I have always been hostile toward bullies.

  In my previous life, I went through a dark period when I spent my time hunting down abusers. Many people hated me for it—victims and aggressors alike. They told me countless times to stop sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.

  It was stupid: a teenager with a moral compass twisted by my father’s influence. He always encouraged me to help people, and he even paid for my first years of martial arts at a gym near our home.

  And yet, despite the shame I felt toward those buried memories, a part of me never forgave abusers.

  So I felt uneasy when the pommel of my sword smashed into Ronaldo’s left shoulder. That wasn’t a practice hit—I meant to break the bone.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Ronaldo screamed, and Lady Nora sprang to her feet.

  Ronaldo dropped his axe and fell to his knees.

  Unlike the flat wooden blade, the round pommel and the hard crossguard were thick enough to serve as a temporary hammer. I attacked again at the boy’s helmet, but by sheer luck he threw himself down, barely avoiding my follow-up.

  “You won’t escape.”

  With him on the ground, I decided to kick him in the face, knocking him down again.

  I was tempted to mount him and pummel him with punches, but I stopped myself. Starting ground fighting against someone heavier and physically stronger wasn’t wise; my advantage was technique, not raw power.

  “N-Not yet…”

  Ronaldo stood again, his face bloody and his eyes full of tears. The poor kid truly hated this. I could feel his rage mixed with frantic fear and the urge to run away.

  It had to be infuriating.

  Train like crazy for a whole year, just to get beaten down.

  He grabbed his axe again and swung a downward strike straight at my helmet. That’s when I smiled—because instead of dodging backward, I gripped my sword with both hands along the blade and received the impact right in the center.

  Ronaldo’s face twisted with confusion at the sudden block. By the time he understood what was happening, it was too late.

  “Goodbye.”

  As the axe head drifted slightly to the right, I used the close distance and the grip I was using now.

  What happened next was brutal.

  The pommel of my sword slammed full force into the boy’s helmet. I could’ve broken his nose if I’d aimed lower, but at the last second I showed mercy and struck the metal.

  Even so, he crashed backward with a heavy THUD that stunned everyone watching. This wasn’t a duel anymore—it was a one-sided beating that should’ve been stopped.

  “Your Highness, that’s enough. If you continue, Ronaldo’s life could be in danger,” Lady Nora tried to halt the fight, but Sir Marte Hogan stopped her with a piercing stare.

  “King Ulric will decide that, Lady Nora. You may only observe.”

  “He’s already won, Your Highness. Reconsider the conditions of this match,” she insisted.

  Alda and Ingrid said nothing.

  They stayed silent, the situation too severe.

  “L-Lady Nora…”

  All right—Ronaldo earned my respect with this. Despite being struck in the head with a blunt weapon, he raised his guard again while a line of blood slid down his forehead.

  “Th-thanks to you, I didn’t feel useless. This whole year training with Lady Alda, Ingrid, and my sister… it wasn’t so bad.”

  Ronaldo surprised me again.

  Instead of crying and cursing his weakness, he smiled—genuinely satisfied.

  “R-Ronaldo…” I whispered, stunned by his determination.

  “You’re strong, Your Highness.” The boy spat blood—and a baby tooth with it. “B-But I can’t let you win. Not just for my art… a-also for Lady Nora, who believed in me when nobody else did. Sister!”

  “E-eh, yes.” Yuka looked shocked at her brother’s shout. She had never seen him this determined. He looked like a different person—someone unafraid to step forward.

  The whiny, negative, timid Ronaldo was gone.

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  Sometimes, all we need is someone to support us and believe in us. Ronaldo never had that. He grew up in his brothers’ shadow and under his father’s indifference. But now everyone is watching him.

  “Look at me—look!” Ronaldo panted one last time.

  I felt the full intensity of his gaze.

  “Come at me, Ronaldo Black Vase!”

  In a desperate attempt to claim victory, Ronaldo threw a straight frontal axe strike into my brigandine. I thought it would be easy to evade.

  It wasn’t. The axe head missed me by inches.

  I gripped my blade and aimed for his helmet—but there was something I didn’t notice until it was too late.

  “AAAAAAAAH!”

  I felt my left ankle get tapped by a light kick—just enough to sting. He didn’t have the strength for a real kick anymore, but at this point any contact counted toward the bet.

  That meant he needed only one more hit.

  Which I refused to allow.

  “It’s over!”

  But my pommel strike was blocked.

  At the last second, Ronaldo released his axe and grabbed my pommel with both hands, forcing a close-range grapple where he held the advantage.

  The gap in strength and height was still massive. Staying in that clinch would end badly, so I drove a knee into his stomach, dropping him to his knees.

  But—

  He didn’t let go of the pommel.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, struggling.

  “UGH.”

  Because of his weight, Ronaldo managed to shove me backward. To avoid being trapped, I had no choice but to release my sword and shrimp backward to escape.

  He tried to kick me immediately.

  He missed.

  “I’m without my weapon.”

  “T-That’s right, Your Highness.” Ronaldo hurled my wooden sword away. A smart decision—he wasn’t a skilled swordsman, and I knew techniques to disarm someone.

  He’d rather leave me without a blade than risk me using it against him.

