Fly, take off~

The study in the Wolfgang estate was less a place for conducting business and more a museum of the family’s military honors.

Heavy oak bookshelves were crammed with yellowed tomes on military strategy and atlases of the continent, but what took up even more space were the gleaming, polished weapons and the mounted heads of fearsome magical beasts that adorned the walls.

Geralt von Wolfgang, the current head of the family and the Empire’s Lion General, stood with his back to the door, gazing at the largest portrait on the wall.

The man in the painting was his father, the previous Duke Wolfgang.

Geralt’s back was as broad as a mountain, his graying short hair impeccably neat.

Even at home, his spine was habitually held ramrod straight, as if ready to don his armor and march to war at any moment.

Time and the battlefield had carved deep lines into his face, but an unquestionable authority still burned within his deep blue eyes.

Returning to his seat, he habitually tapped his fingers on the heavy mahogany desk, producing a dull “thump, thump.”

Spread open on the desk was not some urgent military report, but a complaint letter from the Noah Royal Academy, its wording tactful but its core message clear—it concerned his “exceptionally talented yet bizarrely behaved” son, Xia Ya von Wolfgang.

He had once again openly challenged the tutor’s authoritative account of the “Great Dragon War” in his Imperial History class, citing several adventurer’s journals of dubious origin as evidence, nearly causing the old scholar to faint on the spot.

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Talent?’

‘The boy certainly has it. Whether in swordsmanship or his uncanny understanding of magic, he far surpasses his noble peers, even earning the praise of some old veterans in the army.’

‘But this personality of his…’

Geralt recalled his own youth; though he had been rebellious, he had at least understood the need to revere his family’s honor and the laws of the Empire.

And Xia Ya?

It was as if he were born to break these rules, dragging that little dragon-kin maid of his along as he turned the royal capital upside down.

Noble etiquette? Social circles? In his eyes, they were probably worth less than a peculiar ore from a dungeon that could be forged into a weapon.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

A series of rapid knocks, frantic in rhythm and utterly at odds with the estate’s usual solemn atmosphere, broke Geralt’s train of thought.

“Enter.”

The study’s heavy, carved wooden door was thrown open, and the Wolfgang family’s head maid practically stumbled inside.

“M-My lord! It’s terrible! Something’s happened! At… at the training grounds!”

The maid’s voice was shrill from haste, trembling noticeably.

‘Trouble at the training grounds?’

‘Did that Beilixiya girl lose control of her strength?’

‘Or is Xia Ya conducting another one of his dangerous magical experiments?’

Geralt asked in a deep voice, “Explain yourself clearly! Who? What happened?”

The maid took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but her voice still held a sob.

“It’s… it’s the Young Master! Miss Beilixiya… she sent the Young Master… flying!”

Geralt: “…?”

Even for the Lion General, who had weathered countless crises on the battlefield, his mind went blank for a second.

‘Beilixiya?’

‘That little dragon-kin maid who had followed Xia Ya around since she was a child, whom he’d picked up from the slums and raised like a younger sister?’

‘She sent Xia Ya… flying?’

‘Well, that’s slightly more normal than what I was imagining…’

Geralt knew that Beilixiya was exceptionally gifted, her strength growing daily as her dragon-kin bloodline awakened.

He also knew that his son spared no effort in finding rare resources to craft equipment for her; that greatsword, “Wrath of the Stars,” forged from the legendary Starglimmer Ore, was something even he considered a bit extravagant.

But Beilixiya’s loyalty and protectiveness towards Xia Ya were ingrained in her very bones.

How could she possibly…

“The reason?”

The head maid’s face instantly flushed crimson, her gaze darting away as if she found the words difficult to say.

“It… it’s because the Young Master… he… during their spar… he… used spatial magic…”

Geralt’s heart sank again.

‘Spatial magic?’

‘That boy is meddling with that forbidden, dangerous stuff again!’

‘Wasn’t nearly blowing up his study last week lesson enough?’

“…And then.”

The head maid’s voice suddenly dropped to a mosquito’s buzz, filled with immense embarrassment.

