The Lost Clover

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The sun blazed in the clear sky, its rays filtering through the thick canopy of towering trees surrounding Narin. Shadows shifted across the uneven forest floor, broken by scattered patches of light. The breeze carried the earthy scent of pine and soil, rustling the leaves above and brushing softly against the rugged terrain. In the distance, the dark mouths of hidden caverns peeked from the mountainsides, adding a quiet stillness to the wild beauty of the forest.

However, this idyllic calm shattered as two figures emerged, their youthful energy contrasting with the peaceful surroundings. One teen wielded flames that danced in shades of red and orange, lighting up the area with their fiery glow. The other commanded a stream of ethereal blue light, cool and mesmerizing.

Their mana swords crashed together in a familiar dance until, eventually, the two fighters broke apart.

Emilia took a steady breath, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Running out of steam already, Kazuya?" she teased, voice light but laced with challenge.

"HAH! Hardly!" Kazuya's laughter burst forth like a furnace's roar. "The real fight's only just beginning!" Fire danced in his eyes as he raised his flaming blade toward her.

Emilia rolled her shoulders, leveling her mana blade at him, her stance poised. "Hmph. You talk a big game, moleface, but can you deliver?"

Kazuya drew himself up, gripping his blazing sword until its flames flickered fiercely. "Brace yourself, Emilia! I'm coming at you FULL FORCE!" His voice rang with fiery conviction.

A wry smile tugged at Emilia's lips. "Announcing your moves? Not exactly the smartest tactic..."

"Strategy doesn't matter if the attack's strong enough!" Kazuya bellowed, charging forward with a roar that set the nearby foliage trembling.

Their mana-fueled blades collided with a thunderous crack, sending sparks and raw magical energy pulsing outward. Emilia's ethereal sword fought against Kazuya's flaming one, the sheer pressure threatening to shatter her weapon. She winced, feeling cracks spiderweb across the blade's surface. At the last moment, she blinked away, leaving Kazuya to lunge into empty air.

Recovering quickly, Kazuya turned, wearing a cocky, triumphant grin. "Your speed's good, but where's the power, Emilia? Your attacks are like a pesky breeze, nothing more!" he crowed, flames intensifying around his blade.

"Let's see if you keep that smug grin when I knock you flat, Moleface!" In a blue flash, she vanished and reappeared behind him, her blade raised.

But Kazuya was already moving. As if guided by instinct, he spun, his sword meeting hers in another explosive clash. The shockwave rattled the branches above them, leaves scattering in swirling patterns.

"How the hell-?!" Emilia hissed before blinking away.

Kazuya's grin widened. "HAH! You should know better by now! Your parlor tricks won't help you here!" Flames leaped higher along his blade, their glow painting his face in fierce reds and golds. Without hesitation, he rushed in once more, his voice echoing through the clearing: "NOW PREPARE YOUSELF, FOR HERE I COOOOME!!"

"Smug bastard! I'm gonna kick your ass!" Emilia yelled before blinking to his left flank. Again, he blocks. Frustrated, Emilia continues striking, trying to break his defense. Yet, every strike was parried, no matter how fast or aggressive they were.

Kazuya smirked, which made Emilia's eyes widen. A massive wave of orange-red flames suddenly erupted around him, violently bursting outward and consuming the air with intense heat and flame.

The force of the blast sent Emilia flying. She tumbled across the rough forest terrain before slamming into one of the many trees surrounding them. After a second, she came to, murmuring, "The hell...?" she pushed herself up on one elbow. "Since when could he do that?" 

She staggered upright, her grip tightening around her mana blade. The remnants of Kazuya's fiery assault lingered in the air, casting a red glow through the dissipating smoke. Her eyes darted through the haze, searching for any sign of him, waiting for some kind of attack. Instead, he stood calmly amid the fading embers, a somewhat goofy grin plastered across his face.

"Ugh," Emilia rolled her eyes, "You should've pressed the advantage!" she called, her voice laced with annoyance. "I was wide open, and you're just standing around?"

"Come now, Emilia! You know I believe in fair play! I would never strike you down while you're unprepared! HAHA! That would tarnish the glory of our battle!"

Emilia's brow furrowed, a harsh line drawn between her eyes. She lowered her magic blade slightly but did not ease her stance. "In the world of Magic Knights, no one will show you such mercy. They'll exploit any weakness without a second thought. Your enemies won't simply wait for you to be ready."

He tilted his head slightly, the grin softening but not disappearing. "Maybe so, but I don't want to win because I took advantage of a cheap shot. I want to earn my victories fair and square."

She sighed. "Honor won't protect you from a surprise attack or an enemy who doesn't share your code."

Kazuya shrugged lightly, the flames around his mana blade diminishing but not extinguishing. "Perhaps, but I won't compromise who I am. If I start cutting corners now, what stops me from losing myself entirely?"

"Then you adapt," Emilia shot back, her voice serious. "Be ready for anything, even if it doesn't fit neatly into your code. Dying with a dagger in your back won't prove a damn thing."

Kazuya raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his scorched face. "Aww, are you worried about me?" he teased. "Well, don't be! Nobody will get the drop on me. After all, I'm accustomed to all your cheap tricks now."

"Cheap tricks, huh?" Emilia muttered, her tone low and charged. She spread her hand wide, blue mana condensing into a shimmering glow that danced around her palm. "So that's how you want to play it, Moleface?" A fierce smile curved her lips, determination shining in her eyes. "Ready to watch me finish this?"

Kazuya met her challenge with a confident laugh. "I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!"

A sphere of brilliant light formed in her palm, pulsating with raw power. With a swift motion, she unleashed it toward Kazuya. The ball of light shot forward like a raging comet, illuminating the battlefield with a soft blue glow.

"HAHAHA!" Kazuya barreled, "I've seen this trick a thousand times! Surely you can do better!" He raised his flame blade, eager to cut down the oncoming spell. But as they met, the glowing projectile fractured into three separate orbs, slithering around his counterstrike like serpents. Kazuya's eyes went wide as they struck him, letting out a low grunt. The force of the spell was so great it shot him across the grassy plain, rolling and tumbling before finally coming to a halt.

Meanwhile, Emilia wasn't faring any better. Fatigue had set in, and her wounds were screaming with every movement. She staggered toward her friend; her singed brown hair swayed in the wind, and her charred armor clattered as its straps began loosening. By the time she reached him, he'd just finished emptying the contents of his stomach. With a groan, Emilia collapsed beside him, away from the vomit.

The once-vibrant landscape was now etched with scorch marks, torn earth, and the lingering scent of ozone and smoke. The wind rustled what remained of the vegetation, drifting over their battered forms as they struggled to catch their breath.

Kazuya turned to Emilia with an excitable grin. "That was fun!" he exclaimed between breaths. "You must've learned that cheap trick when I wasn't looking! Threw me completely off guard!"

"Call it whatever you want, Moleface," Emilia said, her tone laced with pride. "It still knocked you flat, just like I knew it would."

Sitting up, Kazuya let out a spirited laugh that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Even so, he forced a grin in her direction. "I'll admit, that was the most impressive one you've pulled off so far!"

