Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Though the Medici family never stinted on their material needs, their expectations for the children were exceptionally high.

The daily curriculum, for instance, was packed from dawn till dusk: combat training during the day, cultural lessons in the evening, with the exhausting day finally concluding at 8:30 PM. Weekends were the children’s to manage, but based on Eve’s past life school experience, even holidays likely meant catching up on sleep in their bedrooms.

After a morning mechanics class, the children were herded like ducks to water into the training room that afternoon—a genuine mecha combat arena. The hall was vast, stretching beyond the eye’s reach. To accommodate the mechas’ immense size, the ceiling soared nearly a hundred meters high. Near the entrance, against a wall, stood a long table laden with watch-like spatial storage devices, all for the same X-101 model mecha. Since they were identical, Eve simply grabbed the one closest to her.

As she was figuring out how to activate it, she suddenly heard a chorus of excited shouts ripple through the children, their envy palpable. Puzzled, Eve turned to see a magnificent, towering mecha appear at the front of the crowd. Its design was sleek and advanced, a stark contrast to the standard-issue practice mechas. Its pale gold shell was even adorned with defensive alchemical ciphers, clearly indicating its exorbitant cost.

Sure enough, as her gaze dropped, she saw Cecil surrounded by the children. Though clearly bursting with pride, he feigned nonchalance, lifting his chin slightly to bask in their adulation. Even if the young master was initially ostracized for his excessive arrogance, it never lasted long. The others weren’t fools; Cecil commanded immense family resources, and a few insults were a small price to pay. No one would jeopardize their future over such trifles.

Eve cast an indifferent glance at him and the surrounding crowd before returning her attention to the exquisitely designed mecha.

—All top-grade mechas crafted by the Ross Corporation were named after mythological figures. The Medici family had acquired the "Olympus" series of mythological mechas, with the Twelve Olympians being the most valuable among them. These mechas were family assets, allocated based on contributions and status within the clan. The current and former heads of the family and their spouses possessed "Zeus" and "Hera." After the current family head’s wife passed away, Hera was reclaimed by the family, while Zeus remained with Sparti, the current head. Besides these, Cecil now owned the mythological mecha "Apollo."

Logically, Lorraine should also have a top-grade mecha, "Aphrodite," but whether she found it too ostentatious or deemed a private mecha unnecessary for a practice session, she quietly joined the other children in selecting a standard spatial storage device from the table.

Dick, who had been standing beside Eve and Grace, turned to see the young lady by the table. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly approached her to strike up a conversation.

Perhaps noticing Eve’s prolonged scrutiny of his mecha, Cecil deliberately pushed through the crowd and approached her, boasting, "This is my personal mecha, Apollo, a custom top-grade model from Ross. Envious, aren’t you?"

It was indeed beautiful and cool; denying it would seem disingenuous. Eve nodded, acknowledging her envy.

"The core of this Olympus series of top-grade mechas is the Twelve Olympians, and not all of them have been allocated yet," Cecil continued meaningfully. "Given your current status and family contributions, it’s impossible for you to get a mythological mecha. But if you play your cards right, even one of the Twelve Olympians isn’t entirely out of reach."

So, it was an attempt at bribery. Eve immediately understood. As appealing as a mythological mecha was, if it came with the condition of marrying Cecil, she’d rather decline.

Reluctantly, Eve tore her gaze from the magnificent Apollo mecha and looked at Cecil, replying succinctly, "Sorry, I sell my skills, not myself."

"You! How dare you refuse a favor… Don’t regret it later!"

Cecil had already swallowed his pride to tempt this provincial girl from a branch family with his precious mecha, never expecting such a blatant refusal. Including Sparti’s private conversation with Eve, this was the second time Cecil had been rejected by her. The esteemed young master of the Medici family, treated like a gift in a shop window, had been offered twice and rejected both times. Cecil was furious, glaring daggers at Eve. Just then, another branch family child, having overheard their hushed conversation, quickly tried to curry favor: "Young Master Cecil, this woman doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. If she doesn’t want it, then don’t give it to her. Something as precious as a mythological mecha should go to someone who actually wants it."

Cecil looked him over and sneered, "Not give it to her? To whom? You, for example? What qualifications do you have? Do you possess A-grade psychic power? Even if I gave it to you, could you even pilot it?"

"S-sorry, young master…"

The person, having failed to curry favor and instead been humiliated, awkwardly slunk back into the crowd.

After a while, the teacher finished explaining the basics of mecha operation, and everyone entered their mechas, pairing off to spar. The pale gold humanoid mecha raised its hand, pointing at a standard mecha. Cecil’s usual arrogant voice rang out from inside the mecha: "Teacher, I want to pair up with Eve for sparring."

Lorraine, who had been ready to summon Aphrodite to spar with her brother, paused mid-step. Grace, who had been about to approach Eve, was also stunned.

"Huh?" The mecha combat teacher was taken aback. She glanced at Apollo’s robust frame, twice the size of a standard mecha, then at Eve’s plain, basic small mecha. Compared to Apollo, the X-101 model looked weak, pitiful, and helpless.

