In the training grounds of Selini, the morning air was sharp with the scent of frost and worn leather.

  Cryssa and Lyra stood across from each other, wooden swords in hand, the polished grains catching slivers of sunlight. The Starlace Order members lounged on the benches around the training grounds, their casual chatter blending with the crisp morning air.

  “Go for it, Lady Cryssa!”

  “Show her your strength, Lady Cryssa!”

  “Oi! I’m the one who pays your salaries!” Lyra snapped, her glare sharp, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

  A ripple of giggles spread through the Order.

  Then, a small, clear voice rang out.

  “Mama! You can win!”

  Roxy stood by the sidelines, her tiny fists raised in the air, eyes sparkling with earnest encouragement.

  Lyra sniffed dramatically, wiping away fake tears.

  “Hwaa… Only Roxy is kind enough to cheer for Mama.”

  Cryssa let out a soft chuckle, her breath fogging lightly in the cold. She adjusted her grip on the sword, the familiar weight grounding her.

  “Are you really sure about this, sis?”

  It was strange, she thought.

  Originally, Lyra’s condition for allowing Cryssa to leave Stelluna and travel the world was that her strength should match Iori’s. If she could stand toe-to-toe with Iori, she would be ready to face the world beyond their walls.

  So it made sense if her opponent was Iori.

  Yet here they were.

  Not Iori, but Lyra, who hadn’t wielded a sword in years, standing before her as her opponent.

  “How can I know she wouldn’t throw the match on purpose? Everyone in the Starlace Order dotes on you. It wouldn’t be strange if Iori lost on purpose.”

  Lyra’s voice was casual, but her eyes glinted with something deeper.

  “Besides…”

  Before Cryssa could react, Lyra vanished.

  “Huh—?”

  No flicker of aura, no shift in the wind, no sound of a footstep.

  Cryssa stiffened as she felt a cold prickle on her neck.

  She glanced down.

  The tip of Lyra’s wooden sword rested against her neck.

  “Maybe you should be worrying about yourself, now that the difficulty just went up.”

  Lyra stood behind her, her breath calm, as if she hadn’t moved at all.

  A hush fell over the training grounds. The Order members stared, eyes wide, mouths open in silent shock.

  Ayla’s voice echoed in Cryssa’s mind.

  (“What… I couldn’t see her movement at all…!”)

  Cryssa’s pulse hammered in her ears.

  “How…?”

  Lyra lowered the sword and walked back to where she had been standing.

  “Do you think our father, the man once hailed as the strongest knight in the kingdom, died simply because he was caught off guard?”

  Her tone was calm, but every word struck like a hammer.

  “Do you think Gareth, who killed our father, fell to my blade just because he slipped up?”

  Lyra stopped and faced Cryssa fully, her eyes glacial and steady.

  “Carelessness may have been a factor. But…”

  She raised her sword and pointed at Cryssa from distance, letting icy aura dance along the length of the wood, frost glinting in the sunlight.

  “Do you think just because a wall stands still, anyone can break it?”

  It was a declaration that when Lyra killed her husband, Gareth, it wasn’t luck, but her skill.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Cryssa’s breath caught in her throat.

  She had heard the rumors back in the academy, rumors that Lyra had once been a prodigy among the knight cadets. Stories she had dismissed as nonsense, because she had never once seen her older sister touch a sword.

  “Then… why?”

  Cryssa’s voice was quiet, trembling with confusion and anger.

  “Why did you stop being a knight?”

  For a moment, Lyra’s expression softened, something unspoken flickering across her eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

  She adjusted her stance, aura flaring colder.

  “I’ll answer you,” she said, her voice low. “Only if you prove yourself worthy of that answer.”

  Cryssa felt the weight of her words settle into her bones.

  Ayla’s voice echoed calmly in her mind.

  (“I think you need to go all out from the start.”)

  Cryssa lifted her sword, letting her own icy aura flow along its length, frost dancing in the morning air.

  A hush fell again as Chika, acting as referee, stepped forward, holding up a small silver coin.

  “Are both of you ready?”

  Cryssa and Lyra nodded, eyes locked, swords steady.

  Chika’s eyes flickered between them before she spoke.

  “The match will begin when this coin touches the ground.”

  She flicked it upward, the silver glinting as it spun in the air, rising, pausing for a heartbeat at the peak.

  Then it fell.

  The moment the coin struck the ground, Cryssa lunged.

  Her boots scraped against the earth as she closed the distance, her wooden sword swinging in a sharp arc toward Lyra’s side. Frost burst from the blade like a breath of winter, trailing shimmering ice crystals in the air.

  Lyra’s blade moved, a casual parry that sent Cryssa’s strike veering away in a spray of frost.

  Cryssa didn’t stop. She pivoted, bringing her sword down in a vertical slash, frost crackling along the blade.

  Lyra blocked it again, her stance barely shifting, her icy aura flaring softly like a calm winter storm.

