Chapter 199
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 199
Gaemon’s childhood defeat at Felicia’s hands did not end as a mere moment of humiliation.
That single loss stripped him of his authority and pushed him behind his brothers in the race for succession. The young talents of the estate, citing that incident, sought to pledge their loyalty to his siblings instead of him. Even his father, Marquis Bernhardt, began to look upon Gaemon with increasing distrust.
To Gaemon, Felicia was nothing less than the enemy who had ruined his entire life.
—It’s all because of that bitch!
Enraged by his status being overturned in an instant, Gaemon poured all his resentment into Felicia. While his other brothers bullied her as well, Gaemon’s malice was uniquely persistent and vicious. It was so palpable that those around him felt that, were it not for the eyes of the public, he would have killed her long ago.
—That wench went missing? And Philip returned safely? That’s wonderful news!
When he later heard that Felicia had disappeared after following his younger brother Philip, Gaemon was the one who rejoiced more than anyone. Unlike Philip, the fourth son of the House of Roglan, Felicia was a mere maid. There was no way such a girl could have survived after provoking the Grand Duke’s wrath. He heard she had been knocked unconscious and dragged away; she likely died after being tortured for some trivial information.
Gaemon felt so relieved he wanted to call for a celebratory toast.
However, before long, news of Felicia reached him as if to mock his expectations.
—What? The Sword Saint’s adopted daughter? Eisen Brightner put her forward as the next Sword Saint?
It was so absurd he was left speechless. Even a female knight was a rarity found only in fairy tales, but a female Sword Saint? And not even a daughter of a prestigious Great Family, but the daughter of a lowborn commoner?
Gaemon felt his stomach churn to the point of coughing up blood. Why was it that while he was stuck in the dirt, she soared as if blessed by the Eight Gods? Even after the age of chaos arrived, far from suffering setbacks, she was asserting an even greater presence with each passing day.
—This cannot be! It cannot! O Eight Gods, why do you show such favoritism to such a lowly thing!
Every time Felicia’s fame spread through the North, Gaemon’s fits grew worse. Whenever he was pushed further back in the succession competition, he would howl that it was all because of that lowborn wench. Had Lucian not come to the House of Roglan, Gaemon might have eventually lost his mind to his recurring fits.
But the situation changed when Felicia arrived at the House of Roglan alongside Lucian.
Having regained his senses, Gaemon immediately gathered his few remaining retainers for a meeting.
“I heard Felicia, that bitch, has returned with the Pretender. I intend to go to her right now and refresh her old memories.”
“What?! My Lord, Sir Felicia… no, that woman is now the Sword Saint and the Duke’s closest confidant! This could lead to a catastrophe!”
“Do not worry. That won’t happen. And this isn’t just an act to settle a grudge. It’s a strategy for me to pull ahead in the succession race.”
The retainers were horrified by their lord’s nonsensical words, but Gaemon explained himself with surprising composure. The madness that had possessed him was gone, replaced by eyes full of sharp clarity.
“It is shameful to even speak of, but we are being unilaterally pushed back and humiliated by that Pretender. Even with Father stepping forward personally, we haven’t been able to turn the tide.”
“Mmm.”
“As a result, our house is filled with the Pretender’s troops, and mere common soldiers are strutting about with their heads held high. However, the Pretender doesn’t want a war either. Starting a war here would be nothing short of suicide.”
“That may be true, but what does the current situation have to do with insulting the Sword Saint?”
When one of the retainers raised a perfectly valid question, Gaemon burst into laughter. His attitude suggested he couldn't believe they didn't understand something so simple.
“What we desperately need right now is authority and face. And the Sword Saint is the highest authority they have after the Pretender. What would happen if we, who have been unilaterally suppressed until now, trampled upon that authority?”
“That…!”
The retainers, who were about to say it was dangerous, fell silent. It was certainly risky, but it also felt like a gamble worth taking. Marquis Bernhardt, who had been played by Lucian, was likely desperate for someone to restore his dignity. If Gaemon stepped up and vented that frustration, he could instantly capture the Marquis’s attention.
Furthermore, the bad blood between Gaemon and Felicia was common knowledge within the Marquisate. If it were an insult between factions, it would be one thing, but a verbal spat between individuals could be brushed aside somehow.
‘Above all, as the Lord said, the Pretender likely doesn’t want to go as far as war. Unless blood is shed, there’s a high chance he’ll just endure a simple insult and move on.’
The retainers were already feeling the heat as Marquis Bernhardt’s interest in them waned by the day. Even if it was a gamble, they couldn't help but be tempted when their lord presented a somewhat plausible scheme—especially since it had the potential to flip the entire situation at once.
“…It seems acceptable. It is a strategy worth attempting once.”
“I agree. As long as we don’t cross the line, there’s nothing to lose.”
As the retainers expressed their agreement one by one, Gaemon, bolstered by confidence, shouted loudly.
“Good! I shall go to that lowborn wench this instant and restore the dignity of the House of Roglan!”
No matter how much of an advantage the opponent had, a war would only result in losses for everyone. No matter what Gaemon said, that Pretender and the lowborn wench would have no choice but to stay still and do nothing.
‘It was supposed to be like that…?!’
