For Our Cherished One

The morning sun shone brightly over the training courtyard, the trees surrounding the area casting long shadows over the recruits.

It was the second day of staying at the castle of Duchess Mysetria, and the air was thick with anticipation. Those who passed the second round were gathered in neat rows, their faces fresh and determined for the next test.

An older knight, Haymitch Gustav, stepped onto the platform at the front. His gruff, commanding voice cut through the soft murmurs.

"Attention! The third test will commence in three days. It will be a match—recruit versus recruit."

Excited whispers rippled through the crowd, though Haymitch remained unfazed.

"The preliminary match roster has been decided. Check your names, prepare yourselves, and remember—this is a test of skill, resilience, and discipline. Not brute force. Prove yourselves worthy of the Mysetria name."

Moments later, an announcement board was rolled out, and the crowd surged forward to check their matchups.

I lingered at the back, letting the more eager recruits jostle for a spot at the front. Fulgur and Wilhelm, on the other hand, dove straight in.

"Who'd I get? Who'd I get?" Fulgur muttered as he pushed through the throng, while Wilhelm followed at a more measured pace, his smug smirk suggesting that he was already confident in his opponent.

When they finally returned, their expressions were a study in contrast.

"I got some guy named Roland," Fulgur said, scratching his head. "Never seen him around. Should be easy, right?"

Wilhelm snorted. "Your overconfidence is going to be your downfall. Me? I'm up against some no-name recruit. Piece of cake."

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward to check my own name on the roster.

There it was, neatly scrawled under the matches for the first round:

Ellen vs. Magoth Harlund

The name tugged at something in my memory, but I didn't dwell on it. Instead, I scanned the crowd and spotted my opponent.

Magoth was hard to miss.

With a physique that could rival a castle wall, he towered over most of the recruits. His broad shoulders and stern expression exuded an air of quiet strength, but it wasn't just his size that drew attention—it was his presence.

"Yikes," Fulgur muttered behind me, peering over my shoulder. "That guy looks like he could crush you with one hand."

"Are you scared?" Wilhelm asked, his tone teasing but his eyes sharp.

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Not at all."

The truth was, I wasn't concerned in the least.

Evangeline Rullet—the body I now inhabited—wasn't just any recruit. She was the female protagonist of a story I had written, and if there was one thing protagonists had, it was plot armor.

Magoth might have been intimidating, but I was confident in how this would play out.

Or so I thought.

As I turned away from the board, a shadow loomed over me. I glanced up to see Magoth himself standing there, his dark eyes fixed on me.

"Evangeline Rullet," he said, his voice deep and steady.

"Yes?" I replied casually, offering him a polite smile.

For a moment, he just stared at me, his brows furrowing as if he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. The casualness of my tone seemed to throw him off, and a flicker of confusion crossed his face.

Then, as though coming to some decision, he straightened and said quietly but firmly, "I'll win."

His words weren't loud, but there was a weight to them that made my smile falter.

Before I could respond, he bowed slightly—a gesture of respect—and turned to leave. His massive frame parted the crowd effortlessly as he walked away.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my thoughts swirling.

"Well, that was weird," Fulgur said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Wilhelm added, folding his arms. "Didn't think he'd be the type to say something like that. Makes it worse if you lose, huh?"

I ignored their banter, my mind replaying the brief encounter.

Magoth's declaration echoed in my ears.

"I'll win."

There had been no malice in his tone, only certainty.

But then, something else struck me, and my heart skipped a beat.

How did he know my name?

Not just my name—he had called me Evangeline Rullet.

I go by Ellen here, after all.

I shook off the lingering unease and turned to Wilhelm, who was still standing nearby, arms crossed and looking amused by my reaction.

"Wilhelm," I called, catching his attention. "Have you heard about Magoth before? Who is he?"

Wilhelm's confident smirk faltered, replaced by a thoughtful frown. "Magoth Harlund… Not much, honestly. I've only heard his name mentioned recently. He's apparently the young champion from an amateur swordsmanship contest held about a month ago in some town to the south."

"Champion?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Wilhelm confirmed. "The event wasn't big enough to make waves here, but it's said he breezed through the competition. People were impressed by his sheer strength and determination, but…"

"But what?"

Wilhelm hesitated, glancing toward Fulgur, who seemed more than ready to chime in.

Fulgur leaned forward, his expression animated. "No one really recognizes him, you know? Even though he won the contest, he's not, like, famous or anything. And it's probably because of his hair."

I blinked. "His hair?"

"Yeah," Fulgur said, gesturing dramatically. "That guy's got this mop of black hair that covers half his face. You can't even tell what he looks like unless you're standing right in front of him. And honestly? He looks scary. Like, stay-far-away scary. No one talks to him much, and he doesn't seem to mind. He just… keeps to himself."

I glanced back toward where Magoth had disappeared into the crowd, his towering figure no longer in sight.

"He seemed oddly polite to me," I said softly, more to myself than to them.

Wilhelm snorted. "Polite, sure, but don't let that fool you. People like him are often the most dangerous. He's not gonna go easy on you, Ellen."

"Noted," I replied, my tone dry.

Fulgur grinned, nudging me with his elbow. "But hey, if anyone can handle him, it's you, right? Miss 'Unfathomable.'"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname but said nothing, my thoughts still circling back to Magoth's declaration and, more importantly, how he knew my name.

He had addressed me with such certainty, as if he'd known who I was long before the matchups were announced.

"Ellen?" Wilhelm's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You okay? You've been staring off into space."

"I'm fine," I replied quickly. "Just thinking about the match. Three days, right? Plenty of time to prepare."

Wilhelm shrugged. "If you say so. Just don't underestimate him."

"I won't," I promised, though the lingering question of how he knew me remained unanswered.

As we headed back to the training quarters, I resolved to focus on what lay ahead. Magoth might have been an enigma, but I had faced bigger mysteries in the world I now found myself in.

And if there was one thing I'd learned about this place, it was that nothing was ever quite what it seemed.