Cain was in the middle of an identity crisis.
He was a special kind of soldier, part of the “Grass” Unit. Under orders from the King, he was charged with gathering gossip, intel, and other important information. Depending on the situation, he would also carry out assassinations or similar dirty work. With that being said, however, the current king had not tasked him with any such tasks — and in addition, he had been constantly worried as of late.
(Should I say it...? But... But then... I am a Grass Soldier...)
Hiding up on the treetops, Cain observed his target, reminiscing about a previous interaction he had with the King.
He had snuck into the King’s office without being seen by anyone, and reported on the achievements of his fellow Grass Soldiers. Upon finishing his report, however, Cain was unsure if he should report on one other matter or not.
“Your Highness, about Princess Fie...”
“What is it? Does she have ill intentions after all?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then there is no need to report anything.”
“Understood...”
After receiving the information he desired, Cain’s master began moving his pen once more, cutting Cain’s explanation off halfway. Roy did not notice that Cain’s “No, that’s not it” was slightly more curt than usual. In fact, he didn’t notice a single thing at all. This was in part due to the fact that Cain had received training to never show emotion. However...
Cain had really wanted to say it. He was bursting to say it.
(“Princess Fie is actually working really hard in your private platoon right now! And you’re the one who hired her!”)
But then.
Even so, he could not say it... For he had received an order.
“Observe Princess Fie. If she displays ill-intent, report it to me. Other than that, nothing is necessary.”
To him, “Nothing is necessary” equated to “As it is unnecessary, don’t do it.”
To begin with, King Roy was the one who had arranged for the guard shifts at Princess Fie’s back pavilion to eventually thin out.
His orders to the guards were: “Don’t let Princess Fie leave the back pavilion via its entrance,” “No matter who comes knocking, don’t let them in,” and “If she has any wishes, grant them in the most basic way you can.”
As long as the guards didn’t suddenly gain an amazingly good work ethic, any intruders would surely be able to make their way into the building — especially once the guards were gone. That was the setup that King Roy had thought of.
On the other hand, Cain himself was told specifically to “Watch over Princess Fie’s movements in this environment, and if she displays ill-intent, report it. Other than that, nothing is necessary.”
If she did indeed have ill-intent, individuals connected to that specific incident would surely show up once the guards left their posts.
After a few days of his monitoring Princess Fie, only one thing of note had happened.
The cook had exited the back pavilion. Thinking that he was an agent for external contact, he and the other Grass Soldiers had followed him. However, the cook simply exited the castle through its main gates, never returning to the pavilion. Instead he had apparently found a job as a janitor in a run-down inn somewhere in a corner of the capital.
On the same day, Princess Fie, who had gone out for a late-night stroll outside the walls of the pavilion, was duly monitored for any potential illicit activities. However, all she did was leisurely stroll about, eventually stepping on a piece of paper, whereupon she held it up against the moonlight and then pirouetted around in glee, before running back all the way to the pavilion.
No matter how one looked at it, those were not the movements of a suspicious person, although they were suspicious in another way altogether.
Just to make sure that the paper was not a means of external contact, Cain had checked the discarded paper — but it was merely an advertisement for the squire test.
The very next day, Princess Fie’s extreme survival experience began.
Taking care not to alert the guards, Princess Fie started to sneak around. In that back pavilion where procuring food was otherwise impossible, she began to ration out ingredients that the cook had left behind — and had nothing but a portion of that for meals.
Upon seeing this, beads of sweat formed on Cain’s forehead.
(Why did it come to this...? What is going on? Should I report this to His Majesty? No, but he specifically said to only report to him if she had engaged in illegal activities... Maybe I could give her some food... No, I can’t. After all, all His Majesty ordered me to do was spy on her. To protect her well-being... That’s the guards’ responsibility!)
With that expectation in his mind, Cain flashed a glance at the guards, but they seemed to have noticed nothing amiss. They did not even question the absence of the cook, who had once ventured out on a regular basis to purchase food.
Cain suddenly remembered the criteria that King Roy had set for the selection of these guards. They were specifically supposed to be men of poor character, who would not question unfilled holes in shifts. People with a markedly poor work ethic.
