Side Story. The Path to You

“The black-haired one will win.”

Ion’s ears perked up as he dragged his heavy body, barely moving.

Among the students currently sparring, he was the only one with black hair.

Perhaps it resonated more because his opponent was Gerick.

Though they shared the same imperial bloodline, the way people looked at them was as different as heaven and earth.

Gerick lacked nothing thanks to his mother’s wealth.

Ion lost his mother at birth and barely survived with the help of a wet nurse and maid assigned by the Emperor merely for appearance’s sake.

Being the same age, the two were frequently compared in people’s conversations.

After they both entered the academy, the comparisons increased.

Even when he didn’t want to hear it, Ion could personally feel how different his circumstances were from Gerick’s.

The differences were evident in everything from their clothing to trivial things like what they ate.

Above all, what Ion found most unbearable was that Gerick never lacked people around him.

From attendants who never left his side to friends arranged through his mother’s connections, Gerick was always surrounded by people.

Watching Gerick made Ion understand what loneliness truly meant.

This loneliness intensified during sword sparring sessions.

Being the same age with comparable skills, Ion and Gerick often became sparring partners.

Each time, Ion felt deflated by the voices cheering for Gerick.

He lost his fighting spirit before even beginning.

But today, for the first time, a voice predicting Ion’s victory echoed through the training grounds.

Ion burned with a competitive spirit, determined to win more than ever before.

‘Someone is cheering for me.’

While Erika had merely voiced an objective observation rather than intentionally cheering for Ion, it was a statement he couldn’t possibly ignore.

Ion didn’t want to disappoint Erika who had said he would win.

Defeating Gerick without full effort would have been easy enough, but he approached the match with unprecedented focus.

Ion struck Gerick’s sword with firm strength.

Gerick had weak wrists and couldn’t properly withstand strong strikes.

Just then,

“He’s obviously weak. Especially the wrists.”

Erika precisely pointed out the weakness Ion had targeted.

Ion was pleased that Erika shared his thoughts.

He was extremely happy that Erika had recognized Gerick’s weakness—a weakness he thought only he had noticed.

Ion began moving faster to exploit another of Gerick’s weaknesses.

Gerick’s posture had already collapsed after the severe impact to his sword hand.

Ion fiercely pushed Gerick, swaying him left and right.

Then Erika’s voice was heard again.

“His footwork is terrible. He won’t last long like that.”

Hearing Erika’s words, Ion was overjoyed.

‘I agree completely. Time to finish this.’

Ion swung his sword as he moved in toward Gerick’s left side.

Gerick turned his sword to defend against Ion’s attack coming at his flank, but his footwork tangled and he fell.

Gerick’s sword rolled across the floor.

“Yes!”

Ion raised both hands in the air with a victory shout.

Gerick’s face turned bright red.

Soon Gerick approached Erika, wrapping his embarrassment in anger.

“I thought you’d learned your place, but apparently not?”

Gerick sneered at Erika with a crooked posture.

Ion’s joy, which had filled him like he’d gained the whole world just moments ago, cooled.

He worried Gerick might harm Erika.

Sure enough, the cowardly Gerick challenged Erika to a sword match.

Erika wasn’t even part of the swordsmanship club, and despite being the Duke of Sparta’s daughter, she was known to have no talent with the sword.

While Ion watched with concerned eyes, Erika surprisingly accepted Gerick’s proposal without hesitation.

“Erika, don’t.”

“Why? He asked for a match. Shouldn’t we obey His Highness the Prince’s command?”

Hermes tried to stop Erika, but she pretended not to hear.

And so began the match between Gerick and Erika.

Ion was so shocked he couldn’t close his mouth.

As soon as Hermes announced the start of the match, Erika’s attack showed no mercy.

Gerick crumbled pitifully under Erika’s sword and rolled on the ground, crying out in pain.

Yet Erika didn’t stop.

