That night, Lillian sat with Lucas in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, waiting for the others to arrive.
Serendia Academy's cafeteria was absurdly expensive—just the dessert prices alone exceeded what an average family might spend on groceries for an entire day. The dishes looked as though they'd been teleported straight from a first-rate restaurant, crafted by chefs handpicked from all sorts of culinary fields. They prepared the food right in front of the students, transforming the cafeteria into something far beyond its usual definition.
On the other hand, the service was so slow that long lines were practically guaranteed. Every dish was prepared with meticulous care, and naturally, that took time. It was an inefficient system—but it suited nobles just fine. Quick, cheap, and tasty? Only commoners were satisfied with such sentiments. Those with schedules as spacious as their wallets preferred meals that were time-consuming, expensive, exquisite, and above all, worthy.
While they waited for their younger sister, Lucas asked, "So were those intruders today assassins after the prince?"
"No," Lillian replied calmly. "It was apparently a theft attempt. Serendia Academy spends a great deal of money on its furnishings."
"And those dim-witted thieves managed to disguise themselves as merchants, sneak in, and then immediately get knocked out by Zen before being dragged off by security, huh?" Lucas sighed, then shot her a teasing grin. "Still, I guess it's good they fought Zen instead of you, Sis. You would've smashed their skulls."
"I have more self-control than that," she said dryly.
"At any rate," Lucas continued, "this setup is turning out to be pretty inconvenient. Anna and I can't support you much when we're in different buildings."
"You do realize it was arranged like this so you two wouldn't get dragged into anything, right?"
"Yeah, but—"
He stopped when Zen quietly took a seat beside him. Almost immediately, the previously calm cafeteria erupted into commotion. Lillian turned her head to find the source—and saw that everyone was staring at her cousin Lillianna and her classmate Alma.
The moment the two spotted them, they beamed and hurried over, balancing trays of food.
"Lily! Look, Alma and I are splitting our meal! It's my first halfsies!"
"A-Anna! Please keep it down! It's not that big of a deal!"
"Sorry…"
"I can't believe you're so excited about sharing a dish… I'm sorry for my sister, Alma." Lucas patted Lillianna's shoulder, only for the cafeteria to erupt again. "Tch, what a pain. I can't eat in peace with you two around, Anna. Go away." He shooed her, along with Lillian, as if they were the source of all his problems.
"Why? Did we do something?" Lillian asked, genuinely confused.
"Ha… How are both my sisters so dull?" Lucas groaned. "Zen, how do you deal with this?"
"I ignore it most of the time," Zen replied, taking a bite of his chicken.
"Alma, can I leave this to you?" Lucas muttered.
Alma sighed. "You see, Anna… Miss Lillian… To put it simply, you two stand out a lot."
"Because I'm strong?" Anna asked.
"Because I'm on the student council or the assistant medical officer?" Lillian added.
They were aware of their own quirks. There was no need to pretend otherwise.
"Well, that too," Alma said, "but mostly because you're both… girly."
"We're not just girly—we're bona fide girls," Anna declared.
"No, I mean your appearance and mannerisms."
The sisters exchanged a glance. "Is something wrong with our manners? We follow proper etiquette. We were taught from a young age."
"Gah! Enough! Stop talking! Just eat already!" Lucas snapped.
"Cas, it's improper to shout during a meal," Lillian corrected calmly.
Lucas said nothing.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it, Lucas," Alma soothed.
"Thanks, Alma."
Oh? Are they getting along? "How nice," Lillian thought, amused.
As the sisters began eating, a shadow fell over their table. Lillianna felt goosebumps prickle down her arms. She could've sworn she'd kicked the guts out of the person standing before her.
"What do you want, Adrian?" Alma's voice was icy—devoid of even the courtesy one reserves for strangers.
Adrian stood there looking perfectly healthy, as if a skilled healer had stitched him back together in minutes.
"Not you," he said coldly. "I want to talk to Alcott."
Using surnames, even though everyone avoided them at school—Adrian's sense of entitlement oozed out of every syllable. Lillianna and Lucas raised their eyebrows. Alma, meanwhile, was staring off into the distance, her shoulders trembling.
Anger?
No.
She was laughing. Why…?
"As you can see, there are two Alcotts here," Lillianna replied, continuing to eat without hurry. "And we're currently having our meal. Is it urgent?"
"I, Adrian McGregor, am unsatisfied with the results of our fight, and I request a rematch."
Since nothing about that screamed urgent, Lillianna kept right on eating. Zen met her eyes with a look that said he was already exhausted by this nonsense. Alma's whole body was shaking now, her hand pressed to her mouth as she tried not to burst out laughing.
"Hey!" Adrian barked.
