Chapter 34: Alice
The Royal Training Grounds, Odri Empire.
The sharp clack of wooden swords colliding echoed repeatedly through the cavernous stone hall, crisp and frantic. Each impact was punctuated by the suppressed, ragged gasps of a young girl.
"Weak backhand!"
Another exchange. The wooden sword in Altlais's hand didn't budge an inch. Alice's sword, however, was sent recoiling high into the air, the vibration leaving her webbing numb.
"Unrefined forehand!"
Altlais stepped forward, his blade pressing down with the weight of a mountain. Alice parried hastily, her footsteps stumbling as she retreated just enough to keep her balance.
"Footwork too loose!"
Altlais's wooden sword lunged toward Alice's ankle. She jumped in a panic to avoid it, losing all semblance of a proper stance.
"Slow reaction!"
The moment she dodged, the tip of the wooden sword was already hovering an inch from her throat.
"Not a single movement is fit for a knight!"
Altlais withdrew his sword, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Alice leaned on her sword, breath coming in shudders. Sweat dripped from the tips of her golden hair, splashing onto the stone tiles beneath her and leaving dark, circular stains. Her chest heaved violently, and the muscles in her arms trembled uncontrollably from overexertion.
This was the second week.
Ever since her father had granted her request to learn swordsmanship, the man standing before her had become her entire world.
Altlais. The strongest Tier 6 Knight in the Empire, Commander of the Royal Knights, and a living legend. His methods were like his reputation—completely devoid of mercy. There was no gradual progression. There was no gentle encouragement.
On the first day: one thousand swings.
Alice finished them. The cost was being unable to even hold a spoon that night; her maid had to feed her dinner.
On the second day: two thousand swings, plus one thousand basic steps.
Alice finished them. The cost was blood blisters on her palms and legs that felt as though they were filled with molten lead.
On the third day: three thousand swings, two thousand steps, and shield-guard drills...
Day after day.
It was tedious.
It was agonizing.
Every fiber of her being screamed in protest.
Several times, Alice had hidden under her blankets at night and cried. Not because of the pain, but because of the frustration. She felt as though her movements would never meet Altlais's impossible standards.
But every morning when the sun rose, Alice appeared at the training grounds exactly on time. Her maids would lance her blisters and wrap her hands in fresh bandages, and she would grip her sword to begin again.
This was the path she had chosen. This was the chance she had begged her father for.
I want to protect everyone. I want to protect Father.
Alice repeated those words to herself every single day.
Today was her first actual combat spar. The result was a total, crushing suppression.
Alice lifted her head, wiping sweat with the back of her hand. She forced a grin, revealing a radiant smile.
"I'll do better! Master Altlais!"
She wasn't discouraged; if anything, she was more excited than before.
Altlais looked into Alice's eyes. He saw no trace of retreat—only a burning battle spirit and pure, unadulterated joy.
Altlais's face remained a mask of indifference, but internally, a ripple of surprise disturbed his calm.
Initially, he hadn't understood the Emperor's command. His sword was for the protection of the Empire; it was a tool for slaying enemies on the battlefield. His experience was an art of slaughter honed in a sea of corpses. How could such things be taught to a sheltered Princess, a "golden branch with jade leaves"?
His disciple should have been the next Great Barrier of the Empire, the next Hero—not a fourteen-year-old girl raised in the luxury of the palace.
But the Emperor had commanded it. So, Altlais obeyed.
He applied a standard ten times harsher than what he used for rookie recruits. He assumed the little Princess would last three days at most. He expected her to run to the Emperor in tears, complaining about how heartless her teacher was. Then, he could return to the Knights, to his familiar position, to prepare for the coming war with the Theocracy.
However, Alice had endured.
One day. Two days. One week. Two weeks.
She never complained. She was never late. She never missed a session.
She felt pain, she felt exhaustion, and she felt the crushing weight of failure when she couldn't master a move. But she never once said "No."
In Alice, Altlais saw something he had only ever seen in the most elite knights. A quality known as Gakugo—Resolve.
Now, Altlais realized he might have been wrong.
Talent. Temperament. Will.
Her Highness met every single one of his requirements for a disciple. In fact, she exceeded them.
Perhaps the Emperor was right.
Altlais raised his wooden sword.
Tap.
The blade patted Alice gently on the top of her head.
"That's enough for today."
"No! Master Altlais! I can still go!" Alice retorted immediately, re-gripping her hilt and shifting back into a defensive stance.
Altlais ignored her protest. He reached out and placed his hand on her head, gently stroking her golden hair. This gesture caught Alice off guard, and all the arguments she had prepared died in her throat.
"Hard work is important," Altlais said, his voice carrying a hint of warmth for the first time. "But do not let your hard work blind you to the world around you."
Altlais turned around, gesturing toward the massive terrace on one side of the training hall. Alice followed his gaze.
The sun was sinking beneath the distant horizon. Its final rays plated the entire Imperial Capital in a layer of flowing gold. The magnificent Royal City, the rows upon rows of houses, the river winding through the urban districts, the silhouette of the distant fields... everything was bathed in that radiant glow.
"Whoa..."
Alice forgot her exhaustion. She dropped her wooden sword and rushed to the stone railing of the terrace.
"It's beautiful! Master Altlais!"
The girl's cheer echoed through the empty hall. Altlais walked over slowly, standing by her side.
"It is," he agreed, looking at the scene. As the Knight Commander, he had stood here countless times, pondering how to use his blade to protect this prosperity.
"Someday, I'll wear the crown and become the Emperor too!" Alice announced loudly, leaning over the railing. "I'm going to make sure this view stays like this forever and ever!"
She turned to Altlais, a massive smile on her face.
"Just like Father!"
Altlais looked at Alice's face. Sweat and dust were smeared together, making her look like a little calico cat. But her eyes were brighter than all the lights of the Capital combined.
Altlais touched her head.
"Then, does Your Highness know the meaning of the Crown?"
"Of course!" Alice answered instantly, her tone full of pride. "Father told me! It's a symbol of responsibility and status!"
It was the standard answer the Emperor had taught her. Altlais nodded. He looked past her head, toward the gold that was about to be swallowed by the night.
"The Crown allows the one wearing it to stand higher than anyone else. But the true meaning of the Crown..." Altlais paused, organizing his words. "Is that when calamity falls from the heavens, the one wearing it must stand forth to block it all. You must ensure your subjects see only the golden hope, never the collapsing sky above your head."
Altlais looked down at Alice, who was looking up at him, listening intently.
"If, in the future, Your Highness forgets the weight of that Crown..." Altlais allowed a small smile to form. "I will personally take it from your head."
Alice immediately reached up to protect the top of her head as if a crown were already there.
"No way!"
"And even if it's confiscated, it won't be you, Master! That's something only my Father can do!"
Altlais didn't speak again. He simply kept his palm resting on her head.
In his mind, the words the Emperor had spoken to him in the Council Chamber resurfaced:
"I need her to learn how to be an Emperor. And when necessary... learn how to judge an Emperor."
To judge... an Emperor.
Altlais looked at the girl before him. She was so young, so pure. He finally felt the true, crushing weight of that command.
The last sliver of twilight vanished beneath the horizon. Night fell over the land. The myriad lights of the Capital flickered on, one by one. Two silhouettes—one tall, one small—stood silently at the highest point of the palace.
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