Apparently, Her Highness Princess wants to keep her relationship with me a secret (what does she even mean by 'her relationship with me'?) - 3-11

3-11

The Client is a Former Classmate

The sight before my eyes was nothing short of the essence of Combat Arts.

Julianne raised her right hand, and pointed towards Harold like done with a pistol.

“Oh Lightning,—Pierce, Thy Yellow Light!”

Lightning shot from her fingertips, striking through Harold’s right shoulder. But his momentum didn’t stop—there was no way he would stop from just that.

Like a heavy tank, he charged towards her to attack, and roared.

“You idiot! Your static shocks don’t even give an itch, let alone hurt!”

Harold’s right arm punched through her stomach.

Her body floated slightly, while Harold followed up by kicking her from the side, sending her flying. Just watching from here made me wince in pain—that was definitely an overkill.

But, that’s fine. If she wants to shake off the villainous image she built in here, being overboarded is exactly what she needs.

Harold, make her go through hell, enough to have the audience pity her instead. Go all out.

“…”

“Princess Emma, this is combat arts. One day, you’ll be forced to participate in that as well. That day, not having a Magical quirk or not, such excuses won’t be accepted.”

“I… I know that. But, Itose-kun… your friend, isn’t he being way too harsh?”

“The healers here are top-notch. As long as she doesn’t die, she’ll be fine.”

Harold glanced at me, then shifted his gaze a little to check the person, Princess Emma, standing beside me. His expression was clear—he was pissed.

That look said, “Why are you flirting with her there? Just drop dead over there.”

“It’ll be over soon, Princess Emma.”

“Ugh, uwaa… that looks so painful…”

Harold’s irritation was taken out on her. As the harsh resounding impact echoed into our ears, she finally passed out. Harold also had taken some little injuries himself, nothing major.

Under the deafening cheers, Harold raised his right hand. Oi, Harold—that too much. See? The cheers instantly turned into boos. When a baron’s house gets cocky, that’s what happens.

He frowned and glanced at me. As I made a small fist with my right hand towards him, he grinned, joyfully waving his right hand lightly in return.

Tonight’s dinner is definitely on me huh.

It was one morning, after a few days had passed since I got struck black and blue, endlessly by her lightning as her third-hand. Without any aftereffects, I was back to enjoying my regular daily life.

One morning, as I was fixing my bed hair, a letter arrived.

When I checked the sender’s name, my consciousness jolted me into getting full awake.

Requests and payments were always tucked discreetly into envelopes like this once achieved.

“…”

The sender was the shop owner, obviously by that famous figure himself—Dan Westminster—. The paper contained all sorts of information: my next job, the challenge against Rank Eight, and what lay ahead.

But none of that mattered compared to one single line:

—If you knew your beloved hadn’t given up on her dream, what would you do?

My heart immediately started pounding faster. Even though I hadn’t moved a muscle, sweat beaded on my forehead.