The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Kastian Villa’s dining room, casting warm patches of light across the polished mahogany table.
Ailiya was still in her standard maid uniform, her silver-white bob cut neatly arranged, the hairclip at her ear gleaming softly in the morning light.
When Leo pushed open the dining room door, that was the sight that greeted him.
She stood by the window, the morning light falling behind her, casting a slender, straight shadow on the floor.
He paused for a moment, then walked over to the table and sat down.
“Morning.”
His voice carried the hoarseness of a sleepless night.
Ailiya glanced at the faint dark circles under his eyes but said nothing. She simply pushed a glass of milk, at just the right temperature, toward him.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“A little.”
Leo picked up the milk and took a sip. The warm liquid slid into his stomach, easing the tension that had gripped him all night.
“After all, I’m about to get beaten up on stage tomorrow. It’s only natural to be a bit nervous.”
He set down the glass, his fingertips absently tracing the rim.
“I talked it over with Mother last night. She thinks I should try to avoid fighting tomorrow, use stalling tactics to save face, and not go head-to-head with those noble brats from the capital.”
Ailiya set down the tray in her hand and stood by the table, looking down at him.
“And what do you think, Young Master?”
Leo was silent for a few seconds.
When he looked up, his eyes carried a seriousness that was different from his usual demeanor.
“I want to fight.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was exceptionally clear.
“I know Cedric’s bastard has set some kind of trap for me. I also know that in his eyes, my current strength isn’t even worth noticing.”
“But if I don’t even have the courage to face him on stage, I’ll never be able to hold my head up in the capital again.”
He paused, then lowered his head to look at his own hands gripping the cup. His voice took on a lighter tone.
“Still, if I do get knocked flat, just remember to drag me back.”
Ailiya stared at him for a few seconds.
Those ice-blue eyes held neither mockery nor pity.
“Since you’ve made up your mind, I have no objections.”
She picked up the tray again and turned toward the kitchen.
“Since you’ve decided to fight tomorrow, you can’t waste today. Finish your meal, then come to the backyard.”
Leo stared at the back disappearing through the doorway for a long moment. Then he lowered his head and wolfed down the breakfast in front of him.
After breakfast, the Villa’s backyard.
The morning light slanted across the stone floor, making the temporary boundary lines exceptionally clear. From a distance, the sounds of the city stirring awake—carriages and horses—drifted faintly.
Ailiya held a wooden practice sword with its sharp edges sanded down.
She didn’t exchange pleasantries or give him any time to mentally prepare.
“Your opponent tomorrow isn’t a goblin. It’s a noble trained in proper combat.”
Leo swallowed hard, tightening his grip on the practice short staff in his hand. His palms were sweating slightly.
“Then how should I fight?”
“Don’t let them get the distance to chant high-level magic.”
Ailiya raised the wooden sword level, the tip angled toward the ground.
“Use every means to close the gap. As long as you’re close enough, a mage loses their advantage.”
“Even if all you can do is flail wildly, getting close enough gives you a chance to break their casting rhythm.”
Leo nodded, took a deep breath, and began to circulate the magic power within him.
Following the technique Ailiya had taught him, he infused mana into the surface of his staff while forming a thin water shield in front of himself.
The next second, he pushed off the ground and charged at Ailiya.
At the same time, in the shadows of the backyard corridor, two figures stood side by side, each with a cup of steaming black tea at hand.
Butler Carl stood quietly, his gaze fixed on the two figures exchanging blows.
Behind him, the butler who had followed from Fengyue City leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice, a tone of old friendship in his words.
“Long time no see. You’re still the same—always watching everything.”
Carl gave a slight smile without turning around, nodding gently.
“It’s been a while, Fitch.”
Under the corridor, two white-haired old butlers stood side by side, each with a cup of steaming black tea nearby.
Their eyes were fixed on the golden-haired boy in the yard.
At that moment, Leo was breathing heavily, forced back step by step by the wooden sword.
Carl watched for a long time before speaking slowly, a note of emotion in his voice.
“That kid has changed quite a bit.”
He paused, as if recalling something.
“Last time I saw him, he was still a little brat chasing butterflies in the garden. Now, in the blink of an eye, he’s holding a staff and trading blows.”
Fitch merely nodded slightly, his tone flat.
“The Young Master has been working hard recently.”
Carl didn’t respond.
His gaze lingered on some of Leo’s subtle movements.
As Leo retreated, he instinctively held the short staff horizontally in front of his right ribs to guard them, while his left hand pulled back slightly into a starting stance for a parry.
Carl took a sip of his tea, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“The kid’s trained in close combat too?”
“Mm.”
Butler Fitch acknowledged.
“He just learned recently.”
Carl turned his attention back to the training ground and watched for a long while.
In the sunlight, the silver-haired maid was deflecting the boy’s frantic attacks with an almost instructional ease. Each block was perfectly timed—neither hurting him nor giving him a moment to catch his breath.
Carl was silent for a moment, then slowly shifted his gaze to the black-and-white figure standing across from Leo, speaking in a calm tone.
“But what interests me most is the person standing opposite him.”
A note of undisguised admiration crept into his voice.
“That demi-human maid… she never chanted a single spell. Her mana infusion was completely instantaneous and terrifyingly precise. That requires an extremely high level of magic control.”
He paused, his tone becoming more analytical.
“Chantless casting the whole time. That’s something even many academy-trained mages can’t do.”
“She’s a demi-human. Who taught her such skills?”
Fitch was silent for a long time before finally speaking.
“I don’t know either. Madame recruited her personally. Since she joined, she’s been dutiful and never made a single mistake. As for what she did before…”
He stopped, as if weighing each word.
“Madame didn’t ask, and I don’t know.”
Carl turned his head to look at his old colleague, whom he hadn’t seen in years.
A complex light flickered in those turbid yet still sharp eyes.
“And you? All these years in Fengyue City—have you been well?”
He paused for a moment, then his tone suddenly turned slightly ambiguous.
“When Madame left the capital back then, I wanted to go with her. But you volunteered and stole the chance from your old subordinate. You left without even a word.”
His voice dropped.
“I always thought you’d gone to that remote place willingly to share Madame’s burdens…”
Carl didn’t finish.
Butler Fitch stood there expressionless, neither admitting nor denying.
Behind his lowered eyelids, something stirred faintly, then quickly settled back into stillness.
Carl didn’t press further. He simply stroked his snow-white beard gently, then turned and slowly disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.
***
The next day.
In front of the Villa, a black carriage bearing the Kastian family crest had already come to a halt.
The coachman sat upright on the driver’s seat, waiting for the order to depart.
Ailiya stood by the carriage door, still in her immaculate black-and-white maid uniform. Her silver-white bob shimmered softly in the morning light.
A silver family crest pin was fastened to Leo’s collar.
Though he tried to keep a composed expression, the slight stiffness in his shoulders betrayed his nervousness.
He stood on the Villa’s steps, looking at the carriage, and took a deep breath, as if trying to push all his unease back into his lungs.
“Young Master.”
Ailiya’s voice came from behind him.
“If you don’t get in now, you’re going to burn a hole through the carriage with your stare.”
Leo snapped out of it and turned around.
He saw Ailiya’s ice-blue eyes watching him calmly. No urging, no mockery—just waiting for him to take that step, as usual.
He pulled the corners of his mouth into a slightly bitter smile, then strode down the steps and climbed into the carriage.
Ailiya followed right behind.
The wheels began to turn slowly, rolling out through the Villa’s iron gate and heading steadily toward the Royal capital.