Chapter Text
"I am a traveler in peace!" Langris says, trying to talk to the woman even if she is clearly not listening, intent on grabbing his neck. She propels herself forward, sole of her right foot aimed on his chest but he blocks it with his left arm. The attacker bounces back a few meters away.
He decides to speak again, but she, much to his chagrin, has brandished another knife.
Are you kidding me?
He grips on his own pocket knife on his right hand and the blades clash once more. They tremble, and the woman looks at him with unyielding alienation. "Listen here," he started, "I do not mean any harm. So if you'd just let me be- woah!"
Her right hand stiffens on her side, making a sharp spike of ice and she thrusts it towards his chest. He is quick, thankfully, to repel it with his bag, causing it to be holed. He hears the telltale crack of glass.
Well, that's it for the communication device.
A dizzying chop on the top of his head snapped him out of that matter and he kicks the abdomen of the woman, sending her away. And that's it for going easy on this woman.
She is formidable, no doubt. And Langris thought she might make an average opponent before he continues his journey. Under her predatory gaze, his grimoire floats out of his bag and glows. "Spatial Magic."
Her magenta eyes widen and her lips thin grimly, in preparation for an attack. Langris raises his hand, dangerous circles of space forming around him. The same spell he used back on his brother. Even if she is a woman, he has no need to hold back on this attacker.
Her grimoire glows too, and it is an eerie white, cold even in sight only. She clenches her fist. "Ice Creation Magic." Large spheres of ice covered in sharp edges form around her, and he could tell by her posture that this took a lot of mana. He smirks.
"This is my goodbye gift for you."
She grimaces.
"I do not think so."
His smirk widens and he points his hand at her, the same time she mirrors his action-
"What the heck are you doing?!"
Langris's hand faltered, and the spells of the two disappear with surprise. They look up to where the voice came from and saw a man with disheveled red hair, face clearly flabbergasted with what he just saw. When his eyes land on the woman, Langris saw her posture relax and her head bowed lightly.
So she knows this fellow.
The fellow walks down, eyes on the woman and shouts incredulously. "Mariella! I thought Domina asked you to get some firewood? Why are you using offensive magic?"
The girl, Mariella, bows. "Apologies, Master. I sensed an intruder pass the barrier and came to check."
"An intruder?" He asks, and green eyes land on the "intruder". The Vaude meets his gaze coolly, and his eyes narrow in curiosity. The stranger, Fanzell thinks as he saw the clothes and appearance, looks well off. He couldn't possibly be a thief.
Langris is once again under the feeling of being scrutinized. First, Oba. And now, this weird man. Is he going to predict my future too?
"Boy," the redhead spoke, and Langris raises his eyebrow. The man continues. "You from Clover?"
"Yes."
"What's your name?"
"Langris."
"I'm Fanzell. Nice to meet ya, Langris. Just Langris? Family name?"
"I do not see the need to tell you that." He chides, clearly because the man was being so casually investigative on a potential enemy. The man smiles. "I think it's needed, seein' as you're in our territory."
He was smiling. Langris sighs, standing up straight as he returns his grimore in his bag. There was no use possibly getting into another fight just because of a silly introduction refusal. "Vaude. Langris Vaude."
Fanzell's eyes widen, amusement etched on his expression. "Well, swallow me blimey. Didn't think you'd actually answer. So, what're ya doing here?"
His mouth twitches, this man has so many questions that it's becoming annoying. "I'm traveling. I meant no harm but she suddenly attacked me."
"Mariella." Fanzell warns like he's done it a lot of times before. Obviously, the girl is one straight-laced student. Mariella just blinks, unfazed and he sighs. "Sorry bout that. She's different."
"I can see that." Langris remarks, and was it just him or did she glare at him?
"I saw your magic earlier. Spatial." Fanzell says, still smiling as he raised his thumb up. "That's cool."
His brows furrowed. "Thanks."
This atmosphere is awkward.
"You related to my boy Finral by any chance?"
