Chapter 46: Nah I’d win.
Sebastian Nekros
Breakfast was quiet for a while. The smell of eggs filled the room, faintly smoky because I might’ve overdone them just a little. Belle didn’t complain though. She never did about food I made maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she genuinely liked it. I wasn’t sure which was better.
Between bites, I glanced at her. She sat with one leg folded under her, the morning light slipping through the blinds and resting gently on her face. It softened her usual sharpness, making her look happy.
I hesitated before speaking. "Hey, Belle."
She hummed in response, mid-chew.
"I wanted to ask you something. You don’t have to answer if it’s... you know, hard to talk about."
Her head moved slightly. "What is it?"
I took a breath. "How did you go blind?"
There was a pause not awkward, just heavy. Then, to my surprise, she chuckled softly.
"It’s not hard to talk about," she said. "Actually, I’m glad you didn’t ask before now. Most people do. Usually right after meeting me."
She set her fork down, folding her hands in her lap. "It was about three years ago. Back when the war was still raging. Before the five-year treaty was even a rumor. I had just broken through to SS-rank."
Her voice carried that quiet steadiness she had whenever she talked about the past like someone remembering an old scar that had stopped hurting but never faded.
"I was fighting a three-way battle against the Elven King and the Demon King. I wasn’t losing either," she said, almost playfully. "My death affinity made me a difficult target. Too difficult, apparently. So they decided to gang up on me first, and settle their own fight after I was down."
I listened silently, watching her fingers trace idle patterns on her knee as she spoke.
"The Elven King stabbed me through the side. I still remember the sound of it clean, efficient. But that wasn’t what did it. The Demon King cursed me." Her lips tightened slightly. "A rose-level curse. The highest tier. It took my sight permanently. No healing, no purification, not even divine light could undo it."
I stayed quiet for a long time, trying to picture it two monarchs of ancient races teaming up just to take her down, and still barely succeeding.
Finally, I asked, "If it had been a one-on-one, who would’ve won?"
She tilted her head toward me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "If it were just me and the Elven King, and he went all out... I’d probably end up exhausted."
"So you’d lose?" I teased, smirking a little.
Belle turned her head toward me, that faintly arrogant smile spreading wider. "Nah, I’d win."
I couldn’t help but laugh, because of course she’d say that.
---
I pushed my chair back and stood, stretching until my shoulders popped. "Alright," I said, glancing toward Belle. "I should start getting ready for the exam."
She tilted her head toward me, that faint smile tugging at her lips. "So soon?"
"Yeah. I don’t want to be late on my first day." I started walking toward the hallway, then looked back at her with a teasing grin. "Oh, and you can do the dishes."
She scoffed, half laughing. "You’re ordering me around now? How bold."
I smirked. "I learned from the best."
She chuckled under her breath, and I could hear the faint clatter of dishes behind me as I disappeared into my room.
The familiar scent of my space greeted me. I headed straight to the bathroom, peeled off my clothes, and stepped under the warm stream of water.
The heat soaked into my muscles, washing away the stiffness from training and the exhaustion from the past few days. My mind wandered.
The exam. The academy. Everything that came after.
Belle had done more for me in six months than anyone had in my entire life. The least I could do now was make sure all that effort meant something.
When I stepped out, steam still rolling off the mirror, I dried off quickly and pulled on a simple black T-shirt, dark jeans, and my usual coat, black as night, draped lazily over one shoulder. I didn’t bother styling my hair much, just ran my fingers through it a few times.
I paused in front of the mirror.
Not bad.
My reflection stared back, sharper jawline, eyes a little colder, posture straighter. Months of training had carved definition into my frame that hadn’t been there before. I tilted my head slightly, smirking at my own reflection.
"Damn," I muttered to myself. "No wonder Belle keeps picking fights with me. Hard to resist perfection."
Sacha’s voice echoed faintly in my mind, sleepy and unimpressed. Papa’s being weird again.
I laughed quietly. "It’s called confidence, Sacha. You should try it sometime."
No. Sacha is perfect already, she replied smugly, and I could almost picture her flicking her tail.
Still smiling, I grabbed my ID band, the one Belle had given me a few days ago from the desk, slipped it onto my wrist, and opened the door. She was still in the living room, wiping the last of the plates dry. She turned her head toward me immediately, her blindfold catching the morning light.
"Leaving already?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," I said. "I’ll be back before dinner, probably."
She hummed. "Don’t fail."
I grinned. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
As I stepped into the hallway, the air outside felt cooler — sharp and clean, carrying a sense of something beginning. My boots echoed lightly against the marble floor as I walked toward the elevator at the end of the corridor.
Each step felt heavier and lighter at the same time.
Six months of training. Countless bruises, endless lessons, moments that had reshaped who I was.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. I took one last look down the hallway, toward the apartment that had been more of a home than anything I’d known before, and smiled faintly.
Then I stepped inside.