Raising The Princess To Overcome Death Chapter 366

[ … words ]

363: Lena – The Other Lena

Defeat is bitter.

No matter the process, no matter the opponent, it’s so harsh it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, forcing you to retreat to a figurative cave to recover.

That’s exactly what I did. I hid out at Uncle Elson’s mansion until news of the victor reached me.

In the end, that Rev guy claimed the championship. As the saying goes, “The victor’s shadow is a refuge for the defeated,” and it offered me some solace.

That guy was just ridiculously skilled.

It wasn’t that I was inept.

Granted, I hadn’t lost to him directly but to Arpen Albacete, who then went on to lose to him. This made swallowing my pride a lot harder.

Anyway!

I don’t know where I first heard that profound saying, but it’s true. Win or lose, all you can do is give your best.

Fine.

I’ll give it my all until the end.

Sure, it seemed like my chance to become a knight alongside Ray—or even get married this year—was long gone. But I resolved to see things through.

I would compete in the loser’s bracket.

When I told Ray this, he seemed unsurprised and responded, “Let’s meet in the finals, then.”

I grinned back at him.

“Oh, please. How dare a Round of 16 dropout challenge someone who made it to the quarterfinals? Ray, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

And I truly didn’t intend to.

Unlike the main tournament, the loser’s bracket offered only the winner a chance to join the knighthood or take the prize money.

Even if Ray and I both made it to the finals, only one of us could become a knight. That wasn’t what I wanted.

So, I planned to win and choose the prize money—so that one day, Ray and I could become knights together.

Fueled by this petty but powerful desire, I entered the loser’s bracket the next day.

As if it was meant to be, I reached the finals without a single loss. And there, I faced Ray.

And Ray was… strong. Just as I’d expected.

The noise of the audience faded into an eerie silence. In my eyes, there was only Ray. Standing there with his sword lowered, he smiled at me.

“Huff… huff… whew…”

During a brief pause, I caught my breath and adjusted my stance.

This isn’t working. I need to fight differently.

I wiped my face, clearing the sweat dripping down my forehead. When I looked up again, Ray had taken a step closer, the sun behind him casting him in shadow.

A towering, dark silhouette.

Even though I knew it was Ray, he looked terrifying.

I spat into my palm, gripping my sword tightly.

Let this work. Please.

Waaaaaaah!

When I raised my sword, the noise from the audience roared back, even louder than before.

Of course. Who in their right mind would wield a sword like this?

Holding it like a spear, I gripped the middle of the blade with my left hand and the hilt with my right.

I adjusted the sword’s tip with my left hand, pointing it at Ray. I couldn’t tell what expression he wore, hidden by the backlighting, but his cautious movements suggested he wasn’t underestimating me.

A hint of recognition. It filled me with pride as I sidestepped closer, carefully closing the distance. Our swords met.

Clink.

I could feel it. This might just work.

“Hah!”

I pushed against Ray’s sword with all my strength.

It gave way, as expected. My grip on the middle of the blade gave me far better leverage than Ray’s hold on the hilt alone.

With his sword shoved aside, I focused on the next move, overwhelmed by a flood of new sensations.

Holding the sword differently made swordsmanship feel completely different. A cascade of unconventional moves filled my mind, almost too many to choose from.

For now, I decided on something simple. Lifting my left leg, I aimed a high kick at him.

Ray bent backward to dodge.

Just as I thought!

Ray and I were not only engaged but also disciples of the same master. Noel’s impenetrable swordsmanship formed the foundation of Ray’s style, so I had anticipated his reaction.

Using the momentum of my swinging leg, I transitioned into my next move.

Pivoting on my planted right foot, I spun, creating a powerful rotation with my kick. My body leaned in the opposite direction, low enough that I felt my hair brush the stone floor of the arena.

Meanwhile, my hands worked quickly.

I switched my grip, moving my right hand to the blade and my left to the hilt.

This completed a perfect upward stabbing stance.

As soon as my left foot touched the ground, I lunged, extending the attack with the added force of my uncoiling body.

The audience erupted.

Waaaaah!

Their cheers sounded as if they came from a single voice. It was a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment—a perfect strike.

But it didn’t work on Ray.

Instead, I ended up sprawled on the ground, pain shooting through my right side.

Did he break my ribs? No, seriously, are they broken?

I stumbled back, clutching my ribs with one hand while dragging my heavy sword with the other. When I reached a safe distance, I realized what had hit me.

Ray’s sword hilt—the blunt pommel at the end.

He hadn’t reclaimed his sword after I pushed it aside.

Instead, when I spun to strike, he had stepped out of my reach and countered with a short jab of his hilt, slipping completely past my range.

