Rosie's Games

"Lady Seraphina..." General Alexander's tone remained surprisingly composed despite the tension in the air. Rosalind had expected him to attempt to pacify the Lady, but his next words were far from soothing. "Please close your mouth."

Rosalind blinked, exchanging a quick glance with Lucas. Memories from her past life flooded her mind; she knew this General would survive the initial months of the war, only to meet his end in the second wave of enemy attacks. The turning point of the war in Sloryn, where he had miraculously survived an ambush, had become the stuff of legends.

Although Rosalind's rebirth had altered the course of history and spared Sloryn from the devastating war, she couldn't alter the General's fate. It was akin to the tragic death of her friend Milith, whom she had tried to save in vain.

With the impending war against Korusta on the horizon, Rosalind couldn't help but wonder about the fate of this young General. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her heart.

Lady Seraphina's voice broke the silence, curiosity laced with disdain as she asked the General, "What did you just say?" Though their engagement was merely a formality, Seraphina held no love for General Alexander due to his non-noble background. His rise from humble beginnings, training under Seraphina's father, had been a source of displeasure for her.

To her, being born in the mountains and having a darker complexion rendered the General unworthy of comparison to the esteemed Princes of Sloryn. She had resented the forced engagement, her reputation at stake, but her father had pushed for it despite her objections.

"You—Did you just—" Lady Seraphina's voice wavered as she struggled to find the right words.

"Close your mouth," the General reiterated firmly, his eyes locked on Lucas with a seriousness that sent shivers down Rosalind's spine. Although taller than most men, the General appeared almost diminished in Lucas's presence. However, what alarmed him wasn't the height difference, but rather the faint aura of bloodlust emanating from Lucas.

The General recognized that predatory instinct from his encounters with wild animals in the past. He knew instinctively that Lucas was a formidable opponent, far beyond his own capabilities.

"This place is closed off to strangers," the General declared with resolve, addressing Lucas.

Lucas nodded, pleased with his own restraint, having chosen not to escalate the situation.

"Please leave," General Alexander added.

"Hmm..." Lucas nodded, an air of calmness surrounding him. Today, luck seemed to favor his mood, sparing anyone else from experiencing his wrath. He carefully returned his belongings to his pouch and clasped Rosalind's hand, leading her away from the contentious scene that had unfolded.

But just as they started to distance themselves, Seraphina's rage boiled over. She could not bear the perceived disrespect any longer and seized the hilt of her short sword, brandishing it threateningly at Rosalind. "Did you not hear me?" she demanded, her voice trembling with anger. "Leave your names, or do not even think about leaving this place!"

Her status as the daughter of a Duke had granted her a life of privilege and deference, and she could not tolerate this blatant disregard. Her heart pounded with indignation as she gritted her teeth, her fury now directed at Lucas, who seemed to dismiss her entirely, turning his attention to the General instead.

Before Seraphina could utter another word, a sudden, searing pain erupted in her wrist, causing her sword to drop to the ground, along with her hand.

"AHHHHH!" An agonizing scream pierced the air as blood spilled from the severed limb, her face draining of color before she collapsed, overwhelmed by shock and pain.

Her fiance, who had been standing behind her, rushed to her aid, aiding her while she lay unconscious. Lucas merely smiled, his words chillingly calm, "She is lucky... I am in an excellent mood today." Without further ado, he took the stunned Rosalind's hand and silently whisked her away.

Help finally arrived, but the damage had been done, and the General felt utterly powerless. He could not deny the truth before him – Lucas was an enigma, a master of the sword who moved with deadly precision.

The General did not even see Lucas move an inch! Everything happened too fast and the next thing they knew, Lucas was already gone.

The General's own skills paled in comparison, and he knew that confronting Lucas would be futile.

Back at the Duchy, General Alexander mustered the courage to recount the encounter to the Duke. His voice shook with a mix of regret and humility. "Yes, your grace, I speak the truth. I did not recognize the man. His appearance and swordsmanship were extraordinary. If he hailed from Sloryn, I would undoubtedly know his name," he confessed, his head hung low in shame.

The Duke, who had mentored and cared for the General like a father, listened with a heavy heart. "This is not your fault," he reassured the General. "We cannot predict every twist of fate. What matters now is moving forward and learning from this." The Duke frowned.

Still, General Alexander couldn't shake the weight of guilt, feeling that he had failed his esteemed mentor and allowed harm to befall his beloved daughter. In a moment of desperation, he stepped forward, presenting his wrist with a dagger in hand. "I must take responsibility," he declared firmly. "A hand for a hand. It is only fair."

"What do you think you are doing?" The Duke's voice reverberated within the confines of his study, his gaze piercing through the General, whom he had raised and cherished as his own son. "Stop this foolishness. Get up, I say! It won't change a thing!"

"But your grace, this—"

"She suffered because she failed to recognize strength. Consider this a lesson for her," the Duke interrupted sternly. "How could she behave with such arrogance, acting as if she owns the heavens? If that man is as powerful as you claim, she's fortunate he didn't take her life. If he could sever her hand so effortlessly, what would have stopped him from going for her neck?"