Ember Reborn: The Flame That Defied Fate-Chapter 57: Borrowed Ground, Borrowed Temper -

Yep — I’ll rewrite Chapter 57 so it flows cleanly from Chapter 56 (Iris misunderstanding cleared, Juliet "settlement," Iris claiming dinner), fix grammar, keep novelkiss pacing, and remove/replace anything too sexual.

Your draft has explicit sexual content (touching chest, "felt them," etc.) and also ramps into violence. I’ll keep the comedy jealousy and Yuren’s "spar to vent" energy, but make it PG-13: no explicit details, no threats of death, and the kiss will be referenced non-explicitly.

Target word count: ~1,520.

Chapter 57 – Borrowed Ground, Borrowed Temper

Yuren Helios’s private training hall was... unfair.

That was my first honest impression the moment I stepped inside again.

The space was immaculate. The equipment was high-grade. The air even felt cleaner—like dust and distractions were banned by royal decree.

Originally, I’d planned to "borrow" money from my dear friend Juliet to apply for my own private training ground.

However, thanks to a minor misunderstanding with Iris—one that almost got me emotionally executed in public—the plan had been postponed.

And continuing to train in the public grounds, where I’d become a zoo exhibit the moment I drew my sword, was getting harder by the day.

So I did what any reasonable person would do.

I exploited my friendships.

Yuren, thankfully, made it easy.

When I proposed sharing his training hall, he nodded without hesitation, walked straight to the control panel, and added my name to the authorized-user list like he was signing a receipt.

Since then, I’d been here far more often—beyond the two weekly sessions where I taught him swordsmanship.

It was efficient.

Quiet.

Private.

Heaven.

"Ha... yeah," I muttered after finishing a set of forms. "This is the life."

I gulped down a cold sports drink and let the chill run down my throat like a blessing.

Across the hall, Yuren approached, towel over his shoulder, wiping sweat from his face with the calmness of someone who had never experienced poverty or public training humiliation.

"Did something good happen?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You’ve been in a good mood," Yuren said, tilting his head. "Not just today. For the past few days. You’ve been smiling a lot."

"...Have I?"

"Yes."

I tried to deny it, but the moment I opened my mouth, my lips twitched again.

Damn it.

So much for subtlety.

"Well," I admitted, "something good happened."

Yuren’s eyes sharpened instantly.

Like a predator detecting movement in tall grass.

"Oh," he said slowly. "So it’s real."

"What’s real?"

"The thing that’s made you smile like an idiot," he replied, completely serious.

I snorted.

That was unfair too.

I wasn’t smiling like an idiot.

I was smiling like a man who had finally slept and eaten and briefly touched peace.

...Okay, maybe I was smiling like an idiot.

Still.

A few days ago, Iris had dragged me out to Valhalla City.

We watched a Republic movie.

Ate a light meal.

Walked through the park.

And then, on a bench under spring sunlight, she’d made me rest—really rest—like she’d decided my body was no longer allowed to be a weapon for a day.

It was the kind of day you didn’t forget.

And then... the next day, the photo disaster happened.

Juliet.

The misunderstanding.

The chaos at the academy gate.

The way Iris had grabbed my sleeve and basically declared, You’re eating with me.

Even after everything cleared up, something had shifted.

Not in a loud way.

In a quiet way.

Like a door creaking open.

A door we’d both been pretending wasn’t there.

So yeah.

I was in a good mood.

Yuren took another drink from the fridge and popped it open.

Then he turned back to me with the focus of a man about to interrogate a criminal.

"So what happened?" he asked.

"Nothing much," I said casually.

Yuren’s stare intensified.

"Dale."

"Okay," I sighed. "Fine. I guess you could say... things progressed a bit with someone I like."

Yuren froze.

His can hovered halfway to his mouth.

"...What?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean ’what’?"

His eyes widened slowly, like he was watching a meteor fall.

"Someone you like...?" he repeated.

Then he pointed at me.

"You?"

I blinked.

"Yes? Me."

"Dale?"

"Yes."

"...You like someone."

"Yuren," I said, deadpan, "are you having a delayed reaction to basic information?"

He stared at me like I’d just told him the sky had cracked open.

"Why are you acting like this is impossible?" I asked.

"In a school full of young men and women, people date all the time."

Yuren swallowed.

Then took a long sip of his drink like it contained medicine.

"Tell me," he demanded.

"Tell you what?"

"Everything."

His tone was too intense for something that wasn’t even his business.

"Why are you so interested?" I asked, amused. "Are you secretly bored?"

"I’m not bored," Yuren snapped. "Just... curious."

"Curious," I repeated, leaning back slightly. "That’s what we’re calling it."

Yuren ignored my teasing completely and stepped closer.

"Who is it?"

I hesitated for exactly one second.

Then decided there was no point hiding it.

"Iris."

Yuren’s expression collapsed.

"...Iris?"

"The Saint of the Holy Kingdom," I clarified.

"Yes," he said weakly, as if his brain was buffering. "I got that part."

He stared at the floor for a moment, then looked back up.

"I knew you were in the same training class," he muttered. "But I didn’t think it was like that."

"Like what?" I asked.

Yuren’s ears turned faintly red.

Then he coughed.

"So... are you two dating now?"

"No," I said. "Not yet."

