Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: The Weakest Link
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“Who is the strongest among the men you command?”
Young Dale drew the knight's sword hanging at an angle from his sword belt. The tip of the blade glinted under the pouring sunlight, its sharp edge gleaming menacingly.
The core of this battle ultimately lay in the clash between the cavalry forces led by the two great lords... Lord Black and the Holy Sword Master.
That was not to say the forces of the two barons were meaningless.
“You called for me, my lord!”
At Dale's call, a tall knight strode forward and answered.
He was the knight who stood closest to the baron. A faint smell of alcohol wafted from his breath.
“...”
Dale did not answer immediately.
Instead, he dismounted, spun the hilt of his sword, and plunged it into the ground.
At the same time, the hem of Dale's surcoat began to flutter wildly.
“Lord Greenbelt must surely...”
To be precise, it was the artifact 'Shadow Cloak,' camouflaged as a black surcoat.
“...be doubting my capabilities.”
Dale continued, the hem of his cloak fluttering.
“To entrust such a crucial battle to a mere ten-year-old child without any consultation.”
“W-Well, that is...”
The unexpected words made Baron Greenbelt trail off, unable to hide his bewilderment. Dale had hit the mark.
“However, I, too, doubt the capabilities of the soldiers under your command.”
Dale stated coldly. Depending on how one heard it, it was a provocation bordering on a blatant insult.
“There's no better way to resolve our mutual suspicions.”
*Shing!*
“Understood, my lord.”
As if responding to the provocation, the knight guarding the baron drew his sword.
“I, Havark, will prove the worth of the barony's sword on my honor as a knight!”
“Very well, Lord Havark.”
Dale nodded calmly.
An impromptu duel.
Soon, from Lord Havark's core, an aura refined through his inner arts spread throughout his body.
It was the surest proof that he was fighting with his full strength as a knight.
Dale, too, rotated the circle in his heart, generating a current of magical energy within his body.
While it was nothing compared to that of the knights, it wasn't impossible for a mage to 'strengthen their body with the power of mana.' More importantly, Dale's favored sword was not the knight's sword he had stuck in the ground.
“You've heard of my sword, I presume?”
“Haha! I'm well aware of your 'peculiar sword,' my lord.”
Dale had asked just in case, and Lord Havark answered as if there was nothing to worry about.
‘Does he have an ace up his sleeve or something?’
His overconfidence made Dale tilt his head for a moment.
But the fact that Dale was far from a 'conventional knight' was nothing new.
‘All the better. I can go all out without holding back.’
*Dash!*
The duel began, and it was Lord Havark who kicked off the ground first.
He was fast. But not skilled enough to imbue his blade with the power of aura. Then again, how many knights across the entire continent had reached such a level?
Even among the knights Dale commanded, only a handful of high-ranking knights could use an 'Aura Blade'.
And even if one could use an Aura Blade, the image of a Sword Master single-handedly slaughtering enemies on the battlefield was closer to fanciful 'chivalric literature' even in this world. The true strength of knights came not from a mere Aura Blade, but from the tactical destructive power born of meticulous organization.
But the best way to gauge that meticulous organization, in the end, came down to the individual prowess of the knights.
*Clang!*
A 'shadow blade' rising from beneath Dale's feet blocked Lord Havark's strike as it swung right before him.
Even if it was a mock duel, his opponent was giving it his all. Therefore, Dale, too, sharpened his blade with killing intent to match him.
A killing sword, designed solely to take the opponent's life.
“...!”
Lord Havark hastily parried Dale's murderous blade, and the shadows at Dale's feet stirred once more. A dozen shadow blades formed along the shade of his cloak and began to orbit around him.
Blades of darkness, swirling without being restricted by size, shape, or even the number of hilts.
While this might seem like a theoretical possibility only achievable if the user's skill was sufficient, for Dale, it was no mere armchair theory.
Maintaining a one-sided offense, Dale thought as if it were someone else's problem.
‘His skills are just average.’
Not that he'd had high expectations for a mere knight from a barony in the first place.
‘What on earth was he so confident about...?’
In contrast to Dale, who remained calm throughout.
‘T-This can't be!’
Under the barrage of shadow blades rushing in from all directions, Lord Havark's movements grew increasingly frantic.
He hadn't intended to be careless just because his opponent was a ten-year-old child. It wasn't carelessness. But as long as he was fighting with his full strength using the power of aura, he hadn't imagined the 'possibility of defeat' against a ten-year-old brat.
‘This is impossible!’
A knight fighting at full strength with the power of aura was being pushed back in a pure sword fight.
Even if it was an ominous sword born from an artifact of darkness, to think that he, who had honed his swordsmanship his entire life, was being overwhelmed in 'swordplay' by a mere ten-year-old brat!
Wasn't his opponent just a 'ten-year-old child'?!
It was impossible.
—Even if he had been neglecting his training, spending his days indulging in wine and women.