The men His Majesty chose were a great fit. They never questioned a thing, and were content to leave their posts even if no one replaced them — to them, they were enjoying an incredibly easy and relaxed assignment.
(If... it ever comes to it... But that has to be the absolute last measure...)
Cain had smuggled some nutrient-rich foods on his person just in case. However, using them would be going against his orders to only conduct surveillance on his target.
(It’s fine... Just holding the food is safe. It doesn’t amount to going against orders yet...!)
Cain repeated those words again and again in his heart.
And so, Princess Fie’s survival experience continued. In fact, she had been practicing sword swings out of sight of the guards, again and again.
(Exercising while you have nothing in your stomach is bad for you...! You won’t gain any muscle that way...!)
Cain’s stomach had started to hurt just watching her.
Eventually, the remaining ingredients in the pavilion ran out... Yet Princess Fie continued her practice sessions, all the while bearing the hunger in her stomach. In addition, she seemed to be taking care to conserve her strength.
(What... What should I do...?)
His master’s orders and Princess Fie’s rapidly deteriorating condition spun his head in circles. If he could just place this smuggled high-nutrient food where she would notice it... No, he could simply buy some food and leave it there. If he did that, she would be saved.
However, in doing so, he would have failed as a member of the Grass.
The Grass Unit contained only specialized kinds of soldiers. Although they were from common peasant families and were just soldiers, they came into contact with sensitive secrets of the kingdom, and reported right to the top. He was, in more ways than one, the closest to the King’s side, and even kept tabs on more private domains and affairs. If these sensitive secrets were ever leaked, the reputation of the kingdom could be damaged beyond repair — he knew that well.
In this way, they were different than the regular royal officials, who wore their hearts on their sleeves. A normal court official would offer advice if the King ever committed mistakes, and suggest potential solutions and amendments.
However, the Grass Soldiers could not be allowed such avenues. Just as how the act of giving advice can breed dissent, dissent breeds rebellion. This is not an uncommon occurrence across the histories of various kingdoms.
It was worth noting that if a Grass Soldier suddenly decided to turn against the kingdom, it would be entirely possible for them to assassinate the sitting king, given the ample opportunities presented to them in their line of work.
This was the reason why those of the Grass were taught and raised to be as loyal to their master as humanly possible. Actions motivated by personal reasons should, in turn, keep within the reasonable boundaries of any given command.
While it was the official’s job to deal with their king’s potential folly, even if it meant resorting to more forceful means, the Grass were the opposite — they were to obey their master’s exact orders, no matter how foolish or strange they may seem.
(I am Grass... I am Grass... I am Grass...)
Cain repeated those words in his head at least several hundred times.
In the end, he was powerless to do anything until Princess Fie left the back pavilion for good.
He then witnessed her take the squire test, watched her struggle during the bout and pass it, before finally enjoying her life as a squire. Of course, the one who hired her was King Roy himself, although he had apparently noticed nothing the entire time.
To begin with, this entire affair can be traced to one of His Majesty’s bad habits. To be specific, it was his habit of taking matters into his own hands whenever they piqued his interest or when he thought something was particularly important.
To that end, he was always searching for places where he could shave time off his packed schedule. More often than not, time was siphoned from important events until the very last minute.
For cases where a certain task absolutely had to be done, but otherwise was judged to be of low priority, the King would put together a one-order-solves-all plan of sorts, and then utilize the appropriate staff members to execute the scenario — particularly, in cases such as that of Princess Fie. In such cases, even reports were to be kept at an absolute minimum.
The staff chosen for these plans were usually the best suited to the task at hand. So if the operation was performed as required, the overall result would be satisfactory, in addition to taking a task off the King’s hands. However, for this specific case, the result was undoubtedly a failure.
The reason for that was simple: His Majesty had apparently completely misread and misunderstood Princess Fie’s character. Cain understood this now.
If Princess Fie had been a common spoiled princess, she would have immediately complained to the guards, and at least would have been able to maintain a basic standard of living — although these would have been standards set by King Roy, not the princess in question.