Emilia's blue eyes narrowed. "That massive explosion of fire you unleashed earlier—I've never seen you do anything like that in our previous spars." She said suspiciously, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Are you holding back on me?"

Kazuya chuckled, though the sound quickly became a pained grunt as he gently pressed a hand to his ribs. "Nonsense! I only just mastered that technique recently," he said, shutting his eyes and steadying his breath. A faint glow flickered around him, subtle and easy to miss. "It's a skill passed down through the Tatsumi bloodline. You compress as much mana as possible before releasing it in a sudden burst. Since it's raw mana, you can adapt it however you like. I, of course, infused it with my flames." He puffed out his chest with pride. "It's something only a Tatsumi can pull off!"

"Obviously. Only an idiot would try that move. Anyone else would've gotten instant mana down. You're lucky your flames allow you to absorb mana, or that shit wouldn't work."

Kazuya threw his head back with theatrical flair, ignoring the pull of pain in his ribs. "HAHAHA! Luck, you say?" he boomed, eyes brimming with his usual fiery spirit. "I need no such trifles! Even if my flames didn't absorb mana, that blast would've blown you clear across the field! My unstoppable might is simply that overwhelming!"

"Right," Emilia deadpanned. "And yet you still fell for my 'cheap' trick."

His expression shifted, and he suddenly stood, summoning his flame sword in a blaze of fiery mana. "Enough talk!" he declared, eyes shining with renewed fervor. "If you have enough energy to insult me, you can still fight. On your feet, Emilia!"

She waved him off, shaking her head. "You've sucked me dry. I'm just about tapped out, and I'd rather not risk mana down again."

Kazuya gave a short, teasing laugh. "Perhaps you should try not getting hit by my flames so often, then?"

Emilia's eye gave the faintest twitch. "If I weren't so exhausted, I'd knock that Mole right off your face."

Kazuya chuckled before letting his blade's flames vanish. Stepping closer, he extended a hand. "We should head back. If I'm not mistaken, the nuns should be wrapping up lunch by now."

Emilia took his hand and hauled herself up but the second weight pressed on her feet she stumbled. Kazuya quickly caught her and took over, draping her arm over his shoulder before she could protest.

"I-It's not that bad," Emilia insisted, face flushing slightly. "Just give me a minute. I'll be fine to walk soon."

Kazuya's tone was surprisingly gentle, though still warm with energy. "There's no need to pretend, Emilia. Not many can stand against my flames for so long. You've earned this rest."

"I-I said I'm fine," she grumbled, leaning more heavily into him than she cared to admit. "Just a bit dizzy, that's all." With Kazuya's steady support, they began their trek back toward Narin.

The world gradually settled into a calm hush as they continued along the dirt road. The trees whispered as the wind blew in the afternoon light, and a few cautious birds ventured back to their usual perches, their gentle chirps distant. For a while, neither Emilia nor Kazuya spoke, each caught up in their own thoughts.

Then Emilia remembered something important and let out a low groan. "Fuuuck. Once Sister Teresa sees us like this, she's going to have a field day," she muttered, already dreading the stern lecture.

Kazuya, battered though he was, still carried himself with that unmistakable confidence. "We've been scolded before, and we'll be scolded again," he declared, voice carrying a hearty warmth. "But isn't that exactly why we push ourselves this far, Emilia? If we never unleash everything during training, how can we hope to stand out among all those who'll gather at the exams?"

Emilia nodded, her tone earnest as she leaned into him for more support. "Exactly. Some might call us reckless, but we'll surpass the rest by pushing ourselves like this. Once we get our grimoires tomorrow, we'll train even harder. After that, it's off to the capital. We'll finally start turning our dreams into something real."

A spark ignited in Kazuya's eyes. "The Crimson Lion Kings—that's where I'm heading!" His voice rose with conviction, almost as if announcing it to the world. "They're known for raising the kingdom's fiercest flame wielders! If my fire is to roar truly, I must learn from those who understand its heat best!"

Emilia threw him a skeptical look. "Don't get too full of yourself. A lot of captains are from the highest noble echelons. They're picky, and from what I've heard, they rarely give commoners a chance."

Kazuya waved off her concern, his tone unwavering. "You forget, Emilia—I'm no ordinary commoner. I'm a noble, too, even if I hail from another kingdom's aristocracy. So I'm familiar with how they think. And after hearing about the captain of the Crimson Lions, I'm certain he'll be swayed. After all, he values strength above all else, and I have that in droves!"

"Just be ready for anything, Kazuya," Emilia cautioned, her tone measured but firm.

Kazuya let out a warm, confident laugh. "I'm always ready for anything, Emilia! You should know that by now!" he declared. "Now stop fretting so much! Excessive worry is terrible for the heart!"

Before Emilia could retort, a voice called out from above. "Well, look what we have here. You two look like you've been through the wringer. Mother Teresa's not going to be happy about this."

Both teens looked up to see a Magic Knight dressed in a Grey Deer cape hovering over them on his broom. His relaxed posture belied the sharpness in his calculating purple eyes as he observed their scorched clothing and worn expressions.

"Hey, Sebastian," Emilia greeted. "I assume Sister Theresa sent you?" She asked with a hint of dread.

Sebastian nodded. "You're correct." He crossed his arms. "She was worried you two would go overboard again, and it seems she was right to be concerned. You two look as if a pack of inferno boars trampled over you."

"Come now, we're fine! It looks much worse than it is!" Kazuya insisted. He glanced over at Emilia for support. "Right, Emilia?"

"Right. It's not as bad as it looks." She agreed.

Sebastian heaved a weary sigh, his gaze lingering on their battered forms. "Suuure," he said sardonically. "I'll inform Mother Teresa that you're on your way back. However, you can explain your condition to her yourselves." With that, he mounted his enchanted broomstick and ascended into the sky, quickly flying out of sight.

"I'm already getting a headache..." Emilia groaned internally as she and Kazuya continued down the winding path.

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As they made their way downtown, the townsfolk's murmurs swirled around them. Their tattered clothes and visible injuries drew stares and hushed whispers from every corner.

"Looks like those two were at it again," an elderly man remarked to his companion.

"Won't they ever learn?" a woman sighed, adjusting the produce basket on her hip. "One of these days, they're gonna seriously hurt themselves."

The murmurs followed them as they continued deeper into town—a blend of supportive comments and gentle admonishments. The townsfolk knew of their exceptional abilities; even without grimoires, Emilia and Kazuya had demonstrated remarkable magic potential. Their dedication was inspiring, but their frequent injuries were a source of concern for everyone.

"Emilia! Kazuya!" shouted Mrs. Alder from her bakery, "Make sure you get those scrapes looked at!"

"We will, Mrs. Alder. Thank you." Emilia replied with a tired wave from her free hand.

"Don't fret! We'll be all healed up in no time!" Kazuya added confidently as she waved to them.

As they approached the heart of the town, the grand silhouette of the church came into view. Its spires reached toward the sky, and the evening sun cast a golden glow upon the stained-glass windows. Usually, the sight of home brings comfort, but today, it was a source of stress for Emilia. Kazuya, on the other hand, didn't have a care in the world.

Sister Theresa stood prominently in front of the church, her arms crossed and feet tapping impatiently. Her glare fixed on the approaching pair.

