CHAPTER 69 – ACT 1 (6)

Lyra POV

“Lyra, I know you haven’t been participating.”

Flinch.

Lyra’s body froze as though her strings had been cut.

Soren’s calm, steady voice cut through the dim corridor, and her ears twitched violently at the sound of her name.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to the boy walking just ahead.

His crimson eyes glinted faintly under the small flame in his palm; his expression was unreadable.

‘H-he noticed?’

Of course he did.

He was always at the front, fighting with abandon, leading with confidence.

She hadn’t exactly been subtle about hanging back, dragging her feet, keeping her staff clutched like a lifeline, but never using it, but she hadn’t thought he would waste the attention to notice her silence.

Her lips parted, desperate to form words, to explain, but all that came out was a shallow gasp.

She had no excuses.

A bead of sweat slid down her spine.

Her shoulders hunched as though to shield herself from the blow she was sure would follow: anger, scorn, rejection.

It always came, it always would.

“You know, I don’t particularly care if it’s true,” Soren said.

Her ears twitched again, this time in shock.

His tone was casual, almost dismissive, the opposite of what she had braced for.

“Our team’s actually decent. We’ve got a defence mage from class B, and two students who are stronger than their rankings suggest.” He twirled his handaxe idly in his hand, the strange metal catching the light. “Even I can use a bit of divine power, though not much, but enough. Honestly, we don’t even need a healer that badly.”

To prove his point, he raised his hand. A flicker of purplish-silver light sparked in his palm, glowing for only a moment before fading.

Then he stopped walking, turning and looking at her directly.

Her heart thudded against her chest, and she dropped her gaze instantly, ears flat against her head, unable to withstand the weight of his crimson eyes.

His smile was gone, and his tone had hardened to steel.

“But, Lyra, you didn’t say anything.”

The words stabbed through her like icy needles.

“If I’m fighting with everything I’ve got, and I ask for healing, only to be ignored without a word, how do you think I’d feel?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

The coldness in his voice made her tail bristle, her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped.

She wanted to tell him, to apologise, but no sound came; the words stuck like thorns in her throat.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered silently to herself.

“Betrayed,” he said bluntly.

The answer fell heavily between them.

Her grip on her staff tightened until her hands shook.

The word carried weight she knew too well.

– I’m sorry, Lyra, but I had to do it…

That voice, the one that haunted her nights, the one she had once trusted more than anyone else, the voice of betrayal.

Her chest tightened, and her eyes burned.

Lyra bowed her head lower, hiding the tears threatening to spill.

“Soren! Dire wolves ahead!”

Felix’s urgent call shattered the moment.

Soren glanced at her once more, but this time his tone softened, his voice quiet and warm.

“Listen, if you don’t want to fight, that’s fine. Stay behind me. I’m not strong, but I can protect you at least a little.”

His hand patted her shoulder lightly in passing. The touch was fleeting, yet it lingered, leaving behind a warmth that made her heart skip a beat.

He turned away, his face hardening as he barked orders to the group.

“Everyone! Restrain them first! If they can’t move, they’re just oversized targets!”

Lyra blinked after him, breath shallow.

‘Why… why would he say that?’

Her entire body trembled, but not just from fear this time.

She had expected fury, cruelty, rejection. That was what always followed weakness. Instead, he reassured her. Protected her. Told her it was okay.

None of it made sense.

Her chest ached as she watched him spring forward into the fray.

Felix’s magic shifted the earth beneath the wolves’ paws, tangling their steps.

Yuli braced his sword against one beast’s lunges, his knees nearly buckling but holding firm.

And Soren, Soren darted like a storm, [Breeze] propelling him in wild, unpredictable bursts.

He weaved between snapping jaws, his axe flashing as he struck and retreated in the same motion.

Every strike, every shout, every motion told her one thing: he was fighting not just for himself, but for all of them.

Their effort was evident to Lyra.

‘Why didn’t he care?’

And she… she was still standing on the sidelines, staff shaking uselessly in her grip.

Tremble tremble

‘I’m pathetic.’

The thought scalded her.

