Several days passed, and the castle remained peaceful, as if the previous turmoil had never occurred. With Alia's help, Emma successfully infiltrated the guard unit, and so far, no one had suspected her identity. Meanwhile, Alia had resumed her training in the practice room.
She had initially planned to use this time to upgrade the training facilities, but to her surprise, Emma had a keen understanding of such matters as well.
Standing in the practice room, Emma slowly surveyed the layout—climbing frames in the corners, suspended wooden stakes, sliding tracks designed for evasion training. A flicker of understanding flashed in her eyes as she spoke slowly, "I had already noticed your unusual way of walking and your instinctive reactions. Now that I see this practice room, I'm even more certain."
Alia's body tensed slightly, her fingers unconsciously tightening before she forced herself to remain calm. "Certain about what?" she asked in an even tone.
Emma smiled faintly, her expression unreadable. "I'm curious—where did you learn these skills, and why are you training in them?" She paused, then shrugged as if she wasn't particularly concerned. "But I won't ask. Everyone has their own secrets. It's just that… the things you train in here seem entirely focused on agility. And…" She narrowed her eyes, her sharp gaze sweeping over Alia like a blade. "Some of these techniques look far more like those used by thieves and assassins."
Alia's heart clenched, and she instinctively held her breath.
She had brought Emma here hoping that the former Seventh Legion officer—the so-called "Rising Star" of tactical warfare—could give her some pointers and suggest improvements. But she had never expected Emma to see through her training's true purpose in an instant.
Suppressing her unease, Alia forced a relaxed tone. "I never expected a general to be so knowledgeable about these 'lesser' skills." She lifted her gaze slightly, her expression unreadable. "I'm just training casually. I wouldn't know what these techniques belong to."
Emma studied her, as if searching for something in her expression. But in the end, she simply smiled and shook her head. "If you don't want to explain, I won't press."
Her tone remained casual, as if she had only made an offhand remark. But Alia knew that someone as perceptive as Emma had likely already formed her own suspicions.
Then, Emma suddenly changed the subject. "You've probably heard about my relationship with your mother and my past, haven't you? So you should know where I come from—the streets."
Alia nodded. She was indeed aware of that.
Emma continued, "Back then, what kept me alive wasn't just luck—it was also a few skills more commonly associated with thieves."
Alia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? You know thief techniques?"
"I do." Emma's tone was calm as she recalled, "A long time ago, I was much weaker than I am now. Barely able to survive on the streets. Every day was a struggle against hunger and cold, being bullied by stronger people, chased by black-market hounds… If I hadn't learned how to protect myself, I would have died in some dark alley."
Alia listened intently, her gaze focused.
Emma paused, her expression darkening slightly, as if caught in a distant memory.
"But one day," she murmured, "a man appeared before me."
Alia blinked, sensing that this man was anything but ordinary.
"A man?" she pressed.
Emma nodded, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Yes. A man. I didn't know his purpose or where he came from. But I still remember his face—covered in scars, deeply etched into his skin."
Alia's pupils contracted sharply.
Scars… a face full of scars…
Emma, unaware of Alia's reaction, continued, "He was the one who taught me how to survive. He taught me how to move unseen in the shadows, how to take what I needed without being noticed, how to evade those hunting me… These skills kept me alive on the streets and eventually led me to meet your parents."
"But…" Emma's voice grew softer, carrying a trace of something indescribable. "He vanished soon after. That day, he left without a word, as if he had evaporated into thin air. I never saw him again."
A flicker of regret crossed her eyes, as if she had never stopped wondering about his disappearance.
But at this moment, Alia's emotions were far more turbulent than Emma's.
She instinctively held her breath, her mind racing to piece together scattered fragments—
A face full of scars. Mastery of thief techniques. A man who appeared in someone's life suddenly and vanished just as quickly…
That man—
Who else could it be besides her master, Eryx?!
A chill ran down her spine, an indescribable feeling welling up inside her.
Eryx had never spoken of his past. He had never once mentioned his younger years. All she had ever known was that he had trained her into the Alia of her previous life. But she had never imagined—
That Eryx had taught someone else.
And that person was Emma.
Her heart pounded violently. In that moment, her thoughts were a chaotic storm, refusing to settle.