"Oh boy. She looks pissed." A nervous sweat built on Emilia's brow as they grew closer.

Meanwhile, Kazuya was unfazed. His usual wide grin remained firmly in place as he cheerfully waved toward the awaiting nun. "Hello, Sister Teresa!" he called out, his voice echoing through the courtyard.

Sister Theresa wasted no time. "I've heard the two of you have been busy," she began sharply, eyes scanning their battered, soot-covered forms. Her brow twitched. "Just look at you two! How many times have I told you not too far!? Have you no restraint!?" Her voice boomed across the courtyard.

Kazuya, ever confident, stepped forward with his usual carefree grin. "We're just fine, Sister! Emilia's just tired, and I feel great! Sure, we have some minor cuts and bruises, but that's the price of training!" His smile grows. "Besides, what's the worry? You'll just heal us like you always do!" he said lightly.

Sister Theresa, her lips curving into a thin, dangerous smile—a smile that sent a chill down Emilia's spine. "Is that right?"

Her eyes widened, and she looked to Kazuya, who didn't seem to notice the brewing storm, "If he weren't my support, she'd have beat the shit out of him."

"Yes, it is!" he said brightly. "Now, if you don't mind, would you please cast those healing candles of yours?" he asked expectantly.

The elderly nun paused, inhaling a slow, measured breath as she offered a brief, silent prayer. "Lord above, grant me the patience not to tear this fool limb from limb." The moment passed with a small sigh.

"Well, It seems the two of you have grown far too comfortable relying on me and the other sisters to fix you up after your reckless behavior." Taking a deliberate step closer, her eyes locked onto them both. "Well, that ends today," she declared. "From now on, neither I nor the other sisters will heal any injuries caused by your overtraining. Also, you'll both be on laundry duty for the next two weeks."

Emilia's brow furrowed in defiance. "I don't get it. Isn't the whole point of training to get stronger? Why should we hold back? What's the purpose if we don't push past our limits?" she argued passionately.

"I agree!" Kazuya nodded. "We need to push ourselves to grow stronger with every fight! Holding back defeats that purpose!"

The nun pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. "Damn that man for influencing your reckless behavior," she muttered under her breath.

Before either Emilia or Kazuya could defend themselves, she delivered a swift, familiar chop to the tops of their heads. Both recoiled, Emilia shooting a glare of pure annoyance at the old nun while Kazuya merely rubbed the spot and offered a good-natured grin.

"I need no lecture from the likes of you two on how to train!" she snapped, her voice harsh. "Have you already forgotten I was the She-Leopard of the Crimson Lions? I taught Fuegoleon Vermillion himself when he was nothing but a boy! In fact, back then..."

Emilia tried not to roll her eyes as the familiar rant began. This was the umpteenth time they'd heard the She Leopard lecture, and it was starting to wear thin. Though Kazuya didn't mind it as much as Emilia, he always got excited about her past tails with the Crimson Lions.

"...Even during training, you must be careful! If you hurt yourselves too badly, how can you hope to improve? You both must learn restraint. I've seen far too many people in my time push themselves too far, never to recover."

She looked between them, her face softening, "I do this because I care about you. You're both so promising, but it's been getting worse these past few weeks. The way you tear yourselves apart isn't sustainable, and it will catch up to you."

As though reading their thoughts, Sister Theresa gave them a pointed glare. "Oh, and if I catch either of you using magic again to speed through your punishments, there'll be hell to pay. Understood? You're doing this the old-fashioned way—elbow grease alone."

Emilia's jaw dropped, her frustration boiling over all the while Kazuya laughed. "But Sister, that'll take forever! We get our grimoires tomorrow! We need to start training with them as soon as possible to be ready for the Magic Knight Entrance Exams!" she protested, her voice rising with desperation.

Sister Theresa raised an unimpressed brow. "Well, you should've thought about that before tearing yourselves apart like this," she said calmly. "You'll have time to train in between loads. Consider it a lesson in balance and restraint."

Emilia's face twisted. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, her voice low but angered.

"Don't give me that tone, girl!" the elderly nun shot back, "You two did this to yourselves! Maybe this time, the lesson will finally stick!"

Emilia bit her tongue, though her expression betrayed her desire to argue further.

Kazuya, on the other hand, looked contemplative. "Laundry duty..." he hummed. "Honestly, I don't think that's enough!" He declares. "We can handle much more than laundry, Sister Teresa! If this lesson is to stick, shouldn't you make it extra challenging?"

Emilia's eyes widened, and her head snapped toward him in horror. "Are you insane!? Shut up!" she hissed, her free hand twitching at her side. "Is he really asking for more chores?!"

Sister Theresa curled an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, so you think laundry duty isn't enough?" she said, her voice menacingly low.

Kazuya set his hands on his hips, chest puffed out with his usual blazing self-confidence. "Absolutely, Sister! We can handle anything you throw our way! Challenge accepted!"

Emilia's stomach twisted. "Challenge accepted?" She felt a vein throbbing in her temple. "Kazuya, I swear I'm going to—!"

"Alright then," Sister Teresa interrupted, her arms crossing. "Since you're so eager, I can add more. On top of laundry, you can scrub the dining hall floors and wipe down every pew in the chapel. That should keep you both busy."

Kazuya grinned, eyes shining. "HAH! Perfect! We'll get it done in no time!"

Emilia spun on him, her frustration boiling over. "Would you please stop it already?" she practically snarled. "We don't need more chores!"

He shot her a bright smile. "Come now, Emilia! If we can't handle a little extra work, how can we handle the Magic Knight Exams? Think of it as extended endurance training!"

Her fists trembled at her sides, and she wondered if strangling him right here would count as "overtraining."

Sister Teresa exhaled heavily. "I'll expect all these tasks done properly. Should I find any corner left unclean, you'll do it twice."

Emilia glared daggers at Kazuya, who still looked like he might burst into triumphant laughter at any second. She'd have punched him if she weren't leaning on him for support.

Seeing her frizzled look, he gave his shoulder a light bounce, causing the girl to bounce along with it. "There's no need to pout! This is nothing for us!"

Emilia scowled. "What about our training!?" she argued, "How are we supposed to find the time for it now!?"

Sister Teresa lifted a hand, silencing any further protest. "You'll have plenty," she said firmly. "Back then, I had young Fuegoleon Vermillion dust every inch of the Vermillion manor from top to bottom for weeks, and he still found ample time to grow stronger in between. If he could do it, so can you."

She briefly glanced at the sky, noting the sun's position. "I've errands to run. You two—relieve Sister Campbell. She's doing the laundry, which is now your responsibility. Then inform Sister Nicole that you'll take over dining hall floor duties. Once that's done, bathe, eat, and get to work! Do I make myself clear?"

Her glare intensified, pinning them both in place. Emilia could almost feel the air tighten around her, and a cold bead of sweat slipped down her brow. "Does her glare have to be so terrifying?"

Kazuya swallowed hard, mustering a shaky smile that rattled both him and Emilia. "W-We'll see to it!" he said with forced cheer. He bowed, making Emilia bow with him in a half-stumble. "H-Have a good trip in town, Sister Teresa! And, uh... th-thank you for the lesson! We'll take it to heart!"

