Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 68

Chapter 68

 

That afternoon, Cecil headed for the Saint Palace. He had been instructed to come discreetly, dressed comfortably.

When he arrived at the rear garden, there were already guests who had come before him. Claude looked no different from usual, while Yuria—rather than wearing a dress—was dressed in trousers, her long hair tied tightly at the waist with a leather cord.

“…Ah.”

Spotting the two of them, Cecil hesitated for a moment. He knew the misunderstanding had been cleared up, but since that incident, they hadn’t properly faced one another. A subtle tension crept over him.

“You’ve arrived.”

“Cecil, it’s been a while. The weather is wonderfully clear today, isn’t it?”

Claude and Yuria greeted him warmly, as though nothing had ever happened. Claude, as always, wore his stoic expression, but Yuria smiled with her characteristic brightness.

For some reason, his chest felt faintly itchy. Unfamiliar with the sensation, Cecil brushed the back of his neck and glanced around. The one who had summoned him here—Alexis—was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is His Highness?”

“No need to fuss about it.”

A voice cut broadly through the air behind them. When Cecil turned around, he saw Alexis just stepping out beyond the palace walls.

As the Crown Prince appeared beneath the blazing afternoon sun, everyone bent slightly at the waist in greeting. Everyone except Cecil, who alone held his head high.

“…What exactly did you summon us for?”

Alexis merely smiled at Cecil’s vacant expression and offered no immediate reply. His blue eyes then swept leisurely over those present.

“Claude, have you not explained yet?”

“No. I only just arrived myself, so—”

“Well, how irresponsible of you, as a mentor.”

Mentor?

At the unexpected word, confusion deepened on Cecil’s face.

When he looked straight at Alexis, silently asking for an explanation, their gazes met without difficulty. Alexis curved his lips into a peculiar smile.

“I’ve been rather worried, with two people so unbearably fragile. At the very least, you should be capable of protecting yourselves in a crisis. The Knight Commander will personally instruct you. He took the trouble to make time, so do your best to follow his guidance.”

As the Crown Prince delivered his decree, Claude nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. His posture was rigid, his chin tipped arrogantly upward—an infuriatingly haughty sight.

“…So, you’re saying Commander Claude will be teaching us self-defense?”

“And what’s wrong with that? You won’t find a better instructor.”

Cecil and Yuria both turned to look at Claude at the same time. Feeling the doubtful gazes directed at him, Claude raised an eyebrow.

“Why the reactions…?”

Yuria quickly averted her eyes.

“Your Highness, couldn’t it be someone other than Claude? He’s obviously going to do nothing but scold us and say nasty things.”

“I would also humbly request that you reconsider.”

When even Cecil added his opinion, Claude let out a sharp huff of disbelief. As the Knight Commander, this was the first time he had ever been rejected so outright. His displeasure showed clearly as his stubborn mouth jutted into a sulk.

But no one paid him any mind.

Growing desperate, Yuria stepped closer to Alexis and lightly grasped the hem of his clothing. She pleaded in a voice full of earnest longing.

“Wouldn’t you teach us yourself, Your Highness? We’re inside the Saint Palace anyway—no one will see.”

“Yuria, you know I’m not that idle of a man.”

Alexis smiled gently as he patted her shoulder. The tone was kind, but the refusal within it was unmistakable.

In the end, it meant they had no choice but to comply.

“I’ll be watching, so do it properly. It will definitely be useful if you learn it.”

Leaving only those words behind, Alexis turned away. As if truly busy, he didn’t even look back as he headed into the Saint Palace.

Those left behind in the rear garden fell into silence. Faced with the sudden order, Cecil could only sigh, while Yuria stood there looking dazed. Claude scanned their faces in turn, then twisted his lips into a crooked smile.

Loosening his body with a few warm-up motions, he spoke.

“So, who would like to start?”

Alexis went straight to his office. Though he had stepped out only briefly, his chief aide came running toward him as though some great calamity had struck.

“Your Highness, regarding this year’s tax implementation report—there’s a point you’ll need to review carefully.”

Before Alexis had even taken his seat, thick stacks of documents were delivered.

“Dyke, there’s no need to rush.”

Alexis shrugged off his jacket and dropped into the chair. Then he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He was fully prepared to immerse himself in state affairs.

Cecil and Yuria, who had begun their training with lukewarm attitudes, gradually grew quite interested in self-defense as time passed.