Even a more run-of-the-mill princess would have reached her limit within a few days, and at least sent along a message or two.
However, Princess Fie was the complete opposite of all expectations. She never raised a single complaint, accepted everything that was given to her, and sought to solve problems with her own ability.
The information gathered from his surveillance, even after being stripped of personal opinion, presented Princess Fie as a generally hardworking and healthy person of good character.
In addition, she was a person who took action. In the end, Princess Fie escaped the back pavilion, taking the squire test with the aim of bettering her life. She then magnificently passed it, and secured a spot for herself in the northern dormitory.
Of all the people involved, the only one who possessed knowledge of the terrible failure of this plan was Cain himself — who was also unfortunately a member of the Grass.
The Grass knew for a fact that they were not exactly flexible soldiers. If a wrong order was given, the Grass Soldiers would obediently deliver a wrong result.
With regards to this spectacular failure, Princess Fie was left to her own devices as she spent her days training as a squire. Despite her failures, Cain had decided to watch over her progress as she embarked upon a journey of personal growth as a knight.
From the beginning, and even more so now, there were certain things that Cain yearned to discuss. In particular, he really wanted to talk to His Majesty about the outcome of this particular issue, failures and all.
(The only part of this whole situation that has been executed correctly is the surveillance! What are you going to do about her life and well-being? What about things like fashion or socializing? Aren’t these things that she needs in her life? She’s a girl right!?)
Though to be fair, Cain had only noticed the flaws and overall issues with this particular plan after engaging in prolonged surveillance — as such, he was not really in a position to put the blame on others.
It was a known fact that King Roy’s one big flaw was how he treated women. This was a known fact amongst the Grass Unit, the officials, and anyone who served him. Cain, of course, was aware of this as well.
In fact, His Majesty had basically refused to accept any updates from the guards with regards to this issue — that was how disinterested he was in the matter of Princess Fie.
The reason for this was simple — King Roy had deduced several facts based on his initial assumptions on the matter: if Princess Fie were indeed guilty of something, or had intent to take part in illicit activities, surveillance would eventually reveal that. And then, information extracted from her contacts would surely lead them to the next part of the puzzle.
Now seated at his desk and working on some documents regarding the current anti-flood measures being undertaken at the southern riverbanks, it was reasonable to assume that not a single letter of Princess Fie’s name even remained in His Majesty’s mind.
His Majesty also seemed blissfully oblivious to the dramatically colder stares of Nena, who was currently the only female member of the Grass Unit. She had stood in for the guards a few times on this surveillance mission.
As Cain realized that the only one who could do anything about the current situation was him and him alone, he decided to try to say something.
(It’s a simple affair... “Princess Fie is currently in your employ as a squire in your personal platoon.” All I have to do is say that...)
Immediately after Cain had parted his lips to speak to His Majesty, who was currently still drafting a document on flood control, various thoughts filled his mind. To be precise, they were thoughts such as “Report to me if she has any ill-intent,” “Anything else isn’t necessary,” “It is the duty of the Grass to carry out their master’s exact orders to the best of their abilities,” “Giving the king advice is a job for the officials,” and “It is the job of us Grass to be His Majesty’s hands and feet.” Those words and more flooded Cain’s mind.
(Why... Why can I not say something so simple... Why...)
That day, Cain questioned himself.
(Why am I a member of the Grass!?)
Cain had reached a stage of self-doubt, eventually culminating in an identity crisis.
But of course, Cain was a Grass Soldier — just like his parents before him. They had raised him to be one of their own. However, this wasn’t quite about that.
King Roy continued manipulating his pen against the documents before him, oblivious to Cain’s distress. It seemed like His Majesty had come up with a plan to approach the problem of flood control for this year.
(If only you had given Princess Fie even 1% of the care you take towards public affairs...)
In the end, the doctrine of the Grass won yet again, and another day went by with Cain not reporting Princess Fie’s true identity to King Roy.
(I am Grass... I simply exist to follow and execute orders. I am Grass... I am Grass...)
Repeating that phrase to himself in his heart hundreds of times, Cain departed the King’s chambers without being seen by anyone.
