Chapter 12: The Phoenix's Lesson

*Kiro's POV*

As the dinner continues and I pour water into the Duchess’s glass, she thanks me with a polite nod. I move to Eudia’s side to pour her a glass as well.

While I’m steadying the pitcher, I feel a soft tug on my coat.

When I look down, Eudia’s eyelids are half-closed, her little hands clutching weakly at the fabric. Her drowsy gaze meets mine, and she mumbles, “...Tired.”

I crouch slightly, whispering, “Do you want to go upstairs now?”

She gives a slow nod and then—without hesitation—raises both arms up toward me, silently asking to be carried.

I blink, unsure. “Uh…”

The Duchess catches my hesitation and lets out a small laugh behind her hand. “It’s all right,” she says warmly. “She’s never trusted anyone else this much. Not since her father and I.”

I glance back at Eudia. She’s fighting to keep her eyes open, her lower lip trembling from exhaustion. Something in that sight disarms me.

“Alright, alright,” I murmur. I hook my hands under her arms, lift her gently, and feel her small arms flop lazily around my shoulders. She lets out a quiet hum as I shift my hold—one arm supporting her legs so she can sit securely, the other patting her back in a slow rhythm. Her head rests against my chest, the faint scent of honey and lemon still clinging to her hair from tea time.

Before I can turn to leave, the Duchess speaks again. “Kiro,” she says, tone soft but deliberate. “Eudia’s new tutors will arrive tomorrow. I’d like you to take lessons as well.”

I pause mid-step, surprised. “Lessons, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Two years from now, Eudia will be of age to attend the Academy. I want you to enroll too—to continue your studies, and to look after her.”

For a moment, I can’t find the right words. Me? In an academy for nobles?

“I…” I start, but she only smiles knowingly, as if she can already read the answer in my eyes.

“I’ll... do my best,” I finally reply, giving a small bow of my head.

With that, I bid her good night and carefully make my way up the grand staircase. Eudia’s breathing grows soft and steady against me, her weight shifting slightly as I turn the corner.

Her room is dimly lit by the flickering glow of the hearth. I lower her gently onto her bed, the mattress sighing beneath her small frame. She stirs but doesn’t wake.

“Good night, young miss” I whisper, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. She instinctively curls toward the warmth. I grab one of her pillows and place it in her arms—something to hold while she sleeps.

For a brief moment, I just stand there, watching her peaceful expression. A rare calm settles over me.

Then I turn toward the door, closing it softly behind me.

The morning air was crisp, sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows of the manor. Eudia walked beside me, her small steps light and rhythmic as we made our way toward the study hall where our new tutor awaited. She hummed softly to herself — probably the same tune the Duchess was humming last night during dinner.

But as we turned a corner, I saw my mother hurrying down the hall — her steps quick, her face pale.

“Mother?” I called out.

She stopped immediately, glancing between Eudia and me. I caught the flicker of distress in her eyes before she managed to compose herself.

“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.

She motioned for me to come closer. When I leaned in, she whispered, “The Duchess collapsed this morning. Don’t tell Eudia. Just… escort her to her class. I’ll monitor the Duchess’s condition until the doctors arrive.”

I froze for a second. Collapsed? The Duchess was fine just last night — lively, cheerful, radiant. I couldn’t process it.

“I understand,” I said finally, giving a small nod. My mother hurried off without another word.

Eudia tugged on my sleeve. “Kiro? What’s wrong?”

I forced a smile. “Nothing, little miss. Are you ready to meet our new instructor?”

She nodded hesitantly, though her eyes still lingered on the hallway where my mother disappeared.

We entered the study hall, and the air shifted immediately.

A tall man stood by the board, adjusting his glasses with a frown that looked permanently etched onto his face. His long blonde hair was neatly tied back, his coat pressed to perfection, but his eyes were sharp — like a hawk inspecting prey. 

Eudia peeked from behind me, clutching my shirt tightly.

The man sighed. “Ah, don’t be alarmed. I’m not angry — this is just… how my face looks.”

His voice was deep but oddly gentle, like someone who had given up trying to sound friendly but still cared to explain himself.

“I’m Master Lucien, your new music instructor,” he said, adjusting his cuffs. “You must be Lady Eudia… and you, young man, are…?”

“Kiro, sir.”

“Very well.” He nodded once. “We’ll skip the piece your previous instructor was making you practice. It was far too advanced — an intermediate piece, not suited for beginners. We're also switching to a piano.”

He placed a sheet of music on the piano stand, flipping through several others before continuing. “Do either of you know how to read musical notes?”

