"The Mark Carved into the Dark Night" Chapter 13: The Value of Defeat

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Amidst the metallic echoes of the training grounds, Krea felt the reality of the "power gap" for the first time.
The sparring match between the Princess and her adjutant was as oppressive as a storm and as cold as a long night, making him deeply realize his own inadequacies.
However, this "defeat" was not merely a trial; it was a multiple-choice question the Princess had prepared for him—
To leave or to stay; the path of the future was for him to decide.

Krea followed the group of armed court ladies to observe the Princess and her adjutant engage in what was called "practice"—though in reality, it was a live combat drill intense enough for the battlefield.

They fought three rounds, each one solid, sharp, and merciless, as if they would not stop until the other was defeated.

The momentum between the Princess and her adjutant was like a storm, with cold blades clashing and no openings to be found. The elegant techniques Krea had learned from his noble fencing instructors in the past seemed like paper props before them, unable to withstand a single blow.

He stared with wide eyes, but the armed court ladies beside him looked as if they were used to it, munching on potato chips while watching the arena with intense focus—as if they were not concerned with the outcome, but rather with some kind of rhythm and pattern.

Until the adjutant spoke up:

"Your Highness! You still have paperwork to sign!"

Only then did the Princess, like a child interrupted from a game, reluctantly put away her sword.

Krea finally realized—those breathtaking exchanges were just a part of their daily routine.

When the armed court ladies "dispersed" to regroup, the Princess walked up to Krea.

"I think I have an idea of your level." She glanced at him, her tone devoid of mockery, instead as calm as if she were issuing a military order. Then, she nodded to the court lady beside her.

"You must be tired from your arrival. Go change your clothes and take a shower; the court lady will take you to the dining hall. I will call for you later."

With that, she and her adjutant headed toward the changing rooms.

Krea stood frozen in place, and it wasn't until the court lady gently reminded him that he followed, as if waking from a dream.

Before leaving, he caught a glimpse of two young armed court ladies in the corner standing in pairs, wooden swords raised high, imitating the
opening stance of the Princess and her adjutant's match just moments ago.

The next moment, the two charged almost simultaneously, swords clashing in a fierce struggle.

—The rhythm, the momentum, the footwork; it was almost exactly the same as the sparring match he had just witnessed.

He stood under the showerhead in the washroom, letting the cold water slide from his hair over his body, yet he could not wash away the three sparring matches from his mind.

Rather than saying he had lost, it was more like he had been completely crushed. He couldn't even remember which step he had gotten wrong, because from
start to finish, he hadn't even managed to swing his sword once.

It was not humiliation, but... a deep disgust for his own powerlessness.

"Is this... the world of the Dark Night?"

He muttered under his breath, letting the sound of water replace his thoughts, echoing in the empty bathroom.

After showering and tidying his appearance, Claire was led to the dining hall by a lady-in-waiting.

As time passed, he watched various uniforms come and go: Dark Night members, armed ladies-in-waiting, and some units he had seen in the royal capital but did not recognize well.

He even saw the executioner in the black robe with red lapels come in for dinner—they simply nodded to each other before going their separate ways.

He knew the other person was just there to eat, but a vague sense of discomfort remained in his heart that he could not shake off.

The ladies-in-waiting and staff in the dining hall knew Claire was the Princess's guest, so tea and snacks were never in short supply; Claire was deeply grateful for everyone's care, but he still waited anxiously for the Princess's summons.

The clock struck eleven, and just as the night shift guards were rising from their seats to head to their posts, the messenger lady-in-waiting finally appeared.

He had already prepared himself mentally to go back and wait for news...

(But does the Princess work this late every day?) Claire thought as he followed behind the lady-in-waiting.

This time, the meeting was in the study.

As the door opened, a mountain of books came into view. The Princess was in casual attire, sitting behind an old desk, gently shaking a pen in her hand, with her adjutant standing quietly to the side.

After Claire bowed, the Princess pointed to the chair in front of the desk: "Please, sit."