Cain’s internal struggle only intensified after that. On one hand, it wasn’t too late to tell the King — on the other, he did not wish to think too deeply on the matter.
This was the chain of events that had occurred the night before.
Today, Cain was once again perched on a tree, continuing his surveillance of Princess Fie. Up until just now, she had been happily speaking with King Roy.
(No, no! I mustn’t get distracted!)
Cain became aware of the fact that he had been lost in thought, and had momentarily stopped watching over his target. Panicking, he quickly returned his gaze to the position where he had seen them last, but neither the Princess nor the King was to be found.
(Hm, they’ve already moved. I must search for Princess Fie...)
It was a considerable failure for a Grass Soldier. In fact, Cain was beginning to wonder if he was cut out to remain a member of the Grass at all.
Despite his misgivings, Cain was about to loyally continue his surveillance mission, only to realize that someone had begun climbing the tree where he was perched. To make matters worse, they were already considerably close to his position.
A mere moment after Cain had noticed the presence, a young girl’s face popped out suddenly from behind some branches.
It was a cute, feminine face, framed with a boyish, short haircut. In other words, it was Princess Fie’s face.
Upon seeing Cain hidden amongst the branches, Princess Fie broke into a familiar and friendly smile, greeting him wholeheartedly.
“Are you Sir Cain, by any chance!? I’m Heath! Hello!”
(I’ve made contact with the surveillance target! What do I do Your Majesty!!!)
Cain screamed in his heart.
“Captain Yore told me of your hiding place, and so I searched around everywhere, until I finally found you here!”
(On top of that he also told the surveillance target all of my observation points!!!)
“The Captain said you could teach me some moves, Sir Cain! That’s why I came to look for you.”
Apparently the situation was just as Princess Fie had described. Although it was a scribble, Fie bore an official decree bearing Yore’s name. To a member of the Grass, that was as good as a direct order from King Roy himself.
The two eventually climbed down from the tree after Cain informed the Princess that it was dangerous to stay in an elevated position for long periods of time.
“That’s awesome! I would have never noticed someone hiding in such a place! What were you doing?”
“...”
(I was watching you this whole time...)
However, Cain could not possibly tell Princess Fie that. Mistaking Cain’s silence for something else altogether, Fie came to some sort of conclusion on her own.
“Ah, I’m sorry. It must be a secret assignment!” For some reason, her eyes sparkled upon uttering those words.
“Yes...”
In reality, it was a secret — but only to Princess Fie. In fact, it probably was not as awe-inspiring an assignment as she might believe.
“So, what are you going to teach me today?” Princess Fie had promptly gotten herself into a learning mood — the glitter of expectation in her eyes was plain for all to see.
(But... is this really okay...?)
Cain once again ran over the commands that his master had issued in his mind.
“Observe Princess Fie,” “Report to me if she displays any ill-intent,” and “Teach Heath (Princess Fie) your techniques.”
There appeared to be no significant contradiction.
If Cain did not report anything to His Majesty, he could easily teach Princess Fie the relevant techniques while keeping an eye on her in the name of surveillance. This was the scenario that was apparently unfolding before him.
There were no contradictions.
None at all.
(No matter how you spin it, this is a messed-up situation! From a common sense angle it’s definitely bizarre!)
Cain wanted to hold his head in his hands. In fact, he already was holding his head in his hands.
Cain pummeled the ground with one hand, holding his head with another. To protect what it meant to be a member of the Grass and to remain loyal to his orders — the contrasting thoughts pushed Cain even deeper into a labyrinth of cognitive dissonance.
“Sir Cain? Sir Cain!? Are you all right!?” Princess Fie asked after him, worry evident in her voice.
And so Cain made up his mind, standing up in the process.
“No, I am fine. I apologize for worrying you.”
(I am Grass... Orders are to be loyally executed...)
Although that was what he thought, all that was left inside Cain’s heart now was his sense of despair.
“Is that so? I’m glad... You’re my last hope, Sir Cain. So... what are you going to teach me?”
Upon hearing that, Cain became wracked with worry once more.