"You better," Sister Teresa warned, her voice dropping a notch. "Or there'll be much worse in store for you. Which, of course, there won't be a next time... right?"

They straightened slowly, with Kazuya nodding vigorously. "R-Right!"

Emilia remained silent, her anger and embarrassment warring on her face. Kazuya shot her a nervous look. Sister Teresa's gaze switched back to Emilia, and her brow arched in warning.

"Right, Emilia?" she asked, her glare narrowing.

A tense moment passed before Emilia exhaled sharply through her nose. "Yes," she relented curtly.

"Good," Sister Teresa said, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Now hurry. You two reek."

Without another word, she turned and started into town, leaving them in uncomfortable silence.

However that silence didn't last long when Kazuya suddenly burst out laughing.

"Well! I guess we—OWW!!" Kazuya's sentence ended in a startled yelp as Emilia's foot came crashing down on him.

"You dumbass!" Emilia yelled, her brow furrowing, "Why'd you have to make it worse for us?! We should be training with our new grimoires, but no, you had to bait her into giving us extra chores! The hell's wrong with you?!"

Kazuya laughed heartily, though he carefully slid his foot out of range, wary of another stomp. "I was getting bored of the same old routine, so I figured I'd spice things up," he said with a grin. "Think about it! If we can handle this punishment, we'll be leagues ahead of Fuegoleon. All he had to do was dust—that's child's play!"

"That's not the point, idiot!" Emilia shot back, her frustration boiling over. "I don't want to waste my time scrubbing floors or folding underwear when I could be getting stronger with my grimoire!"

"It'll be fine," Kazuya assures, his carefree grin still shining. "Like Sister Teresa said, we've got time. The exams are still seven months away—this punishment will only last a few weeks. We've got more than enough time to hone our skills."

Emilia huffed. "This is so stupid. All this because you're fat mouth..."

Kazuya only laughed before they entered the church's large wooden double doors.

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As they continued down the corridor, Emilia motioned for Kazuya to let go, her shoulders squaring as she finally mustered the strength to stand alone. Several children snickered and murmured as they walked by, commenting on their appearance. Many in the church knew of their routine with Mother Teresa and weren't afraid to poke fun at their scoldings.

Eventually, they reached the laundry room, where Sister Campbell carefully gathered the dried laundry from several straw baskets stacked across a wooden table. Pausing mid-fold, she turned to see Emilia and Kazuya's battered forms, and a frown quickly followed.

"Hello, Sister Campbell!" Kazuya started with a grin and a wave, "We've come to relieve you of your laundry duties!"

"Must you always yell?" Emila remarked, massaging her temples. We got in trouble for our training again, so Sister Teresa ordered us on laundry duty." Her tired eyes then switched to Kazuya, "And thanks to this idiot, we also have to scrub the dining room floors AND dust the pews."

Kazuya's smile only grew in response to her groaning.

Sister Campbell set aside the laundry she had been folding."Oh, you two..." she sighed while opening her orange-bronze grimoire, "I know you're eager for the exams, but if you're not careful, you may really hurt yourselves." Without warning, she traced her fingers over the intricate runes on the page and began a soft, melodic chant.

"Bell Magic: Whispering Bells," she intoned softly. A warm, bronze-colored aura pulsed around her grimoire, and in an instant, small ringing bells materialized around Emilia and Kazuya. Their gentle chiming spread across the pair's wounds, coaxing bruises and cuts to mend.

"W-Wait!" Emilia sputtered, "We're not supposed to be healed—it's part of our punishment!"

Kazuya nodded, although he couldn't hide the relief on his face.

After a few more seconds, Sister Campbell snapped her grimoire shut, making the bells disappear. "Don't worry," she said softly. "I'll handle any fuss that comes my way. You know I hate seeing you two battered like this."

She turned and retrieved two plush white towels from a nearby stack. "Why don't you head to the baths? I'll tell Sister Nicole about those extra chores," she added, passing the towels into their waiting hands.

"Bless you, Sister..." Emilia nearly cried while Kazuya bowed deeply, echoing her thanks.

With fresh towels in tow, they quickly head for the baths, eager to wash off the grime of the day's sparring.

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Inside the Women's communal bath, she removed her armor, each piece falling to the ground with a soft clang. Her body, sculpted by relentless training, bore the marks of her and Kazuya's grueling sparring sessions. Fading bruises and fresh scrapes mingled with the sheen of sweat that clung to her skin.

Unwrapping the bandages around her chest, she let out a long sigh of relief, stretching her arms above her head. "Damn, that feels so nice," she murmured.

She placed her armor and bandages in a neat pile by the wall before heading toward one of the open bathing stations. Pulling up a wooden stool, she turned the knob to the hottest setting, watching as steaming water cascaded into the basin. The heat was a welcome balm, and she took her time rinsing away the grime and tension of the day.

After finishing her rinse, she moved to the large, central bath. Steam swirled in the air as she slid into the water, and she let out a quiet groan as the heat enveloped her. Leaning back against the smooth stone edge, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander.

She thought back to her first days at the church and how much she'd changed since then. Before, she was a shell of herself—silent, withdrawn, and consumed by guilt. Every waking moment, she relived the horrors of her village: the screams, the flames, and her helplessness as she became a pawn to that cursed magic. The weight of her failure crushed her, but what haunted her more was the choice that led to it all. That damned gem. If only she'd rejected that shady man's offer and sent him on his way, maybe—just maybe—her village would still stand, and her Mother, Will, and his father would all still be alive.

Thankfully, the nuns didn't allow her to drown in those thoughts. Day after day, they chipped away at the walls she'd built. Eventually, with their persistence, Emilia opened up—though only to a select few. No one else knew the true story of her origins. To them, she was just another orphaned girl plucked from the forbidden zone after tragedy.

That's likely how it would've stayed if not for a surprise visit.

She was wandering the corridors of the church when the door to the men's restroom swung open—smacking her square in the face.

"Oh shit—didn't see ya there, squirt," came the gruff apology. The towering man responsible exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke, peering down at her with an unbothered gaze.

Emilia vividly recalls that moment even now as she soaks in the hot bath. Back then, she looked up to find the man who had helped rescue her long ago towering over her, looking unimpressed.

"OHMYGOSHIMSOSORRY!" her younger self blurted in a single breath, jumping upright. She bowed her head- practically disappeared into her shoulders.

"Whoa, take it easy there, short stack," he said, surrendering his hands. "I'm the one who knocked you down. Are you alright?" He paused to take a drag on his cigarette.

"Y-Yes," the girl stammered, struggling to steady her voice. "I-It's nothing," she insisted, forcing a shaky smile.

He exhaled a plume of smoke, angling it away from her, and offered the faintest grin. "You're a tough one," he remarked. "That's good."

He stood there for a moment, staring at the girl. Yet she remained paused, too nervous to speak or even move. Then, the man turned and started away. "See ya', kid. Glad you're doing better," he said, continuing without any further explanation.

Now, leaning back into the bath's warm embrace, Emilia let her gaze wander to the dimming ceiling light. "Looking back, I'm pretty sure he was waiting —waiting to see whether I wanted answers." A flicker of resolve crossed her face. "And by God, did I want them."