"Phew! That was good," Lillianna said, placing down her fork with satisfaction.
"Are you listening to me!?"
"Yes, yes, I heard you." She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "You're unsatisfied with the results of our fight and want a rematch, correct?"
"Yeah!"
"I'm terribly sorry, but that won't be happening."
"What!?" Adrian slammed his palms on the table, rattling the plates. Zen shot him a glare so sharp it could've cut steel.
Adrian froze. Right—his past encounter with Zen had taught him one sacred rule: Never disturb the food.
"Miss Anna," Zen muttered, eyes still narrowed, "this guy is getting on my nerves. Give him an explanation and make him leave, please."
"Hah… Fine." Lillianna sighed, turning back to Adrian. "Adrian McGregor, I understand you personally feel dissatisfied with our match. But I assure you there was no cheating. Three teachers were serving as referees. Or do you mean to question their competence?"
"T-that's not it! I just want a rematch! I got caught off guard!"
"Well, if you were caught off guard," she replied calmly, "you should be grateful it wasn't a real battle. Still, I take it that you want to challenge me—regardless of the format?"
"Exactly! Challenge me fair and square!"
"That won't be possible."
"Are you disrespecting me?"
"No. It's simply the rules." Lillian reached into her uniform and pulled out her dog tags—second in importance only to her own life. The polished metal gleamed under the cafeteria lights.
"Ahh… it's real and beautiful," Alma sighed, finally letting out a tiny laugh.
"I'm a silver ranker with the Turin Guild. Outside of class hours, if you want to challenge a bronze ranker or above, you must be at least one rank below them, no lower. That means only bronze rankers and higher may challenge me."
Adrian's face paled.
"You also need a neutral guild present as an official witness," Lillian continued, utterly unbothered, "and an application fee. In my case, that would be… one million gold."
She reached for her cup, took a quiet sip of hot tea, and sighed contentedly.
"That's the rule. It's serious business—and could cost you your life. Though to someone of your… confidence, I'm sure that's a small price to pay, Adrian McGregor."
Adrian stood there, stiff as a statue.
"So," Lillian concluded, placing her cup down with a soft click, "talk to me again once you've fulfilled these conditions."
Here is a polished rewrite—kept faithful to your meaning, tone, and worldbuilding, with smoother flow, clearer phrasing, and consistent voice:
"Besides, you should be glad it was Anna you lost to," Lucas commented. "If it had been Lily, well… you wouldn't be standing here right now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Adrian snapped.
"She's the strongest among all of us," Lillian replied matter-of-factly.
To emphasize her point, Lillian reached for her own dog tag—a platinum plate, gleaming sharply in the light. Unlike Lillianna's silver, hers radiated a different weight entirely.
"I'm an S-rank adventurer from Turin's Adventurer Guild," she said calmly. "And as you know, in Turin, strength is the only thing that matters."
Adventurer guilds existed to support adventurers: certifying their ranks, facilitating communication, handling trade requests, and providing mutual aid when someone was injured or unable to continue their work.
There were guilds everywhere across the world. In the Castina Empire alone, every domain under state control had its own guild, and densely populated regions often had as many as three. To become an adventurer, one had to undergo a skill assessment and be issued a plate—without it, official adventurer activity was impossible.
But where one obtained that plate mattered greatly. Ideally, people joined the guild in their home region; most were modest but competent.
However, guilds varied as widely as the stars in the night sky. Management, objectives, and standards differed drastically from one to another. Some guilds—particularly those in the capital—quietly exchanged plates or rank certifications for money, usually to help noble families inflate their prestige. Everyone knew it, though few said it aloud. The shiny plates nobles flaunted around their necks were mostly from such capital guilds, and those familiar with the situation couldn't help but snicker behind their backs.
At the opposite extreme stood a place whose plates could make even seasoned adventurers tremble—
Turin Adventurer Guild.
Adrian stood there, utterly at a loss for words. After that encounter, nobody dared make a fuss about the girls' clothes anymore.
However—
"C-Can I sit with you? Alma, Miss Lillian, Miss Lillianna?"
"A-Adrian?"
All three—Alma, Lillian, and Lillianna—stared at him in shock. Their spoons slipped from their hands and clattered loudly against their plates.
"Nice weather we're having," he said stiffly.
Silence.
Lillian wondered if she had scared him off earlier. Lillianna, on the other hand, had definitely annihilated him—body and soul.
"That's a… lovely way of eating…" Adrian added weakly.
…He's attached now?
Then, with a sudden, unsettling earnestness—
"Could you, uh… train me? You can shove my head into the ground with your little feet… Oh—Alma, you're welcome to join too."
Lillian blinked. Alma twitched. Lillianna stared into the void.
…Is he a masochist?