After the lady-in-waiting pulled out the chair, he sat down, and the Princess asked with a faint, enigmatic smile: "So? What are your thoughts?"

"I feel that I am lacking," Claire said with a look of regret, "My strength is far too inferior."

"Actually, there is no need to worry too much about it," the Princess picked up the teapot nearby, poured black tea into an exquisite porcelain cup, and handed it to him along with the saucer.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Claire took the teacup and took a sip.

(Why is it so strong?) He struggled to control his expression.

"This tea today is specifically for staying up late," the Princess glanced at him, her tone carrying a hint of teasing, "My adjutant's ranking in the Dark Night is among the best; even I lose to her when I'm not in good condition."

“You are too kind, Your Highness,” the adjutant said, looking slightly shy.

The princess took a sip of tea and said, her expression unchanged, “I invited you here today not just to test your swordsmanship, but for another reason as well.”

She set down her teacup.

“It concerns your work assignment.”
“I have two paths for you to consider.”

Claire leaned in involuntarily.

“The first,” the princess said in a flat tone, “is for you to travel around the country, observe the current state of the nation, and then return to serve as a knight-in-training. You may choose whichever order of knights you prefer.”

Claire nodded. “And the second is…?”

“The second is to serve as an assistant trainee to the adjutant.” The princess raised her cup to take a sip, her expression natural.
Claire was stunned—he had not expected such a proposal at all.

“But… Your Highness, my background…”

“The family of a rebel, right?” The princess set down her cup. “But based on your recent performance and the situation since establishing your new family, I believe you are capable of it, which is why I offered this option. One should not doubt those they employ, right?”
Claire fell silent.

Recalled from the border, discovering that the maid he knew was a spy, his father’s execution, establishing a new family… he had barely had a moment of rest during these days. Only recently had he been able to look back and reflect on these events.

It was truly a mess.

And looking ahead, everything remained uncertain and unresolved.

But he was clear on one thing: as he was now, both mentally and in terms of strength, he was far from qualified.

Seeing that he did not answer, the princess said, “You may go back and think about it—”

Before she could finish, Claire suddenly said loudly, “Please let me travel around the country first!”

Both the princess and the adjutant were startled by his volume and looked at him in unison.

“I apologize, Your Highness.” Claire bowed his head. “Given my current state and strength, I am truly unable to take on such a heavy responsibility. Please let me go out and gain experience.”

“Ha… hahahaha!” After a moment of surprise, the princess suddenly burst into laughter.

The adjutant sighed softly while patting his forehead; Claire stood frozen in place, not knowing what had just happened.

The princess laughed for about thirty seconds before wiping the corner of her eye and saying, "Adjutant, you owe me a sundae!"

"How was I supposed to know he'd refuse so quickly..." the adjutant sighed, glaring at Krea.

Krea sat there stunned, only coming back to his senses when the princess spoke up to remind him.

"Actually," the princess's tone shifted, becoming more serious, "the adjutant has always believed you have the potential to enter the Dark Night, but I thought you might not be ready yet, which is why I arranged today's meeting."

"However, because of that 'shocked' look you had just now," the adjutant added, "the princess thought you would refuse outright, so she bet me a sundae... Ugh, my wallet..."

"Sorry for making a spectacle of ourselves." The princess suppressed her laughter. "But I actually did trust that you had the self-awareness to make the choice that was right for you. It's just... I didn't expect it to happen so quickly."

She added one final remark:
"When you return, I hope you will be worthy of that position."

Krea frowned slightly, unsure how to react. Even though she said it lightly, the thought that his choice had become a bet between them... left a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth.

However, the princess's next words put him more at ease. He knew clearly that this wasn't an insult, but a test—
and his choice had been acknowledged.

He chuckled softly, finally pulling himself out of his bewilderment.

Japanese Translation

This translation is provided based on a draft by ChatGPT, which I have personally proofread and supervised.
If there are any unnatural parts in the style or tone, I would be very grateful if you could point them out.
If you have any thoughts or questions, please let me know in the comments section. I will do my best to respond.

