For several weeks, the trio continued their private sparring sessions in the training grounds, leaving the soldiers utterly astounded by Isao and Isla along with the 9th Princess's exceptional rapier prowess. Her two personal bodyguards proved to be formidable opponents, their skills matching Sylveria's in a dazzling display of swordsmanship. Aside from the king and the older princes and princesses (ranging from the 1st to the 7th), it became increasingly evident that none could rival their expertise. Even the high-ranking generals and captains who observed their practices were left in a state of wonder, their amazement palpable. While conceding that the seasoned generals might hold a slight advantage in individual duels due to their age and experience, ranging from 40 to 50 years old, the gaping disparity in their ages only served to heighten the generals' incredulity.
Prince Maxwell leaned against a pillar, arms crossed as he observed the training grounds with a gentle smile. Watching his younger sister Sylveria effortlessly matching her sparring partners, paired with the formidable duo of Isla and Isao, brought a twinkle to his eyes. These three prodigies, each less than a decade old, were already eclipsing the skills of many seasoned soldiers and officers. He mused aloud, "Impressive, isn't it? Little Sylvia, quite the fencer. And her friends... a perfect pair of lethal blossoms. They may lack in size, but certainly not in strength and prowess. Who knows? Maybe they'll surpass us older royals one day." The jest carried a hint of envy, acknowledging the unbridgeable gap in potential between these young talents and the established elites.
Around them, murmurs of astonishment rippled through the assembled military personnel, generals, and nobles.
Later after their training, the warm bathwater enveloped them, Isla floated lazily, her gaze drifting upwards to the ceiling adorned with floating soap bubbles. An amused glint sparkled in her eyes as she pondered whether they would pop at any moment. Suddenly, she broke the silence, addressing Sylveria directly. "Hey, since Isao and I are your personal bodyguards, when do we get paid around here?" Her question was met with a quizzical look from the princess. "Why the hurry to earn coins, exactly? Aren't you free to indulge in all the palace cuisine you desire?" Sylveria inquired, genuinely curious about Isla's motives. A soft, wistful smile played on Isla's lips as she responded, "Well, it's not about needing food, per se... I simply wish to lighten the load for my parents." Her statement drew sympathetic smiles from both Sylveria and Isao. "And so, I could buy some ice cream from the alley shop in the slums" Isla added making Sylveria and Isao fall on the water comedically.
Sylveria and Isao burst into laughter, their splashes sending ripples through the warm bathwater. Sylveria playfully splashed Isla, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Silly Isla, we knew that about you all along." Sylveria teased, her smile softening. "Using your allowance to indulge in street vendor treats - a habit hard to break, I'm sure." Isao nodded in agreement, her own grin never faltering. Isla maintained her nonchalant stance, but a hint of pink crept onto her cheeks. "What? It's not that bad. Ice cream's a perfectly reasonable craving." The trio settled back into the comforting embrace of the tub, the sound of gentle lapping against the porcelain mixing with their idle chatter.
The next day, the trio decided to go to the ice cream shop and as Isla led her companions through the labyrinthine streets of the slums, the pungent aroma of sweat, smoke, and waste mingled with the sweet tang of ice cream. Isao and Sylveria marveled at the vibrant colors and lively energy of the downtrodden quarter, a stark contrast to the opulence of the castle they called home as they continue their stroll while licking their ice cream. Sebastian trailed discreetly behind, his trained senses alert for any sign of danger amidst the sea of faces. Though the trio's abilities were nothing to scoff at, he knew the harsh realities that lurked in every shadow. His worries were hardly assuaged when they encountered Isla's childhood tormentors, a group of rough-looking boys who sneered at the interloper. Without missing a beat, Isla dispatched the gang with brutal efficiency, leaving them crumpled in the dirt. Sebastian bit back a gasp, impressed by the raw power on display.
