Chapter 75
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 75
“Did I keep you waiting long?”
“No, you’ve arrived right on time. But the fellow behind you is...”
Harald spoke as if it were nothing, but Lucian couldn’t simply let it slide. If the man did something unexpected, it could lead to trouble.
Noticing Lucian’s discomfort, Harald gave a bitter smile.
“Don’t mind him. I plan to just leave him standing there like a wooden post.”
“May I ask why?”
“It is my last lingering regret.”
At those words, Lucian could roughly guess Harald’s feelings. Here was a son who was itching to uproot Northern traditions rather than protect them. It was already too late to mend their relationship, but perhaps Harald hoped his son might feel something, anything, through this duel.
“....”
Torik remained silent, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked away, indifferent to the sentiment.
Understanding the situation, Lucian nodded and stepped forward.
“Very well. When shall we begin?”
“There is no need to keep the audience waiting. Draw your weapon.”
Thump.
A heavy axe hit the ground, the sound echoing through the surroundings. It had a resonance entirely different from the axes Harald had swung before.
That’s no ordinary axe. Is it a relic?
Relics were legacies of a bygone era, crafted with ancient techniques that had long since vanished. Even a low-grade relic fetched an astronomical price, and a mid-grade one was equivalent to a family heirloom. Naturally, their power was as formidable as their rarity.
It seems he has no intention of holding back.
Shring.
With a faint smirk, Lucian drew the sword from his waist. It wasn’t a relic, but it was a blade forged with precious Adamantium. In terms of durability alone, it could more than withstand the strikes of a relic. Pure skill would be the only thing deciding the outcome of this duel.
“May this duel be a fair and honorable fight, unashamed before the Eight Gods.”
Whoosh.
Raymond, acting as the referee, finished the brief rite and stepped back.
At that exact moment, Harald lunged toward Lucian, the air booming in his wake. Lucian let out a silent, dry laugh at the unbelievable speed.
Is this the power of the relic!
Runes hidden on the axe began to glow, radiating a magical aura. An ordinary knight wouldn't have even dared to clash with it and would have tried to retreat. However, Lucian swung his sword with all his might instead.
It was the moment the thick axe and the slender sword collided.
Claaaaang!
A deafening roar numbed the ears, and a shockwave exploded in all directions.
Whoosh!
“....”
Palmyr, a knight of the House of Calix, could not believe what was unfolding before his eyes. His body trembled from the shockwaves that erupted every time the sword and axe met. It was an impact that would have shattered his own arms in a single exchange. Yet, the two men in the duel were trading such blows over and over again.
It’s so absurd I can’t help but laugh.
It was surprising that Viscount Harald possessed such martial prowess, but that was still within the realm of understanding. He was a man who had made a name for himself in his youth as the ‘Wolf Slayer,’ a title recognized by old knights and the previous generation of family heads. With his natural build, a tempered body, countless years of combat experience, and the power of a relic, it wasn't strange for him to exert such strength.
But that boy... how does that even make sense?
What Palmyr found impossible to accept was Lucian. He was a mere youth of about sixteen, with a physique that was average at best. His experience in the field must be negligible, and he lacked any accumulated years of wisdom. Even his sword possessed no magical effects other than being exceptionally sturdy.
How is he fighting on equal terms with Harald?
Boom!
Another roar thundered as a shockwave swept the area. After a series of rapid exchanges, the two men finally leaped apart.
“Hahaha! Hahahaha!”
A burst of laughter escaped Harald’s lips. Surprise still lingered in his eyes, but a sense of pleasure far greater than that was coursing through his body.
I thought he’d have a hidden trump card, but to think it was this much!
Harald had poured all his strength into the fight, even mobilizing his family’s relic. It wasn't because he craved victory, but to show the boy what the North was truly like. If Lucian’s spirit broke under this level of pressure, it would be better for him to leave the North quietly.
No matter how much spirit one had, the difference in combat experience and training was usually insurmountable. Therefore, Harald had expected that even if he lost, it would be due to the youth’s characteristic recklessness or some clever trick.
But he’s actually trying to break me head-on!
It felt as if his heart, which had been dead for a long time, was beating again. It wasn't just the exhilaration of battle. It was an excitement closer to the realization that what he thought was a promising sprout was actually a hero in the making.
I thought the unification of the North was nothing but nonsense that would never happen.
But perhaps it was possible. If this hero in the making, currently swinging his sword before him, were to step forward in earnest. If he were recognized by the Northerners as the rightful heir of Grimaldi. Perhaps the glory of the old kingdom truly could be restored.
“Are you satisfied?”
A relaxed voice reached Harald’s ears as he tried to calm his excitement. Harald gripped his axe tightly and looked at the boy. Despite the intense exchange, Lucian wore a smile that suggested he still had plenty of strength to spare.
“Indeed, I am more than satisfied! Do you have more to show me?!”
“If you wish.”
As Lucian gave his willing reply, blue mana began to shimmer around his body. At the sight of the materialized mana, the spectating knights cried out in unison.
“Visualization of Mana?!”
“This is insane...!”
For internal mana to overflow to the point of being visible to others meant one of two things: either his mana control had reached the level of a Sword Saint, or he possessed a level of mana that defied common sense. The former would mean he was the genius of the century, and the latter would mean his body was closer to a dragon than a human. Either way, he was a monster.
“Hah, I haven’t been this surprised in all my years.”
Harald gripped his axe, feeling the ripples of mana against his skin. If possible, he wanted to continue the exchange and find out what else the boy was hiding. However, as a result of using the relic with all his might, his old body was already creaking in various places. If he continued the fight any longer, his strength would fail, and he would only be able to throw unsightly attacks.
“It’s a pity, but I’d like to settle this with the next exchange. What do you say?”
“Fine by me. Come.”
“Hahaha! You really are something, right until the end!”
Harald laughed again as he saw Lucian take a defensive stance. In battle, the attacker always held the initiative. Yet, Lucian was yielding even the first move of the final blow to Harald.
Then I must live up to those expectations.
Wroooooom.
As if responding to Harald’s fighting spirit, the runes engraved on the axe flashed. The radiance grew stronger and stronger, eventually shining more brilliantly than even in his prime. It was the moment the audience’s vision blurred from the light of the runes.
BOOM!
Along with a thunderous explosion, a massive vibration spread throughout the entire territory. Some of those watching from nearby collapsed while clutching their ears, while others fell backward or stumbled.
Once the light and dust cleared, the onlookers could finally see the result of the duel. Of the two men standing close together, only Lucian held a weapon. Harald’s hands were empty, positioned as if he had just struck something downward.
Thud.
“...!?”
People’s gazes shifted toward the sound that followed a beat late. Harald’s axe, which had been sent flying from his hands, was now embedded in the castle wall.
Harald, his hands trembling violently, let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, now. I have nothing to say after such a complete defeat.”
“It is my victory, then.”
“Yes, it is your victory.”
Harald gave a broad smile, then clasped his hands and bowed deeply. It wasn't a gesture of consideration for a youth, but the etiquette of a warrior showing respect to someone worthy of it.
“Forgive my previous rudeness. Harald Osgor offers his greetings once more to the descendant of Grimaldi and a warrior of the North.”
Terrifying. Just how strong was he in his youth?
Lucian massaged his aching wrist and clicked his tongue. While the physical enhancement from the relic was significant, the skill to swing the axe in a perfect trajectory and the optimal distribution of power were Harald’s own pure abilities. His strength was already formidable, but the fact that it was wielded so perfectly made its power surprising even to Lucian.
If I hadn't opened my eyes after drinking the Nectar, I would have had to dodge and weave instead of using this direct approach. I’m glad I finished my preparations before coming here.
Lucian had sparred repeatedly with Felicia until recently. He could have used as many tricks as he wanted—dodging, counterattacking, and catching his opponent off guard. However, the North was a region that valued stubborn strength over flashy technique. To be properly recognized, he needed to win through a head-on clash of power against power.
Still, the hard work paid off.
“....”
“....”
The onlookers were now silently staring at Lucian. It wasn't that they couldn't accept reality or that they doubted the outcome. It was closer to not knowing how to react to the marvel they had just witnessed.
Harald seemed to notice this as well, as he laughed and patted Lucian on the shoulder.
“The duel is over. Let us go back and talk. If we stay here, these people won’t budge an inch.”
“Let’s do that. Could you move aside? I’m passing through.”
“Yes, yes!”
Scuttle.
At Lucian’s words, the commoners scrambled to both sides, creating a path that was excessively wide. Lucian gave a short laugh at the attitude of the people, who seemed careful not to even step on his shadow.
I feel like some legendary hero.
“Now, let’s go!”
Harald gave Lucian a light tap on the back and led the way, as if telling him to fully enjoy the respect he had earned for himself in the North. Lucian didn't decline and followed Harald toward the lord’s manor.
While everyone watched their retreating figures with envious eyes, one person’s face remained grim.
This is bad.
Palmyr clenched his fists, which were drenched in sweat. It was a problem that a sixteen-year-old brat was as strong as a monster, but an even bigger problem was the boy’s political sense. Those without eyes would praise the duel as a man’s fight or some such nonsense. But in Palmyr’s eyes, the style of fighting—clashing power against power—was a move made with thorough calculation.
I could only see it faintly, but the boy always moved a beat later than Viscount Harald to parry the axe. There’s no way someone who can respond perfectly while moving a beat late couldn't dodge the attacks.
And yet, Lucian had clashed with the axe every single time, demonstrating his strength to everyone watching. It meant he knew exactly what the Northerners wanted and what kind of fight would captivate them. Sure enough, the area was filled with people looking at the departing Lucian as if he were an idol.
If left alone, he’ll become a thorn in the side of the House of Calix. I have to nip this in the bud before he grows any further.
Of course, nipping it in the bud didn't mean assassination. With Palmyr’s skills, he would be killed by Lucian rather than the other way around. However, it was possible to bind an opponent with politics rather than martial force.
First, I must face him. If I can just meet him and discuss his rights, that’s half the battle won.
Unlike Dane, who had returned without even getting a proper handle on things, Palmyr was confident in his negotiation skills. No, if necessary, he was prepared to spout sophistry and lies without hesitation. No matter how great his political sense, the opponent was someone who didn't know the inner workings of the North. If he confused Lucian with false information, the boy wouldn't be able to move for a while, if only to verify the facts.
“Ahem, come to think of it, I haven't even properly greeted His Excellency the Viscount despite visiting his territory.”
“It’s a bit late, but it would be best to go now. And we can see Lord Lucian while we’re at it.”
Tsk.
Palmyr frowned at the excuses the other knights were muttering. It seemed the knights of the other lords, who had been testing the waters until now, were trying to align themselves with Lucian.
“Move!”
Palmyr ignored the gazes from around him and hurried toward the inner castle. He had to meet Lucian before anyone else to unsettle him. If Lucian lost his composure, impatience would naturally seep out, and he would end up disappointing those who came to see him later.
Thanks to his haste, Palmyr arrived at the lord’s manor before the other knights. But when he delivered his request to meet Lucian...
“Ah, you’re a knight from the House of Calix? I’m sorry, but the Young Master has no business with you. Don’t just linger around; leave quietly.”
“...!?”
Palmyr stood there with his mouth agape, stunned by the guest expulsion order delivered by a mere squad leader, not even a knight.