Unlike swordsmanship, which demanded strict adherence to fundamentals, self-defense could be applied immediately just as it was taught, giving it a distinct sense of excitement.

Claude’s exaggerated imitation of a rough street thug was surprisingly amusing, and there was even a thrill in subduing someone much larger through technique alone.

Since he couldn’t take on both of them at once, Claude called in his trusted vice-commandor.

While Claude handled Yuria, the vice-commandor approached Cecil and seized him firmly by the collar.

“If you don’t want to die, you’d better cooperate… sir.”

Polite phrasing, for a threat.

It was polite for a threat. Cecil stared blankly at the hand gripping his collar. When his gaze lifted again, a chill lingered in his emerald eyes, beautiful as jewels.

“And just who do you think you are, spouting that kind of nonsense at me?”

“Uh… you do know this is a role-play scenario, right?”

Seeing the murderous glint in Cecil’s eyes, the vice-commandor muttered nervously. In terms of strength or technique, Cecil would be easy enough to overpower—but the man hadn’t forgotten that Cecil was of imperial blood.

In the moment of his hesitation, Cecil grabbed the vice-commandor’s wrist tightly and slammed his fist into the man’s bicep. As the vice-commandor let out a strangled grunt from the sudden impact, Cecil didn’t forget to drive his knee upward as well.

“Urgh!”

The heavily built man collapsed helplessly. Even so, he didn’t release his grip on Cecil’s collar, and the two of them tumbled to the ground together.

“T-That’s cheating, isn’t it?!”

“Cheating or not, you said survival was the goal. That aside, you’re really heavy. Feels like I’m flipping a boulder.”

Cecil spoke while sprawled atop him. He’d succeeded in slamming the vice-commandor down, but the man’s body was so solid and heavy that Cecil’s strength was already draining away.

Even so, his mood was undeniably refreshed. Sweat streamed down his face, dirt and grass clung to his body, yet laughter bubbled up for the first time in a while.

Cecil wiped his brow with the back of his hand and lifted his upper body slightly.

“But isn’t it bad for us to be lying like this together?”

“Yes. At this point, you should immediately follow up with another attack. As you can see, I still have hold of you, Cecil.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Instead of pressing on my wrist, you should apply pressure here—”

Lying flat on the ground, the vice-commandor guided Cecil’s clumsy hands back and forth, even demonstrating the motion himself so Cecil could learn by feel.

“This is actually pretty fun.”

“Y-Yes… I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Let’s do it one more time. This time, don’t hold back—attack with everything you’ve got.”

“Then you really won’t survive!”

The vice-commandor abruptly flipped positions and pinned Cecil beneath him. He said that, but how could he truly go all out against a member of the imperial family?

When Cecil succeeded in throwing him down once more, he laughed aloud in delight.

Standing by the window of the office, Alexis glanced outside at the sound of laughter drifting in.

In his rear garden, people were tangled together, struggling and grappling. A faint smile spread across his face, which had been dry and impassive throughout his administrative work.

“He really does look better when he’s smiling.”

Beside him stood his chief aide, Tristan Dyke. As Tristan continued his enthusiastic report, he noticed the Crown Prince’s attention drifting outside and cleared his throat.

“Your Highness, may I continue?”

“Go on. I’m listening.”

Alexis replied without taking his eyes away.

“When His Majesty’s birthday celebration begins, guests from various nations are expected to arrive. In preparation, we should arrange opportunities to discuss diplomatic matters—”

“Why are they touching each other so much? Isn’t that excessive contact?”

At Alexis’s remark, Tristan leaned forward to peer out the window as well. Cecil and Yuria, fully absorbed in their self-defense training, came into view.

To Tristan, nothing seemed amiss. If anything, both of them appeared to be enjoying themselves.

“…It seems quite normal.”

“It’s excessive.”

Alexis frowned, clearly displeased.

Just then, Claude hoisted Yuria up and spun her around. At her small scream—Kyaa!—followed by laughter, Tristan clicked his tongue inwardly, understanding the Crown Prince’s mood. Who would enjoy seeing his woman pressed up against another man, joking around like that?

Stubborn to the bone, Tristan Dyke failed to notice—until the very end—that the Crown Prince’s gaze had long since drifted past Yuria and settled on someone else entirely.

After all, Cecil Adrian and the vice-commandor, climbing on top of each other, rolling around and grappling on the ground, were naturally excluded from his consideration.