Chapter 13: The Value of Defeat

The swordplay between the princess and the adjutant was as fierce as a storm and as merciless as a cold night.
In the midst of it, Krea was made painfully aware of his own helplessness.
But this "defeat" was not merely a trial.
What the princess gave him was—the path to a future he had to choose for himself.

Krea watched, along with the armed court ladies, the "practice" unfolding between the princess and the adjutant—a serious bout that could have been taken straight to the battlefield.

They crossed swords three times, each strike merciless, as if it wouldn't end until the opponent was completely defeated.

Every time the princess and the adjutant clashed, the wind whipped, cold blades sparked, and not a single opening could be seen.
The elegant forms Krea had once learned from a noble fencing instructor were like paper crafts here, powerless before the offense and defense unfolding before his eyes.

He just stared with wide eyes, but the armed court ladies beside him took it in as if it were a daily occurrence, munching on potato chips with one hand while staring intently at the center of the scene—what they were watching wasn't the victory or defeat, but the rhythm of the sword strokes and the regularity of the footwork.

Eventually, the adjutant called out.

"Your Highness! There are still documents left to sign!"

The princess sheathed her sword with lingering reluctance, much like a child whose playtime had been interrupted.

It was only then that Claire realized—the life-or-death struggle they had just engaged in was nothing more than a daily routine for them.

As the armed court ladies returned to their ranks as if they had received an order to disperse, the princess walked up to Claire.

“I have a general idea of your skill now.”

There was no irony or mockery in the princess's voice; rather, it held the cold composure of someone delivering a military order. She nodded slightly to the court lady beside her.

“You must be tired, too. Go change and take a shower. I will have someone guide you to the dining hall. I will call for you later.”

Having said that, the princess and her adjutant disappeared into the changing room.

Claire stood frozen in place, but finally came to his senses when prompted by a court lady and followed after them.

As he left, he glanced at the corner of the training ground. Two young armed court ladies were already facing each other, wooden swords at the ready. Their footwork, their spacing, their intensity—

The next moment, the rhythm of their fiercely clashing swords was startlingly similar to that of the princess and her adjutant just moments before.

He stood under the shower in the washroom, letting the cold water flow from his hair down over his entire body.

Yet, the stream of water could not wash away the three mock battles that were seared into his mind.

It wasn't just that he had lost—he had been completely crushed.

He couldn't even remember where he had made his first misstep.

That was because, from beginning to end, he hadn't even managed to land a single strike.

It was not humiliation.

Rather, it was a deep, profound loathing for his own helplessness.

“Is this… the world of the dark night…”

He muttered low, letting his thoughts dissolve into the sound of the water, and echoed his voice through the empty bathroom.

After showering and tidying himself up, Claire was guided by a court lady to the dining hall.

As time passed, people in various uniforms appeared in turns. Knights of the Dark Night, the armed court lady corps, and members of units he had seen in the royal capital but knew little about.

He even caught sight of that executioner in black robes with a red collar coming in for a meal. They exchanged slight nods before heading to their respective seats, but an indescribable sense of discomfort lingered in Claire's chest.

The court ladies and staff in the dining hall knew he was the princess's guest, and tea and sweets were brought to him constantly. While grateful for their consideration, Claire waited impatiently for the princess to call for him.

Just as the eleventh bell finished ringing and the night-shift guards were rising from their seats to head to their posts, the messenger court lady finally appeared.

Having half-resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn't be called tonight, Claire followed the court lady and muttered to himself.

(…Does Her Highness work until this hour every night?)

This meeting took place in the study.

When the door opened, what caught his eyes was a mountain of books piled up against the walls.

The princess sat behind an old desk in plain clothes, toying with the shaft of a pen with her fingertips, while her adjutant stood quietly by her side.

As Claire bowed, the princess gestured to the chair in front of the desk.