The small girl slapped her face, snapping herself out of it before hurrying after him. She caught him in the courtyard, desperation in her voice, "W-WAIT UP! PLEASE, SIR!"

The man turned slowly, one brow lifted in mild curiosity. "There a problem?"

"N-No!" she blurted, shaking her head so quickly it made her dizzy. "I just..." She paused, gathering courage before continuing, "I was wondering—could you tell me your name?"

Yami took a slow drag from his cigarette, sparing her a sidelong glance. "Yami Sukehiro," he said, smoke curling around his words. "Captain of the Black Bulls Magic Knight Squad."

Just then, a man with unruly light-brown hair and droopy purple eyes appeared, pestering a lady who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. After receiving a slap to the face, he gave up with a long sigh.

"Worth a shot, I guess..." he muttered, rubbing the red handprint on his cheek. He turned to Yami, "Oh hey, Captain. Did you finish your—" He trailed off when he noticed Yami's attention was elsewhere. "Uh, everything okay—?"

The small girl interrupted him. "Yami Sukehiro of the Black Bulls," she repeated, locking her gaze on him. There was a raw, desperate hope in her eyes. "Did you capture them? The ones who destroyed my home?"

Yami paused, releasing one last puff of smoke before flicking his cigarette aside. He looked down at Emilia with a half-lidded, no-nonsense gaze. "Sorry, kid. We searched high and low, but whoever those creeps were, they wiped out every trace. Left us with nothin' to go on. But we'll find 'em eventually; just gotta wait until they make another move."

The girl felt something inside her tighten. "So that's it?" she thought, her heart pounding. "Wait? We just... Wait? Those monsters are free to keep doing...whatever they want."

 The question burned in her mind: "Are they not a priority? Why isn't this urgent to everyone else?"

"Anyway," Yami continued, turning away, "don't waste your time stuck on that. Your life's just starting—learn to move on." He glanced at the young man beside him, "Oi, Finral. Open a portal, would ya? I finished emptying the tank, and now I'm ready to fill it back up again."

But Finral hesitated, his eyes locked on the small girl trembling before them. Emilia's hands clenched into fists, and a storm brewed behind her gaze. She clenched her jaw so hard she had to force the words out.

"Move on?" Emilia's voice wavered, her anger seeping through. She stared up at Yami, eyes glossy with an onslaught of rage and sorrow. "You're telling me to move on after everything they did? They destroyed my home and everyone in it. The things they made me—" Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard. "And you want me to just let them go?"

A low, tremulous chuckle escaped the girl's lips—barely noticeable at first—until it warped into strange, unhinged laughter. Those who hadn't been paying attention before now turned their heads, eyes locking on her as she broke down. Finral and the others shifted uneasily, but Yami stood as solid as ever, a new cigarette hanging from his mouth, watching her intently.

The laughter quickly died away, leaving her breathing hard. Then she lifted her gaze, and something dark and determined flared behind her eyes. "You must be out of your damn mind if you think I'll let it end like this," she said, voice low with barely contained rage. She locked eyes with Yami. "NEVER!!" she suddenly shouted, stunning all around her. "If none of you will go after them, then... then I will!" she declared.

Recalling that moment, Emilia inwardly cringed. "I was such an idiot back then," she thought, wishing she could tell her younger self to calm down and think.

Yami raised a brow at the girl's outburst, an almost idle curiosity in his stance. "Oh yeah?" there was a dismissive edge to his voice, "And how exactly does a squirt like you plan on doing that?"

Her mouth opened—she wanted to declare her intentions, lay out how she'd avenge her village—but she realized she had no idea where to begin. No plan, no leads. Her words failed her.

"That's what I thought," Yami said, narrowing his eyes. "Hate to say it, kid, but with how you are now, you'd just die a pointless death if you tried to go after them."

"So what!?" Emilia snapped, her voice hoarse with frustration. "I just give up and let them get away with it?"

"Did I say that?" Yami countered, arching her brow. His unexpected reply surprised both her and the onlookers. "Listen," he continued, "I'm not here to tell you how to live, but if you're dead set on this, you'll need a lot more than raw emotion."

She remembered it all too well. The instant Yami unleashed his power; her legs buckled as if a thousand baskets of pot potatoes had been dropped onto her back. A cold sweat broke out on her brow, and she could only stare at the ground, limbs trembling under the overwhelming pressure.

Yami stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. "Feel that?" he asked. "It's just a fraction of my magic power. Look at you—practically pinned to the ground. Weak. There's no way in hell you'll even scratch the people you're after... assuming you ever find them in the first place."

Her blood boiled at his words. Teeth clenched, she forced her gaze upward, meeting his eyes despite the suffocating pressure. Around her, others felt the force of his magic. Strangely enough, it looked as if they bore it worse than she.

"Be as mad as you want, kid, but it's the truth," Yami continued, unimpressed. "Until you can stand under this pressure without collapsing, you're nowhere near ready to face them. Understand?"

Suddenly, the crushing force vanished, allowing Emilia and everyone else to gasp for relief. Her chest heaved as she fought to compose herself. "H-How?" she rasped, still unsteady. "How can you be so strong?"

"I trained," he said simply. "I trained 'til my body gave out, and when I hit my limit, I pushed even harder." He lifted a hand and made a fist, muscle shifting under his skin. "That's how you get strong—by going past your limits."

The girl's demeanor softened as she absorbed Yami's words. Her tense posture relaxed, and a thoughtful look crept across her face—until he ruffled her hair, drawing her back to the moment.

"You've got a lot of potential, kid," he remarked. "All that mana you're lugging around—it's impressive. But that's all it is right now: potential. I've seen plenty of people waste it and die pathetic deaths later on. That'd be a pain to watch again, got it?"

She swallowed, nodding slowly. "Yes... I understand." Then, as the pieces fell into place, a small, eager smile formed. "I'll train until I break—then train even harder. I'll push past my limits, too, and show you just how strong I can become!" Her smile then twisted into something dark, an uncharacteristic malice flickering in her eyes. "And then," she hissed, "I'll hunt down every single one of those bastards who destroyed my village. I'll have them begging for death by the time I'm done with them."

Yami's brow twitched a bit at her sudden change, as did others around him, but he offered a half-smile nonetheless. "Heh. I look forward to seeing that, kid."

He glanced over at Finral, who was standing off to the side, transfixed. "Well?" Yami asked, leveling him with an intimidating look. "Are you gonna stand there all day, or will you open that portal?"

"A-Ah! N-No problem, Captain Yami!" Finral stammered, quickly summoning a swirling, gray gateway. Through it, Emilia could see what appeared to be the Black Bulls' headquarters—a chaotic jumble of buildings jammed together yet somehow standing tall.

Yami stepped through with Finral trailing after him. As he walked, he gave the girl a casual wave goodbye, saying nothing else. She watched the portal fade, her wicked grin from before turning into a determined one.

In the present, Emilia's lips curled into the same grin as she continued her soak. "Just you wait," she whispered under her breath. "I'll show you how much stronger I've become since that day... bastard."

"But even so," she murmured, letting out a slow breath, "Vetto's magic was on a different level. There's no way I can face him like this. I have to grow stronger... much stronger."

