I Became the Maid of the Lout Prince

Chapter 411

Ethan and I reached a compromise: instead of him earning rewards by defeating Harold in sparring, I would earn them by managing to defeat Ethan.

But, of course, this agreement alone didn’t solve our… reward situation. Ethan would only reward me if I could genuinely win against him in a sparring match.

…That won’t be easy.

I knew Ethan’s swordsmanship better than anyone, and that knowledge only heightened my doubts. Unlike my bouts with Harold, where I sometimes managed to pull off a victory through luck or trickery, I had never once claimed a proper win against Ethan.

There was always the chance that Ethan might hold back just to give me the reward, but I had my pride. I would refuse any victory that came too easily.

It was my idea, after all. If anything, I’d rather Ethan put his all into it and treat me like a serious opponent.

As far as timing went, this wasn’t so bad. Around this term, I’d found myself wanting to close the gap in skill between us. With all the free time from the extended breaks, I’d sparred enough with Ethan to clearly recognize the difference in our abilities, which only fueled my desire to improve. Even though my primary talent lay in magic, it was crucial to be adept with a sword, especially in emergencies.

It would definitely help to be proficient in swordsmanship for self-defense when I pursue a life as an adventurer.

The day after I proposed this idea to Ethan, we both entered the training ground once more. An hour later, I was sitting on the ground, exhausted, my hand struggling to maintain a grip on the sword.

“Ha… ha… ha…”

“Lilith, do you want to take a break? You’ve been at it for nearly an hour without stopping,” Ethan suggested.

“Huff, huff… Thirty seconds is all I need, Master Ethan.”

“You should rest longer. Last time, you almost hurt yourself when you got up too soon.”

“…Fine, then. I’ll take a minute.”

Though Ethan’s expression suggested he thought even a minute was too short, I wasn’t willing to extend it any longer. It was nearly time for lunch, and considering the afternoon’s tasks, I wouldn’t have many more chances to spar in the morning.

Today isn’t the only day, but I can’t help feeling anxious. If I’m this exhausted, Ethan must be feeling it, too.

With that thought in mind, I stood back up, pushing through the fatigue that was starting to weigh me down.

“Let’s continue, Master Ethan.”

“Alright, Lilith. But make sure to hold your sword tightly.”

Even though my body craved more rest, my determination drove me to start again.

Clang!

“Ugh…!”

But our last sparring session ended almost as soon as it started. I lost my grip and the sword slipped from my hand.

“Lilith…”

“…”

Of course, this is how it would turn out.

No matter how much we trusted each other as allies, the fact remained that Ethan was a swordsman and I was primarily a mage. It was obvious who would win in a match of pure swordsmanship.

All I could rely on were basic spells for physical acceleration and sharper reflexes, facing Ethan head-on without any real magical attacks. It was natural that he would overwhelm me in the fundamentals. Given that I’d never beaten him before, there was no reason to believe a reward hanging in the balance would change that now.

“Let’s call it for the morning, Lilith. Even if we keep going, the result will probably be the same.”

“…If we could go one more round—”

“You’ve already asked for ‘just one more’ three times now. It’s not that I don’t believe in you, but it’s important not to overexert yourself. I think you know that as well as I do.”

“…”

“We still have tasks to tackle in the afternoon. If you tire yourself out now, it’ll only push everything back. Why not rest after lunch, so you’ll be fresh for sparring later?”

“…Understood. We’ll stop here for now.”

Despite my growing fatigue and the diminishing returns of each round, I reluctantly agreed to end the morning session. Ethan’s concern was appreciated, even if it stung a little to admit I couldn’t continue.

? ? ?

Since the day we agreed to exchange rewards for sparring victories, a week had flown by. Naturally, there hadn’t been any miraculous breakthroughs on my end—I was still nowhere near landing a single win against Ethan.

After all, Ethan had spent about a third of his life devoted to swordsmanship. There was no way I’d catch up in a few days, barring some magical protagonist buff or an intervention by a hidden master.

Clang, clang, clang!

“Lilith, your grip on the left sword is slipping again! Hold it tightly!”

“Nngh, aaagh…!”

In all fairness, Ethan had proven to be a pretty earnest instructor, perhaps owing to Harold’s influence. Having watched my sparring with Ethan over the years, he was well aware of my habits and flaws, and he took the time to point them out.

The fact that he could offer advice so freely during our match also meant he was still holding back. I was reminded of just how far I still had to go.

Several times, I fell for openings he left “on purpose.” It was frustratingly clear that he could predict my moves well before I made them.

Whoosh!

“…Huh?”

“…That’s enough, Lilith.”

Thud!

Thinking I’d spotted a flaw, I threw myself into an attack. But Ethan twisted away as if he knew exactly what I’d do, knocking me down with a tap of his sword hilt. I tumbled forward, my body off-balance from the overcommitment.

Splat!

“Haah… haah…”

Ethan gave me a guilty look as I lay sprawled on the ground, covered in dirt. He had shown concern the first couple of times I’d fallen during training, but after I’d scolded him for it, he simply watched me in silence when it happened now.

I’d told him once that if he kept worrying about me during sparring, neither of us would be able to fight seriously. The look on his face was empathetic, but his form remained guarded, offering no gaps—if anything, he was even more difficult to read than Harold.

It’s like he knows exactly what I’m going to do.

It wasn’t just a difference in the use of magic or physical prowess. I had barely managed to trick Harold, a true master, with magical feints, but Ethan seemed to anticipate my every move.

While Harold might have had an edge in pure skill, Ethan’s familiarity with my technique made him a more formidable opponent in some ways.

Tap, tap.

“Let’s go again, Master Ethan.”

“…Alright, Lilith. I’m always ready.”

Ethan’s face remained calm and composed, as if he could easily handle me, no matter how hard I tried. At this point, I didn’t care so much about the reward anymore—I just wanted to wipe that look off his face.

Clang, clang, clang!

“Keep at it, Lilith! Hold firm with your left hand! Remember, block with your right!”

“You don’t have to keep repeating it! I know…!”

Ethan continued to offer advice, his tone casual yet encouraging, while I threw myself at him with all my might. After five more rounds, each ending in defeat, our sparring session finally came to an end.