The training courtyard was not just a yard of stone—it was a stage of history. Its tiles were scored with countless scratches and chips, silent testaments to duels fought under the burning sun and the pale moon. Crimson banners stretched high along the walls, fluttering gently in the afternoon breeze. The faint tang of steel lingered in the air, as though the walls themselves remembered every clash of blade and every drop of blood.
But today, the vast arena was silent. No clashing steel. No shouts of soldiers drilling. Just the sharp cries of crows circling high above.
And in the middle of the quiet field stood a boy.
Asura bounced on his bare feet, his silver hair glinting faintly in the sun. In his hands, he clutched his wooden katana with all the reverence of a treasured toy. His small frame looked almost comical against the backdrop of the massive training grounds, but his golden eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Training! Training! Yay!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, swinging the katana in wild arcs that whistled clumsily through the air. He spun once, nearly tripping on his own feet, then corrected himself with a flourish. "Take that, and this, and—hiyaaa!"
The sound echoed off the high walls, exaggerated, theatrical, entirely unconvincing.
Selene stood several paces away, her arms folded neatly across her chest. The wind tugged at her maid's uniform, carrying strands of her black hair across her calm, violet gaze. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched the boy's display, unimpressed.
"Young master," she said finally, her voice firm but not unkind, "you asked for lessons. So please, take this seriously."
Her words carried the same weight as the banners above them, steady and immovable.
Asura skidded to a halt mid-swing, puffing out his cheeks in exaggerated protest. He jabbed his tongue out at her like a sulky child. "I am serious! Look—this is my serious training face!"
He scrunched his features into a comically fierce glare, narrowing his eyes until his expression looked more like a constipated squirrel than a warrior.
Selene arched a single brow. "…I see."
She stepped forward, her presence calm, unshaken. "Then show me your stance. A sword, even a wooden one, is not a toy."
Asura straightened quickly, his grin faltering just slightly. He shifted into a mock stance—left foot forward, knees bent, katana raised awkwardly in both hands. To the untrained eye, it was the clumsy mimicry of a child.
But his eyes told another story.
She thinks she's teaching me, he thought, the corners of his lips twitching. But really, this is my chance. My chance to test how much I can push… without giving too much away.
His golden gaze flicked to Selene, studying her posture, the way her hands rested against her arms, the quiet sharpness in her stance. She's not just a maid. I've known that for a while. The way she moves… the way she watches me…
He tightened his grip on the katana, masking the gesture by wobbling it slightly, pretending to struggle with the weight.
If I play dumb, she'll lower her guard. And then… I'll see just how strong she really is.
"Okay, okay!" he said out loud, puffing his chest and forcing his voice into a cheerful lilt. "Serious face now!"
He widened his stance, raising the blade again, this time closer to proper form. To anyone else, it might have looked like a lucky coincidence.
Selene's eyes narrowed faintly.
For a moment, the wind carried only the sound of banners snapping overhead.
Then Asura whispered under his breath, too low for her to hear: "Alright, Selene. Show me what you've got."
✦ Selene's Instruction
Selene's footsteps were measured as she crossed the courtyard. In her hands was a simple practice sword, the kind used for teaching new recruits. The blade was dulled, the hilt wrapped in worn leather, but the way she carried it gave it weight far beyond its humble form.
She stopped a few paces before Asura, her violet eyes calm, her presence steady.
"First," she said softly, her tone more mentor than maid, "stance."
She slid her right foot forward, left foot back, knees bent slightly. The tip of the practice sword angled downward in front of her, her frame poised and balanced like a predator ready to strike.
"Keep your feet apart. Your weight evenly distributed. Balance is everything. Without it, even the strongest warrior will fall."
Her words echoed across the empty courtyard, as if the stones themselves had heard them countless times before.
Asura tilted his head, golden eyes studying every detail—the angle of her legs, the placement of her arms, the subtle shift in her shoulders. Then, without hesitation, he mimicked her perfectly.