Her mind wandered back to the punishment, and her frustration ignited once again. "That's why I can't waste time on ridiculous chores," she grumbled, sinking deeper into the bath. "Damn that Kazuya and his big mouth..." She shut her eyes, trying to quell the swirl of irritation, only to have a stray thought drift in.

"It's strange," she mused, staring at the ripples forming around her. "How did Mom ever keep up with someone that powerful?" A frown tugged at her lips. "Did she train, too? Maybe in case something like... that ever happened?"

"A lot of good that did." Her face fell at the memory, "Training doesn't help when forced to fight your own daughter..." 

With a quiet exhale, she pushed the memory away and reluctantly rose from the bath. Pressing the drain lever with her foot, she watched the steaming water swirl away. Grabbing the fresh towel she'd been given, she dried off, wrapping it firmly around herself, and stepping into the changing room.

Emilia gathered her damp, sweat-stained clothes and battered armor, carefully cradling the heavy bundle against her hip as she left the bathing area. 

The girls' shared bedroom lay just down the hall—close enough that she could still hear the distant clatter of utensils and laughter drifting from the cafeteria, where everyone else was enjoying the remnants of lunch. For now, the room stood empty, its bunks and scattered belongings left in quiet stillness.

At her bunk bed, she grabbed a large cloth bag and dumped everything in it. Pulling the drawstring tight, she set it aside, mentally adding yet another chore to her growing list.

Turning to the narrow dresser wedged between bunks, she took out a fresh roll of bandages and began wrapping them tightly around her chest with practiced ease. Satisfied that nothing would shift or chafe, she pulled on her usual outfit—her trusted black long-sleeve shirt and cream-colored pants—before slipping on her black-and-white shoes. Just as she straightened, her stomach let out a fierce growl.

"Alright, I'm starved," she said under her breath. "Time to eat."

Hooking the laundry bag over her shoulder, Emilia stepped back into the dimly lit hallway. Following its cobbled path, she soon reached the designated laundry area, where numerous cloth sacks awaited their turn at the wash. With a resigned sigh, she added her own to the growing mound.

Emilia grimaced, "It's gonna take Kazuya and me forever to get through all this." She then turned away and began toward the cafeteria, eager to fill her stomach with a homecooked meal.

Inside, she saw that the cafeteria was now sparsely packed. Most children had since eaten and went outside to play. Some lingered to play board games or help clean up, but overall, the only one still eating was Kazuya, who had a second, empty tray beside him. However, there were two other boys in front of him, seemingly enthralled by what he was saying.

Emilia smirked, "He must be telling one of his stories again."

Sensing her presence, he looked up and waved like a madman. Emilia chuckled while shaking her head, returning the gesture, though not as intensely. She then went to the serving line and grabbed a metal tray of the stack.

"What's on the menu tonight?" she asked, leaning toward one of the nuns behind the counter.

The woman smiled warmly. "Roasted chicken with gravy and mashed potatoes," she said, spooning generous portions onto the trays ahead.

"Just what I need," Emilia thought as she watched the food piled high. "After all that sparring with Kazuya this afternoon, I'm sure you could use a hearty meal," she teased.

Emilia couldn't resist a grin. "I could devour an entire infernal boar right now," she admitted, practically drooling as her chicken and potatoes landed on her tray.

With a quick, heartfelt "Thank you," Emilia quickly made her way to Kazuya.

Sure enough, Kazuya was at the center of attention, fiery hair almost glowing under the lantern light as he recounted some grand escapade. Sliding onto the bench beside him, Emilia tuned in just as he reached the climax of his tale. Every pair of eyes was locked on him, enchanted by his dramatic gestures and booming voice.

"...So there I stood!" he proclaimed, voice brimming with fervor, "my back to the cold, unforgiving cave wall, with the Terra Bear's jaws snapping before me! This vile beast intended to make ME its evening meal—but I would not yield!" He pounded a fist against his chest as if stoking an inner blaze. "No, my friends, I refused to become prey! With fiery resolve, I plunged my fingers into its beady eyes, robbing it of sight, then—HAH!— since I couldn't reach my blade, I seized a nearby rock and struck until the creature lay still!"

A hush fell over the small group of boys. One finally managed to speak, voice trembling with awe, "You... you killed a Terra Bear with your bare hands!?"

Kazuya nodded, his grin as radiant as a roaring flame. "Correct! And that was not the end! Starving from battle, I prepared a grand feast from my fallen foe!" He smacked his lips theatrically. "The flavor was bold, like nothing you've ever tasted—succulent, with a wild tang that sets your spirit alight!"

The one boy's jaw dropped in admiration, while the other's scrunched up his nose in disgust. "Ew, gross! You actually ate that thing!?" he sputtered.

"Of course!" Kazuya exclaimed. "To waste such a worthy beast's gift would be unthinkable! Food fuels the flame of life, my friends!"

As Emilia settled onto the bench beside him, Kazuya's gaze snapped to her, eyes bright and posture straight as if announcing her arrival to the world. "Ah, Emilia! Marvelous timing! I was just recounting my grand encounter with the Terra Bear—!"

She cut him off with a dry glance, biting into her gravy-soaked chicken. "Yeah, the bear story. You've told it a hundred times already."

Undeterred, Kazuya let out a hearty laugh that practically rattled the table. "HAH! A hundred times is nothing if there are eager souls willing to listen! I shall share it a hundred times more, nay, a thousand times if it keeps their spirits aflame!" He turned to the wide-eyed children around him. "Now, where was I?"

"You just finished eating the bear!" the young boy exclaimed.

"Ah, right, thank you!" Kazuya boomed, flashing a bright grin.

Emilia recognized this part of the story all too well.

"The very next morning," Kazuya went on, voice brimming with vigor, "I was roused from my slumber by mighty shouts beyond the treeline! My curiosity blazed within me, so I set forth and found a girl about my age practicing with a blue magic sword." He cast a knowing glance at Emilia.

"So that's how you met her?" asked the younger boy, eyes flicking between them.

"The moment I saw him," Emilia interjected, "I thought he was some wild animal. He was decked out in a huge fur, covered in guts and blood—I nearly took his head off."

Kazuya let out a hearty laugh. "HA! Your strike was swift—but no match for my unstoppable guard! Back then, your swordsmanship was so sloppy. You couldn't have touched me if you tried."

Emilia's eyebrow twitched. "Well, excuse me for having nothing but a dusty old sword-fighting manual to train with. Mother Teresa isn't exactly a swordsman, you know," she retorted. A smirk slowly spread across her face. "But you forget I still managed to knock you down—as 'sloppy' as I was."

The other boys stared at Kazuya, waiting for his answer.

Another thundering peal of laughter. "HAHA! That's so, I won't deny it! But only because I lost my footing!" He raised a hand dramatically as if calling upon unseen witnesses. "Had my foot not slipped upon that treacherous root, your counter would've surely missed its mark!"

"Right, keep telling yourself that," Emilia replied dryly, even as she silently acknowledged the truth. Back then, she'd still been green, while Kazuya, well... he moved with a kind of confidence that spoke of experience, even as young as he was. Of course, she later came to find he came from a warrior bloodline and was training heavily upon birth.