Following their tour of the impoverished slums, the trio ventured into the more affluent sections of town, seeking refreshment in the form of decadent ice cream. Isla's eyes lit up with delight at the first taste, her initial experience in these upscale establishments proving thoroughly enjoyable despite the higher prices. After savoring their sweet treats, the companions stumbled upon a tailor's shop, prompting Isla to enthusiastically present a sketch to the elderly proprietress. However, the tailor's face contorted in confusion as she struggled to decipher the bizarre design. Sensing the tailoress hesitation, Sylveria let out a weary sigh, recognizing all too well the artistic limitations of her eccentric bodyguard. "She wants a pure white robe that negates slashes and remains spotless, even when touching the ground." the princess clarified, attempting to provide a more coherent description. The tailor's brow furrowed in concentration, her gaze darting between the intricate sketch Isla provided and the Princess explaining it. "Impossible to get dirty, you say? And negate slashes, hmm... This is a rather unique request." Her fingers tapped against the paper, contemplating the challenges of such a design.
"Princess Sylveria, might I suggest we revisit the details?" she proposed gently. "Creating garments with such exceptional properties would require cutting-edge techniques and materials, likely exceeding our workshop's capabilities."
Sylveria nodded understandingly, while Isao's curiosity piqued. "White robes that can't be stained? That sounds incredible, Isla. How did you come up with such an idea?" Isla shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by the tailor's skepticism. "Just something I thought would be useful. White, to symbolize purity. Unblemished, so as not to soil my attire with blood or dirt during battles. Sylveria leaned in close, speaking in a hushed whisper so as not to offend the tailor's sensitive hearing. "Isao, did you ever notice Isla's wardrobe choices back in our previous lives? Although simple, those outfits were incredibly complex."
Meanwhile, Isla interjected, her voice steady and decisive. "Fine, Tailoress. I'll settle for a white silver robe for now. Please disregard the slash-nullifying aspect, but make sure it remains stain-resistant." A flicker of uncertainty crossed her features, born from the tailor's earlier admission that her original request exceeded the workshop's capabilities. Nevertheless, Isla remained hopeful, trusting in the skilled artisan's ability to create something truly remarkable within the given constraints. The tailor blinked, her eyes wide as she tried to parse Isla's modified request. "Silver and white, yes... and stain-resistant. While not ideal, we could attempt a durable yet washable fabric blend," she offered cautiously, hope mingling with trepidation in her voice.
As the tailoress set to work, Isla, Sylveria, and Isao conversed in hushed tones, the whispered exchange from earlier drawing the other woman's curious glance. Seemingly sensing an exclusive conversation, she retreated behind her worktable, diligently sketching patterns for Isla's requested silver ensemble. "Isla's garb was often simple yet ornate, reflecting her background as a sword saint," Sylveria explained to Isao, her voice barely above a murmur. Isao's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Intriguing."
As the tailor scribbled notes and measurements, Isao presented her own design vision, her creativity shining through in a bold, contrasting choice. "Here, consider this," she offered, unfurling a detailed sketch of a tight-fitting suit which is backless paired with an exquisite short kimono in a regal violet hue, adorned with delicate floral patterns featuring lavender petals. The elegant fusion of practicality and flair showcased Isao's unique aesthetic sense, eagerly awaiting the tailor's appraisal and subsequent translation into tangible garment. "This combines function and fashion, providing coverage without hindrance during intense battles." Isao explained, gesturing to the suit's strategic placement of padding and reinforced seams. "And the kimono serves as a symbolic reminder of my elegant power." The tailor listened intently, her pencil moving across the parchment as she captured every detail. "It appears we'll require increasingly larger robes each year, until our bodies cease to grow," Isla stated. "Indeed, as we continue to grow, our attire may need to adapt accordingly." Sylveria acknowledged, her gaze meeting Isao's and Isla's with a knowing smile. "But I believe these initial designs will serve as a solid foundation for our evolving needs."