Too perfectly.
His small frame snapped into alignment, his stance precise and balanced. The wooden katana in his hands looked natural, almost comfortable, as though he had done this a thousand times before.
Selene's brows furrowed. She studied him, her gaze narrowing slightly. "…You've done this before?"
Asura blinked at her, golden eyes wide with feigned innocence. He tilted his head, scrunching his features into a childish pout. "Nope! Just copying you!"
His voice was light, but inside, his heart pounded with excitement. She caught that? Tch. Gotta tone it down. Still… she's sharp. Way sharper than the knights I've seen lurking around.
Selene's gaze lingered for a moment longer, then she exhaled softly. "Very well. Next, grip."
She raised her sword, both hands wrapping around the hilt. Her fingers were firm but relaxed, her wrists supple, the weapon seeming less like a tool and more like a natural extension of her body. "Hold firmly, but not stiff. If you grip too tightly, the blade will fight against you. A sword must become an extension of your arm."
Asura nodded quickly, mimicking her once more. His small fingers slid into place without a single flaw. His wrists adjusted with a subtle flick, his grip perfect, as though his muscles already knew what to do.
Selene's eyes narrowed further.
"…Quick learner," she muttered under her breath, too softly for most to hear. But Asura caught it.
He grinned innocently, tilting his head again. "Ehehe… I'm just smart!"
But inside, his thoughts burned with exhilaration. She doesn't know the half of it. My system… my skills… even if I hide it, I'm already beyond this level. But still—watching her move… I can learn a lot from her too.
Selene shifted her stance once more, clearly deciding to push the lesson further.
And for the first time, Asura realized this might not just be a game of pretending—this was going to be a test.
✦ The Spar
Selene's grip shifted almost imperceptibly, her weight shifting to her front foot. Her violet eyes, usually calm and soft, sharpened with a faint glimmer of calculation.
"Come at me again, young master," she said, voice even but edged with something sterner now.
Asura tilted his head innocently, rocking back on his heels. "Again? But I'm just a kid! I'll lose every time." He puffed his cheeks dramatically, trying to sell the act.
But his fingers itched. His body remembered the swings from last night, the techniques he had mimicked, the rhythm of blades he had once only seen in anime and games. I can do better. I want to do better.
No. He clenched his jaw. Not yet. If I show her too much, she'll know. And if Grandfather hears…
He forced himself into another clumsy charge, dragging his feet just enough to look untrained. His wooden blade came down with another exaggerated arc—wide, predictable, weak.
Clack!
Selene deflected with ease, barely moving her wrist. Her eyes stayed on him, unblinking. "Too open," she repeated, her tone a shade cooler than before.
Asura stumbled back, overacting his loss of balance, wobbling comically before regaining his stance. "See? Told you I'm bad at this!" he said brightly.
Selene didn't smile. She didn't correct him this time.
Instead, she moved.
A single step forward, her blade sliding into a low guard before snapping upward in a clean, controlled thrust. It wasn't wild enough to hurt him—but it wasn't the careful strike of someone humoring a child either.
It was a test.
Asura's eyes widened. His instincts screamed at him to react. His feet shifted without thought, sliding perfectly into position as his body twisted. His wooden katana shot up in a block that was too fast, too clean—
Clack!
The sound rang sharp through the courtyard.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Asura blinked, panic surging in his chest. Crap! That was too good! Too natural! He forced a wobble into his legs, letting his stance falter at the last second, pretending the block had been a fluke.
Selene's eyes narrowed.
The look wasn't anger. It wasn't even surprise. It was sharper than that—curiosity laced with suspicion. She hadn't missed the precision in his first movement before he forced the stumble.
"…Strange," she murmured again, almost to herself.
Asura's heart pounded. He scrambled for words, plastering on his most innocent grin. "What's strange?" he asked, tilting his head like a clueless child.