(Although I could teach her some techniques, isn’t it dangerous? This is a princess we are talking about — in fact, she’s more or less the second queen of this kingdom! Dangerous moves are out of the question then... So, no attack-type techniques. Evasive moves also have the risk of injury...)
“How about this, you brace yoursel—”
“I’d rather do something flashier.”
Cain’s suggestion of a relatively more harmless and simple technique was interrupted by Princess Fie’s retort, the latter now puffing out her cheeks and sulking.
(Oh... she’s... unexpectedly bratty?)
Cain could not help but feel that the princess before him was somewhat different than the impression he’d had during surveillance.
“How about a defensive technique to break free from your opponent’s grasp—”
“I’ve already learned that in basic squire training.”
After that, each of Cain’s selected techniques were batted aside one by one by Her Highness.
“I want something more flashy. If it isn’t something I can show off to everyone, there’s no meaning in it. I believe in you, Sir Cain!”
Although it was the first time meeting him, Princess Fie delivered her statement with an utmost sense of sureness.
At this point, Fie was desperate. After all, Cain was her last bastion of hope for learning a finishing move.
In Fie’s eyes, Cain radiated a sort of aura that suggested that he was capable of all sorts of superhuman feats.
(This is troubling... I can no longer guarantee her safety with these remaining techniques... There’s no choice, perhaps, except an evasive technique of some sort...)
In the end, Cain struck a compromise with himself, bringing along Princess Fie to a courtyard at the back regions of the castle. As a member of the Grass, he was generally not supposed to be in places where he could be seen by other individuals.
“It’s like a kind of secret training!” Fie said, looking at Cain with eyes filled with excitement and anticipation.
The place they had moved to apparently hosted a wall of sorts that was lower than the internal walls of the castle.
Cain retrieved a rope with a hooked implement at one end from somewhere on his person. Holding the hooked end in his right hand, Cain tossed it forcefully up the wall, whereupon the hook caught upon an edge and stabilized itself. Cain clambered up the rope without a sound thereafter, reaching the top of the wall in a few seconds.
(H-How will she take this suggestion...?)
Princess Fie’s eyes, however, had an unmistakable sparkle in them as she witnessed Cain scale the wall.
“Th-That’s amazing...!”
It seemed like he had somehow met her expectations. With a sigh of relief, Cain descended the wall as Princess Fie watched on.
After Cain’s display, it was time for Princess Fie to practice the maneuver herself.
“Hah! Huh...? Hng...!”
No matter how many times Princess Fie threw the hook, it didn’t come close to reaching the top of the wall.
“This is difficult...”
In reality, this was precisely what Cain was aiming for. Although there were various difficulties to this particular technique, the most difficult part of it was actually getting the hook to catch onto a part of the wall successfully.
Although it was overall a relatively dangerous technique, as long as one did not scale to too high of a place, it was otherwise safe to a certain extent.
After wrestling for about 20 minutes with the hooked rope, Fie finally handed the item back to Cain.
(Whew...)
Cain was certain that the Princess had given up. He heaved another sigh of relief — with this, his assignment was finally over. At least he thought so, for a moment.
“Please throw it, Sir Cain. I want to practice climbing too. I can practice throwing it later.”
(I see... A fair assessment... But wait. Why didn’t I foresee this...?)
Cain placed a single hand against his forehead, and then went along with it because there was fundamentally nothing wrong with Princess Fie’s suggestion.
And so he tossed the hook over the upper part of the inner wall, taking pains to ensure that the hook was more secure than usual.
Princess Fie, for her part, quickly grasped the rope, and began her climbing practice. Cain nervously followed behind, preparing to catch her if she fell.
On her first climb up, Princess Fie’s body swayed side to side violently, almost causing Cain’s heart to stop. However, she quickly regained her bearings, and began climbing straight up the wall.
(What an unbelievable thing she’s doing...)
Normally, this technique wasn’t exactly the kind that could be accomplished in one try. Various factors, such as one’s balance while climbing, the difficulty of supporting one’s weight with a rope, and a fear of heights were common factors in cases of failure.