Isao and Isla nodded in agreement, their minds already spinning with the possibilities of refining and enhancing their respective creations as they navigated this new world together. The tailor, meanwhile, eagerly awaited further instructions, inspired by the trio's innovative approach to combat fashion.
Sylveria's design revealed a fusion of functionality and grace, embodying the essence of her dual roles as a princess and the legendary "Ice Hero" from their prior existence. The light blue dress hugged her slender frame, accentuating her ethereal beauty while subtle, strategically placed armor plating hinted at the formidable power lurking beneath.
After departing the tailor's establishment, the trio decided to pay a visit to the Adventurer's Guild, eager to test their fortunes within its walls. Upon entering the hallowed halls of the guild, a collective hush fell over the bustling crowd, their attention drawn inexorably to the striking presence of the three youthful women. Veteran adventurers, seemingly oblivious to decorum, erupted into derisive mocking and raucous laughter at the absurd sight of these "girls" – particularly Sylveria's ethereal beauty and her companions. Undaunted, Sylveria approached the reception desk with confidence, her voice ringing out clear and steadfast. "Ms. Receptionist, my companions and I wish to register with the guild, if it's not too great an inconvenience." The receptionist, a young woman with a stern countenance, raised an eyebrow as Sylveria approached the desk. "Register? At your age, Miss? Most of our applicants are adults seeking a livelihood or experienced adventurers seeking better opportunities." Sylveria maintained her composed demeanor, unfazed by the skepticism. "I assure you, we possess unique skills and abilities that would be an asset to your organization. We'd like to demonstrate our prowess and prove ourselves worthy of guild membership." Isao and Isla stood proudly beside their friend, radiating confidence and determination. The receptionist hesitated, weighing the potential benefits against the unconventional nature of the request.
Climente, a renowned adventurer cackled heartily, his words dripping with condescension and disdain. "Haha, let's see these privileged brats prove themselves! A bunch of pampered pups, born with silver spoons and golden ones, thinking they can handle the rigors of adventuring. Pathetic, really. Probably clueless idiots as teachers, and neglectful parents who failed to properly educate them, haha!" His mocking laughter filled the guild hall, aimed directly at Isla's unyielding resolve as she unsheathed her trusty wooden sword, mirrored by Isao's growing anger beside her. However, Princess Sylveria's expression remained an enigmatic calm, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the crude insinuations. It wasn't the personal affronts that stirred her ire, it was the reckless disrespect Climente showed towards those dear to her that sparked Sylveria's indignation. She had witnessed firsthand the hardships endured by the people they had sworn to protect, the noble tutors whoguide her and her companions, and the loving parents who had dedicated their lives to raising these children. Climente's crass remarks cut deeply at the heart of all they stood for.
The receptionist hurried forward, her voice urgent. "Climente, please refrain from such vitriol! You're targeting the daughter of our beloved King and Queen. Insulting Her Highness is akin to provoking the entire royal family!"
The adventurer's wide grin faltered momentarily before he regained his smirking composure. "Oh, is that so? Well, then perhaps the little princess needs a dose of reality to humble her entitlement." As he locked gazes with Isla, who stood before him with a sheathed wooden blade gripped tightly in her small hand. "Well now, isn't this interesting? The pampered princess's temper flares at an offhand comment." he taunted as he held his broad sword, his tone dripping with condescension. "Tell me, Your Highness, are you going to cry or swing your toy sword at me? Because from where I stand, you look more fit for a tea party than an adventurer's trial." Isla's eyes flashed with indignation, the wood of her sword handle creaking as her grip tightened. Isao's face twisted in a scowl, her violet irises darkening with anger.
In a flash of unexpected brilliance, Sylveria stepped forward, her elegantly poised form a stark contrast to Climente's brawny posture. With a single, precise movement, her rapier intercepted the veteran's sword, the impact sending a ripple of strength through Climente's muscular frame, causing him to stumble backward. The princess remained statuesque, her light blue eyes never wavering from her foe, as she asserted her identity with icy composure.
