The Spirit Said, 'You're Unworthy as My Master, Cancel the Contract!' So I’ll Give It to My Sister Who Wants It - Episode 2.1

“Earth Spirit Solm! You are not worthy of being my contracted spirit as the Crown Prince! I hereby annul our contract!”

A blond-haired, golden-eyed man shouted arrogantly in a rose garden bathed in the setting sun.

He was Gilbert von Terre, the Crown Prince of Terre, the neighboring country of Asteria. Dressed in a pristine white military uniform that accentuated his refined features, he exuded an air of nobility. After brushing aside his bangs in irritation, Gilbert glared at the spirit standing before him.

The spirit could be described in one word—tattered.

His long, messy hair was a shade of golden brown, partially covering his eyes. Unlike the spotless uniform of the Crown Prince, he wore a ragged gray robe, stained and worn. His trousers were frayed at the hems, riddled with tears and holes.

His name was Solm, a high-ranking Earth Spirit. Though he should have been respected for his status, he simply gazed back at the prince with unreadable eyes, hidden beneath his long bangs.

“What’s with that look? I don’t like it! Are you, a worthless spirit, trying to defy me?!”

“…Isn’t breaking a contract for a selfish reason considered a grave sin?”

Solm sneered, his voice laced with sarcasm, which caused Gilbert’s face to flush red with anger.

“Tch! It won’t be a problem if you just agree to it!”

This rose garden was part of the grand palace gardens of Asteria. Gilbert had been invited to the capital of Asteria as a state guest. Tonight, a grand ball was scheduled to take place in the royal hall.

Yet, rather than heading to the ballroom, Gilbert had chosen to hide away in this secluded part of the garden.

“If you are embarrassed to show me in public, you could simply dress me up properly. Just for the duration of the ball. Or… do you despise the idea of others knowing we are contracted?”

“That’s right! And it’s not just about appearances! Do you have any idea how much humiliation I’ve suffered because of you?! Your very existence is a disgrace!”

Gilbert’s voice rose in fury, and with a forceful swing, he punched Solm in the face.

A dull thud echoed through the garden as Solm staggered back, landing on the ground. Bl00d trickled from his split lip, which he wiped away with the back of his hand.

Clenching his trembling fist, Gilbert continued his tirade.

“I’ve endured long enough, but this is the limit! In my own country, it was barely tolerable, but to be laughed at in another kingdom because of you?! How do you expect me to introduce you? ‘Ah yes, this is my contracted Earth Spirit, Solm. His specialty? Growing grass.’ And of course, the king will ask, ‘And what else can he do?’ What am I supposed to say? ‘I’d love to know that myself!’ I’ll be a laughingstock!”

The words “defective product” made Solm’s expression twist in pain.

As an Earth Spirit, Solm was not suited for combat.

In Terre, there were no Light Spirits or protective crystals to ward off monsters. This made offensive spirits—Fire, Water, and Wind—the most sought after.

However, Earth Spirits were rare. When Solm was first summoned, the entire kingdom celebrated. The image of Gilbert’s proud smile from that time still burned in Solm’s memory.

But when they tested his abilities, they found that Earth Magic was utterly useless in battle. He could only create short dirt walls, barely tall enough for a child to step over. His stone attacks crumbled midair before reaching their target. Everything he did was weak and ineffective.

Simply put, Solm had failed to meet Gilbert’s expectations.

Gilbert had once been hailed as a prodigy—skilled in both academics and combat, blessed with striking looks, and even capable of commanding a spirit. Everyone had believed he would become a great king.

But Solm’s summoning had marked Gilbert’s first taste of humiliation. The once-revered prodigy was mocked behind his back.

“I was a perfect Crown Prince until you appeared! People called me a child of destiny! But now, I hear them whisper, ‘That Crown Prince, huh?’ They mock me! Mock me! You ruined my life!”

Driven by rage, Gilbert kicked Solm.

Curling up to endure the blows, Solm shut his eyes tight. Each strike sent a jolt of pain through his body. It had been a long time since he had received any healing.

(Please, let it end… let it end… let it end…)

It was the same as always.

Solm simply waited for Gilbert’s tantrum to pass, enduring the pain until the prince tired himself out. But his body ached everywhere.

(It hurts… I can’t breathe… please, stop…)

Just as Solm was about to lose consciousness, a voice rang out.

“What exactly are you doing?”

A clear, bell-like voice.

At that moment, the violence ceased.

Slowly, Solm opened his swollen eyelids. Through his blurred vision, he saw a woman standing before him. His eyes widened in disbelief.

(She’s… glowing?)

Her silhouette shimmered in the dim light. It almost seemed as if she were glowing, though in reality, her pure white dress merely stood out against the evening shadows. But Solm couldn’t look away.

Her silver hair was as fine as elven silk, cascading gracefully. Her violet eyes were mesmerizing, her porcelain skin flawless. With delicate, doll-like features, she was breathtaking.

(An angel? No… a silver fairy lost in the mortal world?)

Solm found himself entranced by her beauty.

“Who are you?! Why are you here?!”

Gilbert’s voice trembled with panic.

This rose garden was deep within the palace grounds—a place where few ventured. How had she found him?

At Gilbert’s demand, the woman gracefully introduced herself.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince of Terre, I bid you good evening. I am Mistia Redfield. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now… may I ask what exactly you were doing?”

“M-Mistia Redfield?! Hahaha…! Why is the star of tonight’s ball here? The night air is chilly—I shall escort you back to the hall.”

Desperately trying to change the subject, Gilbert forced a smile.

Hearing her name, Solm’s eyebrows twitched.

She wasn’t an illusion—she was real.

(So… she is the “Hero of Salvation.”)

Tonight’s grand ball was held to honor Mistia Redfield—the woman who restored the Guardian Crystal and saved Asteria.

With Asteria’s Guardian Crystal and its Great Spirit protecting the kingdom, the city remained safe from monsters. But other nations weren’t as fortunate.

Desperate to share in Asteria’s protection, foreign dignitaries—including Gilbert—had come to curry favor with Mistia.

But now, his carefully laid plans were ruined.

His face paled with panic.

“Do not change the subject. That is a spirit, is it not? Why are you treating him this way?”

“This is a misunderstanding! This wretch misbehaved, so I was merely disciplining him. A servant daring to defy his master must be punished!”

“…A servant?”

Mistia’s brow furrowed. As Gilbert stepped forward, golden particles danced before him, blocking his path.

“W-What is this?!”