This gains a reaction from him. Mariella glances at Langris, and from years of experience she could tell that there is a certain shift in air. He lightly shook his head and smirks to himself, before lookimg back at the redhead flatly. "A family member. How do you know him?" He asks, curious as to why an unknown person with a formidable student who withstood him was living on the edge of the kingdom, deep in the forest and was addressing his stupid brother so familiarly.
Fanzell just grins. "Finral and the Black Bulls helped me reunite with my fiancè. Oh, I know! How 'bout you come with us? You can meet Domina and eat sum' lunch!"
The overly enthusiastic man pats his shoulder while laughing, and the Vaude himself is feeling uncomfortable at the casual way he was being treated. Most people wouldn't even want to look him in the eye. "Uh, I think that is kind of intruding-"
"Nonsense, nonsense! Finral's boy's my boy too." He rebuffs, jolly and before Langris could say anything else, Fanzell is holding him by the shoulder and leading him to walk to god-knows-where.
Shifting his body as Fanzell talked about their friendship with the Black Bulls, he sees Mariella following them, carrying a pile of firewood on her back. He looks forward and scrunches up his nose. When and where did she even get that?
They are getting deeper into the forest, but the tall and leafy trees reduce and then they are walking on a patch of land with trees... burnt.
Langris wants to ask, really, where they were and what happened in this forest. He deduces it might have been an attack back during the elven invasion, and places like this are more prone as bandit hideouts. Isn't it dangerous here? What is this man and that girl doing, living here?
After minutes of walking, with only Fanzell's occasional chatter and the twigs breaking under their steps for noise, he is met with the sight of a rundown house on a bare patch of land. His eyes scan the establishment from top to bottom, slowly. Fanzell chuckles, scratching the back of his head.
"I know. Not the prettiest, huh?" He says sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "But people there accept visitors we know warmly, I assure ya." He adds with a smile and opens the door. "Domina, I'm ho-"
A pan hits him squarely in the face. Langris is surprised, narrowly dodging Fanzell's body that was about to fall on him when he loses balance because of the impact. The redhead fell on his butt, squinting. "Ow ow ow..."
A harsh tug on his shirt made him open his eyes. The visitor sees a woman, brown hair in a ponytail, teeth gritted and looming murderously above Fanzell.
This is going to be unpleasant.
"What're you doing, taking so damn long in getting wood?! I had Fana chop some, thanks to you!" She shouts, shaking his body until he went dizzy. A pink-haired lady comes out of the house next, looking apologetic. "Lady Domina, it's fine-"
"It's not! What would Mars say if he found out we're overworking you! This idiot is so careless! What took you so long, huh?"
"Apologies, dear," the redhead says calmly, holding her hand clutched on his shirt, "but we kinda took a while because of company."
"Company? A passerby...?" The lady says, looking up. Just then, her eyes register the presence of an unfamiliar person looking at her display of housewife violence rather weirdly. She is quick to stand up, brushing her dress. She smiles widely at Langris.
"Hi there! I'm Domina! Dominante Code. I'm the fiancè of this man here," she kicks Fanzell's leg and he groans, "and their family. What's your name and magic?"
"Langris. Spatial Magic." He introduces, polite as he can get. Domina's shoulder suddenly stiffens as she looks at him with wide eyes, scrutinizing his appearance. "Do you...?"
"Yes, I know Finral Va.... Roulacase."
"Wow!" She says, and claps her hands. "Well then, Langris dear. You must be tired. Come in, we were just about to have lunch!" And just like earlier someone is once again dragging him by the shoulder. He relents this time, pursing his lips because he could not try any resistance when it comes to housewives. Or housefiancès?
His eyes catch sight of ebony black going towards the back of the house, but his vision is quickly overcome by the house's interior.
Shabby.
Fana smiles and pulls a chair for him to sit on. He sat down. "Thank you."
The pink-haired lady smiles again.