"My apologies, Sir Climente. I fear there's been a grave misconception. I, myself, am the royal princess – not my companion." The measured cadence of Sylveria's statement was underscored by her unwavering stance, the proud gleam in her gaze underscoring the steel beneath her refined demeanor. Her words served as a clear rebuke to Climente's misguided assumptions, while also hinting at the depths of capability that lay beneath her demure facade.
As Climente regained his footing, he found himself facing Sylveria, her elegant stance exuding a regal authority that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Apologies, Princess." he spat, his voice tinged with a mix of reverence and mockery. "For a moment, I forgot myself in the presence of royalty. Please, forgive my impertinence." Sylveria's icy gaze never wavered, her grip on the hilt of her rapier unwavering. "Rather than birthright or upbringing, our strengths lie in our unique circumstances and abilities." With a fluid motion, she dismissed her rapier, letting it return to its sleek, ornate sheath at her side. "I suggest you focus less on our backgrounds and more on the challenge before us."
Isla's features set in a determined mask, her voice low and resolute as she addressed Sylveria. "Wait. He sought to test our abilities, and he insulted my parents. If you won't deal with him, I will." Without waiting for a response, Isla surged forward, her wooden sword glinting in the dim light of the guild hall. Climente, anticipating an inferior attack, smirked confidently as he raised his heavy broadsword to block. However, the veteran adventurer soon found himself caught off guard by Isla's signature move. In a blur of motion, she unleashed her recently practiced "Mana Enhancement" skill, infusing her hands and weapon with a burst of energy. The enhanced attack struck Climente's defenses with unparalleled force, his metal sword buckling under the assault. "Sky Splitter!" Isla proclaimed and Climente felt the attack became overwhelming.
The guildhall shook violently as Isla's powerful Sky Splitter tore through the structure, reducing the main chamber to rubble. Debris rained down upon the stunned onlookers, burying some while others narrowly escaped the destruction. From the depths of the chaos, Clemente emerged, dazed but remarkably unscathed. He stood amidst the devastation, gazing up at the torn adventurers guild in disbelief. His prized broadsword, once an extension of his fighting prowess, now lay cracked and mangled beside him. "How...impossible." he muttered, struggling to comprehend the sheer might behind Isla's onslaught. Isao and Sylveria watched from a safe distance, exchanging wide-eyed glances as they took in the magnitude of Isla's raw power.
As the repercussions of Isla's rash decision began to unfold, Sylveria's concerned expression mirrored her rising panic. "Quickly, we need to get out of here – now!" The princess and Isao swiftly moved to assist their injured friend, each grabbing an arm and dragging Isla away as rapidly as possible from the collapsing guild hall. Though carried by her companions, Isla's stoic facade belied her discomfort. "My hand... hurts." she muttered through clenched teeth, her normally detached aura replaced by an aura of annoyance and physical distress. Her friends redoubled their efforts, knowing full well the severity of her overexertion.
Once far from the guild, Sylveria addressed her companions, her words stern yet empathetic. "Isla, we warned you not to wield powers that demand such control without proper training!" "Shut up, Syl." Isla grumbled, her annoyance evident despite the gentle rocking motion as she was cradled between her friends. "My hand hurts, okay? It's not like I intended to split the bloody sky." Isao couldn't contain her excitement, however, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "Isla showed that arrogant jerk who's boss! He shouldn't have underestimated us!" Sylveria rolled her eyes, quickening their pace as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestone roads.
Back in the destroyed adventurers guild the receptionist's stern gaze bore into Clemente, her voice laced with disdain as she delivered the ultimatum. "Hey, this is on you. The reconstruction of the guild and the damages will be taken from your guild bank account. It's a good thing that the guild master is away in a business trip. Sigh..." Clemente's rugged features shifted, a flicker of unease replacing his previous bravado. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "Understood, I'll make sure it's settled. But perhaps the guild should reconsider its policies regarding underage applicants..." His words trailed off as the receptionist cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Our policies are clear. Adventurers of all ages are welcome, provided they can meet the necessary requirements. And your little incident today proves you're no exception when it comes to reckless behavior." The receptionist paused to catch her breath, surveying the ruined remains of the guild hall behind her before turning back to offer some context to the stunned onlookers.
