Everyday life

Town Courtesy | Training Grounds | Six Years Later

The training grounds echo with strikes. Cezaria—now twelve—wears black pants and a white tank top. Her fists hammer into a wooden training doll, sweat dripping down her toned arms.

Behind her, Jenna and Chays watch, overwhelmed by her focus.

“She’s only twelve…”

“I know, Jenna.”

On the sidelines, Sebastian nurses fresh bruises, scowling.

The doll splinters under another strike. Cezaria calls out, voice booming. “Sebastian, do you want another beating?”

Sebastian pales. “Joachim! Your turn!”

Joachim sighs, shrugging off his jacket to reveal a white tank top. He steps forward, muscles tense, stance sharp.

A small pause. Jenna and Chays look at each other, worried.

“Do we have to send Sebastian and Joachim to the doctor again today?”

Chays shakes his head, watching with pride. “Look closer. Maybe Joachim has a chance this time... Ah, I should cheer for my own daughter and her dreams, shouldn’t I? What's wrong with me?”

Joachim lunges, fist arcing toward her face. Cezaria slips under it, snapping an uppercut into his chin. The Buttler staggers back.

He growls. “Are you using your ability? That was painful as hell!”

Her fists clench. “It was my bare fist. Come on!”

Joachim dashes again, his kick slamming into her hip. Pain lances through her side, but she pushes back against it.

Endure it. He hit me. That means—he’s open.

Her left hook cracks across his cheek.

Both crumble—Joachim to the dirt, Cezaria to one knee. She forces herself upright, glaring through the sting.

“Again.” She pants.

Joachim lies back, defeated, raising his hands. “No… it’s enough. I’ve got bruises on my face. Girl, this training—it’s not normal.”

Cezaria staggers toward her father, every step aching, but her eyes burning bright.

She squares her shoulders, sweat dripping down, fists aching from training. She lifts her chin at her father.

“You can even join with your sword, Father. I will be an adventurer!”

Her fiery eyes lock on Chays and Jenna. For a long moment, neither of them speaks.

“There's no point in being against it, she's taking out elite guards without any problems… And by now, we're more worried about our butlers than our own daughter.” Chays says with a sigh.

“What can I say, she has a mind of her own. Joachim, do you need a doctor?”

Joachim sighs in pain. “Yes. Like always."

Chays and Jenna laugh along with Hanla.

Town Courtesy | Training Grounds | One Year Later

Harima, now a pre-teen, blankly stares at the sky. Her legs refuse to move. Her arms are numb. All around her, jagged glass shards rise from the earth.

Her voice trembles. “Cezaria! HELP!!”

Cezaria rushes forward. Harima’s legs are pierced by glass, her arms wrapped in it, panic written across her face.

“It hurts—help, it hurts—”

Cezaria smashes through the glass with her fists, but more and more glass is rising. Without hesitation, she drives her knuckles against Harima’s head, knocking her unconscious.

“Sorry.” Cezaria whispers. “But otherwise… you might’ve killed yourself.”

Town Courtesy | Mansion | Next day | Infirmary

Harima lies on the bed, asleep, her face pale. Cezaria and their parents sitting at her side.

Chays grips Cezaria’s shoulder. “You saved her.”

Cezaria frowns. “What was it? That glass—”

Jenna’s hands tremble. “It’s her ability. She’s a creator type… she lost control of it.”

The doctor enters then.

“Having this ability type is a curse-” he says grimly. “Everything in her range could be manipulated into creation. But the mental strain to use it properly? Nearly impossible.”

Cezaria swallows hard. “Harima…”

Jenna whispers, “Why did she start training this ability?”

Chays clenches his fists. “Doctor, is it possible to seal it?”

The doctor nods. “It happens. But she’s alive. She can train under a colleague of mine to suppress it. Magic might stabilize her. For now, she’s safe. That is what matters.”

Cezaria lowers her head. “…Understood.”

Chays relaxes, relieved. “Thanks doctor.”

Jenna looks concerned at Harima.

Town Courtesy | Mansion | Infirmary | Six Hours Later

Cezaria waits at Harima’s side, eyes heavy but unwavering.

I care about her. Her sillyness, her brightness. She’s cute, yes… but her eyes—they’re searching for more.. and I don't even know what she wants. To be honest, I've been around her so long, I do see her as my sister. This little girl who’s growing up now. I wish I could help her.

