Clang!
A slender rapier suddenly struck the ground in front of Kirito with a crisp metallic note. From behind came a gentle and melodious voice.
"Please wait, swordsman."
Kirito turned slightly to look. The voice belonged to none other than the same young girl he had seen earlier, the one who had taken on all the samurai at once.
Kirito had a keen eye for people. This girl wasn't just beautiful in appearance, her every movement carried an elegance and grace that couldn't be faked. Her poise was unmistakably noble. He could tell that her status was far beyond that of the so-called noble heirs surrounding them.
And those bright eyes now fixed on him, there was an unmistakable glimmer in them. Kirito quickly guessed what it meant. It wasn't some melodramatic "love at first sight." No, from her earlier swordplay, Kirito could already tell she was deeply passionate about the way of the sword. Her refined movements and trained posture showed years of dedicated practice. Beneath that soft expression was a strong and competitive spirit rare for girls her age.
Her presence in this hall filled with men only reinforced that fact. And now, having witnessed how easily Kirito had disarmed his opponent with a single draw, her interest was piqued.
Yes. This girl wasn't drawn to him romantically, she had simply found a worthy opponent.
However, not everyone could read between the lines as Kirito could. Her intense gaze, so full of curiosity, was easy to misinterpret by the others.
One of the young noblemen, alarmed, stepped forward and shouted, "Princess, this man's identity is unclear! You shouldn't approach him!"
He shot Kirito a warning glare, his meaning clear: this girl's status was sacred, far beyond the reach of commoners like him.
The girl, however, seemed hesitant. Her lips parted slightly. "Wait, I…"
She might be the princess of the Land of Fire, but she was also just a girl, a girl who longed for genuine connections. Yet because of her lofty status, people either distanced themselves or treated her with stiff formality. Friendships were rare. Even if she couldn't make friends, she loved swordsmanship. And now that she had finally found someone interesting, someone strong, she didn't want that gap of status to scare him away.
The nobles around them looked at Kirito with smug contempt. Surely, now that the girl's identity as the princess had been revealed, this unknown outsider would tremble in fear, bowing and scraping like the rest.
But to their surprise, no such thing happened.
Kirito's expression remained completely unchanged. Those four heavy words, "Princess of the Land of Fire", didn't move him at all. He glanced at her calmly, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes.
"I see," he said plainly.
Just two words. No fuss. No dramatics. As if learning the name of someone he'd never meet again, interesting, perhaps, but ultimately unimportant.
"Eh…?" The princess blinked in surprise. For a moment, she stared at Kirito, her brows raised. Then the tension in her face faded. She let out a long breath.
"…Thank goodness."
Kirito hadn't treated her any differently. That alone brought a joyful glimmer to her eyes.
Smiling, she quickly asked, "Then… may I request-"
"No." Kirito cut her off.
He already knew what she wanted to say, and declined without hesitation.
"I understand you're looking for someone who can fight you seriously… but I'm afraid my sword style isn't suited for casual sparring." His voice was steady, and his tone offered no room for misinterpretation.
It was true. Kirito's sword techniques were designed for assassination, lethal, swift, and brutal. The strikes weren't meant for sparring, they were for killing. Such techniques weren't something one could use lightly in friendly duels.
"Oh… I see…" The princess couldn't quite understand what he meant by "not suited for sparring." But she could tell his refusal wasn't due to her status, and that alone was enough to ease her heart.
Still, her passion for swordsmanship wouldn't let her give up so easily.
She stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the rapier that had struck the ground. Gripping it with both hands, she looked Kirito dead in the eyes and declared earnestly:
"Even so, I still wish to cross swords with you. Please, I ask you!"
Kirito opened his mouth, ready to reject her again. But then he saw her eyes, eyes full of sincerity, longing, and a subtle vulnerability.
"…Please."
He stopped.
She'd come this far. It wasn't even a difficult request.
"…Fine," Kirito said calmly. "I accept."
"Thank you!" The princess beamed, a radiant smile blooming across her face. Without hesitation, she gripped her sword tightly and assumed a proper combat stance.
Kirito, meanwhile, added casually, "Set your stance. Come at me with full strength. You'll only have one strike."
"Eh?!" She blinked in disbelief, cheeks puffing up in protest. Even someone as gentle and well-mannered as her couldn't help but feel indignant when her skills were underestimated, especially in something she loved dearly.
Still, she took a deep breath and did exactly as he said.
With a solemn expression, she readied her sword, pouring every ounce of focus into this one strike.
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