Chapter 158: Rivalry
In any region, where there is light, there is also shadow—a timeless truth.
The noble society I’m involved with may shine in its glamour, but its underworld is rough, barren, and cruel.
Thieves’ guilds, black markets, red-light districts...
It’s a world ruled by the survival of the fittest, yet bound by rules dictated by the strong.
No need for ethics, no need for appearances—just power.
And in this lawless place, one can obtain things far rarer than what noble families hoard in their gilded estates.
’Normally, with my status, I’d never even be allowed to step foot here.’
But that wasn’t a problem.
Even with their restrictions on external nobility, I had a name.
[Faceless Imposter]
[Relations]
[Thieves’ Guild: Interest]
As long as I carried that reputation, the Guild wouldn’t dare double-cross me.
At that moment, my vision tinted with blue.
"What’s got you brooding so hard?"
I turned. Alice had stopped ahead, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips.
"I was reviewing our spar," I said evenly. "Even thinking of ways to win next time."
She raised her brow, amusement flickering in her golden eyes. "You dream big. You haven’t even seen the second technique of this sword yet."
...This cheeky brat.
Who taught her to provoke like this? She was scratching at my patience more skillfully every day.
But no—that wasn’t the problem.
The truth was, since she’d acquired that sword, Alice had never once shown her true strength in a duel.
"Just wait," I told her, my tone sharp. "I’ll win in a real fight."
The words left me with more weight than I intended. Because deep down, I knew: I lacked the raw talent she was born with.
Which is why I had to make up for it with something else.
Items. Tactics. Tricks. Whatever it took.
Otherwise, I’d be nothing but dead weight.
And that’s something I refuse to be.
There were always other options too—blood magic, shadow pin, the minor spells Velra drilled into me, and last but not least, the S-rank assassination footwork technique I kept buried like a hidden blade.
But I never showed my whole hand. Just as Alice never showed hers.
Well—except once.
At the tournament finals.
That was the only time I revealed the technique. And that was the one time... I beat her.
"Don’t get your hopes up."
Her voice pulled me back, her gaze steady, that same irritatingly confident smile still playing on her lips.
But for some reason, instead of grating on me, it only pushed me forward.
Maybe she saw only a loyal attendant determined to keep up.
Maybe she liked that.
But me?
I wasn’t going to settle for just being her shadow.
Not anymore.
Alice tilted her head, that faint smirk refusing to fade. "So you still cling to that single win at the tournament like it means something?"
I met her gaze without flinching. "It does mean something. It means that no matter how wide the gap is, you can bleed. You can lose."
Her eyes narrowed, though her tone stayed airy, mocking. "And you think you’ll repeat that fluke again?"
"Not a fluke," I said flatly. "Preparation. Timing. Reading you better than you read me."
She laughed softly, low and bright, the kind of laugh that could belong to a noble’s daughter but carried a sharpness only a fighter could forge. "You really don’t know when to bow your head, do you? Most attendants would’ve been grateful just to serve. You... want to catch up."
"I will catch up and not only that I will surpass you."
That stopped her smile for a fraction of a second. A flicker of seriousness crossed her face, like a shadow slicing through golden light.
Then it was gone, replaced by a smirk again. "Then I suppose I should take you seriously, shouldn’t I?"
"Maybe for once," I shot back.
For a moment, the street noise faded—the carriages rattling past, the voices from the taverns, the soft crunch of snow beneath boots. It was just her golden eyes and my resolve, locked in a silent clash sharper than steel.
"You talk big, Julies," she finally said, her tone softer now, almost... curious. "But what are you aiming for, really? To win against me? Or something else?"
The question cut deeper than her blade ever had.
I hesitated. I could say it was about victory, pride, refusing to be useless—but that wasn’t the truth.
No.
The truth was more dangerous, something I couldn’t just hand her so easily.
So I smiled faintly, "Guess you’ll just have to wait and see."
Alice studied me for a moment, then shook her head with a quiet chuckle. "Fine. Surprise me then. But don’t cry when I break you again."
"...We’ll see who breaks who," I murmured, more to myself than to her.
And though her smirk lingered, I caught it—the tiniest shift in her eyes. Not disdain. Not dismissal. Something closer to recognition.
She was starting to see me not just as her attendant.
But as her rival.
Alice’s smirk widened, the kind that made you want to knock it off her face. "Rivalry suits you, Julies. Too bad you’re aiming at the wrong opponent."
I arched a brow. "Wrong opponent? You’re the one standing in front of me."
She flicked her fingers toward the sword at her hip. "Exactly. Which means no matter how many tricks you stockpile, the gap will only grow wider. Every day I sharpen this blade, every day I sharpen myself."
"Then I’ll sharpen twice as fast," I said. "Even if I have to cut corners, cheat, or crawl through shadows to do it."
Her laugh rang out again, mocking, like she’d heard a child brag about conquering the world. "That’s the problem with you. Always scheming. Always hiding. You’ll never understand what it means to win in the open."
"I don’t care about honor," I shot back, stepping closer. "I care about winning. And when it happens again, I don’t need anyone to clap for me—I’ll know it’s real."
Her golden eyes gleamed, sharp and unyielding. "Then be ready. Because the next time you step in front of me, I won’t hold back. No borrowed tricks will save you."
I matched her stare. "Good. Because if you don’t hold back, then beating you will actually mean something."
For a second, her lips parted, as if a retort was already on her tongue—then she shut it, the smirk returning with even more bite. "Careful what you wish for, Julies. Some people don’t survive getting what they want."
"And some people," I replied evenly, "don’t survive underestimating me."
The silence that followed was heavy, but not empty. It was the silence of blades drawn but not yet clashing.
Alice turned first, striding ahead without looking back. But I saw it—the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, the kind of smile that only a worthy opponent could draw out.
And for me? That was enough. For now.
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Author Note:
Thank you for reading the Chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.
It’s my second novel so if there’s any kind of mistakes you find in the novel related to grammar please tell me and I’ll edit it as soon as possible.