Erika swung her sword while announcing where she would attack next, and Gerick had to take her strikes directly with his body, unable to stop the match.

Gerick’s attendants, who had been standing in shock with their mouths open, finally rushed to attend to him after his body went limp.

“To the infirmary! Quickly!”

Gerick’s attendants carried him off to the infirmary.

“Pff, pfft, bwahahahaha!”

Ion burst into laughter without realizing it.

Fortunately, his habit of hiding from people’s eyes meant he had also watched Gerick and Erika’s match from a hidden spot.

Ion laughed until his sides hurt, but no one discovered him.

After that day, Ion couldn’t take his eyes off Erika.

Erika was the only person who didn’t cower before Gerick.

Erika’s sword was honest and yielded to no one.

Ion wanted to cross swords with Erika and lingered around her.

But Ion wasn’t the only one circling around Erika.

Many academy students hovered around her hoping to exchange even a single word.

However, their efforts were mercilessly blocked by Gerick.

“Get lost! How dare someone like you think you could associate with Erika?”

Though Gerick had been thoroughly defeated by Erika, he remained arrogant.

He acted as if he were Erika’s closest friend, and no one could approach her without his permission.

Having experienced Erika’s strength firsthand, Gerick wanted to make her strength his own.

Ion too found it difficult to get anywhere near Erika, let alone spar with her, because of Gerick’s strong barrier.

Overcoming the Gerick obstacle was extremely difficult.

Erika mostly hung around with Hermes and didn’t know what Gerick was doing behind her back.

※※※

On the Emperor’s birthday, Ion received foods he rarely tasted otherwise.

‘Didn’t Erika like strawberries?’

Strawberries were difficult to taste even when it wasn’t the middle of winter.

Ion had only tasted them a few times himself.

Looking at the dainty strawberry perched on top of a white cream cake, Ion thought of Erika.

The Duke of Sparta, one of the Empire’s wealthiest nobles, would spare nothing for Erika’s palate.

If Erika wished, strawberries might grace her table year-round.

Nevertheless, Ion wanted to give Erika this single slice of strawberry cake that had been sent down to him for the Emperor’s birthday.

He felt he would be satisfied just seeing it enter Erika’s mouth.

After much hesitation, Ion asked his wet nurse to carefully package it.

He wanted to take it to the academy.

However, Gerick discovered it before it could reach Erika.

“You, did you bring this for Erika? Do you think Erika is a beggar?”

Thud.

With Gerick’s merciless gesture, the box containing the cake rolled across the floor.

Even without opening it, it was obvious the cake inside would be smashed.

“At least this much is necessary if it’s for Erika.”

Gerick’s chief chamberlain smugly showed a cake box laden with plenty of strawberries.

It was on a completely different level from Ion, who could only get a single slice on the Emperor’s birthday.

Ion had never felt more ashamed of his lack of money than on that day.

He threw the smashed cake into the trash bin and turned away.

Though of imperial blood, he lived at the bottom while Erika was noble as the sky above.

Gerick had shown him that difference.

Through Gerick, he painfully felt the gap between rich and poor that he couldn’t sense from the usually unpretentious Erika.

Ion clenched his fist until his nails dug into his palm and bled, vowing to earn money.

He would earn money by any means necessary and climb to the top.

He would surely claim what his useless bloodline couldn’t give him.

※※※

Ion began working as a mercenary, hiding his imperial bloodline.

He wore a mask to avoid being recognized and operated under the name Simon.

It wasn’t easy having to balance it with his academy studies.

He often missed academy days when assigned long-distance missions that took time.

Nevertheless, Ion stubbornly attended the academy.

It was the only way to see Erika.

Whenever he fell into self-loathing after rough jobs, Ion sought out Erika’s training ground.

Her unwavering posture throughout training, her righteous sword still untainted by the world, her fantastic aura blade drawn out cleanly, and even the lovely smile she secretly showed only to her sword at the end of training.

All of these became Ion’s source of vitality.