Eudia raised a hand timidly. “A little…”

“I can,” I said.

Lucien gave me a skeptical look. “You can?”

I nodded, and my mind flickered back for a moment—

In my old world, we couldn’t afford instruments. So I’d watch tutorials late at night, and playing virtual instruments, keyboard, violin, drums, you name it, I probably tried to play it, but I really liked playing the bass. Trying to match my pitch and rhythm. Miya was better than me, she even sang too — but I kept up, learning enough to play for fun.

Lucien’s voice pulled me back. “Good. Then you’ll help Lady Eudia with notation when I’m not around.”

He sat down at the piano, cracked his knuckles lightly, and began to play.

The first melody was simple — calm, almost childlike in tone. The notes rose and fell gently, like a lullaby meant to be memorized easily.

“This,” he said, “is beginner level. Anyone with decent memory can play this after two weeks.”

He shifted immediately into a second tune — quicker, layered, requiring both hands to move with precision. The rhythm demanded focus.

“This is intermediate. You’ll need coordination, muscle memory, and emotion — not just repetition.”

Then, without pause, the third melody filled the room.

The advanced piece was breathtaking — the notes flowed like water, alive and unpredictable. His fingers danced across the keys faster than I could follow, every chord bleeding into the next with purpose.

Eudia’s mouth hung open slightly. I could only stand there, listening, realizing how far this art stretched beyond what I once thought of as “music.”

Lucien ended the piece with a final, thunderous note that lingered in the room.

“There are two more levels above that,” he said, turning toward us. “Mastery and Virtuoso. But before either of you enter the Academy, I expect both of you to be proficient in the intermediate level.”

Eudia straightened her posture immediately, determination flickering in her eyes. “Yes, sir!”

I couldn’t help but smile faintly. The strictness in his tone reminded me of my old piano teacher online, it was a pre-recorded video— one who never smiled, but whose lessons left me inspired anyway.

“Good,” Lucien said, standing. “Now, let’s begin your warm-up. Posture straight. Shoulders relaxed. Arms loose — you’re not wrestling the instrument.”

The next hour became a rhythm of correction and repetition. Eudia’s fingers fumbled on the keys more than once, earning a patient, “Again,” from Lucien every time.

When my turn came, he didn’t go easy either.

“Tempo,” he said. “You’re chasing the rhythm. Don’t let it lead you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Again.”

We repeated until the hourglass ran empty, and our hands trembled from effort.

As the class ended, Lucien folded his sheet music neatly and said, “You both have potential. Lady Eudia, your sense of pitch is commendable. Kiro, your reading speed is impressive — though your dynamics are too restrained. Feel the music, don’t just follow it.”

Eudia grinned tiredly. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded once, turning back to the piano. “Tomorrow, we begin scales. Bring that same focus… or double it.”

As we left the room, Eudia leaned against me, groaning. “He’s scary.”

I chuckled softly. “Maybe. But he’s good.”

She puffed her cheeks. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing down the hallway where my mother had gone earlier. And right now, we both need to focus on something good.

We followed the hallway to the training yard behind the manor. The air felt different there—dense, charged, like it carried the echo of battle cries and sweat.

Standing at the center of the yard was a woman.

She was tall—almost as tall as Sir Lucien. Her skin was dark, and her hair was short, white, and wild, sticking out in every direction like flames frozen mid-flicker. Her body was… well, sculpted. Firm biceps, strong shoulders, toned abs that caught the sunlight whenever she moved. Scars crossed her arms like medals of experience.

I can't even deny, a woman with defined muscles is definitely attractive for me.

Eudia, standing beside me, tilted her head. “Kiro? Why do you look like that?”

“...Sunlight,” I muttered quickly. “It’s hot out here.”

She frowned. “It’s cloudy.”

I couldn't say anything.

The woman laughed loudly, clearly having noticed. Her voice was rich and lively, carrying a confident accent that rolled her words like a playful punch to the gut.

“Well, ain’t this a cute pair?” she said, hands on her hips. “Name’s Serah Ironvale!”

She flashed a grin that showed off perfect white teeth. “Phoenix-class adventurer, part-time instructor, and your new combat mentor. Nice ta meet ya both!”

“Phoenix-class?” I echoed.

She winked. “Oh, we’ll get to that. But first—” she jabbed a thumb toward the nearby changing stalls, “—get outta those stuffy clothes. You’ll move better in training gear.”

She tossed us a pair of plain shirts and shorts from a bench. “Chop-chop! Ain’t no knight in history learned how to fight wearin’ a vest and necktie.”