Wow. He’s an actual monster.

It would’ve been hard for most opponents to notice my spinning motion, their attention diverted by my high kick.

Still, Ray saw through it.

Admiration aside, I assessed whether I could keep fighting.

My ribs throbbed where I’d been struck, leaving my body stiff. My movements would be slower now, and my stamina was running out. Ray, that monstrous man, didn’t even seem out of breath.

The crowd must have sensed my growing disadvantage because they began to chant Ray’s name amidst their cheers.

As I gritted my teeth and raised my sword, Ray spoke.

“Rera, your unusual swordsmanship isn’t complete yet.”

“…What do you think of it?”

He took another step forward, silhouetted by the backlight. Though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell what expression he wore.

“It’s extraordinary.”

Thud—

With the sound of cheers and my vision fading, my first Maunin-Reti Tournament came to an end.

***

“Agh… my head. Ray, you bastard…”

The pounding in my skull greeted me as soon as I woke. Rubbing my temple, I sat up.

Wait. I sat up?

The soft blanket beneath my hands and the unfamiliar surroundings told me I was in an infirmary. Nearby, a few warriors I’d seen during the competition were also resting.

“You’re awake.”

One of them approached me.

It was Kali Toluca, a sociable warrior in his early thirties. He handed me a cup of water, and we exchanged a few words of small talk. His words were mostly condolences, something about how it was a shame for both of us.

Not in the mood for a long conversation, I sent him off. Kali left with a parting remark about something to consider, though I didn’t pay much attention to his words.

“I lost.”

That was the only thought in my head.

Judging by the faint roar of the crowd still filtering in, I hadn’t been unconscious for long. I tried to distract myself, but the idea that Ray might already have been knighted crept into my mind.

Perhaps those cheers were celebrating the knighting of the victors.

It stung. My dream had been to become a knight alongside Ray.

I’d imagined combining the knighting ceremony with our wedding, wearing strong armor instead of a delicate dress. Not as a pretty bride, but as an equal partner to my groom.

But that dream is gone now.

Ray had, once again, taken a step ahead of me. I hadn’t caught up.

Forget being equals. Ray would become a knight before me, get swept up in the glamor of the capital, and be charmed by the sweet voices of sophisticated city girls. He’d forget all about me, leaving me to lead a lonely life, quietly cooking meals at home while wondering when he’d finally marry me…

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen.

If I really wanted to wallow in self-pity, I could’ve mustered some tears for dramatic effect.

Still, my life wasn’t the kind of tragedy that warranted crying my heart out. As disappointing as it was, I could still have a wedding someday.

I just needed to find out when the next knighthood exam would be held. That was all this was—a minor setback.

I sat on the bed, clicking my tongue.

I should congratulate Ray, but I didn’t feel like it. Stupid jerk.

And speak of the devil, that jerk appeared in the doorway.

For reasons I didn’t even understand, I turned away, lying back down. I felt him sit beside me but pretended not to notice, staring at the empty vase on the bedside table.

“Rera. I’m here.”

The vase remained empty, and I wondered why I was sulking.

Angry at myself, I suddenly shot upright.

“Ugh! What’s with this melodrama?! Hey, Ray! Congratulations. You became a knight first, huh? So, care to give a speech before we go grab some dr—”

…Huh.

I froze mid-sentence.

Ray burst into laughter, holding a heavy pouch in his hand.

He handed it to me, his smile bright.

“I brought the prize money. What? You thought I’d accept the knighting?”

“But… you wanted to be a knight. Why…?”

“Because I want to become a knight with you. As for the wedding… I know it’s early, and you might not like the idea, but I thought we could combine it with the knighting ceremony. Only if you’re okay with it, though.”

I didn’t know what kind of expression I was making. The tears that hadn’t come earlier now threatened to fall.

I hugged Ray tightly and cried my heart out.

“You idiot. It’s way too early to talk about marriage. Sniff. And why did you win the prize money? It’s useless.”

Ray gently patted my back, whispering softly.

“Well… it’d be a waste to just head back like this. So, what do you say we use it for a trip? Orville, in the Kingdom of Bellita—how about that? I hear their knighthood is amazing. We can come back for next year’s tournament.”

“…Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

My heart was doing flips, but I tried to hide it.

Wrapped in Ray’s arms, I buried my face against his neck, laughing and crying.

At that moment, I felt like the happiest person on the entire continent.

Meanwhile, in the western part of the continent, another Lena was basking in happiness.

The solemn ringing of church bells.

The harmonious prayers of a congregation.

Far removed from the dusty arenas of the north, this place was the Grand Cathedral behind Lutetia, the capital of the Holy Kingdom of Jerome.