5.
[Lancel Mercenary Guild]
Marygold's heart had been pounding strangely ever since she arrived at the guild's main building. The closer she got, the worse it became.
"Wow, it's morning and there's already a bunch of sweaty people packed together. I feel like I'll get contaminated just getting close. Huh? Young Lady? Young Laaaady?"
Before Pina could stop her, Marygold squeezed through the gaps between people.
"What the? This is a mercenary guild, so women should g—Aaaaagh!"
She twisted the wrist of the man blocking her way and forced herself all the way to the front.
"Cutting in line is bad, Young Lady."
"Ah."
When she finally reached the front row, Marygold's mouth fell slightly open.
"Lancel Dante..."
The man from her dream.
There he was, leaning casually against the reception desk. Thump-thump, thump-thump. Her heart pounded harder than ever before.
"Who even is that guy that you keep paying attention to, Young Lady? He's just some common noble."
She couldn't find a proper answer to give.
This emotion wasn't something that could be easily expressed as favorable or unfavorable, liking or disliking.
"You didn't even know him before. Who exactly is he supposed to be?"
"Hmm."
After pondering for a moment, Marygold tilted her head and answered Pina.
"My ex-husband?"
"......?"
She wasn't wrong.
Even if it had only been in a dream.
"The examination begins now! Enter one at a time!"
The test started, and Marygold's turn approached. The opponent she would cross blades with had been decided long ago.
"Please spar with me, Sir Lancel Dante."
* * *
Whether Marygold would pass was, in truth, already a foregone conclusion.
The fact that she had mastered Beginner Swordsmanship alone meant she had secured the minimum baseline ability needed to work as a mercenary.
Her outward appearance, too, was different from the past—her posture was properly set, inspiring admiration just from watching her. She would likely be more skilled than most mercenaries.
"Please spar with me, Sir Lancel Dante."
But above all else—her eyes.
Those blazing, burning eyes.
Her emerald-carved irises shone so brilliantly that it seemed lightning might spark from them at any moment.
Though Marygold spoke sparingly, Lancel could feel the unprecedented passion surging within her.
'...Weren't we supposed to be strangers in this cycle?'
Lancel was momentarily at a loss for words.
Marygold was not a regressor. She was someone without memories of previous cycles. That much was certain.
Then why?
"You should accept. She wants it that badly."
The Third Prince, who had been watching from the side, spoke up. The corners of his mouth curved upward in a small arc. It was clear he was enjoying this situation.
Hmm.
What kind of situation is this, exactly?
"What are you doing? That man is the Guild Master, not an examiner. Hurry over this way..."
Lancel raised his hand, cutting off the examiner's voice.
Without a word, he drew the wooden sword from his waist.
"Young Master?"
"It's fine. Anyone can oversee an examination. I was getting bored just standing around anyway. This works out well."
"Are you certain about this?"
"Don't make me say it twice."
"Yes, sir!"
The examiners all stepped back.
Every person present surrounded Lancel and Marygold like spectators forming a ring.
The hall buzzed with murmurs as the situation took an unexpected turn.
"An inn girl sparring with a noble. I've lived long enough to see all kinds of strange sights."
"Some country bumpkin and a waitress, is it?"
"But isn't he supposed to be a knight?"
"Knight, my ass. He's all skin and bones. Probably just got that rank by choosing the right hole to crawl out of."
The mercenaries' mouths moved without pause.
"Even if mercenaries have gotten soft these days, an inn girl throwing herself forward like this—good grief."
"You don't know what you're talking about. That woman's no ordinary girl. At least a dozen guys have gotten hurt trying to mess with her at the western inn."
"What?"
"Wait, she's that woman?"
The mercenaries' gazes shifted as they looked at Marygold.
It seemed they'd all heard rumors from somewhere.
"You know Roben, the guy who couldn't make it today?"
"That bastard lying in bed claiming he threw out his back. Yeah, I know him."
"That's her handiwork."
"Ha. And here I thought he really did slip in the bathhouse. What a load of crap."
Lancel spun his wooden sword once lightly as he walked forward to face Marygold.
"Let's do this. If you can so much as graze my clothes, I'll give you a Bronze Insignia on the spot."
That was one rank higher than the mercenaries who started with Iron Insignias.
"If you manage to touch my body even once, a Silver Insignia. If you draw even a single drop of blood, a Gold Insignia. How does that sound?"
"And if I win?"
"If you win..."
Lancel smiled. Marygold's expression burned with competitive fire.
"Then I'll grant you anything you want."
"You promise?"
With those words, one of the examiners raised his hand.
"Ready... Begin!"
The moment the signal dropped, Marygold's wooden sword traced a line through the air.