“The Young Master’s magic… it seemed to… go out of control… and it… it tore open Miss Beilixiya’s… breastplate and the clothes on her shoulder… Beilixiya… she just… on the spot…”

Geralt closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

He could almost picture the scene: on the training grounds, that brat Xia Ya was undoubtedly showing off some little spatial magic trick he’d dug up from who-knows-where, and it had backfired.

And Beilixiya, the dragon-kin girl who was usually as calm as still water and completely obedient to Xia Ya, had suffered such an embarrassing “accident” in full view of everyone, especially, perhaps, in front of the Young Master himself.

“Where was he sent flying? How are his injuries?”

Geralt rubbed his temples, his voice laced with fatigue and helplessness, but more than anything, a sense of “of course it’s that brat’s fault again.”

“He flew… flew over the training ground wall and… and landed in the apple orchard in the back garden!” the head maid answered hastily.

“The guards have already run over! Beilixiya… she’s… still standing there, holding her sword, and her whole body is trembling. It seems… it seems she’s terrified…”

The head maid’s voice was filled with sympathy for Beilixiya.

After all, everyone knew that for Beilixiya, whose duty was to be a guard, hurting the Young Master, even by accident, was an unbearable burden.

‘Landed in the apple orchard?’

‘Good. At least this time he didn’t land in the moat or crash into a castle turret. The boy’s lucky.’

‘As for Beilixiya’s reaction…’

He could already foresee the immense self-blame and terror that powerful dragon-kin girl would be plunged into for the next few days.

“Prepare my horse… No, I’ll walk over and see for myself.”

Geralt waved his hand, dismissing the head maid.

He needed a moment to process this chaotic situation and figure out how to handle this pair of troublemakers.

He walked to the window, his gaze directed towards the training grounds and the back garden.

A corner of his mouth seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly.

“That damn brat… serves him right.”

The training grounds, a few moments earlier.

“Young Master, are you certain?”

Beilixiya gripped the hilt of “Wrath of the Stars” with both hands, the tip of the blade angled toward the ground, her dragon eyes filled with helplessness and worry.

“After all, when you were researching that spatial array yesterday, you nearly…”

“Relax, relax!”

In the center of the field, Xia Ya looked eager to start.

He had changed into a set of form-fitting leather armor for ease of movement, his face wearing its usual roguishly confident smile.

“That was just an unstable theoretical model yesterday, a small accident! Today is different. This is a practical application! A super cool spatial deflection technique, inspired by Chapter Three, Section Seven of ‘Principles and Expansion of Applied Spatial Magic (Forbidden Arts Volume)’! It’s specifically designed to counter the kind of heavy, powerful attacks you favor! Watch closely!”

Before he had even finished speaking, Xia Ya began rapidly chanting an obscure incantation, his left hand splayed open, tracing several extremely complex, unstable silver runes in the air.

At the same time, the space around his body began to ripple like water, visible to the naked eye.

Alarm bells instantly screamed in Beilixiya’s mind.

It was that dangerous feeling again; she was all too familiar with it!

Every time the Young Master had that “genius discovery” look on his face and started fiddling with those profound runes, nothing good ever came of it!

“Young Master! Stop! That fluctuation is too unstable!” she shouted urgently, raising her greatsword and instinctively wanting to back away.

But Xia Ya was already charging.

His body moved like lightning, his rapier a silver streak aimed at the wrist of Beilixiya’s sword hand.

His movements were swift and cunning, clearly the practical skills honed from years of mingling in army barracks and with adventurer parties.

Simultaneously, the spatial runes on his left hand flared brightly.

“Deflection Field!”

Xia Ya yelled, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

In his mind, this field would cleverly interfere with the trajectory of Beilixiya’s greatsword, causing her powerful blow to miss, allowing him to close the distance.

However, reality is always full of surprises.

Just as Beilixiya was reflexively preparing to sidestep, block, and redirect the force, the very instant the heavy wind pressure from “Wrath of the Stars” began to build—

“Vmmm—shhhlick!!!”

The deflection rune in front of Xia Ya’s left hand did not form the gentle, stable deflection field he had anticipated.

Instead, it violently twisted and collapsed, erupting with a piercing, tearing sound!