I caught my set midair and stepped behind one of the wooden dividers. The fabric was rough but breathable, the kind meant for training rather than comfort. I folded my uniform neatly and slipped on the new clothes. The shirt was light and airy, and the shorts allowed full movement—perfect for sparring.

When I stepped out, Eudia was already there, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her cheeks were slightly puffed, clearly uncomfortable with the plain outfit.

Serah gave us both an approving nod. “There we go! Now y’all look like proper trainees.”

Then she turned back to me, pointing with a grin. “You must be Kiro, right? Heard a lot ‘bout your dad. He was my senior in the Academy back in the day. Same club, too. Though we only got one year of activity together before he graduated.”

Her grin softened slightly—almost nostalgic. “He was one hell of a guy.”

She laughed again, bright and loud. “You’ve got his eyes. Sharp, but a bit too polite.”

Eudia peeked out from behind me. “Miss Serah… what’s a finix adventurer?”

Serah blinked, then burst out laughing—so hard she had to hold her stomach. “A finix?! Hah! Oh, sweet girl, that’s Phoenix, not finix!”

Eudia’s face turned beet red. She ducked behind me, mumbling, “S-sorry…”

“Aw, don’t be shy!” Serah knelt down, patting Eudia’s head with a hand big enough to palm a boulder. “You’re adorable, little miss. Now—lemme explain.”

She stood up again, hands on hips, her voice taking on that teacher’s tone.

“The Adventurer’s Guild is one of the most powerful organizations in the world,” she began. “They keep monster populations in check, hunt dangerous beasts, protect towns, and—” she smirked, “—make a darn good pile o’ gold while at it.”

She pointed to the gauntlets resting on a wooden bench nearby. They were made of dark metal, glowing faintly with enchantments, and looked heavy enough to crack stone. Beside them were matching boots and what looked like a segmented spine of armor—the ‘exoskeleton’ she’d mentioned.

“Now, adventurers are ranked in nine classes,” she continued, raising her fingers one by one. “Beetle, Wolf, Bear, Lion, Pegasus, Griffin, Minotaur, Phoenix, and Dragon.”

Eudia’s eyes widened. “There’s one called Dragon?”

“Yep! The highest of the high,” Serah said proudly. “Only three Dragon-class adventurers on this whole continent, and eight in the entire world. The rest of us Phoenix-types are still tryin’ ta catch up.”

She folded her arms, her muscles flexing naturally—causing me to look away again.

“Your fathers,” she said, glancing between us, “are both Phoenix-class. Your mothers? Griffin-class. They coulda reached Minotaur in a few more years, but—” she smiled softly, “—they retired early. Settled down, raised good kids.”

I couldn't believe it. Back at our old house, when a part of the wall almost fell on us… it didn’t seem like Mother was that skilled of an adventurer.

Eudia puffed up proudly. “Mama’s strong!”

“That she is,” Serah chuckled. “And I’ll make sure you grow up strong too, little miss.”

She turned to me, eyes gleaming. “And you, boy—don’t think you’ll be takin’ it easy just ‘cause you’re her escort. I’ve seen too many nobles’ attendants who can’t even throw a decent punch.”

“I can handle myself,” I said, standing straighter.

She grinned wide. “Good. I like confidence. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

Eudia whispered beside me, “She’s scary.”

I whispered back, “She’s amazing.”

Eudia blinked. “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Serah clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the yard like thunder. “Alright, kids! Today we’re startin’ light. Posture, stance, and how not to get your teeth knocked out. Tomorrow—” she cracked her knuckles, grinning, “—we’ll see who’s still standin’.”

“Alright,” Serah said, rolling her shoulders as she stepped into the sparring ring, which was little more than a flattened patch of grass with wooden posts marking the edges. “Let’s make it clear before we start, kid—no magic, no weapons, and no underhanded shots. This is pure hand-to-hand.”

She grinned and tapped her chin. “That means no aiming low, got it?”

“Got it,” I replied, taking a step forward.

Her grin widened. “Good. I like a polite fighter. Makes breakin’ your stance feel less cruel.”

I raised my hands the way Reginald taught me—guard up, left foot slightly forward, knees bent. Serah noticed and nodded approvingly. “Huh. Not bad form for a house servant. Let’s see if it holds up.”

Then she lunged.

I barely saw it—her step, the shift in her hips, the blur of motion before her fist cut through the air like a whip. I managed to sidestep, feeling the rush of wind graze my cheek, and threw a quick jab at her ribs. She caught it with ease, twisting my wrist just enough to make me stumble, then let go before I could react.

