Chapter 9: The Maid’s Rules

“Don’t mind your shoes; walk forward, in a straight line!”

The stern voice of Margaret, the Head Maid, resonated continuously.

Melo’s pretty face was rigid, her teeth gritted as she meticulously maintained her posture, balancing a tray laden with three massive metal weights, her feet clad in high heels with heels as slender as a pinky finger, advancing one painstaking step at a time.

Yet, the moment her arm, which held the tray aloft, relaxed even slightly, drooping just a fraction, a crisp sound echoed…

Snap—!

“Ugh!”

The sharp sting on her backside brought a tear to Melo’s eye.

Lady Margaret’s strictness was so intense it almost made her long for the resonance rate training that had just concluded.

Finally, she crossed the finish line, completing her maid’s special training.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Melo instinctively reached out to steady herself against a table, only to hear…

Snap—!

“Eek!!!!”

The searing pain on her rear made her whimper once more.

Melo cast a reproachful glance at the Head Maid, rubbing her backside as she protested, “Lady Margaret, I clearly crossed the finish line! Why did you hit me again?!”

Tapping her cane gently against her palm, Maid Margaret stated matter-of-factly, “What? Just because you’ve completed your maid’s special training, you’re no longer a maid? Can the spirit of an Esbell family maid simply be cast aside?”

Melo retorted, a hint of defiance in her voice, “But I only leaned on the table for a moment.”

Margaret remained unmoved. “Do you recall the Maid’s Code? Recite it.”

With a sigh of resignation, Melo straightened her back, lifted her chin, and began to recite in a clear, ringing voice.

“Guard secrets, utter no idle words.

“Maintain a proper and tidy appearance.

“Be punctual, and always honor your word.

“Be observant and meticulous, proactively anticipating needs.

“Attend to every detail, striving for perfection.

“Respect privacy, and know when to advance or retreat.

“Focus on your duties, and uphold boundaries.

“Speak humbly, and communicate courteously.

“Prioritize safety, swiftly eliminating hazards.

“Study diligently, never ceasing to improve.”

Margaret nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. What is the second rule?”

Melo replied, “Maintain a proper and tidy appearance.”

Margaret fixed her with a glare. “Did you just adhere to that?”

Melo’s shoulders slumped instantly. “But… I merely leaned on the table.”

“Hmm?”

At Margaret’s sharp gaze, Melo instinctively drew in her neck, quickly straightening her slumped shoulders once more.

Instead of punishing her, Margaret sighed, saying, “Perhaps… I truly have been too strict.”

Her tone was laced with helplessness and melancholy. “Ever since the Master passed away, the Madam has been constantly burdened with worry. To seek justice for him, she has been tirelessly running about, swallowing her pride to plead with countless people. I wish to help the Madam, but I am merely an ordinary old woman. The only thing I can do is keep this home impeccably clean and prepare every meal for her, at least ensuring she doesn’t have to fret over the household’s trivial matters.”

She looked at Melo, her voice sincere. “These are the only things I can do, and so I must do them to the best of my ability. However… you are different from me.”

Turning to Melo, she adopted a deferential tone. “Your arrival has brought many more smiles to the Madam’s face. You have the potential to become the greatest support for both the Madam and the Young Miss.”

Margaret, visibly emotional, stepped forward and clasped Melo’s hands. “Melo… my Lady.”

Despite being the Head Maid, she addressed the young maid, who was ostensibly under her charge, with the respectful title of ‘my Lady’.

Tears welled in Margaret’s eyes, and her voice trembled as she pleaded, “Please, you must help the Madam, help the Young Miss. I beg of you.”

Confronted by the Head Maid’s heartfelt plea, Melo found herself momentarily at a loss.

For the past decade or more, she had lived exclusively on the front lines of battle!

Her daily existence consisted solely of combat, combat, and even more brutal combat!

She had no experience with social etiquette, nor did she comprehend the workings of human society.

She was a warrior, straightforward, with little thought beyond the immediate.

