CHAPTER 189: CHAPTER 189 - CURIOSITY OVER RATIONALITY

The evening sun cast a warm orange glow across the training grounds, painting long shadows that stretched over the sand. The air rang with the sharp clang of steel as Eric’s blade struck again and again against the towering giant’s frame—each blow landing true, yet leaving not even a scratch.

The giant only laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed like rolling thunder. His massive shoulders shook with mirth as if Eric’s blade were nothing more than a feather tickling his ribs.

Eric gritted his teeth, sweat sliding down his temple, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Tch—how hard is this guy’s skin!?" He leapt back, boots digging into the sand before charging in once more. His movements were quick, agile, trained... yet every strike only seemed to amuse his opponent further.

Luca sat cross-legged on a nearby bench, arms folded, watching the scene unfold with a detached calm. His sharp eyes tracked every movement, not of Eric, but of the giant—studying his posture, his delayed reactions, the simple, almost childlike delight that lit up his broad face with every failed attempt to hurt him.

We decided not to approach Professor Seraphina for now, Luca thought, fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee. Eric’s right. Better to keep this under wraps until the time comes. A surprise card hidden in the deck is worth more than one laid bare.

He smirked faintly, remembering Eric’s earlier reaction when he’d asked whether the giant might be bullied if they didn’t go to Seraphina. Eric had practically doubled over laughing.

"Bullied? Him? Are you kidding?" Eric had said, before dodging another slow swipe of the giant’s massive arm. "The kicks and hits don’t even leave a mark on him!"

And now, watching the so-called ’Big Bull’ grin ear to ear as if this whole spar was some playful game, Luca couldn’t deny it. The man was an immovable wall... though perhaps a little too simple-minded for comfort.

The giant’s heavy laughter filled the grounds again, making a few students training in the distance glance over nervously.

Eric, now clearly at his limit, finally stumbled back with ragged breaths, lowering his blade. His legs wobbled before he plopped down in the sand, gasping and drenched in sweat. "Haaah... damn... this guy’s unreal..."

Yet even as his body begged for rest, Eric wasn’t the type to stay still. He scrambled back to his feet, still grinning, circling the giant with playful footwork like a mischievous fox trying to provoke a bear. The giant tilted his head, eyes sparkling with innocent amusement, and stomped after him, his steps slow but heavy enough to shake the ground.

From the bench, Luca exhaled deeply, leaning his chin into his palm. A perfect tank, he admitted inwardly. But... isn’t he a bit too foolish? And worse, we don’t even have the time to train him properly. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Still... he’s the best we’ve got.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Eric jogged over, dragging the giant along behind him like a loyal puppy. His grin stretched wide as he dropped onto the bench beside Luca, sword hanging loosely in one hand.

"Dude," Eric said between gulps of air, "now we just lack a mage—or maybe a long-range shooter. Then our team’s perfect! With Big Bull here by my side, I don’t need to worry about getting hurt, hahahahahah!"

The giant stood behind him, tilting his head in that same habitual gesture, staring down at them as if confused about what he was supposed to do next.

Luca let out a soft chuckle at Eric’s infectious enthusiasm, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "Let’s contact the Saintess. Maybe she’s already found someone."

At that, Eric froze mid-laugh. His grin faltered, and he rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward little scratch. "Uh... don’t you think calling her is a bit rude? I mean, she is the Saintess."

Luca smirked knowingly, his voice laced with amusement. "Didn’t she say she wanted to be treated ’normally’? Then treat her normally. Just call her."

Eric gave him a flat look but eventually sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "As you say." His grin returned, boyish and incredulous, as he pulled out the crystal from his pocket. It pulsed faintly with blue light, shimmering in the dimming evening.

"Still can’t believe I have the Saintess’s contact info..." he muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief.

The giant loomed silently behind them, tilting his head again, as if curious about the glowing crystal in Eric’s hand. His expression was wide-eyed, almost childlike, as he leaned forward ever so slightly, watching the light reflect in his eyes.

And so, under the quiet orange glow of dusk, they waited for the Saintess to arrive.

***

[Saintess Aria - 1st person POV]

The mirror greeted me with a familiar reflection—silver pupils staring back, calm yet carrying the weight of too many expectations. My lips curved faintly, not in pride, but in irony. Months... it’s been months since I came to this academy. A quiet life, structured, almost peaceful. And now it’s even better with professor Aldric here. Far better than the suffocating court of the Holy Kingdom.

I let out a soft laugh, brittle and mocking. The Holy Kingdom—our great sanctuary of purity, they say. A place of divine justice, of holiness, of light. If only they knew the filth crawling beneath its golden walls. If only they knew the endless politics, the poisoned smiles, the daggers sheathed in prayer.

The necklace lay on my dresser, its golden cross glinting faintly. I clasped it around my neck with practiced hands, the metal cool against my skin. My gaze flickered to the small, broken brooch resting on the table. Its edges were cracked, its beauty long marred, yet my fingers closed around it gently. Some things, no matter how damaged, were not to be abandoned.

With that, I left for Class A.

The halls whispered as I walked. Students stopped mid-conversation, their heads bowing slightly, eyes filled with reverence, fear, and that strange mix of awe I had come to know so well. It’s always like this... everywhere I go, they see not me, but the Saintess. The "chosen one." My shoulders stiffened, my lips pressing into a tired smile. I am so tired of it.

Class A awaited me, its polished interior glowing faintly under morning light. As always, a special seat was reserved for me at the front. A symbol, really—a throne dressed as a desk. I lowered myself onto it with a silent sigh, folding my hands neatly on the table.

Professor Seraphina swept in, her presence commanding, and soon her voice echoed clearly: Dungeon Subjugation , forming the teams of 5 , and difficulty.

A ripple of excitement and tension spread through the class. My silver eyes darted around the room. Even I... had to take part. My fingers drummed against the wooden desk in irritation before I stopped myself. How troublesome.

Well then... my options are limited. If I am to join a team, then Aiden’s seems most logical. The boy blessed by light itself. The Holy Weapon’s wielder. A true beacon, destined to be the hope of this world.

And yet, my gaze did not linger on him.

No, my eyes drifted—unbidden, unrelenting—toward the back, near the window, where one boy sat with a quiet, detached air.

Luca.

That anomaly. That disturbance in the flow of fate. He sat there with the same calm indifference, and yet everywhere he went, storms followed. First, Beastridge Mountain. I saw him turn the tides with my own eyes. Then, whispers of mission after mission—cultists defeated, shadows cut down. And his last mission...

I lowered my gaze slightly, hiding the flicker of knowledge in my eyes. Not many know the truth of what happened. But I do. The Saintess knows far more than most.

Still, Aiden remained in my periphery. He should be the hope. His light, his holy weapon... the goddess herself must have chosen him. And yet... why is it that my eyes are drawn elsewhere? Why is it that my thoughts circle back to that boy by the window?

The lecture came to its end, Seraphina’s voice fading beneath the shuffle of papers and murmurs of classmates. I sat there a moment longer, weighing reason against impulse. Logic against curiosity.

And then I whispered, almost to myself: ...fuck it.

My legs carried me before I could second-guess. Step by step, my robes trailing softly against the floor, I moved past curious stares and whispers. Past Aiden, past what was supposed to be the destined path.

Until I stood behind him.

My heart gave the faintest tremor as I opened my lips.

"Can I join your team?"