Never Die Villain

"Cousin Ilya... you really ought to do something about it. It doesn’t sit right with me, hearing the way some of our cousins speak about you."

Ilya simply let out a chuckle.

"Is that so?" He slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat as they continued walking through the palace gardens. "Let them talk. They’re only brave enough to whisper when I’m not around. Put them in front of me, and they’ll suddenly remember their manners before running back to hide behind their fathers."

"...Even so, the things they’re saying are awful."

"They’ve always been awful." Ilya shrugged. "Whether it was because I’m Father’s illegitimate son or because I couldn’t live up to the Belozersky name, someone always had something to say. Compared to that, a few rumors from the academy don’t really bother me."

Ekaterina lowered her gaze.

"...Doesn’t it bother you?"

"It used to."

"Ah..."

"But after hearing the same things for years, you eventually stop caring whether they’re true or not. People believe whatever is most convenient for them. Trying to correct every rumor is exhausting."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"If they truly believed everything they said about me, they wouldn’t wait until I left the room to say it."

"...I see."

Their conversation continued for a while longer as they wandered through the palace grounds.

Before long, however, a loud cheer echoed from somewhere in the distance, followed by the sound of steel colliding against steel.

"The duels must have started," Ilya said. "Shall we go have a look?"

Ekaterina nodded. "I’d like that."

The two changed direction and made their way toward the training grounds, where the voices grew louder with every step. By the time they arrived, a sizeable crowd had already gathered around the dueling arena.

Ekaterina blinked in surprise. "...Lady Anastasiya?"

"I didn’t think Anastasiya would even bother entertaining them," Ilya said as his eyes settled on the arena below. "They must’ve finally gotten under her skin."

The two stopped near the edge of the crowd and looked down at the training grounds.

The duel had already begun.

Maksim Viktorovich Morozsk attacked first and never seemed to stop attacking after that. One swing followed another, each strike having enough force that an ordinary knight would have struggled to meet it head-on, yet Anastasiya received every one of them without giving up so much as a single step.

Steel rang out across the training grounds again and again as their swords collided, but no matter how fiercely Maksim pressed forward, he failed to move her from where she stood.

"...She’s not attacking," Ekaterina murmured.

"She doesn’t need to. She only does that when the gap is too large."

To Anastasiya, the duel had already been decided the moment it began.

She let Maksim throw everything he had at her first. Every technique he had spent years polishing, every combination he believed could turn the tide, every ounce of strength he could muster, she accepted all of it without so much as taking a step back.

Only after he had nothing left to show would she end the duel.

It was a habit she had developed years ago. Nothing shattered a person’s confidence more thoroughly than discovering that the very best they had to offer had never been enough to make her draw her sword in earnest.

It was a fighting style Ilya knew all too well.

Growing up, Anastasiya had always been the one trying to catch up to him. Every defeat stung her pride, and every defeat became another reason to push herself harder than the day before.

Once she finally overtook him, she repaid every loss in full, never missing a chance to remind him that the days when he was above her were long over.

In the end, the outcome was exactly what everyone had expected.

The instant Maksim’s sword escaped his grasp and fell on the stone floor of the training grounds, the duel came to an end.

Anastasiya lowered her own blade without so much as breaking a sweat, while Maksim remained staring blankly at the empty hand that had failed to hold onto his weapon.

A moment later, applause erupted from every direction.

——As expected of Lady Anastasiya!

——The future Heir of Severye!

The cheers echoed throughout the training grounds as members of the Belozersky family applauded the victory they had all anticipated from the very beginning.

Even many of the elders watching from the sidelines nodded in satisfaction, for to them, the result had merely reaffirmed what they had believed for years—that no member of the younger generation could yet stand on equal footing with Anastasiya Valentinovna Belozerskaya.

Maksim lowered his head.

"...Thank you for the duel, My Lady."

Anastasiya gave a small nod before returning her steel sword to its scabbard.

"You’ve improved," she said. "Keep training."

That single sentence was enough to leave Maksim standing there in silence.

Coming from anyone else, they might have sounded like empty words of consolation.

Coming from Anastasiya, it was the highest praise she had ever given an opponent.

At that moment, before Ilya even realized someone had approached him, an arm suddenly draped itself over his shoulder.

"Damn it!" the familiar voice groaned. "Lady Anastasiya is way too cool!"

Ilya turned his head.

"...Cousin Aleksei."

Aleksei Yegorovich Karskin leaned almost half his weight against Ilya, his eyes still fixed on the training grounds where Anastasiya was receiving congratulations from every direction.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of disappointment on his face despite having watched yet another man fail to win her attention. In fact, he looked even more captivated than before.

"Did you see that?" Aleksei said, pointing toward the arena with enough enthusiasm that he nearly shook Ilya along with him. "That last exchange! How am I supposed to give up after watching something like that?"

"Then why don’t you challenge her yourself?" Ilya said. "Who knows? If you manage to win, she might finally look your way."

Aleksei immediately recoiled as though Ilya had suggested something completely unreasonable.

"Win? Against Lady Anastasiya? If I lose, she’ll probably forget my name before I’ve even hit the ground!" He crossed his arms and shook his head. "I don’t fight battles I know I can’t win!"

"...That’s surprisingly sensible."

"Exactly!" Aleksei nodded proudly. "Courtship is all about strategy. If I’m going to embarrass myself, I’d rather do it through another marriage proposal than by getting beaten unconscious in front of the entire family."

"...I’m not sure that’s any better."

"Well..." Aleksei scratched the back of his head with an awkward grin. "Now that you mention it... maybe it isn’t."

He suddenly paused.

A grin slowly spread across his face as though an idea had just occurred to him.

"Hey!" He gave Ilya’s shoulder a light shove. "Why don’t we have a duel?"

"...Me?"

"Yes, you."

"You have nothing to gain from beating me," he said. "As for me, I have everything to lose if I lose."

"Only if you lose!" Aleksei laughed. "Come on, you’ve been at Holy Trinity Academy for months now. Surely you’ve picked up a few tricks while you were there!"

Ilya didn’t answer right away.

By coincidence, Anastasiya happened to glance in his direction while leaving the training grounds. The moment she noticed Aleksei standing beside him, her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a look that practically said, ’Don’t even think about it.’

"...."

Ilya looked back at Aleksei.

"Alright."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Let’s do it."

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