The sound of rain can be heard.

Rose’s attention is slightly drawn by the sound of water reverberating from outside.

While re-adjusting her breathing, she puts down her thin practice sword.

Wiping off the sweat on her forehead with a single hand, she quickly runs her fingers through her dishevelled hair.

The sound of rain alone fills the dimly-lit dojo.

For a while, Rose closes her eyes and lends her ears to that sound. She drinks in a deep breath of the damp air.

She has always found the sound of rain to be beautiful.

Rose was born as the princess of the country of arts, Oriana Kingdom. She has been exposed to various arts ever since young, and her consciousness towards esthetics is very high. The Oriana royalty all each decide on one art and spend their entire life perfecting it. Be it painting, music, theater, every single member of royalty picks one that they like.

The young Rose showed great interest towards all arts, but was unable to choose a single one. In her eyes, all forms of art was beautiful and wonderful.

Painting, music, theater, embroidery, sculpturing, everything was so wonderful, so how could she choose? And so she chose everything. And she was talented enough to receive acclaim in all of them.

What road would Rose eventually choose? It was a question that every single artisan in Oriana Kingdom paid great attention to.

However, what Rose came to choose was the sword.

It was entirely abrupt, and with that choice came also her decision to abandon all other forms of art. She said that she would solely focus on the sword.

Everybody asked Rose why the sword.

Rose did not say much.

Her only reply was that she saw beauty in the sword.

But in Oriana Kingdom, the sword is scorned as something uncivilized. Not a single person would acknowledge the sword as a form of art.

Rose threw off her family’s restrictions, and went to Midgar Magic Swordsman Academy as an exchange student.

The image of a certain beautiful sword is branded onto Rose’s very heart.

It is her most precious memory, one that she has never shared with anyone. The reason why she had decided on the path of the sword is because of her far off aspiration towards a certain swordsman.

Rose cannot forget the beauty of the sword that she saw that day.

How can she imbue that same beauty in her own sword? This question is the foundation of her lifelong pursuit.

No one in the country of arts acknowledges her art. But she does not mind. Beauty is not something to be chased for the sake of someone else’s acknowledgement.

Even without anyone’s acknowledgement, she will walk her own path. So she had resolved.

Rose was satisfied with that.

But the other day, an envelope had reached her.

“Father is coming to this year’s Festival of the God of War……”

The murmur falls unbidden from her sakura-colored lips. The king that scorns swordsmanship coming to watch the Festival of the God of War is unprecedented. Without doubt, he is coming to bring Rose back.

A certain rumor that has been flying around lately had caught Rose’s attention.

That there has been a fiancé chosen for her.

The day Rose heard that rumor, she had sent a letter home asking for clarification, but no reply came back.

There is already someone in Rose’s heart. That boy who possesses a beautiful, burning heart who would not hesitate to lay down even his life for her, that’s the one that she had decided to be her lifelong partner.

Which is why she must, at all costs, get her father to acknowledge that at the Festival of the God of War.

Firstly, her sword.

Then, fingers crossed, him too……

Rose slaps her own cheeks.

“Let’s focus.”

So saying, she discards her shirt that had gotten heavy from soaking up her sweat.

Her skin shines from the sweat. The sports bra purchased from Mitsugoshi Co. that is holding up her ample breasts is the only article of clothing she is wearing from the waist up.

Though her appearance is a bit immodest, Rose is the only person allowed access to this place, so there’s no need to worry about it.

Rose brings up her practice sword, then recalls that memory.

The memory of the greatest sword swing that she had ever made in her life. That swing during the incident at school was undoubtedly the best one in her entire life so far.

The Festival of the God of War is soon. She has only a short amount of time to get that feeling back.

Rose’s thin sword cuts through the air. Sweat dances. Beautiful honey-colored hair comes unbound.

Brushing away the hair in front of her face, Rose continues to swing her sword.

The sound of rain continues reverberating the entire time.

That feeling…… did not come back.