In the end, I woke up in bed.

Lily was no longer by my side.

"Ah, damn it."

Whether it was thanks to a good night's sleep or the tears I had managed to shed from the clogged-up ducts, I felt remarkably refreshed. Only my spirit remained as heavy as a cloudy sky.

"Fuu..."

I got out of bed and began my usual stretching routine, a habit carried over from my previous life.

I stretched every muscle I could, loosening every stiff joint. Starting the day with this made a noticeable difference in how my body moved. It had been a lifeline back when I lived in constant readiness for battle.

Well, this was the women's dormitory of the Royal Lehan Knight School, though.

"......"
"......"

Across the room, behind a standing partition, Lily had already woken up and was getting dressed. She stood there, arms folded beneath her generous chest, watching me intently.

She had already changed into the instructor's blue uniform, a skirted version of the outfit I wore. The fabric was woven with metallic thread, a material that didn't exist in my previous life as Blythe. Lightweight and resistant to slashes, its downside was its vulnerability to blunt force.

Incidentally, the student uniforms we would wear were made of the same material.

But that was beside the point.

She was furrowing her brows again. That expression—sometimes directed at me—what did it mean? Was she beginning to suspect I was Blythe?

"Do you need something?"
"Are your parents acquainted with Blythe? Or perhaps related to him in some way?"

"Gah!?"

My heart leapt.

Her scrutinizing gaze pierced me, chilling me to the bone.

"Are you alright?"
"...Just a hiccup."
"I heard slamming your diaphragm with full force can stop them."

What kind of terrifying folk remedy is that? What barbaric tribe came up with such nonsense?

"Blythe used to say that."

I don’t remember saying such a thing. He was probably drunk when he did.

Sweat began to bead on my forehead.

Calm down. Stay composed.

"Why would you think there's a connection between me and Blythe?"
"The stretching. Your movements are identical to his. Most people don't start their mornings with such a routine."
"T-That’s because I read about it in an article about the Sword Saint. Anyone who follows the path of the sword has to study his writings."

Ugh, what a weak excuse.

"Down to the exact steps?"
"It was described in meticulous detail."
"Interesting. Was it written by him? What was the title?"

Why is she so insistent?

"Sorry, but I’ve forgotten the name of the text."
"I see. That’s unfortunate."

Careless. I needed to change the subject.

While I was thinking, Lily began to stretch beside me.

"......"

It brought back memories. Yes, this was how it used to be. She would watch my movements and mimic them.

"Have you been keeping this up since then?"
"It's ingrained in me. Like I said last night, I was Blythe's final disciple. At the very least, I should honor his teachings."

I didn’t teach her anything, though. She was just imitating me.

I lowered myself, spreading my legs, and exhaled as I pressed my chest to the floor.

"I see."

Lily mirrored the movement, lying flat in the same pose.

Back then, I had been bigger than her, but now the roles were reversed. Yet here we were, stretching side by side like before.

It was a strange feeling.

After a while, I raised my torso. Lily followed suit, averting her gaze as she muttered.

"Sometimes—"
"Hm?"
"Sometimes, you remind me of Blythe. Like during the practical exam. Swinging a wooden sword around so recklessly like that—"

She meant "formless." I didn’t know how to respond.

"Maybe...maybe it’s because I’m imitating him, like you. That’s all."

"Is that why? Even though your face, voice, and age are completely different, it’s strange. He’s gone now, but somehow it feels like you’re his last disciple instead of me."

She shifted into a side stretch, leaning left. I mirrored her, stretching my side.

"So much so that I started wondering if you might be his illegitimate child."

"Don’t be ridiculous. I look nothing like that old man with a face like a rock, do I?"

I’m a sleek, handsome boy now.

Honestly, with the right clothes, I could easily be mistaken for a girl. If anything, my refined features were likely inherited from my mother rather than my father.

"A face like a rock..."
"Yeah. Not that I’ve seen him directly, of course. I was born after he died. But there are plenty of statues, aren’t there? In the capital."

There are hero statues in parks and squares throughout the royal capital. A lot of them.

Some are poorly made, and kids often climb on them or scribble graffiti on their faces. Still, they’re more approachable than the overly beautified depictions. It’s a shame for the park caretakers who have to clean up after them. They should let the knights idle during peacetime deal with it.

"True, but...haha, a rock, you say? Haha."

She leaned right, mirroring me. Her left side stretched.

It felt oddly familiar, like mornings from my past life.

"Yes, I can see it. To me, he looked like a potato. That first night, he was truly terrifying."

She laughed. For the first time since our reunion, I saw her smile.

It was the same smile as back then.

Ah, little by little, the memories of my previous life were returning.

"Haha, ahaha...ugh, ahahaha!"

"......"

You’re laughing too much.

When you laugh that hard about someone’s face, it just makes me sad.