Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 65: Fragile maidens

Chapter 65: Fragile maidens

If she were born in different circumstances, Christina sometimes wondered, would she be happier? Would she laugh more? Would she dream more?

Her muttered thoughts drifted aimlessly in the air as she leaned against the academy’s stone pillars, watching students go about their day in the training courtyard.

Is it my status that holds me back? she wondered bitterly.

Is it my gender? My family? My cursed insignificance?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a presence—a swaying presence. Her amber eyes flicked up in time to see a woman walking toward her, hips swaying with the effortless grace of someone who knew the power of femininity and wasn’t afraid to wield it like a sword.

Even Christina, in her usual indifference, found her eyes lingering a little longer than appropriate.

Then she noticed the hand.

"Would you mind being my duel partner for today?" came a voice both honeyed and clear.

Christina’s brows rose slightly in surprise, only to widen further when she looked up and locked eyes with the one making the offer.

"...Princess Maria?"

It was her. The talk of the academy. The royal thorn that had pricked everyone’s heart since her arrival. Even now, though the storm had calmed, no one had forgotten—she was the one who would decide the fate of their country with the Harlow Empire. A thread so thin it could snap with a single breath.

Maria extended her hand again, smiling softly.

"Well?"

Christina hesitated, her pride caught in a net of doubt. Then she placed her calloused hand into Maria’s, bowing slightly. "As you wish... Your Majesty."

"Just Maria," the princess replied, her voice gentle. "We’re classmates now, not princess and baron’s daughter."

Christina gave a curt nod but said nothing. If someone else hears me calling her ’Maria’, I’ll have more problems than I can count. Better to keep calling her ’Your Majesty.’

She narrowed her eyes. But why me? Why would someone like her want a duel with a baron’s daughter?

Before she could spiral further, a familiar figure approached: Master Udo, her usual sparring partner.

Maria turned to him politely. "Master Udo, would it be alright if I borrow Christina today?"

Udo chuckled, the corners of his lips stretching into a broad grin. "If Christina or the instructors don’t object, then neither do I. But," he added with a polite smile, "I do hope I’ll get to cross swords with a beautiful princess one day."

Maria smiled. "Certainly." Then she turned, and the smile fell like a veil.

Christina noticed. She’s not doing this without a purpose...

They walked into the courtyard together. Maria drew her blade—an elegant royal straight sword, its silver surface practically gleaming under the sun.

Christina, meanwhile, reached for her usual practice sword—slightly chipped, worn from use.

Several instructors frowned at the sight.

"She’s going to make a disgrace of herself."

"Maria might just be using this to demonstrate Harlow’s superiority over Sturgon."

Christina could feel their judging eyes like daggers on her back. So what? Let them watch.

An instructor stepped forward. "Begin when ready. Three... Two... One—DUEL!"

They began slowly, circling, assessing. Christina watched Maria’s footwork: elegant, balanced and precise. She mirrored her with practiced movements, calculating distance and angle.

Then, Maria charged—but instead of the strike Christina expected, it came soft. Gentle. Almost playful.

What?

Christina raised her blade and blocked it easily. Maria smiled, her eyes gleaming.

"I’ve been observing you, Christina."

Christina’s eyes widened. "What...?"

"Just like I thought," Maria whispered. "You barely show any intent to fight."

Christina didn’t answer. She quickly backstepped, confused, wary. But Maria stepped in again, tapping her shoulder with a dainty strike—like two noble girls mock-fighting with lace fans.

The crowd around them began to murmur.

"This is pathetic."

"At the end of the day... they’re just women."

"But I thought princess had more...power,"

Christina gritted her teeth. They think I’m weak. They think we’re both weak.

"Why are you doing this?" Christina snapped. "Get it over with. You gain nothing from this charade, your majesty. Beat me and end this duel."

Maria tilted her head. "I don’t want anything," she said, smiling serenely. "I just like meddling in problems I find interesting. Congratulations, Christina. You’ve caught my attention."

Their duel continued—slow, frustrating. Whenever Christina tried to lose on purpose, Maria would intercept her, adjusting the rhythm just enough to keep it going.

Christina’s heart pounded with frustration.

Why won’t she let me end this? Why is she dragging this out?

The mocking laughter, the instructors’ disappointed faces, the whispers—all of it boiled in her blood.

I’m not weak. I’m not some frail noble daughter. And neither is she...

Her eyes flicked to Maria. And then—something snapped.

Without even realizing, Christina lunged forward with real force, her blade slicing the air with purpose. A serious attack.

Maria’s eyes gleamed. "There it is."

Steel clanged as she countered, slipping inside Christina’s guard. Her hilt smacked across Christina’s cheek—hard enough to sting.

Christina staggered back, a thin line of blood trickling from her nose.

