shine."
They fell silent.
Otto wiped the droplets from her face, then down along her elegant neck, lingering at her slender fingers, feeling the warmth through the towel.
Cecilia's breathing gradually quickened.
"…Well."
After a long pause, Otto released her hand.
"If you're unsure how to tell her the truth, then think on it first. But no matter what—I believe Little Goose will be very happy about your return."
Then he seemed to recall something.
His expression grew serious.
"There is one more matter…"
He looked at her steadily.
"I cannot decide this for you. But Cecilia—do you wish for the current Durandal… to bear once more the name of the daughter of Kaslana and Schariac?"
◇ You can read 60+ chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested:
patreon.com/ElaraVance1
✨ Bonus Chapter Goals ✨
10 Reviews = 1 Bonus Chapter
100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter