Chapter 129
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 129
“Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped Ivar’s lips.
He hadn't expected the man to praise the woman so highly—not as an excuse, but with genuine conviction.
It was absurd, yet Ivar’s shoulders shook with suppressed mirth at the thought that a golden opportunity to eliminate Lucian had finally arrived.
“A word once spoken cannot be taken back.”
“If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have said it in the first place.”
“Fine!”
Ivar stood up, slamming his hand onto the table with a resounding thud.
Then, before anyone could intervene, he made a loud proclamation.
“Descendants of the Dragon, hear me! As the one with the thickest blood, I have led this tribe! But time has turned my hair white and bent my back!”
“...!”
“I am old and frail, and I find it difficult to bear the Duty of the Dragon any longer. Therefore, I intend to entrust the future to a suitable successor! Are you all prepared to shoulder this heavy burden?!”
The successors, excluding Lucian, stood up in unison and bowed their heads. It was a ritualistic gesture, signaling that an answer was unnecessary.
Ivar’s eyebrows twitched at the sight of Lucian remaining motionless once again, but the irritation was fleeting.
Soon, a strange smile played on his lips as he continued.
“...Very well! I have seen your resolve! However, one who wishes to shoulder this duty must prove their worth through three trials!”
At those words, the warriors attending the banquet swallowed hard.
Mentioning the traditions for selecting the next Chieftain made it clear that a trial was about to be issued right here.
Tension was inevitable, as the nature of the trial could favor some and disadvantage others.
With everyone’s eyes fixed on him, Ivar revealed the first trial.
“He who wishes to become Chieftain, show me the strength of the warrior who serves you! Show me how great a warrior your vessel can hold!”
At Ivar’s declaration, the warriors’ heads turned toward Lucian.
The trial itself was familiar to them; it was one that had appeared frequently in the past.
The problem was the declaration Lucian had made just moments ago.
Since he had given his word, the moment he sent out anyone other than the woman, he would become a laughingstock.
However, if he sent the woman out and even a single strike of hers was parried, Lucian would have to offer up his head as per his oath.
‘It’s over.’
The warriors collectively sneered at Lucian’s slip of the tongue.
The only choice left for Lucian now was to forfeit the trial and be relegated to a mere spectator.
But Lucian, defying the warriors’ expectations, spoke with a smile.
“You’re not wrong. A subordinate is the face of their lord. By looking at the subordinate’s ability, one can discern the lord’s capacity.”
“...?”
The warriors blinked blankly at Lucian’s relaxed tone.
Did he really intend to face the trial with just that one woman?
As the warriors remained half-doubting, Lucian drove the point home.
“Fine, I’ll dance to your tune. However, you’d better be careful. My guard isn't as generous as I am.”
—The stranger introduced a woman as his warrior!
—He’s sending that woman out to fight other warriors!
The events of the banquet hall spread through the entire tribe in an instant.
To be precise, the warriors who had attended the banquet spread the word openly.
Partly it was to mock Lucian’s disgraceful behavior, but more than that, it was because the news was so shocking they couldn't keep it to themselves.
“A woman as a warrior? What kind of nonsense is that?”
“How should I know? Maybe that’s how they do things in foreign lands.”
“He’s mad! A man who hides behind a woman is a king?”
“Was the prophecy wrong?”
“Prophecy or not, I won’t accept a king like that!”
The tribespeople were in an uproar over an act that overturned all tradition and common sense.
The gazes that were initially filled with curiosity and fear began to harbor hostility.
For Ivar and the other competitors, it was a more than satisfactory outcome.
But regardless of the commotion, Lucian and his party didn't care at all.
The sole exception was Gunstein, who had only just learned that Felicia was a warrior.
“My Lord! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
“Did I ever hide it? You’ve seen her with a sword at her waist plenty of times.”
“I thought it was for self-defense! Even our women arm themselves like that to protect themselves in emergencies!”
“Well, I’m glad you know now. In the future, if something seems strange, just ask right away.”
“No, that’s not what I mean...!”
“Your Highness.”
Gunstein flinched at the voice from beside him.
Turning his head, he saw Felicia, who had approached unnoticed and was now kneeling modestly before Lucian.
‘I didn’t sense her presence at all, but she’s already here...?’
Ignoring the flustered Gunstein, Felicia asked Lucian.
“To what extent should I go?”
“What extent do you want?”
“Either way is fine with me. It won't change the fact that I'll be teaching them their place.”
“Then do as you please. Since duels in this land are fundamentally a matter of life and death, you can do whatever you want.”
“Understood. I will adjust accordingly based on the situation.”
“...?”
Gunstein looked back and forth between the two with a bewildered expression.
Since they weren't using specific nouns, he had no idea what this conversation was about.
“My Lord, what on earth does this mean? Adjust? What are you adjusting?”
Lucian gave Gunstein a wide grin.
“Why, it’s about how badly Felicia is going to crush her opponents.”
“...!?”
The next morning, every single member of the tribe gathered below the Chieftain’s residence.
Duels presided over by the Chieftain were always held here.
Einar, who had arrived a bit earlier than the others, looked around and muttered.
“He seemed to have quite the spirit, but it looks like I misjudged him. Was he just a man of empty words?”
“Are you speaking of the stranger?”
“Who else? Despite making a fatal mistake, he couldn't let go of his greed and is walking straight into a death trap.”
Einar clicked his tongue at his subordinate’s question.
If she was a guard he trusted that much, even if she was a woman, she probably wasn't entirely without skill.
Perhaps she had trained and trained until she possessed strength worthy of being called a warrior.
But even so, to claim she would end every opponent in a single strike...
‘Even if she only fights opponents one or two levels below her, it’s impossible under these conditions.’
If one puts everything into the first attack, it might be possible once or twice.
However, if the same attack is repeated over and over, the fighting style is bound to be figured out.
The third opponent would already be devising a countermeasure, and the fourth would notice a weakness.
By the fifth or sixth, it wouldn't work at all.
Unless she changed her fighting style every time, but with the restriction of winning in a single blow, even that was impossible.
“It seems excessive trust in a subordinate has become a noose around his neck.”
“Trust? Nonsense. He’s just stupid. It’s nothing more than a man who hides behind a woman instead of fighting with his own strength paying the price.”
Beside Einar, another competitor and half-brother, Gormsen, spat out a sneer.
Unlike the disappointed Einar, he seemed itching to cut off Lucian’s head right this moment.
“It’s for the best. Now the Descendants of the Dragon won't fall under the rule of a stranger. Father will be able to breathe a sigh of relief as well.”
“Conversely, the Guide’s prestige will hit rock bottom. The moment the prophecy fails, the trust he’s built over decades will crumble.”
“Are you worried about that old man now? The man who tripped up the Chieftain at every turn?”
“Whatever the Guide’s inner thoughts may be, his abilities are necessary for this land. Don't get so blinded by power that you forget what’s truly important.”
the two brothers' gazes clashed in mid-air.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, as they always ended up in opposition whenever they spoke.
Normally, a few more harsh words would have been exchanged, but surprisingly, Gormsen backed down first this time.
“Fine. You’re annoying, but with a stranger involved, we can't keep up this sibling rivalry. Let’s drop him first.”
‘...You talk about sibling bonds, yet you just stood by and watched when Brunda was nearly crippled?’
Einar swallowed the words that rose to his throat.
He could at least understand the sentiment of not wanting to hand over the Chieftain’s position to an outsider.
It was just as the two of them finished their awkward conversation and turned away from each other.
“The King... no, the stranger is here!”
“The Chieftain has come out!”
Before long, shouts erupted from the tribespeople on both sides.
Lucian and Ivar appeared at the exact same time, as if they had planned it, drawing everyone’s attention.
It was something that could have wounded Ivar’s pride, but his expression was perfectly serene.
“It seems everyone is gathered. Then there’s no need to drag this out.”
Even with all the tribespeople watching, Ivar started the trial immediately without any flowery rhetoric.
He then glanced at Lucian and spoke.
“Stranger. Will you keep the word you gave yesterday?”
“Of course. She will stand as my warrior.”
Lucian answered immediately as if it were obvious and tilted his head.
At that moment, Felicia, who had been standing back until now, stepped forward.
The tribespeople, confirming that a woman had indeed stepped out as a warrior, began to whisper all at once.
“She really... a woman really came out!”
“No, what is that man thinking?”
“He said he’d give up his head if she fails to win even once.”
“Hah, he certainly has guts.”
Ivar’s smile deepened at the surrounding murmurs.
No matter how skilled a woman might be, claiming the title of warrior was a direct defiance of the laws of these snowfields.
Even if she somehow passed the trial, the people’s repulsion would never vanish.
Ivar scanned his sons, not hiding his smile.
“Which of you will step forward first? Who will reveal a warrior worthy of boasting to others?”
“I shall go first.”
The one who stepped forward without a moment’s hesitation was Gormsen.
To be precise, it was Strad, Gormsen’s right-hand man and maternal uncle.
A seasoned warrior who had decided to serve his nephew in order to place his sister’s son on the Chieftain’s throne.
He was one of the top ten strongest among all the warriors, so it was a choice everyone could accept.
“Good! Then, warriors, compete! Prove your skill and reveal the vessel of the lord you serve!”
Despite Ivar’s thunderous cry, no tribespeople cheered.
In their eyes, this wasn't a duel between warriors, but a fight between a warrior and a woman.
It was more distasteful than exciting, more bizarre than intriguing.
Amidst the silence of the crowd, Strad spoke with a dissatisfied face.
“Woman, do not resent me. This is all because your lord acted on a whim.”
“Are you still alive?”
“What?”
“It’s already over. Stop talking and die.”
“What nonsense are you—?”
Strad, frowning at the incomprehensible words, felt his neck grow damp.
It was when Strad reached up to touch his neck at the strange sensation.
Sticky blood poured down his palm and splattered onto the ground.
Only then did Strad realize that a long gash had opened across his throat.
“H-hurrrgh...!”
Strad’s voice leaked out from below his Adam’s apple like the sound of wind.
The gash grew larger and larger until it wrapped around his entire neck.
Finally, the moment Strad became unable to utter another sound, his severed head thudded onto the ground.
“...”
“...”
The onlookers blinked at the surreal sight.
What on earth just happened?
His head fell to the ground without even a single clash of swords.
While everyone stood dazed and lost for words, Felicia spoke.
“Next.”