Chapter 15 : The Loyal Hound of the Riesenhart part 1

I looked at her for a moment. There was something childish in the way she averted her eyes, only to meet mine again. For some reason, that small stubbornness of hers was… strangely irritating. But I didn't dislike it.

I was about to laugh at how absurd the scene was. But I held back when I saw the seriousness on her face.

—Fine... then lead the way. —I said resignedly.

—W-where to...? —she asked, tilting her head slightly. Curiosity widened in her large eyes. Just then, a strand of her blue hair slipped from her bun and brushed her cheek.

Without thinking, my hand rose and pushed that strand aside, brushing her skin gently.

—… young master… —she whispered, her cheeks dyed red.

I stood there, silently bewildered, before clearing my throat and looking away.

—Sorry —I muttered, scratching my cheek —. My hand... moved on its own.

—W-well… it's fine if it's you… —she replied softly, lowering her gaze shyly.

(...)

Before I could say anything, Alice stepped forward, her voice still trembling a little.

—W-where are we going, young master?

Hearing her embarrassed voice was somewhat amusing, but I couldn't keep dragging this out.

—To the training grounds —I answered firmly, leaving behind this strange tickle in my chest.

***

At the back of the mansion, a vast field opened up before me, stretching toward the horizon. Every now and then I saw servants bustling busily about. The morning dew still beaded on the blades of grass, and a slight breeze carried with it the metallic scent of the weapons on nearby racks.

With each step I took, I felt eyes settling on me. They were like tiny needles, insistent, brushing against my back.

『Master Daven came out of his room...』 『My, how handsome...!』

『I heard he's going to have a duel with young Frederick...』

『Is he coming to train with the mages...?』 『With that skinny body, I doubt it...』

The whispers of the servants were a bit irritating but I said nothing. I kept walking and soon reached what looked like a shooting range. I stood there for a moment, observing. The air smelled faintly of ozone, a subtle aroma that stung the nose—probably the remnants of the last spell. In the distance, columns of smoke rose from other already shattered targets, and I could hear the residual crackle of magic dissipating.

About five meters from the next wooden target, a man stood. He raised his hand confidently and shouted:

«Lightning»

Instantly, a magic circle formed beneath his palm. A blue flash sparked brightly and, in the blink of an eye, a bolt shot out, smashing into the target and splintering it into shards.

—Wow… —I murmured. —So that's what they call a battle mage…? —Alice whispered, fascinated, her eyes shining.

The man turned his face toward us, his dark eyes glinting with an inquisitive light before he began to walk slowly in our direction.

—May I ask what the young master is doing in a place like this?

Now that he was closer, he looked truly imposing. He had broad shoulders, wore a dark uniform that accentuated his build, and his somewhat unruly black hair made him look even more fierce.

—And you are…? —I asked indifferently.

Alice gave a small start behind me, then stepped forward, coming so close I could feel the warmth of her breath as she brought a hand to her mouth to whisper:

—Young master… this is Sir Lucius de Vallemont, leader of the mage squad.

Ah… that name.

The man—Lucius—gave a slight bow, his posture somewhat stiff, his eyes wavering before meeting mine directly.

—My apologies… young sir —he said, swallowing hard and tensing his jaw a bit—. I'm not entirely used to these formalities.

He cleared his throat, placing his hand on his chest, and finally spoke with more firmness:

—My name is Lucius de Vallemont. Leader of the Black Lions, the division of mages in service to House Riesenhart.

For a second I simply observed him.

"Lucius de Vallemont…" I repeated in my mind. As my lips curled into a slight sarcastic smile. Of course I knew that name. Or rather, who in this mansion hadn't heard of him? "The Marquis's dog." A mid-tier celtra, commanding a small elite unit loyal to the family.

«Celtra = battlemage»