Seweina drew her longsword and casually spun it in a flourish, her movements fluid and graceful.
“Where’s your weapon?”
Rex looked around, then simply picked up a piece of wood he had sawed earlier from beside the wall and weighed it in his hand.
The feel was just right, the length suitable.
“I’ll use this.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t have any weapons or anything like that around here. This piece of wood suits me fine.”
“I’m using an iron sword, and you’re picking up a wooden stick?”
Her voice carried a hint of displeasure at being underestimated.
“Do you look down on me, or do you really want to die?”
“Neither.”
Rex twirled the wooden stick in his hand.
“I just don’t think it’s necessary to use real weapons. Besides, didn’t you say it? ‘To the point of contact.'”
Seweina let out a laugh that seemed more like she was being mocked.
She shook her head, tossed her longsword aside, and bent down to pick up a wooden stick as well.
“By doing this, you make it seem like I’m bullying you. So I’ll switch to wood too. Will you have a proper match with me?”
As she spoke, she immediately assumed a stance, the wooden stick held horizontally in front of her.
In that instant, her entire demeanor changed.
Gone was the earlier casualness and teasing, replaced by a chilling killing intent.
That was the aura of someone who had truly been on the battlefield and killed.
“Are you ready?”
“Your stance is decent, but a bit too flashy.”
Rex didn’t say it out loud, just matched her stance with his own wooden stick held horizontally, and nodded.
“Come on.”
Seweina’s first strike was fast and fierce, aimed straight at Rex’s shoulder.
No feints or probing, it was a genuine killing move right from the start.
If that strike connected, a broken bone would be the least of it.
Rex sidestepped, the wooden stick brushing past his clothes, stirring a gust of wind.
Seweina didn’t stop.
The moment the first strike missed, she had already twisted her wrist, swinging the stick horizontally towards Rex’s waist.
Each move seamlessly connected to the next, giving the opponent no chance to catch their breath.
Rex stepped back half a pace.
With a crisp crack, the two wooden sticks collided.
Seweina had put about forty percent of her strength into this strike.
An ordinary person would have their hand numbed by the impact even if they blocked it, but Rex’s hand was steady, the stick not wavering an inch.
“Interesting.”
She snorted softly, her attacks growing fiercer.
Strike after strike, pouring down like a storm.
Each strike carried the sound of wind, each move a killing technique.
Her swordsmanship wasn’t the fancy stuff practiced in sparring arenas; it was real skill honed in battle, paid for with lives.
Yet Rex dodged every single one.
His body seemed to predict her movements.
Every time her stick was about to land, he had already shifted position.
Each dodge just barely made the stick graze past him, almost by a hair’s breadth.
“Are you just going to keep dodging?!”
Seweina’s voice carried a hint of irritation.
Her attacks grew faster and faster, but so did her inner shock.
This man’s evasion technique was faster than her swordsmanship.
It wasn’t frantic dodging, but effortless evasion.
As if he could completely read her every move, knowing where she would strike before she even made a move.
What disturbed her more was that she could sense that if Rex were to get serious, she probably wouldn’t have any advantage at all.
This thought dealt a blow to her pride.
She was the Commander of the Northern Iron Cavalry.
Her swordsmanship was fed with the blood of enemies on the battlefield.
In the entire North, no one could last ten moves under her sword.
Yet now, she had struck nearly thirty times and hadn’t even touched a corner of his clothes.
“Damn it!”
Her movements began to get impatient. Instead, it revealed a flaw that Rex noticed.
Just as Seweina was about to swing her next strike, Rex suddenly leaned forward, stepping into her offensive line.
His wooden stick came up from below, precisely flicking onto her wrist.
Seweina’s wrist went numb.
She instinctively pulled back to defend, but Rex had already closed in.
His movement was so fast she hardly saw it.
She only felt a breeze by her ear, then a very faint clink.
A strangely shaped brown earring fell from her right ear, tumbled in the air, and landed in Rex’s outstretched palm.
The courtyard fell silent.
Seweina stood still, her eyes fixed on the earring in Rex’s hand.
“You..!”
“I win.”
Rex looked down at the earring in his hand.
It had a brown wood grain texture, the edges worn smooth and shiny, as if it had been worn for many years.
It looked completely unremarkable.
“You… you knocked off my earring?!”
Seweina’s voice trembled.
Her voice carried an emotion Rex had not anticipated at all.
He looked up and saw that Seweina’s eyes were already red. On that sharp and heroic face, now there was a look of grievance.
Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her nostrils slightly flared, and something was glistening in her eyes, but she held it back fiercely, refusing to let it fall.
This pitiful appearance created a huge contrast with the icy killing intent she displayed when swinging her sword.
Rex was dumbfounded.
His mind was full of question marks.
What was going on?
“You… you bastard!”
Tears rolled down her cheek, and Seweina quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
She turned her back to Rex in a flash, her shoulders trembling slightly.
Rex stood there, still holding that earring, completely at a loss.
“Um… your earring?”
Seweina didn’t turn around, but reached back and snatched the earring from his hand.
The movement was fast and fierce, her fingernails almost scratching his palm.
She lowered her head, clutching the earring in her palm, but her shoulders were still shaking.
Rex had absolutely no idea what to say now…
Or what to do.
‘The people in the Empire Capital call him a waste? Are their eyes blind?’
She wiped her eyes forcefully and turned around.
“You…”
Rex finally found the right words.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!”
Seweina’s voice was muffled, with a nasal tone.
“Who was crying? I wasn’t crying!”
“…I never said you were crying.”
Seweina didn’t reply.
She stood with her back to him for a while, her shoulders gradually calming down.
Rex watched her back, his mind still churning.
What’s wrong with this woman?
Hurt pride?
There’s no way a dignified Northern Commander would cry over something like this.
It’s not like she lost a fight; she just had an earring knocked off by a wooden stick.
And it wasn’t even broken.
Even if she lost, she wouldn’t cry.
Unless…
That earring had some special meaning to her.
“That earring?”
Rex started to ask.
“Don’t ask! It’s none of your business!”
Seeing how agitated she was, Rex decided not to press further.
He turned and walked towards the Ancient Castle, intending to get a tissue or handkerchief for her to wipe her face.
But when Seweina saw him turn, thinking he was leaving, she immediately chased after him.
“Stop right there!”
Seweina caught up to him and grabbed his arm.
“You haven’t answered my question yet!”
Her grip was strong, her fingers digging into his arm, as if afraid he would escape.
“?”
Rex looked down at his arm being grabbed.
“Didn’t I win? Why do I still have to answer your question?”
“I don’t care! You have to answer me!”
“Sorry, but I refuse.”
“If you don’t answer, I’m not leaving!”
Rex looked at her expression and suddenly realized something.
This woman was serious.
She wasn’t joking; she would follow through on her words.
If he didn’t answer, she might actually stay here and not leave.
“…What exactly do you want to know?”
Seweina stood in front of him, blocking his way.
After struggling to calm herself down, she looked up at him.
“Why are you hiding your true strength?”
Her voice was much calmer than before, but her sharp, heroic face was now full of stubbornness.
“You’re clearly this strong, so why do you let those people call you a waste?”
Rex looked at her eyes, still red-rimmed.
“What they say has nothing to do with me. I live for myself. Why should I care about their opinions?”
Seweina watched his back disappear into the foyer and decided to follow him with big strides into the Ancient Castle.
Meanwhile, Hilda, who had witnessed everything from the second-floor window, seemed satisfied as if she had achieved her goal and came downstairs.