  “I don’t need my sword to beat you.” I raised a natural boxing guard—left foot forward, right behind, both hands up at face level.

  We charged one last time with all the strength our small bodies could give.

  Like something out of a shōnen manga, we punched each other in the face at the exact same moment. My knuckles split his lip, while his fist barely grazed my helmet—

  but it still counted as a hit.

  Giving Ronaldo the victory.

  “You did it!” Lady Nora shouted. “You did it!”

  She couldn’t help herself—she ran to her student and hugged him hard. Sir Marte watched with a satisfied smile.

  “L-Lady Nora, you’re crushing me…” Ronaldo mumbled as her thin arms pressed his head into her chest.

  O-Okay. I also wanted a cute girl to press my head into her chest.

  “I knew you could do it! I knew it!” Whether from emotion, pride, or simply her nature, the warrior woman cried—tears dampening Ronaldo’s injured cheeks. “I never doubted you for even a minute.”

  “I accept defeat. Well done, Ronaldo—you proved you have the determination to fight for your dreams.” I rubbed at my own injuries. They weren’t serious, but after seeing Ronaldo being pampered, I wanted some affection too.

  “You fought bravely. Well done, Ronaldo.” Yuka also approached. Less emotional, she patted his head. She looked genuinely relieved—watching her brother get beaten couldn’t have been pleasant. “Y-You’re not a coward. I won’t call you that again.”

  Alda and Ingrid stepped down onto the dueling ground.

  “See? I knew all our training would pay off,” Alda bragged.

  “Congratulations.” Ingrid smiled gently, then pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket and turned to me. “Ulric, you’ve got a bit of blood on your forehead. Take off your helmet so I can clean it.”

  “Ah—sure…”

  Without protesting, I removed my helmet so she could tend the wound. In less than three minutes, my face looked fine again.

  Ronaldo, on the other hand, needed urgent treatment after what I’d done to him.

  “I…I did it.”

  “Yes, Ronaldo. As I promised, you’ll have an art tutor so you can show the Black Vase family they can be artists too.”

  “Y-Your Highness, thank you… I-I have another request. Will you hear it?”

  “Speak.”

  “Thank you for giving me this chance. You were right… I was a failure. I was afraid of so many things that I never gave myself the chance to fight for my own ambitions. That’s why I asked to leave home. Again—thank you.” Ronaldo dropped to his knees. Despite his pain, he performed a perfect prostration, then stood with Lady Nora’s help. “I want you to send the tutor to my home, in the Duchy of Florinda. I’m going back there to face my father. I want to prove my determination to be an artist is real—and if necessary… I’ll take up the path of arms as a second career.”

  Yuka’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  At last, the whiny, spoiled Ronaldo was taking a serious step into the future.

  All thanks to the brutal beating I gave him.

  “Very well. I’ve tested your determination firsthand, and I approve. Prove the Black Vase can become artists.”

  “It’s a brave decision, Ronaldo. As your teacher, I support you.” Lady Nora smiled and bowed her head toward me. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity too, Your Highness. Teaching the art of combat is a fundamental step toward true martial mastery.”

  “You’ve done well. You’ll be reassigned to the Royal Guard. Sir Marte Hogan will give you your new orders.”

  “As you command, Your Highness.” Lady Nora approached Ronaldo and smiled at him again. “Want me to help you to the infirmary? We need to treat your nose.”

  “E-eh, yes, thank you…”

  Aw. Cute.

  It seemed Lady Nora had become his first love—just as Sora had been mine.

  “If that’s what you want, brother, then fine. Good luck. I’ll stay in the capital. I still have things to learn from the courtiers.” Yuka sighed. She didn’t look thrilled, but she also wasn’t openly hostile like she’d been a year ago.

  “Thanks, sister. I’ll go get treated. We’ll talk later.”

  Ronaldo and Lady Nora left with my permission. Yuka remained and turned toward us.

  “Lady Alda… betrothed Ingrid…” The gray-haired, haughty girl finally bowed properly. No ugly faces, no sneer. “I’m sorry. I underestimated you. You proved your origins mean nothing when it comes to getting things done. You helped my brother this year, and for that… I’m truly grateful.”

  “I accept your apology, Yuka. I hope we can keep working together for the good of the kingdom.” Ingrid bowed with perfect courtly grace. Time with Mother was turning her into an elite noblewoman. Her white hair went from a disadvantage to part of her charm.

  Mother always said turning flaws into strengths was a mark of maturity and genius. This Ingrid looked nothing like the weak girl I’d met nearly two years ago.

  Little by little, she was shaping herself into someone capable of great things.

  “It’s nothing! I hope we get along better from now on!” Alda, still informal and innocent, gave her a bright smile. Yuka’s expression softened by the second.

  “And you, Your Highness… you truly are an interesting person. I didn’t think my brother could leave his cowardice behind, but your plan worked perfectly.” Yuka knelt before me, which also made Sir Marte look pleased. “I acknowledge it—you are a great monarch. I’m sure we’ll work together for the good of this kingdom. I’ll study under the queen regent to improve my political skills.”

  “And I’ll be glad to have you, Yuka.”

  That was how my challenge ended.

  I improved my leadership, at least a little—and now all that remained was to report the results to Mother.