An irregular spatial rift, its edges flickering with a dangerous black light, suddenly appeared!

The timing and position of this rift were simply perfect (or perhaps perfectly unlucky) to the extreme!

It materialized just outside the arc of Beilixiya’s greatsword swing, grazing the weak point where her right breastplate connected to her shoulder guard!

There was a sickening sound of tearing metal and ripping fabric!

Beilixiya felt a sudden coldness on her right chest and shoulder.

The sturdy outer layer of her alloy breastplate was torn open as if by an invisible claw, creating a large gash.

The cotton undergarment beneath, meant for absorbing sweat, was shredded like paper.

A large patch of snow-white skin and the budding curve of a young maiden’s figure were suddenly exposed to the sunlight.

The torn edges of the fabric even bore the scorched marks of erosion from the spatial energy!

Time seemed to freeze in that instant.

The few maids responsible for daily maintenance, watching from the edge of the training grounds, gasped in unison, their eyes wide as they slapped their hands over their mouths.

The excitement and pride on Xia Ya’s face instantly froze, replaced by utter shock and bewilderment.

He remained in his spellcasting posture, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, as if he had been petrified by his own magic’s backlash.

And Beilixiya…

She looked down, saw her skin exposed to the cold air, felt the direct touch of the sun, and… the stunned, stiff gazes from around the training grounds (though they quickly and fearfully lowered their heads or looked away).

An indescribable fire—a mixture of supreme shame, humiliation, and incandescent rage—erupted with a “BOOM,” shooting instantly from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head!

All the blood in her body seemed to rush to her head and cheeks.

Her fair skin turned crimson in an instant, the color spreading to the tips of her small ears and down her slender neck.

Her dragon pupils contracted to pinpricks for a moment, then were utterly ignited by a furious golden flame!

“YOUNG—MASTER—!!!”

A shriek imbued with a draconic aura, on the verge of a complete breakdown, echoed throughout the entire training ground!

It was not a sound a human could make, but rather the roar of a thoroughly enraged ancient beast.

A visible, pale gold shockwave exploded outwards from Beilixiya!

It was pure physical instinct.

The accumulated fear and worry from five years of “accompanying the Young Master on his death-defying antics,” the countless helpless prayers, and the ultimate humiliation of this public “shame”—all of it was channeled into her clenched right fist!

On that slender arm, the fine, silver-grey dragon scales covering it stood on end, and a terrifying power erupted!

“BOOM!!!!!”

A dull thud so heavy it could stop a heart!

Xia Ya felt a force that was simply irresistible, like being hit head-on by a high-speed battering ram, slam into his arms, which he had crossed to block in front of his chest!

His prized force-redirecting techniques and his tough arm bones were as brittle as crackers before this absolute power!

As the searing pain shot through him, his entire body was instantly freed from the pull of gravity!

His vision spun.

The wind howled in his ears.

He saw the azure sky, the soaring spire of the Wolfgang estate’s tower, the rapidly shrinking crenellations of the training ground wall, his great-grandmother who had long since gone to heaven, and the leafy apple orchard outside the wall rapidly growing larger in his vision…

‘Holy… shit…’

Those were the last two words that flashed through Xia Ya’s mind before he completely lost control of his body.

Then, in a beautiful parabolic arc, accompanied by a few leaves kicked up by the shockwave, he crashed heavily into the depths of the back garden’s apple orchard, followed by the crackling sound of breaking branches and the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground.

On the training grounds, a dead silence fell.

Beilixiya remained in her punching stance, her scale-covered fist still hanging in mid-air, trembling slightly.

The golden flames in her eyes quickly faded, revealing the amber color beneath.

She slowly lowered her head, looking at her exposed skin, then in the direction her young master had disappeared, and finally, her gaze fell upon her own fist, which contained such terrifying power.

“Young… Master?”

She murmured his name, her voice filled with immense confusion and disbelief.

Then, like a cold tide, fear and self-blame instantly overwhelmed her.

And at the other end of the estate, Duke Geralt von Wolfgang, having already received the head maid’s frantic report, was striding toward the apple orchard in the back garden, his face a complex mixture of annoyance, helplessness, and a hint of “I knew this would happen.”