A weak, bitter laugh slipped from her lips before she bit down on it, bile rising in her throat.

She wanted to help.

She wanted to break free.

She wanted to tear down the walls of fear that had kept her caged for so long.

But her body wouldn’t listen; fear wrapped around her like chains.

CRUNCH!

The last dire wolf collapsed into dust, Felix’s plant magic squeezing the life out of its earthen body.

“That’s the last one!” Soren called, lowering his axe onto his shoulder, a weary but satisfied smile lit his face.

That smile made her heart twist violently.

She saw it then: a dream.

A fragile vision of herself standing beside him, fighting together with courage she didn’t yet have, smiling without fear.

The world she wished for more than anything.

She couldn’t help but think her thoughts were slightly foolish; she had only known Soren for a matter of hours, and yet her imagination was already spinning so wildly out of control.

Nobody else had ever reached out to her in the way that he had.

Even though the girl had experienced betrayal once already, that didn’t mean she had completely given up on the world; she wasn’t stupid enough to believe that just because one person acted like that, that everyone would.

That was why the walls she had held up so well until now began to tremble.

Soren walked over towards Lyra, his face still holding a destructive smile.

“Hey, Lyra, are you okay?”

“Yeah… Thanks.”

Her voice was softer, lighter.

Not curt, not guarded, just… real.

It startled him; his brows arched before his face relaxed into a warm smile.

“That’s good. You know, you should smile more. It suits you.”

Her cheeks subtly flushed at the words, but she didn’t mind.

For the first time in a long while, she didn’t mind, instead choosing to close the distance between them ever so slightly.

When the group reformed and pressed deeper into the labyrinth, she found her voice again.

“Soren?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m… sorry.”

The words caught, snagged in her throat, but she forced them free.

Soren’s smile was gentle, understanding.

“At first, I was annoyed,” he admitted.

Her heart skipped, but she waited.

Soren looked at the anxious girl and grinned, his lips parting as he spoke.

“I thought our team was doomed. An arrogant swordsman who held a grudge against me. A priest who ignored orders and stood there doing nothing. I’m not saying Felix and I are perfect, but even I doubted if we’d be able to make it through, but then I looked at you. Your hands gave you away.”

Lyra’s grip tightened on her staff.

She lowered her eyes, lips trembling into a bitter smile.

“That’s why I said what I said. I know how important this test can be to people, but it’s just an exam, at the end of the day, isn’t it? Not the end of the world.”

She wanted to laugh. The words sounded absurd coming from him, given the amount of effort he had shown thus far, and yet they sank into her heart all the same.

They were truly ironic words coming from the person who placed such importance on this event, but Lyra, unaware of that, turned and looked at Soren’s face.

“Lyra, you’re a priest. In that sense, you’re lucky. You don’t have to fight. You could heal the sick, bless the weak, work in a church. There are paths that don’t involve blood. So don’t force yourself.”

Her chest swelled, emotions spilling over until she thought she’d drown.

‘Why? Why is someone I just met being so kind to me?’

Lyla knew about Soren Arden somewhat; she didn’t know much, but what she did know was that he was friends with many people that most students didn’t even dare to approach, such as Princess Amelia Indras Einhardt and Professor Lilliana Roseblood.

Yet, here he was, so casually talking to her and helping her.

He didn’t need her wealth; he was a noble.

He didn’t need her status; she was a commoner.

He didn’t need her body; others around him outshone her easily.

He didn’t need anything from her.

And that was what made his kindness feel real.

‘Maybe… maybe we really could be friends.’

The thought warmed her chest, fragile but bright.

“Soren?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you… eat with me after this?”

He blinked, then shrugged, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t see why not?”

Her lips curved into a smile so wide it startled even her.

Her cheeks flushed, and her chest lightened.

For the first time in a long time, her heart felt open.

“The—”

But her words never finished.

A sharp sound split the air, the sound of steel through flesh.

Her vision snapped sideways, narrowing, darkening.

The last thing her eyes caught was Soren’s hand, reaching desperately for her, crimson eyes wide with horror.

Then… black.

————「❤︎」————