He watches, contemplating as Domina merrily sets the table, putting on plates and utensils and pots one after another. After preparing the food, she grins and puts her hands on her hips. "I'm glad I decided to go all out this time! Eat to your tummy's content, dearie!"
Are all women so sweet to young strangers?
Langris glances at Mariella who just came in. She glared at him, blankly and he looked away. Noted, not all.
He hesitantly grabs the utensils and gets a portion of the viand from the open pot. Putting it in his plate, he slices the cooked meat, but falters. Fana noticed this. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned."
"...okay." He skeptically takes a bite. His eyes widen. It's good. He takes another bite, and another, and Domina watches him with an amused quirk on her lips. Langris figures that the earlier battle must've taken what energy he had left from the small breakfast he had. He doesn't notice that he finished it all until he hears the sound of utensil hitting the wooden plate. "Oh."
Domina jogs in front of him and holds out her hand, smiling widely. "Do you want more?"
This time, he is not skeptical. "Sure."
"Training?" Fana asks him, surprised.
"Yes." Langris says, after he swallowed a bite of the food. The strange people who know his dumb brother have also sat on chairs around the table, surrounding him and yet he doesn't feel too uncomfortable even though he didn't really know them. "To get stronger."
"Oh..." Domina drawled, seemingly enlightened. "You sound like the Black Bulls on that part."
Don't compare me to those... heathens, he wanted to say. Then again, the Black Bulls have proven, beneath their external reputation, that they are strong knights who have been valuable in many crises and saving the Clover Kingdom even... better than he.
But as if I'd admit it.
Besides, niceties are fragile around strangers. If his sharp tongue slips out as much as one insult towards the Bulls, who knows what will happen?
So he just nods. He hands the finished plate to Domina, who accepts it and gleefully makes her way towards the rundown sink. Fanzell, who is disturbingly shirtless now, replaces her being the one standing in front of him now.
He grins. "Training, right?"
"Uh, yes." Langris replies, controlling himself not to sneer at the unabashed man and his display of skin.
"Then, why don't you train here?"
Domina's hand movements cease. Fana gasps, blue eyes widening at the proposition while Mariella, the ever-apathetic lady looks up at him as if Fanzell just said something stupid.
Because he just did...
The noble's jaw drops slightly. "Huh?" Are you serious?
Is this man really a teacher? A talented one? He thinks he must have overestimated his intelligence because normally, one would not invite a stranger, a potential enemy at that to stay at one's abode.
But then again, are they only doing this because I'm Brother's sibling?
He grits his teeth inwardly.
Do they think I need to catch up with him of all people that's why they're offering their help?
Langris knows that he is not weak, not in need of help and especially not in need of pity. These people do not have the right to look at him like that just because he's younger than Finral. He looks straight at Fanzell. "No, I'm-"
"If you think I'm proposing this because you're Finral boy's brother, yer wrong."
Everything the Vaude has formulated in his mind to say has vanished in a span of seconds. "What?"
Fanzell leans at the chair, arms behind his head as he stretched like an old veteran. He smiles at the little man. "I've seen part of your fight earlier, and I could tell your magic control's phenomenal."
Okay, so what of it? He wants to refute. But he decides with "What do you mean?" to seem more polite.
"From years of teaching, I could tell. You're exceptional at magic,"
Unquestionably.
"great at tactical analysis,"
Langris wants to roll his eyes.
"and great at combat."
Of course Langris knows all of that! It's his talent! Did this man just interrupt him to enumerate his skills? If he's just stalling him, he needs to do a better job than that. He's heard more that enough praise in the entirety of his life that this doesn't make him flattered at all.
"But you've never held a sword, have you?"
He stiffens.
Domina smiles, hands moving to clean the dishes again. The sound of utensils clanking overtakes the silence that followed right after Fanzell's question. The noble's eye twitches. He didn't assume wrong, but what the man was pointing to didn't sit right with him. "Are you underestimating me?"