"ANYWAY!" Kazuya exclaimed, thrusting an arm skyward with fiery zeal, "Before I learned your tongue, I had to rely on the grand art of gestures and pantomime to explain why I wandered that forest! Through fervent hand signals and determined grunts, I convinced Emilia I meant no harm. Instead, I sought shelter! And so, with gallant grace, she guided me to the church!"

Emilia smirked, leaning back. "The rest is history," she chimed in lightly. "I taught him the language, got him settled in, and now he's my go-to punching bag whenever I need a bit of practice." Her grin turned sly, eyes flashing.

Kazuya straightened and gave her a challenging gaze. "Oh, HO! I would dare say it's quite the opposite, Emilia! After all, as fast as you are, I've still landed more strikes than you, have I not? Wouldn't that make YOU my personal punching bag?"

The boys couldn't help but snicker at the expression Kazuya wore—cocky, playful, and brimming with that unmistakable spark. "Oh man, Emilia looks like she's about to blow!" one of the kids whispered, eyeing her twitching eyebrow as she aggressively scooped up spoonfuls of mashed potato.

This only provoked a hearty, roaring laugh from Kazuya. "HAHA! Indeed she does!" he exclaimed, thoroughly amused. But just as swiftly as his laughter filled the space, it ebbed away, leaving his features unexpectedly somber. The abrupt shift caught Emilia's eye, and the boys, who had been basking in his energy, fell quiet.

"What's wrong, Kazuya?" one of them ventured, concern lacing his voice.

Kazuya blinked, then offered a bright—if slightly forced—smile. "A-Ah, nothing at all! No need to worry! Now, you lads should return to your meals!" he boomed, clapping their backs, albeit a bit too hard. "Eat well, eat plenty! Fuel the flames of your strength so you can grow big and mighty, just like me!"

The smaller boys nodded eagerly and dug back into what remained of their lunch. Meanwhile, Kazuya stood, holding his empty tray and giving Emilia a quick nod. "I'll be heading off to start on the laundry soon," he announced, attempting another cheerful grin. "See you then!"

Though still smiling, his warmth lacked its usual radiance. Emilia couldn't help but notice the lingering shadow in his eyes as he turned to leave. "What's got him so down all of a sudden?"

After finishing her meal, Emilia handed her tray in before moving toward the laundry room, eager to get their chores over with. Yet, she was stopped by a sudden voice. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY MARIE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!?!?"

"Not today..." she moaned internally before making her way outside.

Down the street from the church, Emilia sees a thin young man with shaggy brown hair towering angrily over a frightened boy who cowered behind a petite girl.

The girl raised her arms protectively. "Stop it! We were just playing house!" she insisted, voice steady despite the tension.

At the sight of the girl, the man's fury evaporated, replaced by an unsettling adoration. "My sweet Marie," he cooed, "the only one who should be playing house with you is me. No other man should dare take my place!" He glared daggers at the trembling boys as if they'd committed some grave sin.

Emilia rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "Man? He's just a kid, Gauche. They both are," she said dryly. "Quit acting like a weirdo."

Gauche whirled around, startled. "Who the hell-!?" He stopped when his furious gaze settled on Emilia, who met his glare head-on, unimpressed and unmoved.

"Oh, it's you." He groaned in annoyance.

"Must you cause trouble every single time you visit?" Emilia demanded, folding her arms over her chest. "Marie's allowed to play house with whomever she wants. It's just a game—it doesn't mean anything."

"JUST A GAME!?" Gauche boomed, clutching his grimoire as though preparing to wage war on the notion itself. "PLAYING HOUSE IS THE VERY FOUNDATION OF MARRIAGE, A SACRED BOND THAT SOLELY BELONS TO MARIE AND I!!"

Emilia wrinkled her nose. "One, ew. And two, again, they're kids, Gauche. Don't get all worked up over something so trivial."

"Exactly!" Marie adds, "We were just playing pretend! There's no need for all this drama." She grabbed the younger boy's arm. "Come on, husband, let's continue our date somewhere where we won't be disturbed." She huffed and dragged the boy away.

"M-MARIE, WAIT!!" Gauche sputtered, taking a few frantic steps after them before pausing. He turned back to Emilia, his voice faltering for a moment. "Oh... before I forget, the Captain sends his regards."

Emilia smirked, "Tell him I'll be seeing him soon enough."

Gauche sniffed, regaining his swagger. "We'll see about that. Get your grimoire, pass the exams, then maybe you'll earn your chance." He flicked his gaze forward again. "Now, I must catch up to Marie before she wanders too far!" he declared, leaping onto his broom and soaring off down the road, his cries for his sister echoing behind him.

As the dust settled, Emilia shook her head. "Tch! Just you wait. I'll ace that entrance exam, no problem!" she shouted after him. Her voice turned to a grumble as she turned away, "Dick. I have no idea how Marie puts up with someone like him." She huffed, heading off to finish her own business.

"Still going for the Black Bulls, I see?"

"ACK!!" Emilia jumped, spinning around to find Sebastian smiling softly, his eyes narrowed with polite curiosity. "Ah, my apologies, Emilia. I didn't mean to startle you."

She sighed, pressing a hand to her chest to steady her heartbeat. "Jeez, Seb, why do you insist on sneaking up on me like that?" She huffed before answering, "Yes, I'm still aiming for the Black Bulls. Nothing's changing my mind."

Sebastian inclined his head with a measured smile. "Even though the other squads might vie for you once you have your grimoire?" His tone had a subtle, knowing lilt. "I must confess, I initially pictured you with the Blue Rose Knights, what with that armor you fancy."

Emilia snorted, folding her arms. "While I respect what she's done out in the outer realms, she's still a stiff-necked noble. The less I have to do with them, the better. And I won't get stuck in a squad that only sees me for my magic."

A soft chuckle slipped from Sebastian. "My, my, such strong convictions. I suppose I understand. Some squads are indeed... how shall I put it? Full of themselves. Still, do be careful not to paint all of us with the same brush, hmm? The Grey Deer, for instance, is a charmingly pleasant squad. Our captain may be a bit... 'electric', but we do pride ourselves on being a bit more open toward other classes."

Emilia arched an eyebrow. "One bad apple ruins the bunch, Sebastian. Sorry, but I'm not changing my tune." She shrugged before turning on her heel. "I've got laundry duty waiting, and Kazuya's probably drowning in work already. Catch you later, Seb."

As she walked away, Sebastian gave a faint, knowing smile. "Of course, Emilia. We shall see what fate holds for you after the grimoire acceptance, won't we?" he mused quietly, his tone smooth and ever-so-slightly amused.

Emilia, already halfway down the hall, let her mind wander as she thought of the Grey Deer and Sebastian's long watch over Narin. "He's a decent guy, always trying to look out for Kazuya and me." she admitted, "But still, not even he can sway me. I'm still joining the Black Bulls. End of story." A smile tugged at her lips, "They're the ones who showed up when no one else did. That's reason enough. And besides, I've heard the stories. With how they are, I'll have plenty of free time to go investigate those robed freaks."

Now at the back of the building, Emilia caught sight of Kazuya kneeling beside a massive wash bin, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing industriously. He seemed in high spirits despite their looming chore. When he sensed her approach, he flashed a grin, tired but still as bright as any flame.