—Even if he had skipped swordsmanship practice just this morning to have a few hearty drinks with his men.
In any case, by Lord Havark's standards, it was 'impossible.'
*Shunk!*
‘Huh?’
And an unexpected sound was heard.
“Aaargh!”
Along with an unexpected scream.
“Aaargh, aaaaaargh!”
“L-Lord Havark!”
Baron Greenbelt cried out, unable to hide his shock.
‘Huh?’
Seeing this, Dale had to doubt his own eyes again. Because he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Dale's 'shadow blade' had torn through Lord Havark's pauldron and shoulder, protruding from the other side.
‘No way.’
The man called the 'strongest knight' under Baron Greenbelt's command had been defeated after failing to parry just a few blows.
‘He couldn't dodge this? Seriously?’
Not only that, but he was injured to the point of being unable to continue fighting, all while screaming disgracefully in a way that would make any knight weep.
It was a truly unbelievable sight. And yet, he had to believe it.
“...Is this for real?”
Dale muttered, utterly dumbfounded.
Even though he hadn't expected much, he never imagined they would be this pathetic.
***
“L-Lord Dale!”
Looking at his 'strongest knight,' who could no longer continue the fight.
“What is the meaning of this!”
Baron Greenbelt raised his voice, unable to hide his shock.
“With such an important battle ahead, you've rendered my barony's elite knight combat-ineffective!”
As if reprimanding Dale for his actions.
‘This is driving me crazy.’
To be honest, it was a situation even Dale hadn't anticipated.
He never thought a proper, official knight who could use aura arts would be crushed so easily, unable to handle even this much.
“Even for you, my lord, an act like this is...!”
It was at that moment.
“How dare you raise your voice, and to whom!”
One of the jet-black knights attending Dale spoke, his voice filled with anger.
Along with the five hundred knights who had sworn endless loyalty to the Duke's eldest son and gathered under his command.
The pride of Duke Sachsen, the greatest lord of the North—the Night Raven Knights.
“H-Hiiiek!”
Startled by the earth-shaking roar, Baron Greenbelt fell on his backside.
Dale silently raised an arm to restrain his knights.
“Lord Greenbelt.”
After stopping them, Dale spoke coldly.
“Do you not understand your current position?”
He addressed the baron, who was so quick to doubt his abilities, in a cold voice devoid of any emotion.
“Did you simply trust in the name of our House Sachsen and sit idly by while your swords grew so rusty and dull?”
The gentleness from before was completely gone from his voice.
“W-Well, that is...”
“Is this man, so helplessly defeated by a mere ten-year-old brat, the 'strongest knight' you boast of?”
Dale continued, a self-deprecating sneer on his face.
A defeat stemming from a 'difference in talent' with Dale would have been understandable. But Lord Havark's defeat was not simply due to a lack of talent with the sword.
Having honed his combat experience over a lifetime, Dale could tell.
“Our House Sachsen will not hesitate to be a shield for the houses loyal to us.”
A flicker of relief crossed Baron Greenbelt's face, but Dale continued impassively in a voice devoid of emotion.
“But that is no reason for you to neglect your duties as lord of this land.”
“...!”
“Therefore, until the battle comes, our ducal knights will sharpen your swords for you.”
With the five hundred knights of Sachsen behind him, Dale spoke.
“So, on your knees.”
Before him, there were not many decisions a minor lord and his rabble of knights could make.
***
That night, in a room in the baron's castle.
‘This is hopeless.’
That was Dale's first impression after inspecting Baron Greenbelt's forces.
‘...I was a frog in a well.’
And he was realizing just how pathetic the world outside the well was.
Realizing just how high the standards of those he grew up with were.
Receiving a knighthood and mastering aura arts was not the end. It was a knight's duty to never neglect their training and to endlessly sharpen their sword, just as Dale clashed blades with the knights of House Sachsen every dawn at the ducal castle.
But not every knight in the North could be like the knights of Duke Sachsen.
‘Still, I never imagined it would be this bad.’
He wasn't just talking about Lord Havark. The rest of the knights were no exception. They were all a disorderly mob, a disgrace to the name of knight.
There were even reports of them forming cliques, skipping training almost daily, and indulging in wine and women.
Not to mention the conscripts made up of the fief's serfs.
‘An unexpected complication has arisen.’
Even if the core of this battle was the cavalry of the two great nobles, he couldn't just treat the barony's entire force as disposable pawns. Thinking that far, he soon realized something.
This was the enemy's plan. The Holy Sword Master must have grasped the situation in this fief beforehand and designated Baron Greenbelt's domain for a reason.
He was targeting the 'weakest link' under the banner of the North.
The Holy Sword Master's trap.
‘So that's how you want to play.’
War was like that, after all. The enemy was no fool. Schemes and strategies crossed paths before the clash even began, and one always encountered unexpected situations.
For Dale, who had been through thick and thin, this was nothing new.