Gaemon, his face pale, watched Felicia approach him. The killing intent in her eyes made it blatantly obvious that she had no intention of letting this go. Terrified by the situation which was completely different from his expectations, Gaemon scrambled backward and stammered.
“S-Stop! Do you really want to start a war?”
“His Majesty the King told me this: it doesn’t matter, so do as you please.”
“…!?”
“Foolish man. Did you think everything would go according to your plan? Since you’ve concocted a scheme far beyond your station, it’s time to face the consequences.”
“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”
Two escort knights stepped forward to block Felicia as she approached their lord. Their hands moved to their waists, looking ready to draw their swords at any moment. However, Felicia didn’t even spare the two knights a glance as she swung her hand.
CRACK!
“Gah!”
“...!”
With short groans, the two knights collapsed onto the dirt. It was unclear when she had even moved, but the temple areas of the knights' helmets were deeply dented. Seeing his escorts neutralized in the blink of an eye, Gaemon turned his back to flee.
SMACK!
“Ack!”
But before he could even take a single step, a powerful impact rocked his head. Only after rolling on the ground several times did Gaemon realize he had been struck on his right cheek. Based on the sensation, the palm had definitely swung from the front, not the back.
‘She was clearly behind me, so when did she get in front of me…!’
As a confused Gaemon tasted iron in his mouth, a dark shadow loomed over him.
“Get up.”
“W-Wait a minute…!”
Felicia didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed Gaemon by the nape with one hand and hauled him up. Then, she swung her hand wide again and slapped his left cheek.
WHACK!
“Aaaagh!”
The pain, which felt like being struck by a bundle of whips, sent Gaemon rolling on the ground clutching his face. Though the inside of his cheek had burst and was bleeding, all the pain was concentrated where her palm had landed. The mark left by her hand felt as hot as if it were being seared by a red-hot iron.
“Get up.”
“Spare me! I was wrong! I was wrong!”
Feeling a level of pain he had never experienced in his life, Gaemon begged for forgiveness with a face twisted in terror. His teeth were intact, but because of his swollen cheeks and the blood filling his mouth, his words wouldn't come out properly. His cowardice and wretchedness were enough to earn anyone else's pity, but unfortunately, they didn't work on Felicia.
WHACK!
“Gurgle!”
With pain even more intense than before, the skin on Gaemon’s cheek tore. Not just the inside, but the outside of his cheek began to bleed. As Gaemon crawled away, trailing blood-streaked saliva, Felicia’s hand reached out again.
“Where do you think you’re going? Come here. We’re not done yet.”
“S-Stop… Aaaaaagh!”
“What is that noise?!”
“It’s coming from the stables!”
As Gaemon began to scream like a madman, people started flocking from all directions. Even then, Felicia’s hand did not stop, swinging in rapid succession. The soldiers under Lucian and those belonging to the House of Roglan gathered on opposite sides, whispering amongst themselves.
“Did that green brat commit some rudeness toward Sir Felicia?”
“Seeing as Sir Hugo isn’t stopping her, there must be a reason.”
“I’ve never seen Sir Felicia so enraged before.”
“What is this commotion?! Who is the one being beaten?!”
“I-It’s the Third Young Master! The Third Young Master is being beaten by the Sword Saint!”
“This is insane…! Inform the knights! It’s an emergency!”
While Lucian’s soldiers stood by and watched Felicia’s corporal punishment, the soldiers of the House of Roglan were horrified once they realized the identity of the person being struck. To think the Third Young Master was being beaten like a dog in the front yard of the Roglan estate!
At the horrified shouts of the soldiers, knights who had rushed over upon hearing the noise drew their swords and shouted.
“Step away from the Third Young Master this instant! If you do not, we will cut you down!”
CLANG!
“...?”
The knights of the House of Roglan, who had issued the harsh warning, blinked in a daze. The swords they had pointed at Felicia had suddenly snapped in half with a short metallic ring. The knights realized a beat late that their swords had been severed as they saw Felicia sheathing her blade.
“This is madness…!”
They had heard of the Sword Saint’s reputation until their ears bled since childhood, but they never imagined the gap in skill would be this vast. While the knights stood frozen by her overwhelming swordsmanship—so great it made them doubt if she was even human—Felicia’s hand flew through the air once more.
WHACK!
“Aagh! Aaaaagh!”
“Y-You…!”
The knights’ jaws dropped as they watched Gaemon thrashing in agony. He had been hit so hard that the skin on both his cheeks was nearly peeled off. Yet strangely, despite his blood-soaked cheeks, his teeth remained perfectly fine.
It was proof that she was concentrating all the impact onto the skin without wasting any. Since only the skin was being damaged while the bones and internal organs remained intact, the injuries themselves weren't life-threatening. However, everyone could tell that the pain was likely as severe as anything inflicted by a master torturer.
“Sir Dirk! What are you doing?! We must save the Third Young Master!”
“He’s going to die at this rate! Don’t just watch, help him!”
The disarmed knights quickly snatched spears from the soldiers to use as weapons and shouted at Dirk. Among them, Dirk was the only one with enough skill to even attempt to stop Felicia.
Just as Dirk closed his eyes tightly under the pressure pouring in from all sides—
“Stop this instant!”
The roar of an enraged Marquis Bernhardt shook the surroundings.