"I’m going to ruin that pretty face of yours," Maria said coolly, the glint in her eye sharp as her sword.

Christina wiped the blood with her sleeve. "I don’t understand, your majesty. Are you trying to help me, or humiliate me?"

Maria raised her blade. "Why not both? I like seeing pretty girls like you in distress."

The crowd was silent now—watching. The air had changed.

Christina let go of everything—the rules, the instructors, the nobles threatening her, the peaceful vacation she was supposed to take tomorrow. She planted her feet and raised her blade.

Everyone wants to mess with me. What have I done? I just want to live, and this is how I get treated? I will show everyone! I will show!

Days of my suffering end today, she thought.

She charged, no hesitation. The sound of metal-on-metal echoed across the courtyard.

Maria parried, their blades dancing. But there was no more softness—only sparks and sweat and wild energy.

"You’ve improved already," Maria said mid-duel, breathless. "But not enough to beat me..."

Christina scoffed. "I’m just tired of pretending."

"Good." Maria lunged again, her attack brushing past Christina’s shoulder. "Pretending is boring."

Christina spun, countered, barely missing Maria’s side, and it looked like Maria was done trying to let someone else take the spotlight, as she took her infamous one-hand fighting stance while extending her sword in a right angle and fully opening herself to an attack.

"Just like I thought—you were interesting, but not interesting enough yet."

***

The room was vast and silent, bathed in soft sunlight that flickered against the walls of Cassandra’s private chambers. Tall windows were shuttered, filtering the afternoon sun into golden slats. The heavy velvet curtains made the room feel like a luxury chamber.

And at the center of the grand bed, wrapped in layers of silk and resting on down pillows, lay Shennong.

His chest rose slowly. His body was covered in bandages—some fresh, some already soaked through. Blood had dried along the curves of his ribs and collar, while angry bruises bloomed in shades of violet and deep red. And yet... he looked calm.

Too calm.

Around the bed, five figures stood. Each one tense. Each one quiet.

Yenissa’s eyes burned with worry. Rilith clutched her arm tightly, almost trembling. Velara’s fingers tapped her thigh in agitation. Romina stood quietly by Cassandra, whose normally composed expression betrayed her barely concealed concern.

"You all... look like you’re at a funeral," Shennong muttered, breaking the silence. "I’m not dead, you know."

He tried to sit up.

"Stop!" Cassandra and Romina both stepped forward at once, hands reaching out.

Shennong winced and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Okay, okay."

"I’m fine," he added, glancing between them. "This really isn’t necessary. I need to get back to the dungeon. There’s—"

A sudden chill passed through the air.

Shennong froze.

Yenissa moved.

In one swift motion, she was beside him, grabbing his cheeks with both hands and pulling his face toward hers until they were nose to nose. Her golden eyes were wide with fire, glowing with something unhinged.

"You’re not going anywhere," she growled, her voice sharp and low, "until I say you can leave this place."

Shennong blinked. For a moment, he didn’t even breathe.

"...Yenissa?"

She had never spoken to him like that before. There was no teasing tone, no flirtatious edge. Only raw fury and something terrifyingly close to desperation.

Yenissa didn’t release him. Instead, she pressed even closer, lips nearly brushing his as she narrowed her eyes.

"If you step one foot outside this bed, I swear to every god still alive, I will jump on your dick and break your pelvis so thoroughly that you won’t be able to crawl, let alone walk."

Shennong’s face slowly flushed, both from surprise and... other things. He looked away with a soft grunt, lips twitching.

"...That’s not a bad way to die," he muttered.

Rilith snorted. Velara covered her mouth. Cassandra looked horrified—and amused.

Even Yenissa broke into a grin, releasing his cheeks only to give one a playful, but firm pinch. "Idiot."

She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "You should listen to people who care about you for once."

Shennong didn’t respond. He just stared at the ceiling, overwhelmed, as if trying to process the explosion of affection, concern, and threats all at once.

Yenissa stood, brushing her long hair over her shoulder.

"Romina. Cassandra." Her voice shifted to a more formal tone. "Stay with him. Make sure he doesn’t move unless it’s to use the damn chamber pot."

Cassandra blinked. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Back to the main hall," Yenissa said, already heading toward the concealed door behind the wardrobe. "Velara and Rilith too. We don’t like being seen by too many humans, remember?"

Shennong weakly raised a hand. "Take the tunnel. The left one, not the right—it’s safer."

Yenissa rolled her eyes. "I’m already using the tunnel system you built under the mansion. Genius or not, I’m not stupid."

The moment she and the others were gone, a heavy silence returned to the room.

Only Romina and Cassandra remained.

Shennong exhaled, long and low."I am sorry I made you worried."

"We’re glad you’re alive," Romina said gently.