“Nice reflex,” she said, circling me like a predator toying with its prey. “You’re not scared to move in close. Good instincts.”

I gritted my teeth, readjusting my footing. “I’ve had worse beatings.”

“Is that so?” she smirked. “Let’s test that.”

This time, I charged first. I feinted left, then swung a right hook at her shoulder. She ducked—barely lowering her head—and before I could retract my arm, she used her elbow to nudge it aside and stepped in.

A kick came from nowhere. I crossed my arms to block, but her strength sent me sliding back, my heels digging into the dirt.

“Keep your core tight!” she barked. “Your body’s movin’ faster than your balance!”

I steadied myself, inhaled, and went again. I ducked under her next swing, twisted my torso, and landed a clean jab against her abdomen.

It didn’t even faze her.

Her grin grew wider. “Not bad. You’ve got timing. Now try dodgin’ this.”

Before I could brace, her leg swept mine clean off the ground. My back hit the grass, the breath punched right out of my lungs.

Serah crouched beside me, grinning like a wolf. “Rule number one, Kiro—never let your opponent control the rhythm. Once they do, it’s over.”

I coughed, forcing myself to sit up, sweat dripping down my neck. “You’re barely serious, aren’t you?”

She laughed and stood, offering a hand. “Of course not. You think I’d use my full power on a kid? You’d be part of the dirt right now.”

I took her hand, and she hoisted me up effortlessly.

“You did good, though,” she said, her tone softening. “Your movements are clean, and you don’t panic under pressure. That’s more than I can say for most grown men.”

“Thanks,” I said, brushing off the grass.

Serah turned her attention to Eudia, who was hiding behind me again. “Your turn, princess.”

“E-Eh?!” Eudia squeaked.

Serah laughed. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna throw ya. We’ll start with the basics—stance, punches, and how to keep your balance. No fancy stuff yet.”

Eudia pouted but obeyed. For the next hour, the training yard echoed with Serah’s booming voice and Eudia’s soft grunts. She made her hold her fists the right way, corrected her footing every few minutes, and cheered whenever Eudia threw a decent punch.

By the end of it, Eudia’s arms were trembling from exhaustion, but her face was glowing with pride.

“That’s enough for today,” Serah said, wiping her brow with a towel. “Good work, both of ya.”

We sat by the shade of the fence, passing around a pitcher of cool water. Eudia leaned against my arm, half-asleep from exhaustion. I watched Serah quietly as she cleaned her gauntlets with a cloth.

“Miss Serah,” I said after a moment, “why aren’t you on the battlefield? They could use a Phoenix-class like you.”

She paused, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Then she smirked. “Sharp question.”

“I was on my way, actually,” she said, tightening a strap on her gauntlet. “But then I got a letter from your father. Said to check in on the capital, make sure things were runnin’ smooth before the next campaign. I was just passin’ through, really.”

“So you’re leaving?” I asked.

“Tomorrow,” she said simply. “Once I’m gone, Sir Reginald’ll take over your training. Don’t worry, he’s a Minotaur-class—solid as stone, that man.”

“Minotaur-class…” I muttered. That explained a lot.

I hesitated, then asked, “How strong is my mother, really? Back at our old house, a wall almost crushed us. She looked… scared. Not like someone who used to be an adventurer.”

Serah stopped cleaning. For a brief second, something unreadable crossed her face. Then she smiled faintly.

“Your mother,” she said slowly, “is one of the most powerful healers this kingdom’s ever seen.”

My eyes widened. “Then why—?”

“Something happened,” she interrupted softly. “Long ago. Something that took a lot of her strength away.”

I frowned. “What happened?”

She looked at me with that same half-smile, the kind that hides more than it shows.

“That,” she said, standing up and tossing her towel over her shoulder, “is a story your parents oughta tell you.”

She stretched her arms, the late afternoon sun gleaming off the faint scars along her skin. “Now—get some rest, both of ya. Tomorrow’s gonna hurt a lot more.”

Eudia groaned faintly in protest, and Serah laughed as she walked away, her boots crunching against the gravel.

I looked at the gauntlets she left behind on the bench. They shimmered faintly, warm like firelight.

A Phoenix-class adventurer… and Mother was once powerful too?

I clenched my fists, staring at my palms.

“I’ll catch up someday,” I whispered.

*Author's Note*

I'm very sorry for the late upload and short chapter, I got caught up playing Minecraft. I'll deliver an even better chapter next week!