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The next day, Karnak and his companions wandered around the castle village. They pretended to be ordinary passersby, eavesdropping on conversations, or acted like customers, asking casual questions about the local atmosphere. All the while, they kept an eye out for any traces of darkness.
As usual, Lapicel stayed behind at the inn, waiting patiently. It was a cold winter day, with each breath forming a puff of white in the frosty air.
"Ha!"
In the backyard of the inn, a gray-haired girl swung a wooden practice sword.
—If you want to grow stronger, you must train diligently and consistently every day.
—Yes, Sister Serati!
Though her movements were limited to basic horizontal, vertical, and diagonal slashes, her form was clean, precise, and full of discipline. A few passing merchants stopped to admire her skill, impressed by her level of training despite her age.
"Wow, the young lady is quite talented!”
"She’ll grow into a formidable swordswoman one day."
In truth, their untrained eyes had failed to notice her true prowess. Even now, she could overpower most adult warriors with ease. Anyone would grow stronger if they ate well, slept well, and moved with purpose—provided they weren’t hopelessly frail. And Lapicel, as a natural prodigy, was no exception.
The scrawny figure...
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