Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: A Duel for Rheims
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The man was entangled with naked prostitutes.
In a castle bedroom, gaudily decorated with every luxury imaginable, despite the raging war outside.
“Your Highness, Charles.”
The man did not answer the Holy Maiden Orelia's call. He simply buried his face in the prostitutes' breasts, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead.
The entire room reeked of stale liquor, a scene that made a mockery of the so-called righteous war to win independence from the Empire's tyranny.
“Your Highness, Charles.”
After a moment of silence, the Holy Maiden Orelia spoke again. She had to call the ‘king’s name’ five more times before he responded.
“Ugh, hmm…? W-what is it?”
Only then did Charles VII, the ‘rightful heir to the throne of Britannia,’ stumble to his feet. The moment he sat up, he grabbed a golden goblet inlaid with rubies… and began gulping down the wine a prostitute poured for him.
It was the middle of the day, with the sun high in the sky.
“The Imperial army's baggage train has just handed over a large quantity of military supplies, as we demanded.”
“Is that so…? Hmm, well done, well done.”
It was a decisive gain, enough to turn the tide of the war. Yet Charles VII’s expression remained unimpressed.
“In any case, it means the day I become king of this country isn’t far off, right?”
“…That is correct.”
The Holy Maiden Orelia nodded, recalling the words of the ‘Black Prince’ from the recent negotiations for Phillip’s ransom.
“Furthermore, the enemy commander has made a most suspicious proposal.”
To surrender Rheims, the capital of the Kingdom of Britannia, without bloodshed.
“What, aren’t those bastards just scared and trying to run away?”
Even at this astonishing news, Charles VII’s attitude remained unchanged. He showed not a shred of caution, merely dismissing her words with a look of utter annoyance.
“Ah, that reminds me.”
It was at that moment.
“There is something I wish to ask of you.”
For a moment, a spark of intelligence, sharper than any she had seen before, lit up Charles VII’s eyes. Was he finally coming to his senses, ready to fulfill his royal duties?
“Please speak, Your Highness.”
Not daring to let go of that sliver of hope, the Holy Maiden Orelia asked.
“Among the supplies the Imperial army handed over, please bring me some wine from the southern part of the Empire.”
“...!”
His reply was that of a drunkard, betraying her every expectation.
“Khaha, I miss the taste of southern Imperial wine so much I can’t stand it!”
Saying so, Charles VII burst into laughter.
“To commemorate taking the kingdom’s capital, isn’t this the perfect occasion to break open some wine?”
At his words, the prostitutes beside him burst into loud laughter.
*A special occasion? You held a massive drinking party just yesterday.*
Suppressing the words that rose to her throat, the Holy Maiden Orelia could only bow her head in silence.
Royal blood flowed through his veins, and for that reason alone, this man was qualified to become the King of Britannia. For that was the ‘will of the heavens.’
They would simply retake the capital, Charles VII’s coronation would take place, and…
Unbidden, thoughts of what would happen next flashed through her mind.
—Will you uphold the orders of King Charles VII, the king of the newly reborn Kingdom of Britannia, as if they were a divine revelation from the goddess?
The dagger the ‘Black Prince’ had once plunged into her chest.
***
“You’re going to just hand over Rheims to those Independence Army bastards?!”
At Dale’s words, the Holy Sword Master, Count Brandenburg, raised his voice in disbelief.
Rheims, the capital of the old Kingdom of Britannia and the place where the rightful heir to the throne traditionally held their coronation.
“Do you even understand what that means, you brat from House Sachsen…?!”
“Ah, yes, I understand it very well.”
Dale replied, a smirk in his voice. Lady Scarlet simply remained silent.
Devoid of the coquettish charm she had displayed until recently, her expression was impassive.
“And Count.”
Dale continued, unfazed.
“It seems you still don’t know your place.”
“W-what did you say…?”
“Have you already forgotten our contract?”
Dale continued, facing the Holy Sword Master, who made no effort to hide his rage.
“I’m your superior.”
“...!”
The binding oath made between the two. At Dale's mockery, the Holy Sword Master's anger flared anew.
“Your days of being smug won’t last long…!”
“I get it, so just stay put and keep your head down.”
Dale replied nonchalantly.
“When your superior gives an order, you follow it. What’s with all the backtalk?”
***
Just as Dale had promised, not a soul stood in the way of the Britannia Independence Army’s advance.
The main Imperial forces stationed in Rheims had also withdrawn their troops early, in step with the Independence Army’s approach.
And when the Britannia Independence Army reached the ancient capital, their ultimate goal.
There, in Rheims, where a bloodless entry awaited, someone was waiting to greet the forces led by the Holy Maiden.
It was the commander-in-chief of the Imperial army, the ‘Black Prince’ of House Sachsen.
***
Dale was right there.
He stood on the lowered drawbridge of Rheims, the capital of the former Kingdom of Britannia, as if to single-handedly block the enemy forces.
Like a legendary warrior holding a bridge against an army.
But that was an impossible task, even for someone like Dale.
Because even the Imperial army, with the Holy Sword Master, a 7th-Circle red magician, and the Purifier unit under his command, could not guarantee victory against the powerful individuals in the Independence Army led by the Holy Maiden.
In other words, there was no guarantee they could win even in an all-out war.
—It wasn't that they had no chance of victory from the beginning. No, in fact, the Imperial army had held an overwhelming advantage.
If knights were to be called the ‘flower of war,’ then there was a core power among the branches of the military known as the ‘god of war.’
High-level magicians.
That had been the case until a certain genius of defeat managed to squander the majority of that ‘high-level magician force.’