However, although Princess Fie swayed here and there several times during her ascent, she safely made it all the way to the top. In addition, she became more and more stable as she continued climbing. Her light body weight, mobility, and above all, a fearless heart were all core factors in her success.
Cain thought that parts of her technique could still use improvement, but for what it was worth, Fie had succeeded in climbing the wall under Cain’s tutelage.
(She is great material for a potential member of the Grass... No, what am I thinking? This person is the second queen of this kingdom...)
Cain quickly dismissed the thoughts currently going through his mind.
It was Fie’s first attempt at wall-climbing, and she made it all the way to the top.
“I did it, Sir Cain!”
Standing on the top of the wall, Princess Fie waved to Cain energetically — perhaps too energetically. In the midst of her happy waving, the Princess had forgotten that she was on top of a wall, and her body began swaying precariously.
“Woah! H-Huh?”
Before Cain’s eyes, the Princess’ body fell from the top of the wall.
(Princess!? Woaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!)
Instinctively running forwards, Cain caught her in his arms. He then promptly proceeded to reprimand her — with as loud and as severe a tone of voice as was permissible for a member of the Grass.
“You can’t let your guard down just because you’ve succeeded! Don’t lose your focus until you actually get down from the wall!”
“I’m sorry.”
Perhaps because Princess Fie also knew that she was at fault, she was currently curled up like a cat, and simply nodded at Cain’s lecture.
“Then... I’ll try to not mess up this time. Oh, please teach me how to climb down.”
Although she had nearly fallen to her death already, Princess Fie showed no fear, and immediately began her practice motions once more.
Eventually, Fie succeeded in learning how to climb and descend from a wall within the day.
“Thank you for teaching me such an incredible technique, Sir Cain!”
Having finished her training session, a content expression was written all over Princess Fie’s face.
However, Fie was now biting her thumb, and was enviously staring at Cain’s chest region — to be precise, she was staring at the hooked rope implement that was kept in that region of Cain’s outfit.
(Don’t tell me... she wants this? No, I can’t. I only have one of these. It’s a required tool for any Grass Soldier... I can’t just give it to her...)
“Hmm...” Cain was deep in thought.
“Please send a request to Garuge... I’m sure he can make one for you...
“Yes!” Princess Fie nodded gladly at Cain’s words.
A few days later, Fie stood in front of Slad and company, looking very proud of herself.
“I too, have finally learned a finisher!”
Having practiced the appropriate throwing and hooking method for the past few days, Fie had finally mastered the technique.
First, she would show it to Slad, Gees, and Remie. As for Gormus, he had made himself scarce upon hearing the words “finishing move.” Fie made up her mind to track him down and show it to him after her initial display.
So, her three friends had the privilege of seeing it first.
“Huh, really? What kind of move is it?”
“Everyone kind of ran out of ideas though... They aren’t really doing it anymore.”
“Well I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
Slad seemed to be genuinely interested, while Gees watched on observantly. Remie simply stood in front of Fie with his two friends, a smile on his face.
As Fie took out her hooked rope, however, her three friends all made a somewhat incredulous expression.
“Heath, you...”
“That’s a bit...”
“That’s against the regulations, you know...”
The three squires looked upon their friend with a mix of pity and confusion.
“Huh?” Fie simply stood there, blinking, not really understanding the situation.
Apparently, a set of rules had emerged amongst
the squire’s finisher boom recently.
The regulations were as follows:
A sword move gains 1.5x more points (because swords are the knightliest weapon). A lance or bow move would score normally — however, all other kinds of moves were prohibited.
The time taken to perform said move must not exceed 10 seconds.
If one moves for over two meters from the start of the performance, they are disqualified.
The maximum number of swords one may use is three.
The squires had collectively come up with this set of regulations after the finisher boom had led to an uncontrolled expression of move variations in all sorts of directions.
However, Fie, who had spent the last few days practicing how to throw her hook, was unaware of this.
As Remie explained the rules to Fie, her face slowly began to turn white. In the end, the so-called finisher Cain had taught her was of no use at all.
“Well... try harder next time, I guess?”
“Eeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!?”
That was all Remie could say to console his friend as Fie’s wail of sadness echoed throughout the training grounds.
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