“You are… Tianxia, right?”
Sheffil walked up to the girl, his gaze fixed on the longsword in her hands.
Unlike any blade he had seen before, it bore no ornate decorations—just a simple sheath made of wood and iron, housing the sword’s unadorned body.
The hilt was longer than usual, and the crossguard, carved with cold solemnity, extended only an inch wider than the blade itself.
One look was all it took to know: this sword was no ordinary weapon—it was a true masterpiece.
It was exactly the kind of sword Sheffil liked.
Like many men, Sheffil had a natural fondness for weapons.
And as the king of all weapons, the sword had always hit his sweet spot.
This particular sword in Tianxia’s arms, clearly not a product of the Ober Empire, sparked a feeling of love at first sight.
“Yeah, didn’t expect to see you here, Mr. Sheffil.”
Tianxia hugged her sword close and peeked toward the training field behind him.
“Do you come here often?”
“Ah, something like that.”
Dorothy dragged him here at least once or twice a week—so yes, it was fair to say he came here a lot.
“I heard from Dorothy that you’re a transfer student. Are you just looking around the academy today?”
“That’s right, but it looks like I can’t get into the training field without a student card.”
Tianxia mumbled to the gate, frowning.
“They said they couldn’t tell whether I was a student here or not.”
Of course they couldn’t, Miss Heiress.
Sheffil couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her in a black robe, clutching a sword.
Aside from her youthful face, she looked exactly like one of those legendary mentors from Chixia who taught heroes—often with very questionable methods.
“That’s just the school’s policy, Miss Tianxia. Do you like dressing like this?”
Sheffil pointed to her outfit.
“Not really. But I heard you people from the Ober Empire think we Chixia folks always dress like this, so I figured this would make me blend in better.”
Tianxia tugged at the hem of her skirt.
“We usually dress the same as you, except on festivals. Also, my skirt wasn’t originally black—Mother thought black was inauspicious.”
“So it’s a stereotype, huh…”
Sheffil let out a wry smile of realization.
“Well, there’s no need to do all that. Just wear whatever we wear.”
“Really?”
Tianxia tilted her head slightly, her violet, crystal-like eyes staring straight into Sheffil’s with a hint of doubt.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ve got something to do, so I’ll be going now. See you.”
He waved and turned to leave.
Normally, he’d be interested in digging up information on Dorothy’s latest “target,” but dealing with Jianle today had already drained him.
He figured he’d leave Tianxia to Dorothy.
“Going to eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you usually eat at the cafeteria?”
“No, I usually prefer the food street outside campus.”
“So are you going to your usual place now?”
“I don’t really have a usual. I just stop wherever I get tired. And you can drop the ‘Mr.’—just call me Sheffil.”
“Oh? So that’s the kind of guy you are, huh?”
“Haha, never figured you’d be the type to analyze people’s eating habits, Miss Tianxia.”
“Hehe, not at all. I just wanted to get to know you a little better, Sheffil.”
“So enthusiastic, I almost thought you fell for me at first sight… Anyway, why have you been following me since earlier?!”
Sheffil spun around, finally unable to hold it in, and glared at Tianxia, who was smiling politely behind him.
She had been tailing him exactly one and a half steps behind, chatting like they were old friends—even though they’d only met briefly yesterday and barely exchanged two words.
For someone like Sheffil, who considered himself socially awkward, her friendliness was baffling.
“Mm…”
Faced with his question, Tianxia tilted her head.
“Maybe… I really did fall for you at first sight?”
She even threw in a wink as she said it.
“Uh-huh.”
Sheffil nodded coldly.
“And the real reason?”
“Since I didn’t have anywhere in mind, I figured I’d just tag along with you?”
Tianxia held up a peace sign as she spoke.
And there goes the graceful Eastern heiress image… crumbling completely.
“Besides, Dorothy told me yesterday that you’re a total herbivore—no threat at all.”
“Wow, really milking it now.”
Maybe before treating Jianle to a meal, he ought to give Dorothy a couple of punches first.
“If you really want to tag along, fine,”
Sheffil said, his gaze drifting down toward the twin buns on Tianxia’s chest, a mischievous grin creeping onto his lips.
“But you have to…”
“Have to…”
Tianxia took two steps back, clearly spooked by the predatory gleam in his eyes—as if he was about to devour her whole.
“Let me play with your sword! How about it?!”
To be clear: Sheffil really, really, really liked swords.
“Wow, Dorothy wasn’t kidding…”
This guy really was the ultimate platonic male friend.
No wonder Dorothy, his childhood sweetheart, was still only his friend.
With a sigh and a half-smile, Tianxia handed over the sword in her arms.
“Of course you can, but…”
As she spoke, she passed the longsword—still warm from her embrace—into Sheffil’s hands.
“But?”
The moment Sheffil gripped the hilt, his first impression was—“So light?”
Lighter than he imagined.
Possibly even lighter than a dagger made entirely of iron.
It didn’t feel like it was made of wood or metal—what was this thing?
Click.
Suddenly, the scabbard emitted a soft sound, and the entire sword dissolved into a beam of light, shooting back into Tianxia’s hand.
A silver sword-shaped sigil appeared on the back of her hand.
“As you can see, no one but me can wield this sword.”
Tianxia lifted her hand and gave him a gentle smile.
“So you can put it away… but you’ve been carrying it around this whole time?”
“If you had a sword like this, wouldn’t you?”
“…Fair point. Well, you’ve certainly opened my eyes. Anyway, let’s go eat—I’m starving.”
“Hehe, Sheffil, you really are generous.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. If you don’t hurry up, I’ll leave you behind.”
After all, he did get to hold an amazing sword for a second.
And maybe, just maybe, he could borrow it again through Dorothy next time.