A force that could intervene and exert influence even in the battles of extraordinary powerhouses, assuming they were providing cover from the rear. To think that stationing them in the impregnable fortress ‘Belle Porte,’ considering their importance, would turn into a self-destructive move leading to their annihilation.
“Young Lord of House Sachsen.”
In that worst-case scenario, he faced the enemy army alone. Dale of Sachsen, the ‘Black Prince’ himself.
“As promised, will you hand over Rheims to our Independence Army?”
Therefore, dealing with Dale was ultimately the role of the Holy Maiden Orelia.
On the drawbridge that spanned the moat surrounding the city walls, the Holy Maiden confronted the ‘Black Prince.’
“I will hand over Rheims as promised.”
Dale began to speak.
“But before that, there is something I would like to ask.”
“Please speak.”
“Would you be so kind as to grant me a lesson with your sword, Holy Maiden?”
A lesson. Just as countless opponents had once challenged the ‘Black Prince.’ But now, standing in the position of the challenger, Dale spoke.
“Does that mean a fight to the death?”
“No, what I desire is merely the Holy Maiden’s ‘lesson.’”
The Holy Maiden tilted her head in confusion, and Dale replied.
“Before the Holy Maiden's sword, my magic is nothing more than a child’s plaything.”
It was obvious. The Holy Maiden Orelia was a powerhouse that even the current Dale could not handle. He wasn't aiming for victory in the first place. He was like a child unable to contain his curiosity before the martial prowess the ‘Holy Maiden's sword’ would display.
But within that curiosity, he concealed a pitch-black scheme.
“Very well.”
The Holy Maiden grasped the hilt of the sword in its gold-embroidered scabbard.
Even if Dale were to use one hundred percent of his power, he could not win right now. The Holy Maiden surely knew this as well. In fact, it was a proposal she could accept *because* of that.
*Shing.*
From the sword belt at her hip, her blade flashed with a cold, blue light.
“Does the sword have a name?”
“It is the iron sword of a nameless old soldier who fought honorably and died for the kingdom's independence.”
The Holy Maiden replied.
“I hold this sword to honor his dying will.”
The sword of a nameless soldier.
“I call this sword the ‘Nameless Sword.’”
At the same time, a dark blue magic began to swirl at Dale's feet.
It was an overwhelming amount of magical power, enough for even those watching from a distance to grasp its meaning. The Independence Army soldiers in the rear grew flustered and quickly took a battle stance, but the Holy Maiden Orelia did not.
She simply raised her arm calmly to stop them.
“Everyone, stand back.”
Stand back. With those words, a light flickered along Orelia's Nameless Sword.
It was not the pure white pursued by the Holy Sword Master and the Order of Saint Magdalena.
A radiant golden light. A light so brilliant one could not look at it directly began to coil around Orelia's sword and armor.
The act of projecting one's ideals onto one's sword, armor, and body. The realm of an ‘Aura Master,’ a state that even talented knights could not be sure of reaching, even if they dedicated their entire lives to the sword.
A transcendent power indistinguishable from magic was being displayed there by a mere serf's daughter.
The ultimate form of combat sought by a knight's sword.
The Armor of Ideals, an Avatar.
—A Valkyrie, armed in golden armor, stood there.
The maiden of war. The sign of a revelation, said to be the descent of a goddess.
*So that is the Holy Maiden's true form…*
After that thought, Dale focused his mind. A mock duel with the Holy Maiden. This was, of course, part of his strategy for victory, but it also had another, extremely personal purpose.
The things that could be gained by facing an extraordinary powerhouse. The realm that the current Dale had right before his eyes.
The 4th Circle.
*Honestly, there's no chance of winning.*
He hadn't challenged her with the intention of winning in the first place. Furthermore, even in a mock duel, a fight between the strong could mean losing one's head at a moment's notice. A split second of carelessness could lead directly to death.
But there was a one-in-a-hundred chance. If he were to attain the 4th Circle here, his chance of winning would not be zero. Though even at its highest, it would be no more than one percent.
*If that happens, things will become much easier.*
If he won, the war would end right here. Even if he couldn't win, Dale had his next move. It was a gamble where he had nothing to lose from the start.
But the Holy Maiden Orelia, too… must have considered Dale's proposal the optimal way to take Rheims without sacrifice.
“Let the duel begin.”
On the Holy Maiden's face as she looked at Dale, there was no trace of the carelessness one would show a twelve-year-old child.
At the same time, the swirling dark blue magic at Dale's feet spread throughout the area.
Orelia was not unaware of its meaning. Just as high-level knights don the ‘Armor of Ideals’ called an Avatar, it was the act of a high-level magician consciously overlaying their ‘world of ideals’ onto this one.
The Magician's World.
The essence of magic that magicians below the 6th Circle couldn't even dream of was being unfurled by the hands of a twelve-year-old child who was merely 3rd Circle.
It was unbelievable. But the Holy Maiden Orelia did not panic. Dale was not the only irregular who had obtained power beyond the standard.
—A world of a white and dark winter night enveloped the two of them.
A horizon of nothingness and void.
“...!”
It was the very 《World of Death》, where chilling cold and darkness raged.
But even that chilling cold and darkness could not dominate the presence of the Holy Maiden, who shone with golden light.
*So that is an Avatar…*
The Holy Maiden's Nameless Sword scattered a brilliant golden light. A cape made of light fluttered behind her golden armor.
“Prepare yourself, Young Lord Dale.”
The Holy Maiden Orelia spoke.
But this was Dale's world, and Dale, projecting its chilling cold and darkness, was no easy opponent.
“I await your guidance.”
Dale bowed politely. At the same time, the chilling cold and darkness swirled at his feet, his shadow cloak fluttering in manic glee behind him.
“—Shub.”
Dale called a young girl's name.
The golden Valkyrie surged forward like a flash of light.