"Two candies on Camilla!"
"Me too, me too!"
"Hmph! You fools. I'm betting on the underdog! Three candies on that gray-haired guy!"
"Huh? That's why you always lose your snacks! Bet safe this time!"
"No way! A real man always bets on the underdog!"
"Tch. You're just a little kid. What do you know about being a man…?"
"Gah! Take that back right now!"
The orphanage courtyard had descended into chaos.
Children crowded into a ring around Camilla and me, eyes glittering with anticipation, pockets jingling with sweets they had scrounged up for betting.
"Wh-what is this…?"
Camilla blinked, visibly flustered.
She cast a pleading glance at Iris—who was supposed to be the voice of reason—but that hope was quickly dashed.
"I'm betting ten candies on Mr. Dale!" Iris declared with exaggerated flair.
"T-ten candies?!"
"Wow! That's the power of adult money!"
The kids buzzed like bees at the high-stakes bet.
Camilla and I exchanged long, weary glances.
Sigh.
Simultaneous sighs escaped our lips.
"…What's happening here?"
"I guess we're doing this."
Even if the Seven Gods descended from the heavens, there was no escaping now.
"Well, I've always wanted to test myself against you anyway," Camilla said, her expression sharpening as she raised a crudely carved wooden sword.
I stood, dusting off my pants, and picked up a similar wooden blade.
"No mana?"
"Of course."
"…Alright."
No mana meant no doubt about the outcome.
Not because I underestimated Camilla.
She was among the top ten swordsmen at the academy—her pure swordsmanship was even considered worthy of the next Saint's Sword.
But that was all.
That's the limit of talent without time.
I'd walked for millennia—no matter how many times I fell, I never dropped the sword in my hands.
Even if I was clumsy, even if I was flawed… I moved forward.
"Here I come."
Camilla's voice was calm, but her stance was firm.
Boom!
She charged, her speed far beyond what she'd shown earlier against the children.
Clash! Clang! Tap-tap-tap!
Wooden blades struck like lightning, their flurry too fast for the naked eye.
"Whoa!"
"That's crazy!"
"I can't even see the swords!"
The children's awe made the air electric.
"Hah!"
Her swing sliced the air in a sharp, clean arc.
Classic Saint's Sword technique—simple, no waste, no flourish. Like a blade forged from discipline and repetition.
'Impressive.'
Each strike screamed fundamentals. No wasted energy, no gaps in defense. She had clearly poured blood, sweat, and years into her craft.
But...
Whack!
I raised my blade, parried a downward strike, and stepped in, slamming my shoulder into her chest.
"Ugh…!"
Camilla staggered back, barely managing to hold her footing.
"You…"
Her breath came heavy as she glared at me.
"Camilla's getting pushed back!"
"See! The underdog's got it!"
Cheers erupted around us.
Camilla's gaze darted toward the kids.
One little girl, barely five, had tears welling in her eyes.
"Big sister… are you losing?"
Camilla's fingers clenched around her sword. Her shoulders rose and fell slowly as she steadied her breath.
"…Win."
That one word held all her will.
I smiled and flicked my wooden blade lightly.
Haaaah!
She roared, charging again.
Her blade now moved like a storm—relentless and full of heart.
And then—
Smack!
My sword flew from my hand.
"…Huh?"
Camilla froze.
"Wooow!"
"Big sis won!"
"No way!"
"Ha! Told you not to bet on the underdog!"
Cheers exploded from the circle like fireworks.
But Camilla—center of their celebration—stood still, her expression frozen.
I clicked my tongue silently.
'She noticed.'
I'd eased up just enough that she shouldn't have been able to tell.
But maybe I'd underestimated how well she knew herself.
Still, I couldn't defeat her here.
Not in front of the children who saw her as a fairy tale hero.
She had to win.
"All right, everyone~ Time for lunch! Set down the candy for now~"
"Eek!"
"Yes, ma'am~!"
"Hehe. Today's lunch is going to be special!"
"Special? What is it?!"
The children's attention shifted like moths to flame.
Iris strolled over proudly and nudged me with her elbow.
"Mr. Dale. Could you make the ramen we bought earlier?"
Ah.
So that's why she insisted on bringing it along.
"If we're feeding everyone, we'll need a big pot."
"No worries! We've got a stew pot perfect for this."