Selene's gaze lingered on him for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, with deliberate calm, she straightened her stance, withdrawing her blade.
"Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly.
But her eyes told a different story.
Inside, Asura's mind spun. She knows. Maybe not everything… but she knows I'm hiding something.
The wind picked up, tugging at the banners above them, carrying the sharp scent of dust and stone. The courtyard felt suddenly heavier, as though the duel between maid and boy had shifted into something more.
This was no longer a lesson.
It was an unspoken battle—between the truth Asura refused to reveal, and the suspicion Selene would no longer ignore.
✦ The Slip
Selene lunged again. Her blade cut a clean line through the air, a testing strike, sharper than before but still far from lethal.
Asura's golden eyes widened. His mind screamed Trip! Stumble! Miss on purpose!
But his body betrayed him.
Instinct surged through his limbs, honed by nights of practice in the shadows of the castle. His feet slid into a perfect sidestep, his weight shifting effortlessly. His wooden katana rose at just the right angle, the motion smooth and decisive.
Clack!
Selene's strike was deflected. In the same breath, Asura's blade slipped forward, stopping just short of her side.
His movement was flawless. His balance steady. His eyes sharp.
It was not the motion of a fumbling child. It was the counter of someone who knew the language of the sword—someone who understood rhythm, timing, precision.
Silence swallowed the courtyard.
The banners above snapped in the breeze. Dust stirred across the stone tiles.
Selene froze, her violet eyes widening. For the first time since they had begun, her calm composure cracked. "…That was not the move of a beginner."
The words rang heavy, more accusation than observation.
Asura's chest clenched. His mind went blank for half a second before panic roared back to life. Crap, crap, crap! Too clean! Too real!
He stumbled backward deliberately, throwing his arms out in exaggerated clumsiness. "W-Whoa—!"
Thud!
He landed flat on his rear, wincing but forcing a shaky laugh. He waved the katana around as if it weighed too much. "Ow! Haha, see? I tripped! Totally tripped! That was just… um… a lucky swing!"
The excuse felt weak even as it left his lips. His cheeks burned under Selene's gaze.
She lowered her blade slowly, her violet eyes locked on him. She said nothing at first, only studied him—long, searching, as though peeling away the layers of his act.
Asura's heart thudded painfully in his chest. He forced a grin, scratching his cheek with his free hand. "Ehehe… I'm really bad at this, huh?"
Selene exhaled quietly, the sound closer to a sigh than anything else. She lowered her practice sword fully, the leather grip creaking softly in her hand.
Then, to his surprise, she crossed the short distance between them and crouched gracefully at his side. Her cloth gloves brushed lightly against his small hand as she steadied him.
"…You are full of surprises, young master," she said softly.
Her tone was not cold. Not scolding. But neither was it dismissive. Suspicion lingered in her eyes, tempered by something gentler—concern. Affection.
Asura blinked up at her, caught between relief and dread. She's not yelling. She's not telling Grandfather. But she saw. She knows I'm not normal.
Selene studied him a moment longer before her expression softened. She reached out, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from his face the way a mother might comfort her child.
"You hide it well," she murmured, almost too softly for him to hear.
Asura stiffened. "H-Hide what?" he said quickly, feigning cluelessness.
Her smile was faint, unreadable. "Your talent."
The words struck deeper than any blade.
Asura's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to protest, to insist again that it was luck, that he had tripped, that he wasn't special. But the words died on his lips.
Selene rose to her feet, offering him her hand to help him up.
"Come, young master. That is enough for today." Her tone was smooth again, her expression calm, as though nothing unusual had happened.
But the weight of her earlier words lingered.
"…You are full of surprises."
Asura stared at her hand before taking it, his chest tight.
She knows. Maybe not everything… but enough. And she's letting it go. Why?
His golden eyes flicked up at her as she smiled faintly, leading him back toward the inner halls.
And though she said nothing more, Asura knew this spar had changed something between them.