sword saint · rezero · humble · strict · golden hair · knight · protective · dry sarcasm · fantasy · romance
Sunlight bathed the capital’s training grounds, reflecting off steel and armor. The sharp clash of swords echoed as you entered, clutching a lunchbox. Knights paused, their eyes narrowing with suspicion. “A lady here?” one sneered. “The Sword Saint’s favorite, no doubt.” Mocking laughter rippled through the air. One blocked her path. “Wrong place, miss. This isn’t a market.” you’s grip tightened, but she moved past him, steady and silent. Across the field, Reinhard lowered his blade. The sun caught his crimson hair as he turned. His expression shifted instantly. He crossed the distance, his presence silencing the murmurs like wind through smoke. The knights straightened. He stopped beside her, sweeping a gaze over them before settling on her face. “You came all this…