Chapter 198
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 198
Fortunately, Hugo’s awkward predicament did not last long.
“My Lady.”
A heavy voice resonated from behind Hugo and Felicia, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps.
When the two turned their heads, a middle-aged knight who reminded one of tempered steel came into view.
Seeing a face he didn't recognize, Hugo blinked and whispered to Felicia.
“Who is that?”
“It is Sir Dirk, someone I knew when I was young. Have you ever heard the name Dirk Blucher?”
“Ah.”
Hugo’s eyes widened at the familiar name.
If it was Dirk Blucher, he was a knight famous for being Marquis Bernhardt’s closest confidant.
A paragon of knighthood, rumored to be flawless in swordsmanship, character, strategy, and tactics.
At the same time, however, he was also famous for being the perpetual second-best among the knights of the Empire.
After all, the Grand Ducal House of Valdek had none other than the Sword Saint, Eisen Brightner.
‘The Shadow Knight, Dirk Blucher.’
People had given Dirk that nickname with a mix of half-pity and half-mockery.
They said that had it not been for his contemporary, the Sword Saint Eisen, he would have been the most famous knight of the era, but in the end, he was a man destined to be obscured by the Sword Saint’s shadow.
They claimed he was a pitiful knight who, no matter how hard he tried, would ultimately fail to leave his name in history.
Yet, to think such a knight had a connection with Felicia.
Hugo suddenly felt the irony of the situation.
‘How ridiculous. A man who spent his entire life living in Sir Eisen’s shadow is now destined to die obscured by the shadow of Eisen’s disciple, Sir Felicia.’
If the position of Sword Saint had remained vacant, he might have had a chance to make a name for himself during the remainder of his life.
However, as soon as Sir Eisen’s funeral ended, the title of Sword Saint passed to Felicia.
For Dirk, not only had the master of the shadow changed, but he was now set to die having lived his whole life in the dark.
Hugo unconsciously looked at Dirk with pity, but Dirk did not flinch.
Though he clearly understood the meaning behind that gaze, he bowed his head slightly with an expression that suggested he didn't care in the least.
“It has been a long time, My Lady. You have grown truly magnificent.”
“Thank you. You also look well, Sir Dirk.”
“Being healthy has been my only merit since the old days. It seems the Eight Gods intend to keep this old man in this world a little longer.”
“That is a relief. I was worried your health might have declined due to your age.”
“A relief, you say.”
Felicia spoke with a smile, but conversely, a hint of bitterness flickered across Dirk’s face.
He looked as though living a long life was not a blessing, but a curse.
After gazing at Felicia’s face for a moment, Dirk let out a sigh and spoke.
“My Lady.”
“Yes, Sir Dirk.”
“Could you please return to your quarters for now?”
“…”
It was an abrupt request, but Felicia did not bother to ask why.
She simply stared at Dirk with calm eyes.
Dirk remained silent, but as her gaze persisted, he was forced to open his mouth.
“The Third Young Master is coming this way.”
“…To see me?”
“Yes.”
“Hoo.”
A cold smile formed on Felicia’s lips.
She didn't even wonder why the third son of the House of Roglan was coming to the stables.
Her attitude suggested she already knew everything without having to ask.
“That’s perfect, then.”
“…”
“Let the Third Young Master do as he wishes.”
“My Lady.”
“Isn't that what you have always done?”
Hugo, who was listening to their conversation from the side, flinched.
The warmth from moments ago was gone; Felicia’s voice was now filled with cynicism and rage.
Felicia continued, glaring at Dirk.
“Sir Dirk.”
“…Yes, My Lady.”
“I am grateful to you. When the Marquis threw me into the stables, you were the only one who continually tried to persuade him that my talent should be praised and that I should be taught swordsmanship.”
“As a knight, it was only right to do so.”
“But they were just words. You were always only diligent with your words.”
Dirk, who had been bowing his head, froze at Felicia’s cold remark.
Without giving Dirk a chance to recover, Felicia pressed on.
“You never taught me swordsmanship, nor did you ever stop the bullying. You may have felt sorry for me and pitied me, but I never received any practical help from you.”
“That is…”
“I know. The Marquis is your lord, and as a knight, following your lord’s orders is loyalty. You are truly a paragon of knighthood. However.”
Felicia spoke while looking directly into Dirk’s trembling eyes.
“I do not owe you anything.”
“…”
“The reason I feel any gratitude at all is because I was able to feel a shred of human warmth from you. That is strictly my own personal sentiment.”
If one receives a favor, it is only right as a human being to repay it.
However, Dirk’s actions were so meager that it was embarrassing to even call them a debt.
Even if those actions were considered a debt, the price Felicia would have to pay in return would be equally meager.
“You have no right to stop me, Sir. Please leave.”
At Felicia’s sharp dismissal, Dirk squeezed his eyes shut.
It was an act born not of shame or anger, but of regret and remorse.
After a moment, Dirk spoke in a voice that sounded as if it were being wrung out of him.
“Even so, what will you do if I stop you, My Lady?”
As if she had expected him to say that, Felicia replied instantly with a cold laugh.
“Before I set foot on this land, His Grace told me: ‘Run wild to your heart’s content.’”
“…!”
“I trust you understand what that means.”
How could he not understand?
Everything that was about to happen had been sanctioned by Lucian.
In other words, it meant that not only Felicia, but her lord, Lucian, would not back down a single step.
The tactic of escalating a situation to force the opponent to back down first would not work here.