  Cryssa’s eyes narrowed, sweat beading along her brow. She spun, attacking from the left, then the right, each strike sharp, frost dancing and swirling around them with every clash.

  Each time, Lyra’s sword met hers with perfect timing, blocking without effort, the frost between their blades exploding into tiny flurries before fading.

  The Starlace Order members watched in silence, eyes wide, the only sounds the rhythm of wood striking wood and the hiss of frost.

  Cryssa’s breath came faster as she pressed forward, refusing to slow down.

  She feinted, twisting her body to strike at Lyra’s legs, but the wooden blade was blocked again, frost spraying against Lyra’s boots.

  Finally she leapt back, trying to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling as her aura flickered.

  Lyra stood calmly, lowering her sword slightly.

  “You thought you could leave this territory with skills like that?”

  Cryssa gritted her teeth, raising her sword again.

  “No,” she gasped, “I’m not done yet.”

  Lyra’s expression shifted, a faint, almost smile crossing her lips before returning to normal.

  “Then it’s my turn.”

  Lyra stepped forward, her sword moving like a falling snowflake.

  Although she wasn’t as fast as before the battle began, Cryssa could only barely catch her movements with her eyes.

  Cryssa brought her sword up to block, but Lyra’s blade slipped around her guard, tapping her shoulder with a burst of frost that numbed her skin.

  “Ugh…!”

  Another step, another strike.

  Cryssa blocked once, twice, but Lyra’s third strike found her ribs, sending a jolt of cold through her body.

  Cryssa staggered back, breath misting in the cold air, blood seeping from a shallow cut where the frost had bitten through her defenses.

  “What’s wrong? Is this all you’ve got after underestimating me?!”

  Lyra pressed forward, her strikes steady and relentless, each swing precise, her icy aura a constant, suffocating presence.

  Cryssa tried to parry, but Lyra’s blade slipped past again, leaving another shallow cut along her arm, cold seeping into the wound.

  In the end, she fell to one knee, panting, blood dripping onto the frost-dusted ground, steam rising from her cuts as her aura flickered, struggling to stay alight.

  “I’m disappointed,” said Lyra coldly.

  Around them, the Starlace Order members watched in silence, the air thick with tension.

  “Lady Cryssa…”

  Roxy’s tiny voice called out from the edge of the training ground, trembling.

  “Auntie…!”

  Cryssa admitted to her self, Lyra was strong, perhaps even stronger than Iori. Even though Lyra hadn’t wielded a sword for a long time, her monstrous talent was still there.

  But...

  "No..."

  Cryssa’s eyes closed for a moment. Then, she stood, legs shaking, her sword lifting again.

  “I still can continue…!”

  Her aura roared back to life, frost swirling violently around her, colder, sharper, like shards of ice in a storm.

  Lyra’s eyes widened slightly, and a small, genuine smile tugged at her lips.

  “This ends now.”

  Lyra’s aura roared, bigger and colder than Cryssa’s, like a blizzard against a snowflake.

  But Cryssa didn’t falter.

  Their auras roared, frost crashing against frost, the training ground trembling under the weight of their power.

  Cryssa and Lyra took a step forward.

  Then another.

  And they charged.

  In the breath between steps, time seemed to slow, the surroundings fell silent.

  Frost exploded beneath their feet as they launched forward, blades raised, eyes locked.

  “HAAA!!”

  Cryssa’s shout pierced the cold air as she swung with everything she had, her blade trailing a brilliant arc of blue frost like a comet’s tail.

  Lyra’s blade was poised low, her own blizzard swirling around her feet, her eyes calm and resolute.

  Then in a flash—

  They passed each other.

  A single streak of blue frost carved the air between them, the collision of their blades ringing like a bell that echoed across the training ground.

  They landed, backs to each other, frost falling around them like snow. For a breath, neither moved.

  Cryssa’s wooden blade splintered in her hands, shards of ice-coated wood falling like snowflakes to the ground.

  “Ah…”

  Her knees buckled, and she fell forward, catching herself on both hands, the frost around her dissolving into mist.

  For a moment, everything went silent. Then Chika raised her hand.

  “Lady Lyra won.”

  It didn’t take long before the Starlace Order members rushed forward, not toward Lyra, but to Cryssa.

  “Lady Cryssa!”

  “My lady! Are you okay?!”

  In an instant, Cryssa was surrounded by them, genuine concern etched on their faces.

  “I’m fine…”

  “Oh gosh! You are bleeding here and there and you said you are fine?!”

  “Take a potion first!”

  “No, really… I’m okay…”

  As they fussed over Cryssa, Lyra stood quietly, alone.

  An unexpected single drop of red blood slid down Lyra’s cheek, tracing a thin line before falling onto the frost-covered earth.

  She touched the cut on her cheek lightly, a quiet smile ghosting across her lips.

  Lyra closed her eyes as the cold breeze passed.

  And then, her past came flooding back into her mind.