Harima stirs. Her hand twitches.

“Harima…” Cezaria leans closer.

Her sister groans and winces. “…ouch. I messed up.” She blinks at Cezaria’s worried face—and then adds some quiet words. “You saved me, Hanla.”

Cezaria freezes. “My name is Cezar—”

Harima shakes her head. “My parents don’t know. But for a long time… I knew. You’re not Cezaria, the one who used to play dress-up with me. You’re Hanla, the one who’ll beat up every bad guy.”

Cezaria’s eyes widen. Fear floods her chest.

She noticed? I will not lie to her, then.

“I’ll lay my cards out in the open.” Hanla says.

Harima studies Hanla. “Go on.”

“My name is Hanla Carthe. I died at twenty-nine… and I woke up in your sister’s body. I—I’m sorry. I kept the facade. I hate lies and still… I lied.” Hanla replies with regret in her voice.

Harima shakes her head. “I know. And I’m sure our parents know, too, at least a little. You’re super motivated and strong-willed—and annoyingly badass.” She smiles, her face softening. “But Hanla, I appreciate your honesty. I knew Cezaria died. But I still have a big sister. Because I have you, Hanla. You took care of me all this time…”

A tear of joy rolls down Hanla’s cheek.

Harima tilts her head. “But can I ask why you want to be an adventurer? You could change things in Regona too. We’re part of the royal family and with your skills, you could climb the social ladder fast. Not just because you’re strong—but you make people feel safe. That’s a skill too.”

Hanla takes Harima’s hand. “But there’s restrictions and etiquette and a whole lot of waiting, Harima. I want something powered by my own choices. I want to see everything and immediately change what I can for the better—not because of a title. In a system, you’re bound by it. Adventurers can act freely. They don’t stand for any Dominion.”

Harima sighs, then laughs out loud. “That’s what I love about you, Hanla. Those shiny silver eyes, saying all of that with a genuine heart. It makes me happy.” Her smile turns resolute. “Then I’ll do my part. I want Regona to be better. I’ll be a princess—and then a queen.”

“Thanks, Harima.”

Harima rakes her fingers through her hair, sadness flickering in her eyes. “I will ask the doctor about sealing my ability. I think it's possible—with magic suppressions. I’ll have to train slowly. I’ll be honest, Hanla: I envied you. My ability’s always been dangerous. I can create glass, but one mistake and—well, you’ve seen it. Pain makes me unstable and then it cascades. I’m sorry. And… thank you.”

“It’s fine,” Hanla says, teasing. “Whenever I’m around for it, I’ll bonk you unconscious again.”

I've been training all this time and didn't know anything about her ability until now. I feel bad, like I'm neglecting my family here. Still, there are these moments. Somehow it's hard to put into words. But I know she's my sister out here. My sister... Why do I feel this guilt? I wonder how my other sister is doing. My other family.

Harima bursts into laughter. “Please don’t. Your punches hella hurt.”

Hanla smiles at Harima, fond.

Town Courtesy | Mansion | Cezaria’s Room | Two Years Later

Cezaria Regona is fifteen now.
She stands in her room, dressed in a cropped top and wide black pants. She flexes in the mirror, watching the lines of muscle she has built over years of relentless training.

Beside her, Harima mimics the pose, flexing her arms playfully. She has a little muscle herself and grins wide.

“Cezaria, the musclehead.” Harima teases.

“Hey—” Cezaria shoots her a look.

Harima tilts her head. “Do you have an adventurer name yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I got one.” Harima says with a smirk. “Since you can’t go around as Cezaria Regona… how about Hanla the Dragonfist?”

Cezaria blinks. “Why Dragonfist?”

“Because—” Harima puffs out her chest dramatically, “it sounds badass and cool.”

“HEY! Badass is MY line!”

Both burst into laughter, their voices echoing through the room.

That’s a valid point. She’s sometimes an airhead, but maybe I am too. This life… this bond—it’s fun.

She says, with conviction, “I’ll explore the world. And I’ll change it.”

Harima crosses her arms, grinning. “And I’ll read about it in the newspapers. Meanwhile, you’ll read about me being a badass princess.”

Cezaria smiles softly. “I will.”

Outside the room, leaning against the wall, Jenna overhears her daughters’ declarations. She presses her palm to her face and sighs with a small smile.

“I gave birth to two troublemakers…”