"Sit."

A lady-in-waiting pulled out the chair, and Claire sat down. The princess asked with a somewhat knowing smile, "So? What are your thoughts?"

"I am keenly aware of my own lack of ability," Claire said regretfully. "The difference in our skill is just too great."

"You don't need to worry about it so much." The princess picked up the pot beside her and poured tea into a delicate cup, then offered it along with the saucer.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Claire accepted it and took a sip. (...It's quite strong.) He almost let his expression show it.

"Tonight's is a special blend for staying up late." The princess glanced at him and spoke in a slightly teasing voice. "My adjutant is one of the top swordsmen even in the dark of night. Even I lose when I'm not in top form."

"Your Highness was merely holding back," the adjutant replied, looking a little embarrassed.

The princess took a sip from her own cup and continued without changing her expression. "I didn't just have you come today to see your swordsmanship. There is one more thing I want to discuss."

She set down her cup. "It's about your future duties."

Claire leaned forward naturally.

"The first path is—" the princess stated calmly, "to first travel around the various regions and see the current state of the country with your own eyes. Then, return as a knight apprentice and join the order of your choice."

Claire nodded. "And what is the other?"

“The other is to work as an apprentice assistant to my adjutant.” The princess carried the tea to her lips again with a calm face. Claire was speechless for a moment—he had never dreamed such a proposal would be made. “But... Your Highness, my status is...” “The family of a traitor, right?” The princess set down her cup and said calmly. “However, looking at your work so far and the situation of your new house, I made this proposal because I judged that I could entrust it to you. There is no need to doubt those you employ, is there?”

Claire fell silent. Recalled from the border, learning that his close maid was an infiltrator, his father executed, establishing a new house... In these days, he had never had a moment to stop. Only now, at last, did he have a little room to look back.

His mind was still in disarray, and even looking ahead, the path was still hazy.

Only one thing was clear: he was currently not a person worthy of that heavy responsibility, neither in heart nor in skill.

Seeing that he did not provide an answer, the princess said lightly, "If you want time to think—"

But before she could finish, Claire interrupted in a loud voice. "Please let me travel around the regions first!"

The princess and the adjutant looked at him at the same time, as if slightly surprised by the volume of his voice. "I apologize, Your Highness." Claire bowed his head. "In my current state and with my current strength, I cannot possibly fulfill that duty. Please let me first gain training in the various regions."

"…Heh, ahahahaha!" The princess looked bewildered for a moment, but the next instant, she burst into laughter.

The adjutant pressed his forehead and let out a deep sigh. Claire was still unable to grasp the situation and remained frozen.

The princess continued to laugh for about thirty seconds, then wiped the corners of her eyes and said,

"Adjutant, I owe you one parfait!"

"I couldn't have predicted he would refuse so instantly..." The adjutant slumped his shoulders and glared at Claire.

Claire was still sitting there in a daze, but when the princess called out to her, she finally came to her senses.

"Actually," the princess changed her expression and continued in a slightly more serious tone, "the adjutant thought you had the aptitude to enter the dark night. But I felt you weren't ready yet. That's why I set up this meeting today."

"But after seeing that terrified look on your face earlier," the adjutant interrupted with a bitter smile, "Her Highness thought you would 'definitely refuse.' So she bet a parfait against me... oh, my wallet..."

"I've made you laugh, haven't I?" The princess stopped smiling and said gently, "But I appreciate that you understood yourself and chose the path that suits you. I didn't think it would be this soon, though."

And finally, she added,

"When you return, I want you to be a person worthy of that duty."

Claire frowned slightly, not knowing how to react. Knowing that her choice had been the subject of their bet made her feel at least somewhat conflicted.

But the princess's next words eased that lingering resentment. This was not an insult. It was a test—and her choice had been acknowledged.
Claire gave a small smile and finally let go of the confusion that had remained in her heart.

If you were Claire, would you accept the offer to be an adjutant's apprentice, or would you refuse? Tell me your reason too!