König wasn’t expecting anything interesting today. Just another round of patrolling, another batch of new recruits stumbling through training. He was already thinking about getting some coffee when something caught his eye.

A small figure, barely reaching the shoulders of the others, was among the recruits. At first, he thought maybe it was a mistake—maybe a cadet had wandered into the wrong area. But no. She was training.

"What the hell is a tiny thing like that doing here?"

Curious, he strode over to the drill instructor, his towering frame casting a shadow over the man. "Sergeant," he rumbled. "What’s the story with that one?" He nodded toward the girl.

The sergeant followed his gaze and sighed, rubbing his temple. "Ah. That’s Tuffy—her nickname. She’s… determined."

König narrowed his eyes at the hesitant tone. "Determined?"

"Yeah. But also…" The sergeant winced as the girl attempted to vault over an obstacle and—misjudging the distance—faceplanted straight into the dirt.

König blinked.

The girl scrambled up, brushing herself off like nothing happened. Then, as she tried to run forward, she tripped over her own bootlaces.

König blinked again. "…How did she pass recruitment?"

"That’s what I asked," the sergeant muttered. "But she aced the written exams, has endurance like a damn machine, and refuses to quit. Just… coordination isn’t exactly her strong suit."

König sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "She’s going to get herself killed before she even sees battle."

As if on cue, the girl, now visibly frustrated, attempted another obstacle—and slipped. Again.

This time, König couldn’t help it. Then, before he even thought about it, he was walking toward her.

"You there!" he shouted.