"Nobody said about anyone underestimating anyone." The redhead says, completely uncaring of the threatening aura spilling out of the boy. Unlike Finral, who hits on every girl he sees, the little brother seems uptight and seriously strict with himself. What a contrast.
"But if you want to get stronger, what better way than to have a larger diversity of skill? You're traveling because there is someone out there you wish to beat, correct?"
Fana nods in agreement. "Sir Fanzell is right."
"Fana, you can drop the Sir thing."
Langris is flabbergasted, beaten at the mere question. He has a point. Perhaps his earlier assumption that this man was intelligent was in fact, not far off the mark. He has just baited him to a stalemate, asking a question that was sure to get a reaction out of him. And his accurate perception of his current predicament.
Just who the heck is this man?
He glares at Fanzell. This man is hiding something, this whole group is, and his unsettled feeling is telling him he has to find out.
"Who the heck are you?"
The redhead tilts his head questioningly. "You already know me. I'm Fanzell."
"Last. Name." The noble says, with indent.
"I do not see the need to tell you that."
His eyebrow raises. Did this man just use his own words against him? He'd have to try better than that. Langris raises his right hand, knuckles cracking as an orb of space appeared on his palm. He smirks. It'll be a million years before you can provoke me. "Then I do not see the need to apologize when I scrape this house in half."
After all, Langris is a talker himself.
The older man grins, amusement twinkling on his eyes. He signals his arm from stomach up to the top of his head, and bows in a gentlemanly fashion. When he looks up, he is smiling.
"Fanzell Kruger, at your service."
His eyes widen. Kruger. Where did he hear that name before? Kruger... Kru-
Kiten. Attack. Traitor.
Selection. Teacher. Escape-
"You're from Diamond." He says, alarmed as he stood up from the chair. It shouldn't be much of a surprise, considering that he has seen what Mariella can do and how this guy approaches a fight and a knight, but he is still caught off guard. It was possible that they knew who he was, and used his brother's name to get him here and then get revenge for Diamond's generals. Goddammit!
Fana senses the tension and looks at Langris, trying to calm the stifling atmosphere. "But, we're not your enemies! Believe us."
"And on what basis, should I believe you?"
Why did he even come with them in the first place? He doesn't even have solid proof that Finral really knows them, and he shouldn't even care.
"I don't know," he is a bit surprised at the voice. The three look behind towards the person least expected to talk, and Mariella is there, leaning against the wall. Arms crossed below her chest, her calculating gaze lands at him. "Maybe the fact that you're not dead yet?"
He glares at her, standing his ground. She continues, unwavering. "If we were enemies, we would've poisoned the food earlier, am I right?"
Domina sighs. "Mariella-"
Fanzell raises his hand to stop his fiancè. He looks at her knowingly. She knows what she's doing. Don't worry.
The witch bit her lip in concern, indigo eyes locked on the two who were currently having a stare-down in the middle of the kitchen. She had no choice but to trust the judgment of her fiancè, but the current atmosphere unnerves her. Neither of them were budging, neither wanted to break, as both were unquestionably proud to even give up.
Letting out a sigh at the situation, Fanzell grabs two sticks from the pile near the fireplace. Cutting any loose branches. "Langris, Mariella!"
The two look up and see wooden sticks being thrown their way. Both catch the sticks at the same time with same ease, and they stare at each other blankly. Langris raises the stick lightly, confused. "What is this for?"
"You two fight it out. Glaring at each other doesn't do much." He comments in a rational voice, walking and opens the door. "Come."
He goes outside without question. The two look at each other, and Mariella wordlessly exits the house.
"Langris-" Domina calls out just as he stepped foot on land. He turns to her, uninterested. "What?"
"...be careful." The witch says, hesitation on her voice like she was worried about something.
Is she worried about me?
"Tch." Does that woman think I'm weak? That I'm going to lose to some ebony girl with a knife? He will beat her one-sided, just they wait.
As soon as he sees Mariella standing outside, stoic face and body in a stance ready to attack, he realizes it. This woman is not just a mere training opponent.
This woman is his enemy.