The teacher hesitated and asked, "Are you sure, young master? Sparring with someone of lower skill is hardly good training. The difference between Eve’s basic mecha and yours is too great. I don’t recommend pairing with Eve."

"The mechas may be different, but the pilots have their own strengths, don’t they?" Cecil opened a communication channel with Eve. A large screen suddenly appeared in her cockpit, displaying his handsome face, full of malice, directly in front of her.

"Teacher, why not ask Eve for her opinion? Before class, she was quite confident that top-grade mechas were nothing special, preferring a basic model over a mythological mecha."

Eve: "…"

This guy was talking nonsense. When had she ever said that?

Based on her basic understanding of her students, the teacher privately felt Eve wasn’t the type to boast like that. But seeing Cecil’s inexplicably offended state, she had to save face for the young master and asked Eve, "Eve, do you want to pair up with Cecil? If not, it’s fine. Cecil can spar with me instead."

A faint sigh emanated from the plain little mecha, followed by a girl’s voice—Eve’s reply: "No need, thank you for your concern, teacher. But it’s fine for me to spar with Cecil."

If Cecil was determined to cause trouble, with Apollo in his hands, even the teacher would have a hard time stopping him. Eve felt it was better to just agree to his request now.

With both parties consenting, they were paired up according to the rules. The mecha instructor swallowed her concerns, however many they were.

She reluctantly divided the students into groups. With 19 children in total, one was inevitably left out. Dick agonized for a while between his friend and his crush but ultimately chose to abandon Grace and rush to Lorraine. Unexpectedly, when the teacher reached this group, she saw all three were A-grade psychics and decided to expand the group to a three-way sparring match.

As soon as the teacher turned her back, Grace made a "we’re doomed" gesture. Dick looked ashen, while Lorraine quietly complied with the arrangement.

Once training began, this group became the most intense and ruthless in their strikes. The patrolling teacher walked over to this area, nodding approvingly at the students going at each other, thinking to herself, "This is the power of A-grade psychics—truly limitless potential."

Eve and Cecil were assigned the largest area in the center. The moment the starting whistle blew, Cecil looked at the calm girl on the video comms. She shared the same pure silver hair and beautiful blue eyes as him, undeniable proof that these two opponents actually bore the same surname. For once, Cecil felt a rare sense of familial solidarity. Sitting in his high-end, comfortable cockpit, he asked his opponent somewhat awkwardly, "Your mecha is too low-level. I can take it easy on you and not use any of the alchemical weapons on Apollo…"

Before he could finish, Eve’s surprised expression on the other end told him exactly what she was shocked about.

Eve had just realized the video comms were still active! Surprised by this discovery, she didn’t even bother hearing Cecil out and directly cut off the communication.

Cecil nearly ground his teeth to dust in anger.

Though furious, Cecil was somewhat afraid that if he accidentally seriously injured or killed Eve, his father would definitely not let him off lightly this time—maybe even confiscating Apollo. Grinding his teeth, he reluctantly put away the alchemical weapons and other high-damage equipment that exceeded the basic mecha’s capabilities.

Sitting in the cockpit, Eve first followed the teacher’s instructions, linking her psychic power with the mecha itself. As the mental connection deepened, she felt her sensory awareness expand. A-grade psychic abilities were overkill for a basic combat mecha; Eve manipulated the steel giant as effortlessly as moving her own limbs, without even a hint of dizziness.

She drew a light sword from the mecha’s arm and assumed a starting stance toward Cecil, indicating she was ready.

Seeing this, Cecil also unsheathed a light sword. There was no real difference in sharpness between light swords; though Apollo’s blade was longer and narrower, somewhat resembling a katana, it was generally fair. He struck first, swift as lightning. Though Eve blocked the blow, both were startled upon their first exchange.

Eve thought, "So he’s not entirely a flashy pretty boy—he actually has some skill."

Cecil, on the other hand, was even more surprised. Eve’s block, though not perfect, showed a fluency and seamless connection in her stance and movement that could only come from training under a master.

But how could a branch family girl from a subordinate planet have access to a master swordsman to teach her?

Cecil became extra cautious, while Eve also stopped underestimating her opponent. They quickly exchanged over a dozen moves, the pale gold and iron-gray mechas closing in and separating at high speed, each testing the other’s true capabilities.

The other students gradually stopped their own fights and gathered around to watch the central match. The teacher didn’t bother scolding them for slacking off openly, instead focusing intently on the center—the two most talented children of the Medici family’s generation, her eyes thoughtful.

Without a doubt, these were two genuine prodigies. Whether in combat techniques, flexible mecha application, or hard-to-cultivate qualities like combat reflexes and awareness, both far surpassed their peers. Even the three A-grade psychics from the earlier free-for-all seemed inferior in comparison to the two currently fighting.

And when two silvery-white glows appeared on the field, the onlookers were shocked once more.

Cecil and Eve simultaneously summoned their spiritual states to aid in battle. Without any guidance from the teacher, they had intuitively mastered the fusion of spiritual state combat and mecha combat!