"For the record," she began, "the young lady responsible for this destruction is actually none other than the princess's personal bodyguard – Isla. Quite an accomplishment, considering she was the same one who single-handedly defeated Bartolomeo, the renowned swordsman and High Duke's son. Due to her heroic actions, her charges were dropped, and she received merely a sentence of community service. Not bad for someone of her stature, right?"
She paused for dramatic effect, letting the news sink in before continuing. "Additionally, the second young lady accompanying the princess happens to be Isao, the daughter of Lord Lavender, a man many of you may recall lent considerable assistance during our darkest hours. So, calling them out for having influential, albeit imperfect, parents feels somewhat misplaced in this circumstance." The receptionist's words hung in the air, painting a far more complex picture than Climente's initial assumption. As the adventurers processed this new information, a mix of reactions played out across their faces - shock, disbelief, and begrudging respect.
"You're telling me that Isla, the girl who reduced our guild to rubble, is the same one who bested Bartolomeo and earned the princess's favor?" Climente questioned, his tone incredulous yet tinged with curiosity.
"And Isao's father is none other than Lord Lavender, who assisted us during that time our guild is experiencing lack of available quest?" another adventurer chimed in, his brows furrowed in realization. The receptionist nodded solemnly, her earlier annoyance giving way to a sense of resignation. "Yes, that's the situation we find ourselves in. It seems these children are more than they initially appear."
Within the tranquil confines of Princess Sylveria's chambers, a healer tended to Isla's wounded hand, mending the damage inflicted by her impetuous display of power earlier. The bodyguard remained seated, her expression sullen and her gaze distant as she nursed the soreness. Isao attempted to intervene, offering a papaya as a gentle reminder of the importance of moderation. However, Isla recoiled, her distaste for the fruit evident. "I hate papayas." she muttered, her preference for apples – which she believed upheld the ancient adage "an apple a day keeps the doctor away" – never wavering.
As the healing process progressed, Sylveria offered a pointed observation, her words laced with a touch of wisdom gleaned from their shared experiences."Isla, I suggest you employ a weaker force or power with your Sky Splitter"
Isla scowled because Isao kept trying to feed her, she kept rejecting the proffered papaya with a disdainful sniff. "I don't want that disgusting fruit." she grumbled, her gaze fixed on her bandaged hand. The healer's ministrations had done their job, but the memory of her miscalculation lingered, a source of frustration. "I told you, I wasn't trying to split the sky," Isla retorted, her tone defensive. "And even if I try I couldn't, the outcome would've been the same. My strength just isn't calibrated for this body yet and even if I swing with all my might my sky splitter no longer reaches the sky."
Isao offered a sympathetic smile, her eyes shining with empathy. "I know it's tough, Isa. But you're getting there. Remember, practice makes perfect." Sylveria's words, however, struck a chord within Isla. She regarded her friend thoughtfully, considering the princess's assessment about imploring a weaker power. "Maybe you're right, Sylv-" Isla's words were cut short as Isao firmly tapped her back, forcing her mouth to open wider. Before she could react, the papaya was shoved inside her mouth, the sweetness exploding on her tongue. Isla's eyes widened in surprise; her initial disgust quickly replaced by a reluctant acceptance.
Sylveria's laughter filled the room, her mirth infectious as she watched her companions' antics. "Oh, Isao, you always know just what to do to cheer her up," she teased, wiping tears of amusement from her eyes. Isla, her face flushing with embarrassment, glared at Isao with mock severity. "You're a menace, you know that?" she grumbled, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a hint of a smile. Despite her protests, she seemed to have forgiven Isao's playful intervention, the tension in the room dissipating as they returned to their usual banter.
