Chapter 373. Rivals Don’t Give Each Other Gifts, We Give Bruises

William approached the group just as the conversation began to wind down, the afternoon sun casting long, amber shadows across the courtyard. He caught the tail end of Lia’s explanation, offering a steadying nod to the other two girls.

"It’s more than just paperwork, Ellie, Clara," William interjected, his voice carrying a note of quiet respect. "This is the kind of groundwork that separates a soldier from a survivor."

"Commander Ardyn doesn’t hand out invitations to the Royal Greatsword Corps like they’re party favors."

"Everything Lia has been doing—the meetings, the protocols, the conditioning... it’s all laying the foundation for a career that could change the course of her life."

Ellie and Clara exchanged glances, the last remnants of their worry fading, replaced by a luminous, unguarded pride. The tension that had hung over the academy during Lia’s absence finally dissipated, replaced by the easy, comfortable chatter of old friends.

Lia leaned into the conversation, her voice animated as she recounted how several of her new squadmates had initially tried to assert dominance with intimidating stares and condescending postures, only to flee into nervous laughter the moment they witnessed her devastating sparring technique.

However, the peace of the academy was always fragile, and it didn’t take long for the inevitable to occur. Once Lia had reestablished her footing in the daily routine, the unspoken pressure between her and Kaela began to simmer once more.

One afternoon, the air thick with the metallic tang of sweat and dried blood from earlier training sessions, Lia spotted Kaela in the middle of an unarmed drill.

Kaela was moving like liquid fire, her strikes cracking through the air with terrifying velocity.

"I hear you’re getting some kind of special gauntlet made," Lia said, sauntering into Kaela’s peripheral vision.

Her tone was casual, but there was an edge to it—a deliberate, razor-sharp skepticism designed to provoke.

Kaela didn’t miss a beat. She snapped upright from a midair kick, her chest heaving, eyes blazing with immediate enthusiasm.

"Not some special gauntlet, Lia."

"Grock is forging it himself. Custom design, mana conductive alloy lattice, reinforced impact cores—the whole damn thing."

"It’s going to be something genuinely terrifying."

Lia arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest with exaggerated nonchalance. "That sounds like a hell of an investment for what is, ultimately, still just a fist."

The challenge landed like a physical blow. Kaela stepped forward, the muscles in her shoulders coiled like springs.

"A fist that dented solid steel on the first test strike, you mean," she shot back, her grin widening into something predatory. "Speaking of weapons, how’s that Undertow Surge technique coming along?"

"Still struggling with the habit of overcommitting your swings and leaving your ribs exposed?"

Lia’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. ’Overcommitting? I’ve been precise... and I’ve been surgical.’

"I haven’t overcommitted a single swing in weeks, Kaela. My control has never been better."

"That’s funny," Kaela purred, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "Because that’s not what Ellie told me."

"Ellie exaggerates."

"Ellie has never once exaggerated anything in her entire life, and you know it."

"There was that one time about the size of the fish she caught," Clara chimed in from a few yards away, not even bothering to lift her eyes from her journal as she scribbled furiously.

"That was different!" Ellie protested from across the courtyard, her voice carrying across the training grounds. "That fish was genuinely enormous!"

"The fish was, by your own initial account, roughly the size of a horse," Clara countered flatly. "By the third retelling, you claimed it was the size of a small carriage."

"Fine! Maybe there was a little embellishment!"

"But this is not the same situation!" Ellie shouted back, clearly flustered.

Lia’s mouth twitched. She fought to maintain her composed, skeptical front, but the absurdity of the argument was winning.

"Fine," Lia said, turning her full attention back to Kaela, her voice dropping an octave, becoming deadly serious. "Once we’re both properly equipped when the metal is on and the mana is flowing, we spar."

"No training wheels. No controlled environment. We spar properly. No holding back."

The atmosphere between them shifted instantly. The playful banter evaporated, replaced by a sudden, violent tension that made the air feel heavy, like the moment before a lightning strike.

"Deal," Kaela said, her grin turning fierce, almost hungry. "But consider this fair warning: prepare to lose."

"I’m not going to be gentle just because we’re friends."

Lia’s eyes locked onto Kaela’s, cold and unyielding. "I believe I’ve heard that particular warning from you before, Kaela."

"And as history has shown... the results have always favored me."

Kaela’s grin didn’t just widen; it sharpened, transforming from playful mockery into something more dangerous, something hungry. "Oh, I’m counting the days, Lia."

"I’m going to enjoy watching that composure of yours shatter when you realize you can’t outrun what’s coming."

William watched the exchange from a short distance away, leaning against a wooden training post. To an outsider, it looked like two young women posturing, but he saw the way their muscles coiled, the way their eyes never truly left each other’s throats.

He also noticed something neither of them seemed aware of. Tucked into the top of Kaela’s training bag was a small, neatly wrapped package, the paper crisp and expensive-looking, something she had clearly fetched from the capital’s markets specifically for a moment that wasn’t a fight.

The evening air turned cool as twilight settled over the academy, casting everything in shades of bruised purple and deep indigo. William was making his way back to his quarters when he caught a fleeting glimpse of Lia through an open window in the dormitory wing.

She wasn’t studying or sleeping; she was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at a small, ornate hairpin. It was delicate, crafted from fine silver with tiny embedded gems, the kind of thing sold in the most exclusive stalls of the capital’s merchant quarter.

She tucked it away into her personal belongings with a practiced, deliberate casualness, but the way her fingers lingered on the metal betrayed her. She wasn’t hiding a weapon; she was guarding a memory.

The next morning, the sun rose hot and unforgiving over the training grounds. William found Kaela mid-stretch, already dripping with sweat from an early morning warm-up.

"So," William started, tilting his head with a knowing smirk as he approached. "That was quite a gift yesterday."

Kaela froze mid-lunge, her face flushing a shade darker than her exertion warranted. She immediately pressed a finger to her lips, shooting him a warning glare that lacked any real venom.

"If anyone asks, I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"You deny everything. Under oath, if necessary."

"Rivals don’t give each other gifts, Kaela," William teased, crossing his arms. "That’s not how the script goes."

"Rivals don’t give each other gifts," she repeated, her voice cracking slightly before she steadied it. "We give each other bruises and broken ribs."

"That’s the transaction."

"You absolutely just gave her something," William pressed, enjoying the rare sight of the fierce warrior being flustered.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about... I’m a creature of pure aggression and competitive spite."

William laughed, stepping closer. "I watched you wrap it yourself, Kaela."

"Twice, actually. The first attempt fell apart because you were being too careful with the ribbon, and you had to start over."

Kaela’s jaw dropped, then snapped shut. She straightened her posture, trying to regain some semblance of her usual intimidating aura, though the crimson creeping up her neck ruined the effect.

"That information is classified, Instructor Wade... Highly sensitive military intelligence!"

"Consider this conversation terminated."

William shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he walked past her toward the forge. "Classified... Yeah, right."

"Just make sure you don’t get too soft before the spar, or Lia might actually hold back."

"In her dreams!" Kaela shouted after him, though the venom was gone, replaced by the quiet satisfaction of someone who had a secret worth keeping.