Thus, she was unsure how to respond to the Head Maid’s fervent emotions.

“I… I will certainly help, after all… after all, the Madam took me in.”

****

Knight Academy.

After training concluded, Sephylia wiped the sweat from her face with a towel, took a sip of water, and her gaze swept across the entire training ground, her brow furrowing slightly.

“What are you thinking, Lia?” Little Splendor exited its Manifested Armor form, re-materializing into a humanoid shape, and asked with a curious expression.

Sephylia sat beside Little Splendor, murmuring, “Do you remember that stray spirit who formed a contract with Melina the other day?”

“Oh! You mean that really warm big sister! Splendor remembers her, of course.”

“I’ve heard that spirits of the same race share a peculiar sense of connection. Do you feel anything with her?”

Hearing this, Little Splendor tilted its head, a puzzled expression on its face.

“Now that you mention it, it is quite strange. Little Splendor can’t sense that big sister. Is it because she’s a stray? Hmm… but Big Sister Candlelight can sense her, though.”

Candlelight, also of the Splendor (TL Note: The name of a spirit race, ‘Guanghui’) race and a stray spirit, currently operates as a mercenary in the desert region.

Sephylia mused, “So, stray spirits aren’t actually disconnected from their kin, are they?”

Little Splendor nodded innocently. “That seems to be the case.”

Sephylia’s gaze fell upon the training ground.

At this moment, many were still training, though most couldn’t even manifest their Manifested Armor (TL Note: A type of spirit battle armor).

This meant that their resonance rate with their Companion Spirit (TL Note: A spirit weapon or companion) was less than 10%.

For a Spirit Master (TL Note: A practitioner who forms a contract with a spirit companion) and their Companion Spirit, a resonance rate exceeding 10% allowed them to manifest their Manifested Armor, which was essentially a part of the Spirit Art Battle Armor (TL Note: A full battle suit formed from spirit energy).

Only when the resonance rate reached 50% could a Spirit Master and their Companion Spirit manifest the complete Spirit Art Battle Armor.

Furthermore, once the resonance rate surpassed 100%, this state was termed Overdrive (TL Note: A state where a Spirit Master’s resonance with their spirit companion exceeds 100%), allowing the Overdriven Spirit Master to fully unleash all of their Companion Spirit’s power, manifesting an incredibly formidable Spirit Energy War Attire (TL Note: An ultimate battle form of spirit energy)!

That was every Spirit Master’s dream, and the minimum standard for becoming a Titled Knight (TL Note: A knight recognized for their mastery of spirit arts).

As for resonance rates exceeding 100%, even Melo’s 500% and 1000%, these were realms other Spirit Masters dared not even dream of.

No one knew what that truly implied; even Melo herself had only achieved a 1000% resonance rate once.

After that, he became she, and even Splendor was sacrificed.

To this day, this matter remained an absolute secret of the Alliance; not only outsiders, but even within the Alliance, only a handful of individuals were privy to the truth.

Sephylia sighed. “What has that idiot been doing these past few days? She hasn’t come to train.”

She took another sip of water, set down her flask, and called to Little Splendor.

“Come on, let’s resume training.”

“Oh! Fighting, fighting!”

Little Splendor cheered gleefully, then transformed into a stream of light that coalesced onto Sephylia’s left arm.

Sephylia was left-handed.

The weapon Little Splendor materialized into was, astonishingly, a fearsome warhammer!

“Hey, come spar with me.”

Sephylia casually slung the massive hammer over her shoulder and beckoned to a fellow Spirit Master student who had also manifested their Manifested Armor.

It was a somewhat gloomy-looking boy, with dark circles under his eyes, who turned his head stiffly, like a rusty machine, to look at Sephylia.

Then, his figure abruptly vanished.

Sephylia’s eyes narrowed instantly, and the warhammer slammed down, unleashing a deafening roar across the training ground!

Yet, the boy had already reappeared behind Sephylia, a dagger in his hand slashing towards the back of her neck.