If he clumsily interfered with her revenge, a bloodbath would likely sweep through the House of Roglan instead.
It would be better to let Felicia run as wild as she wanted and then deal with the aftermath.
“…I was foolish.”
Dirk couldn't help but let out a lament.
No matter how much personal pity and regret he felt, defying his lord’s will was disloyalty.
He had believed that his whole life and steadfastly pursued the path of chivalry, but what was the reality?
He had become a mere bystander to the one he once wished to help, and his words of persuasion carried no weight.
He had even ended up in a position where, far from blocking her path like a knight, he had no choice but to remain a bystander.
‘If only I had done what I believed was right back then, even if it meant defying my lord’s will…’
A bitter smile touched Dirk’s lips as his thoughts reached that point.
It was already too late to turn back, so what was the use of such thoughts?
Rather than wallowing in remorse, it was better to think about how to clean up the impending mess.
Just as Dirk finished his farewell and was about to withdraw—
“The lowborn seed has returned to her workplace. Is it not a truly cozy place?”
Hugo looked toward the source of the voice with a blank expression.
Standing there was a young noble with a spitefully twisted mouth, accompanied by two escort knights.
The young noble tapped a stable pillar with the stylish cane in his hand and spoke.
“Humans tend to feel an attachment to the place where they belong. It seems your place was the stables. Then again, there was no servant who looked after the horses as well as you did.”
“…”
“Be proud. You are the best stable girl. I, of all people, shall acknowledge that you are a being born solely to tend to horses.”
“Crazy bastard.”
Unable to hold back, an insult burst from Hugo’s mouth.
The young noble frowned at the blunt profanity.
“And who are you?”
“Who is this retard?”
Hugo ignored the young noble’s question and asked Felicia instead.
The young noble flared up at the attitude that suggested he wasn't even worth answering.
“How dare you!”
“He is Gaemon, the third son of the House of Roglan. In the past, he came at me with a wooden sword under the guise of a ‘duel game,’ only to be pathetically defeated.”
However, no one was listening to the young noble, Gaemon.
Felicia, like Hugo, ignored Gaemon as if he weren't there and answered.
Hugo tilted his head, finding something strange in her answer.
“A duel game? Sir Felicia, didn't you say you never learned the sword here?”
“It was called a duel game, but in reality, he was trying to beat me up for fun. Instead, he was the one who got beaten and knocked down by me.”
“Was that the first time you ever held a sword?”
“Yes. I remember it felt strangely natural in my hand.”
“Then this guy, after learning diligently from a swordsmanship master, lost to Sir Felicia, who was holding a sword for the first time…?”
Contempt filled Hugo’s eyes as he looked at Gaemon.
By the look of it, Gaemon was older than Felicia.
When one is young, even a one-year difference in age makes a huge difference in physical size.
Yet, despite having an overwhelming physical advantage, he had bullied a girl younger than himself and ended up being counterattacked and knocked down.
Setting aside Felicia’s talent, was it not truly pathetic?
“I thought he was just a retard, but he’s a total piece of trash.”
“Shut your mouth! Where does a mere knight think he is, wagging his tongue so recklessly!”
“Do you even know who I am? I am Hugo Meyer.”
“Hugo Meyer?”
Gaemon narrowed his eyes.
No matter how hard he thought, the name didn't ring a bell.
As Gaemon continued to ponder, one of his escort knights stepped forward and whispered.
“He is the Grand Duke’s closest aide. He was a back-alley thug, but the Grand Duke appointed him as a knight.”
“What? A thug?”
Gaemon let out a hollow laugh at the knight’s explanation.
What was a guy who was a thug by birth relying on to act so bold?
Reading Gaemon’s thoughts, Hugo smirked and spoke.
“I know what you’re thinking, but regardless of my origins, I am a close confidant of His Majesty the King.”
“And what of it?”
“It means that if you touch me, a war could break out right here.”
Gaemon flinched at the mention of war.
But it was only for a brief moment; Gaemon soon smirked slyly and shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of touching you.”
“…?”
“Even if you are a filthy back-alley thug, a guest is a guest. Even if you are a lowborn who only knows how to spit out foul words, I shouldn't lay a hand on you recklessly.”
Hugo scowled at those words.
The insults that came out as naturally as breathing were grating, but more than that, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu at Gaemon’s relaxed attitude.
As Hugo searched his memory for the source of that déjà vu, Felicia took a step forward and spoke.
“Gaemon Roglan. Not only did you insult me, but you also insulted my comrade, and furthermore, you disregarded the authority of my lord.”
“So?”
“I, Felicia Brightner, challenge you to a duel. If you have any sense of honor, take up your sword and stand before me.”
It was a challenge in name, but in reality, it was a declaration of an execution.
With Gaemon’s skills, his head would be severed before he could even properly parry a single blow.
However, Gaemon didn't even bat an eye as he curled his lip.
“I refuse.”
“…!”
“I decline the duel. Now what? Are you going to kill me? Surely you aren't planning to start a war here? Even a lowborn wouldn't be that stupid!”
Smiling confidently, Gaemon shrugged.
Only then did Hugo realize the source of his déjà vu.
Pressuring the opponent politically to corner them and then acting however one pleased.
Wasn't that the method Lucian often used?
But soon, Hugo had to stifle a laugh.
Gaemon’s method had one crucial difference from Lucian’s.
“No, I won't kill you.”
Gaemon had absolutely no plan for what to do if the table was flipped.
“What happens from now on is simply a one-sided corporal punishment.”