Chapter 𝟚

In this world, anyone who reached 16 had their coming-of-age ceremony, regardless of whether they had graduated from the academy. And in noble society, one’s career path was decided even before that point.

The same had been true for me. I would soon make my debut in high society.

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ll handle things. Now that you mention it, I think the switch needs to happen before Franz has his coming-of-age ceremony.”

If Franz wanted to be a scholar, it was also best for him to make that decision before he turned 16. Father still seemed conflicted, and Mother intervened on my behalf.

“Dear, can’t we just let the children do what they like? I can’t send Franz back to such a place! I just can’t!”

She was crying with Franz in her arms.

“That will mean sending Kyla to Kratie Academy,” the marquess pointed out. “Do you find that acceptable?”

My mother shook her head again. “I don’t want to send Kyla there either. If Kyla truly wishes to be a knight, I’ll have her join the knight order that belongs to my maternal family. I don’t want any of my children to go to such a senseless and dangerous place.”

Father shook his head. “If we want our family name and title to live on, we need someone to graduate from Kratie Academy.”

“Your nephews can go!” Mother insisted, suddenly raising her voice. “Your nephews are also of Vesta blood. They fit the bill.”

He frowned at her.

“That is not possible.”

My father, the current Marquess Vesta, was not on good terms with his younger brother, Norix Vesta.

Father turned away with a deep sigh and tossed his cigarette butt onto the carpet. A servant rushed up right away to sweep up the ashes.

Since my parents couldn’t seem to decide who to send to Kratie Academy, I had to help them along.

“I’ll go to Kratie Academy,” I said. “Send me.”

“Kyla, no!” Mother shouted.

“Mother, Father, I’ll manage just fine there. But you must give me Schuette, which Franz currently holds.”

Schuette was the name of the House of Vesta’s heirloom sword. Only a knighted head of the family could possess it. By asking for it, I was implying that I would become the head of this family.

“But you... You were to take Schitzuro.”

Schitzuro was a spirit shield—the other of the two treasures possessed by the House of Vesta. But now that I was determined to change the future, I couldn’t let Franz have Schuette.

He’s better suited for a shield than a sword anyway.

Pretending to be relaxed, I smiled at my father. “Give it to him instead. The owner of Schitzuro does not need to wield a sword.”

To be honest, I wasn’t particularly keen on becoming a knight. Leading the House of Vesta also did not interest me, and neither did the sword Schuette.

My goal was to let Franz have Schitzuro. To change the future, Franz needed to be the owner of that shield.

Finally, with another sigh, Father said, “It seems nothing I want for my children will come to pass.”

He’ll find it hard to refuse my suggestion, if only for Franz’s sake. I would slowly have to take Franz’s roles from him—including his place as a cadet at Kratie Academy and his role as heir. I would also take Schuette.

This was for Franz, but it was also for our family. In order to avoid the tragedy looming on the horizon, my brother Franz needed to be kept out of the public eye from now on.

That is, until the day he fully owned the shield Schitzuro.

***

On the second day since Franz’s sudden return, Father, Franz, and I gathered in the basement of the Vesta mansion.

Atop an altar was Schitzuro, which looked like an ordinary shield. Schuette, the sword that would be transferred to me, was currently sealed away in Franz’s body.

It would have to be removed.

“You asked me to hurry, so here I am. But I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do.”

Father seemed uncertain, but he had Franz stand in the middle of the magic circle on the floor.

“Hold out the hand that you used to wield Schuette.”

Franz obeyed, extending his soft wrist toward Father. Something resembling a tattoo stood out against the skin on the inside of his wrist. The image depicted a tiny sword—it was no larger than a pinky nail.

This mark was Schuette, the heirloom sword. It would soon be sealed within my body.

My father produced a dagger and made a slight cut on Franz’s wrist. This drew blood, making Franz frown slightly.

“He who is protected by the Spirit King returns the Spirit Sword, Schuette, to the arms of Mother Nature. The seal, bound by blood, shall be undone.”

Franz recited the lines that Father had told him about before this ceremony. Suddenly, a long sword rose out of his wrist.

I stared at it for a while as it floated in the air. It looked completely featureless. Schuette had no decoration of any sort from hilt to blade.

Anyone with Vesta blood could form a contract with it. This incredible sword would appear at one’s beck and call. Schuette’s power increased the abilities of its wielder to their limits.

Out of everyone who had led this family—my father, grandfather, and all my ancestors who’d made their marks in the family annals—almost all of them had used Schuette to enhance their powers.

After my father took Schuette, it was my turn to stand in the circle.

“Now, Kyla. Give me the hand where Schuette will be sealed.”

I held out the back of my right hand, and my father drew blood from the center with the blade. The blood that flowed out spattered on Schuette, which began to glow blue.

“Now say the words exactly how I taught you.”

My heart was starting to race. I kneeled in the center of the circle, held out my hands, and recited the words.

“He who is protected by the Spirit King accepts your power with a bond of blood. This bond shall continue until the Vesta blood is no more, and I swear eternal loyalty to the Spirit King as the giver of this oath.”

This promise of loyalty was why the ceremony was always held in the basement of the mansion in complete secrecy. If the imperial family ever learned of it, they would be understandably outraged.

I don’t ever want to say those words again. They’re so corny.

When I was done, Schuette began to disappear into my body.

There was a light bright enough to flood the room, and my right hand began to burn. Just as I was starting to feel like I would faint from the pain, Schuette entered my body.

There was now a small cross-shaped sword mark on the back of my hand.

I kissed it and muttered quietly, “Schuette.”

The sword rose from my palm immediately and fell into my grip. It had been sealed properly in my body.

I easily swung it around. This was what I’d done to relax my muscles back when I’d learned kendo. Schuette was truly an amazing sword—I could tell by the way it felt in my hand.

However, when I started skillfully swinging it around with one hand, Father and Franz went wide-eyed.

Whoops. I haven’t learned to do that in this life.

“When did you learn to use a sword?” Father asked. “If I’d known you were this adept, I would’ve taught you long ago.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever held a sword. I guess I have talent?”

I’d been an amateur kendo athlete in my previous life. I’d even represented my district in middle school and won. However, even if I explained that, my family would not understand. They were not from my previous world.

“Now it’s Franz’s turn!” I exclaimed, changing the subject and guiding Franz to the middle of the circle.

I’d accepted Schuette, but that wasn’t the most important part of today’s ceremony. No, the most important thing was that Franz would now possess Schitzuro.

“You should have held Schitzuro, not Schuette. You could have become a master, but nobody recognized what you were capable of.”

Astair had said that in the comic, and Astair could be trusted. Franz would become a master for sure if he was given Schitzuro.

Schitzuro, the Indestructible Shield, was protected by the Spirit King like Schuette. But it was different. Schuette could cut anything, but it could not attack the Spirit King.

If one were to fight the Spirit King with it, they would be at an absolute disadvantage.

Schitzuro, however, was truly impenetrable—it could even block the attacks of its creator, the Spirit King.

As a true master of Schitzuro, Franz would be invulnerable.

Franz held out his left inner wrist again. The wound from earlier was still bleeding.

This is going to change the plot massively.

My heart began to thump loudly as I watched Franz and the shield. My father squeezed some more blood out of Franz’s wrist and scattered it over Schitzuro, which began to glow blue, just like Schuette. Schitzuro then began to rise into the air.

Franz kneeled in the center of the magic circle, just as I’d done, and began to say the oath.