Yuren’s face brightened so quickly it was suspicious.

"Oh," he said, suddenly calmer. "Good."

"...Good?" I echoed.

Yuren cleared his throat and returned to a "reasonable friend" tone that fooled no one.

"As a friend," he said, "I’m advising you not to get your hopes too high."

"What do you mean?"

Yuren gestured vaguely with his drink.

"Think about it. She’s not just anyone. She’s the Saint. Blessed by the Seven Gods. Holy Kingdom royalty in everything but title. Involvement with her won’t be simple."

I stared at him.

Then shrugged.

"Just because she’s the Saint doesn’t mean she can’t have feelings," I said. "Most church priests have lovers or spouses."

"But the Saintess is different!"

"She’s still human," I replied flatly. "Unless you’re saying she isn’t."

Yuren opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Bit his lip.

"...Fine," he said at last, clearly frustrated. "If that’s what you think, I can’t stop you."

Then he leaned in again, eyes sharp.

"So what exactly happened?"

I hesitated, because the truth was messy and involved misunderstandings and blackmail and Iris’s pride.

But I could summarize it.

"We got closer," I said.

"How much closer?"

"We... had a moment," I said carefully.

Yuren’s face tightened.

"What kind of moment?"

I sighed.

"We kissed."

Yuren nearly dropped his drink.

"W-what?!"

He stared at me like I’d confessed to stealing the sun from the sky.

"You kissed her?!" he hissed. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Quiet," I said, glancing around. "And yes. It happened."

Yuren’s jaw worked like he was chewing something bitter.

Then he leaned in again, voice trembling with urgency.

"...Was it—was it just a light kiss?"

I stared at him.

"Yuren," I said slowly, "why are you interrogating me like you’re my guardian?"

"I’m not!" he snapped. "I’m just asking!"

"...Why?"

Yuren’s cheeks reddened slightly.

Then he muttered, almost inaudibly:

"I don’t have experience with this."

Ah.

That explained everything.

In my previous life, Yuren had never even held hands with anyone.

Despite being pursued by princesses, celebrities, and half the continent’s "most eligible" list, he had treated romance like it was a distraction with teeth.

There were even rumors he liked men.

Which was ridiculous.

Yuren didn’t like men or women.

Yuren liked swords.

He was devoted enough to marry a blade.

So hearing about me and Iris probably felt like watching an unfamiliar natural disaster.

I cleared my throat.

"It wasn’t complicated," I said. "It happened quickly. We were in a tense situation. Emotions were high. It wasn’t... some planned romantic event."

Yuren exhaled, visibly relieved.

"Oh," he said. "So you didn’t do anything stupid."

"...What counts as stupid in your mind?"

"Don’t make me define it," he snapped.

I laughed softly.

Then Yuren narrowed his eyes again.

"But still," he said, "you’ve been smiling all week because of that?"

"...Maybe," I admitted.

Yuren stared at me like he was about to commit a crime.

Then he abruptly set his drink down with a loud clack.

"Dale."

"What?"

He walked to the wall and grabbed a sword.

Not a wooden practice sword.

A blunted steel training sword—real weight, real balance, reinforced for mana.

He turned back to me with a bright smile.

It would have been friendly.

If his eyes weren’t burning.

"I think you’ve rested enough," Yuren said.

"...Oh no."

"How about we spar?" he continued pleasantly.

"I’m good," I said immediately. "I already trained today."

"Good," Yuren replied. "Then you’re warmed up."

"That’s not what I meant."

Yuren’s golden mana flickered faintly around his shoulders.

Not exploding.

Not dangerous.

Just... irritated.

Like sunlight before a storm.

"Pick up your sword," he said.

I stared at him.

"...Is this because I kissed Iris?"

Yuren’s smile widened.

"No," he said, far too calmly. "This is because you’re smiling."

"That’s not a reason."

"It is," Yuren replied. "It’s annoying."

I blinked.

Then laughed.

"You’re insane."

"Maybe," Yuren said, raising his sword. "But you’re the one who decided to talk about it in front of me."

He stepped forward.

The air tightened.

My instincts screamed that this wasn’t a normal spar.

Not because he was trying to hurt me.

But because Yuren Helios, when emotionally disturbed, didn’t argue.

He fought.

I sighed and reached for my sword.

"Alright," I said, drawing my blade. "But no mana explosion. I’m not rebuilding your walls."

Yuren’s grin turned sharp.

"Then don’t make me angry enough to explode."

"That’s not how anger works."

"It is for me."

I took my stance.

Yuren mirrored it.

For a heartbeat, the hall was silent.

Then—

Clang!

Steel met steel, and the "friend talk" ended immediately.

Yuren’s strikes were clean, fast, and precise—like he was trying to carve the smile right off my face.

I parried, stepped back, and muttered under my breath:

"...So this is what happens when a swordsman gets jealous."

Yuren’s eyes narrowed.

"I’m not jealous."

Clang!

His next strike came faster.

I barely blocked it.

"Uh-huh," I said. "Sure."

Clang—clang—clang!

The hall filled with ringing metal.

And as ridiculous as it was...

A part of me felt strangely grateful.

Because in the middle of shifting futures, hidden secrets, and misunderstandings—

This was familiar.

Two friends.

Two swords.

And one very stupid way of saying:

I’m here.