"Emilia!" he shouted, "I've already finished a few loads! Care to join me in this glorious endeavor?!"

"I'd rather not," she replied dryly, "but it's not like I have a choice, is it? The sooner we finish, the better." Settling beside him, Emilia eyed the mountain of soiled linens. "We should divide and conquer. Toss me that bag next to you."

"Great idea!" Kazuya exclaimed, reaching into the large pile. Without warning, he tossed a laundry bag through the air, and It struck Emilia square in the face.

"Thanks," she said flatly, shooting him a withering look as he let out a hearty laugh.

"HAH! My apologies, Emilia!" he exclaimed, still grinning. However, it was in a teasing kind of way that made Emilia want to strangle him.

With the sky painted in warm shades of orange and purple, the waning daylight cast long shadows across the yard. Emilia and Kazuya had been at it for hours—scrubbing, rinsing, hanging—each motion practiced and efficient. Eventually, Emilia finally made it to her bag of clothes and armor, focusing on buffing dirt and singe marks from her gear. As she worked, her eyes drifted toward Kazuya.

He seemed distant, his usual zeal replaced by quiet, repetitive scrubbing.

"Hey," Emilia ventured, trying to remain casual as she continued to scrub. "Is everything alright with you? You seem... off. You acted pretty strange in the cafeteria, too. What's going on?"

Kazuya froze, his hand lingering over the washbasin. He glanced up quickly, forcing a bright grin—one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "HAH! Me, off? Nonsense, Emilia! I'm perfectly fine! Why would you think otherwise?"

Emilia let her washcloth fall into the bucket. "Kazuya, you know better than to try that. You can't lie to save your life." Her tone softened just a bit, "Come on, you know you can talk to me. We've always had each other's backs, right?"

His posture sagged a fraction, the bold façade cracking. "Of course! It's... It's nothing, really," he said quietly, voice losing some of its booming warmth. "I'm just being... emotional, I guess. It's not your fault or anyone else's. Just ignore it. I'll get over it soon enough."

"Kazuya..." Emilia's voice took on a warning edge. "Stop with the act. What's going on?"

The boy hesitated, eyes downcast, before finally letting out a sigh. "It's just... Well, soon, we'll be leaving this place, and once you join the Black Bulls, our paths will no longer run side by side. I can't help feeling a bit sad about that," he admitted quietly.

Emilia's response was swift, reaching out and flicking his forehead.

"Ow!" Kazuya yelped, rubbing the spot, confusion twisting his features.

She just shook her head, a small sigh escaping. "Kazuya, you silly molefaced dork, it's perfectly fine to feel how you do." A gentle smile curved her mouth as she continued, "To be honest, I kinda feel the same way. I'll miss everyone here at the church, too. But it's not like we're saying goodbye forever. Even Magic Knights get days off. We can always visit and write letters."

She patted his shoulder, meeting his gaze firmly. "And that goes for us, too. No matter where we end up, no matter how far apart we are, you're still my best friend. Nothing's going to change that, got it?" Her voice was warm but carried that familiar, no-nonsense edge. "So don't go moping around. It's annoying."

Kazuya's somber expression cracked, giving way to a brighter grin. He puffed out his chest, voice reigniting with that signature spark. "HAH! You're absolutely right, Emilia! Nothing can diminish the flame of our rivalry!" He clenched his fist dramatically. "I'll write every day, recounting my daring deeds! The church will rejoice at every tale of my heroic conquests!"

Emilia's lips curved into a playful smirk. "Oh, I'm sure they'll be too busy reading about MY grand escapades to pay your letters much mind. I'm sure the Crimson Lions will have you polishing floors and scrubbing latrines for the first few weeks! A noble's idea of 'training,' I'm sure."

He let out a booming laugh, swiping an imaginary flame from the air. "HAH! I doubt it! I can already see it now: battling daring highwaymen, wrestling mighty beasts, delving into forbidden ruins! My adventures will be too grand for menial chores!"

Emilia rolled her eyes fondly and nodded toward the sky, which had begun to glow a deeper orange as the sun dipped lower. "Sounds exciting, moleface. But right now, our 'mission' is this mountain of laundry, and we've still got the pews and shit to dust. I'd rather we finish before dinner. Less talk, more scrubbing."

Kazuya grinned, resuming his work with renewed vigor. "Understood! Let's give this laundry a cleansing worthy of legends!" he declared, plunging his hands back into the soapy water with fierce determination, though he ended up splashing water all over himself.

Emilia and Kazuya scrubbed until their arms felt like lead, ensuring every last scrap of clothing was spotless. When she finally got to her bag, the sky had deepened into a tapestry of warm oranges and purples. With careful hands, Emilia tended to her armor, scrubbing away soot, buffing out scratches, and polishing until the metal gleamed brilliantly in the fading light.

While she focused, Kazuya pushed through the final load, hanging a towel with a dramatic flourish. "HAH! At last! We're finished!" he exclaimed, wiping sweat from his brow like a triumphant warrior who'd just conquered a battlefield. Glancing back, he saw Emilia still at work on her armor, her attention as keen as a blade's edge.

"You treat it with such care," he mused, tilting his head in curiosity. "As if it were your own child."

Emilia shrugged, her voice calm but firm. "It protects me. If I don't care for it, it'll rust or break. Can't afford that."

Kazuya folded his arms, a small grin tugging at his lips. "You're already fast and strong. Why bother with something that slows you down? It seems like unnecessary weight to me."

Emilia's eyebrow rose, a playful spark in her eye. "Not fast enough to catch you off guard, Flamebrain. Besides, that armor kept me from going down earlier. Without it, that blast you let loose might've knocked me out completely."

Kazuya gave a thoughtful hum. "HAH! I suppose that's true. Still, I stand by my opinion! You don't need it." He sniffed suddenly, catching a savory aroma drifting from the main hall. "Ah! Dinner must be nearly ready!"

He turned, tossing a challenging grin over his shoulder. "Emilia, I propose a race! Loser forfeits their dessert!" Without waiting for her answer, he darted off, laughter trailing behind him like sparks from a flame.

Emilia clicked her tongue, hefting her sack filled with armor, and shook her head. "Damn Moleface. He knows I'm weighed down." Her lips curled into a cunning smile. "But that's why I've got this." She channeled her mana, the air growing colder around her, and vanished in a flash of icy-blue light, leaving a soft, frosty mist swirling in her wake.

Ultimately, Emilia reached the dining hall first, well ahead of Kazuya, who arrived moments later panting and protesting. "Using teleportation is cheating!" he cried, voice booming as if it were a grand accusation.

Emilia simply smirked, comfortably seated and already savoring his favorite dessert. She took slow, exaggerated bites, rolling her eyes heavenward with delight. Each spoonful seemed sweeter with Kazuya's grumbling protests in the background.

They exchanged laughs and playful jabs over dinner, the day's struggles fading beneath their banter. Still, an undercurrent of excitement thrummed between them, persisting even later when they scrubbed floors and dusted pews after everyone else had turned in.

Tomorrow would bring the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony—the start of a new chapter, one that could change their lives forever. As the moon climbed high and each went to bed, neither could sleep, their minds dancing with dreams of grimoires and new spells just beyond dawn.