Sliding across the floor, she closed the distance in an instant—five steps—and thrust her blade forward.
Lancel dodged with a slight turn of his head.
He didn't mind that her movements were far faster than expected. The problem was the strange energy emanating from her wooden sword.
'...Mana?'
No, that was impossible.
Infusing mana into a blade was only possible after mastering Advanced Swordsmanship. For Marygold, that realm was still far beyond reach.
Yet right now, mana was seeping out not just from her wooden sword, but from her entire body. Even in the windless hall, her hair fluttered slightly.
Had her skill suddenly jumped five levels? Even for a protagonist, that was impossible.
There was only one explanation.
'Yuri. That bastard.'
Lancel's gaze flicked backward. There stood the Third Prince, his lower face hidden behind a fully opened fan. His eyes curved like crescent moons as he watched their spar with evident amusement.
When Lancel focused on sensing the flow of mana, it became clear. Mana flowing from the Third Prince's body was streaming directly into Marygold.
============
- Emergency Event Triggered! The Third Prince is cheering for Marygold. He casts the 5th-tier spell 'Blessing.' Marygold's stats are greatly increased until the Third Prince's mana is depleted.
â»The Third Prince wishes to see Mercenary Guild Master 'Lancel Dante' in a predicament. Let's bring him down!
============
Blessing.
An archmage-level blessing had enhanced Marygold to her absolute limit. The mana she now possessed was effectively the Third Prince Yuri's own power.
'Honestly, every single prince in this Empire is completely insane.'
Poor Marygold, having to marry into a family full of lunatics like these. With that thought, Lancel adjusted his stance.
"Don't misunderstand, Marygold. I have nothing against you personally."
So much for taking it easy.
6.
Lancel already knew the Third Prince's intention. He was trying to gauge him.
How skilled was he? How much power was he hiding? That's what he wanted to see.
Lancel had no intention of playing along. He suppressed all the mana within his body. From this point on, only his physical strength would move him.
Swiiish—!
The air itself seemed to tear as Marygold's wooden sword came flying.
Lancel deflected the force and stepped back. If he met it head-on, the destructive power writhing within that strike would shatter him.
Between the two, countless exchanges unfolded in an instant. The speed was difficult to follow even with the eye.
"...That's..."
The eyes of those watching gradually filled with shock.
Marygold's strikes, charging forward with terrifying power, certainly looked impressive.
But what was even more uncanny was Lancel, deflecting every attack with one hand.
"Even with sufficient strength, you're still lacking. You've got a long way to go."
A relaxed smile played at his lips.
"Your waist is exposed."
"Ugh!"
"Don't be so dramatic. Now your shoulder's open."
"Agh!"
Every so often, he would tap the tip of his blade against Marygold's exposed openings.
No one present understood how such a thing was even possible.
All they could perceive was that Lancel Dante had mastered swordsmanship to a degree that transcended their comprehension.
"Hmm."
As the situation unfolded, the smile gradually faded from one person's face.
Sensing the shift in his emotions, Lancel inwardly rejoiced.
'Did you really think just mindlessly boosting her stats would be enough, Your Highness?'
Marygold's enhanced abilities were based on the mana the Third Prince was channeling into her. Which meant that as time passed, it was his mana being depleted.
Of course, for the Third Prince—hailed as a magical prodigy—mana was something he had in abundance. The drain wouldn't be immediately noticeable, but it certainly wouldn't feel pleasant either.
Lancel took satisfaction in that fact.
At least, he did—until crimson rings appeared in Marygold's eyes.
"...I'm coming at you again."
The exhaustion vanished from her expression. The sweat streaming down her face evaporated into the air, creating shimmering heat haze.
============
- Event Updated! The Third Prince absolutely refuses to let Marygold lose. He casts the 7th-tier spell 'Overflow.'
â»The Third Prince's mana consumption increases significantly. Marygold's vitality and mental strength are continuously drained. Her condition drops drastically.
â»From this point forward, all 'damage' taken by Marygold will be converted into consumption of the Third Prince's 'mana.' (Remaining Mana: 98%)
============
As expected.
Long ago, in a previous cycle, Lancel had experienced the effects of Overflow firsthand. To put it bluntly, it had been absolutely fucking awful.
"Hnnngh!"
Marygold's body convulsed as the surging power flooded into her.
The warmth drained from Lancel's eyes.
He'd actually considered throwing the match after putting up a decent fight. If it would make the prince look favorably upon Marygold. If it would mark the first step toward her becoming the future Empress.
But his mind had changed. This bastard needed to get knocked down a peg before he'd come to his senses.
'Third Prince, you crossed the line first.'