"Alright."
I had given the kids a visual show. Now it was time to win over their stomachs.
"I'll cook it perfectly. Just relax."
"I'll help too!"
"Then open the seasoning packets and pour them into this bowl."
"Got it!"
Iris took her 'job' seriously, even though all she had to do was open packets.
After all, it was just instant ramen—boil water, add seasoning, drop the noodles.
Simple.
"..."
"..."
Silence settled in the kitchen as we waited for the water to boil.
"…Mr. Dale."
Iris spoke first, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
"You said you were from an orphanage, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"..."
She paused, then turned to gaze out the window.
Outside, the children played—faces glowing with laughter.
"I grew up in an orphanage too. Before I became a saint."
Her voice carried a distant warmth, like someone remembering an old home.
"Father Antonio raised me. He gave me the surname Flora—my mother's name."
"Ah."
So that's their connection.
It also explained the streak of steel beneath Iris's kindness.
"And on my tenth birthday… I realized my eyes had a special power."
"The Seven Eyes?"
She nodded.
From that day on, everything changed.
Fine robes replaced rags.
A warm room replaced a cold bed.
And she gave up her surname.
"Saints are 'children of God.' They're not allowed to carry surnames."
She gave up her mother's name—for a title not of her choosing.
"Sometimes… I wonder what would've happened if I didn't have these eyes."
Her expression twisted with quiet grief.
"It's a foolish thought, I know. Thanks to these eyes, I never had to struggle. I was given everything."
She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and soft all at once.
"..."
"…Is it okay to tell me something like this?"
If the world learned that the saint of the Holy Nation was an orphan, it could shatter her image.
"I trust you, Mr. Dale."
No hesitation.
"...Why?"
I looked at her, puzzled.
Iris scratched her head sheepishly.
"I don't really know. I'm not the type to open up easily. But when I see you… I get this strange feeling."
She smiled faintly.
"Like we've known each other for a long time. Maybe in a past life or something."
"…!"
"Oh come on, don't make that face. I know it sounds crazy."
She poked my cheek with a teasing grin.
"But still, I'm only telling you because I trust you. So, zip it, alright?"
"…Got it."
She grinned and skipped outside.
"…Iris."
I stared out the window at her.
It hadn't disappeared.
The bond. The time we shared. I thought it had melted away like snow.
But the water remained.
The memory remained—quiet and invisible—but never gone.
"Dale! Bring the pot out!"
I clenched my fist.
Then picked up the pot and followed.
Later…
"This is ramen?"
"This is amazing!"
"Ugh… I'm so jealous of the Republic kids. All we get are leafy greens!"
Father Antonio, ever the skeptic, picked up a strand and took a reluctant bite.
"…Ahem."
Then scooped more ramen into his bowl without a word.
The courtyard rang with laughter and slurping.
Except for one person.
"…Camilla."
She stared into her empty bowl, brows furrowed.
I sat beside her.
"Is this about earlier?"
"…You."
"Sorry. The kids were watching. I had to let you win."
She shook her head.
"No… it's not your fault. I just wasn't strong enough."
Her voice was taut with frustration.
Telling her she was strong would sound like pity.
Instead…
"So, you're sulking because you lost once?"
"…What?!"
"Wow, the future of the Holy Kingdom's sword is this pathetic?"
"Grr! Shut up!"
She leapt up, pointing her chopsticks at me like a weapon.
"Just wait! Next time I'll make sure you can't say a single word!"
"I'm counting on it."
I chuckled.
"Ooh! That spar earlier was so cool!"
"Yeah! Like real heroes!"
The children swarmed around us again.
One grinning boy suddenly piped up.
"By the way… don't you think you two look good together?"
"Huh? Really?"
"They were totally in sync!"
"Are you two dating? Aren't you?"
Camilla and I both stiffened.
"…Leo."
"Yeah? Iris, don't you think—"
"Leo."
Iris appeared beside him with a smile too sweet to be pure.
"Come with me for a second."
"…Huh?"
"Now."
She led him away.
Five minutes later—
"I-I take it back! They don't look good together at all!"
"Didn't you just say they did?"
"N-no! If anything, Iris matches Mr. Dale way better!"
Tears welled in Leo's eyes.
I sighed and glanced at Iris.
'What did you do to that poor kid…?'