Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Noble Shield Arena
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"Are you sure it's okay for us to go together?"
Unfamiliar with their dresses, Marian and Nellin fiddled with their hair.
"Of course. We came here together, didn't we? Should I leave you two behind?"
Bright smiles bloomed on the two girls' faces.
Marian sneaked a peek at her dress, marveling in wonder.
"How does it fit our bodies so perfectly? It feels just like custom tailoring."
"It is custom-made."
"Pardon?"
"I made them myself."
Lately, my hobbies had expanded beyond embroidery to clothing as well.
So I'd experimented by making dresses from fabric with my own hands.
These were made purely for Marian and Nellin, tailored to each of their personalities.
For Marian, a calm blue-toned dress with a subtle pattern; for Nellin, a light lavender one dotted with playful water droplet designs.
"Really? Young master's handiwork is just..."
"Wow."
"Then let's head out."
As we stepped out of the room, Ralph and Closs were already dressed in their tailcoats.
"Let's go, let's go! We're late!"
Ralph urged us on like he was the leader of our group.
Taken by the hand, we made our way to the banquet hall.
A crowd of young nobles had already gathered there.
"Ralph!"
One of the noble youths spotted him and approached.
Ralph shook his hand warmly in greeting.
"You're here too. How've you been?"
Ralph naturally parted from our group. I gave the others a nudge to mingle at the party.
"Go have fun."
"Alright...!"
Nellin bolted straight for the table laden with food. Once she was off, Marian gave a polite bow.
"Then I'll go too, young master."
"Go ahead."
With the two girls gone, it was just me and Closs left.
"You not going?"
"...I don't do anything inefficient."
What an odd guy.
Even though we were from the same family, I didn't know much about Closs.
In my first life, he'd been the type to silently carry out his duties without a word.
I knew he was Ian's dog, but his true intentions were impossible to read.
Like an empty puppet, almost.
I'd have to keep a close eye on him from now on. And if he tried any funny business... I'd put a swift end to it.
"Fine, do what you want. I'm heading out."
Leaving Closs behind, I moved to one side of the hall to size up the crowd.
Unlike our first encounter, things had settled into a calmer rhythm, perhaps.
Ran Pador's birthday party proceeded relatively smoothly on the surface.
Lavish food and decorations, young nobles enjoying it all.
They seemed like guests genuinely there to celebrate a birthday.
Of course, the reality was different.
Some swallowed their pride and bowed low to forge connections, while others schemed for their family's gain in every interaction.
Nobles were a breed who knew all too well the immense privileges and power they held.
That's why they relentlessly schemed to avoid slipping from those lofty positions.
Here, they strengthened alliances and struck deals.
In simple terms, it was like a slightly more refined marketplace.
They laid out their own value and their families', swiftly judging if a deal would profit or cost them.
The late-stage experts in the martial world gathered just like this...
The Divine Dragon of the North River, the Five Beauties of the South River—they'd praise each other while subtly establishing hierarchies.
And such gatherings were always rife with fights.
What good was putting on airs of elegance?
In the end, they were all sword-wielding killers.
Even with my closest friend Gong Cheon-gae, that's how we'd met.
We'd been full of youthful fire back then.
Good times, those.
The moment we crossed paths, we fought—and what a uproar it was.
I'd laughed myself sick when one of Gong Cheon-gae's teeth went flying.
Fond memories, fond memories.
Though I doubt it was fond for him.
Anyway, this place was no different from the martial world.
All gathered here were nobles.
Power ruled everything as plainly as water flows. And in such places, troublemakers always popped up.
Like those guys over there, for instance.
Splat...!
"Ugh, this was expensive... Why'd you have to touch it? You filthy bastard."
A man brushing off his clothes.
On closer look, it was the burly one from the North family who'd picked a fight with us that morning.
Across from him stood a bespectacled boy from a noble house.
Awkward and clumsy, his clothes worn and frayed.
He looked the very picture of a down-on-his-luck noble.
The commotion drew eyes from across the banquet hall.
But no one stepped in to help—they just snickered like it was prime entertainment.
"Who's that guy?"
"Ew... so gross."
"Makes me wanna puke."
The casual barrage of insults crushed the fallen boy even further.
He hung his head low.
"Unbelievable. You want my support? You want me to see potential in you?"
The burly man leaned in, whispering to the boy.
"I hate your kind—nobles in name only."
He tapped the boy's forehead repeatedly.
"Even being lumped together as 'nobles' pisses me off. Got it?"
They say the world's greatest spectacle is watching a fight.
But only if it's between equals.
One-sided violence like this was no fun at all.
I called out to the burly man.
"Couldn't agree more."
"...?"
His head snapped around.
He glared at me with clear annoyance.
Not one to be intimidated,
I pressed on.
"Being lumped with the likes of him as 'nobles'—I can't even stand hearing him breathe. So how about shutting that mouth of yours?"
The burly man pulled away from the boy and lumbered toward me.
"What'd you say?"
"Ears plugged with muscle too? Ah, so that's why you're dumb as rocks?"
"Ha?"
He puffed up, sneering.
"What, feeling some kinship? Earlier I didn't recognize you—thought you might be that great Pador second son, Mihail or whatever. Turns out you're just the family deadweight?"
What a lame provocation.
Being compared to my brothers? I'd endured that endlessly in my past life—no sting at all.
If anything, I egged him on further.
"Yeah, yeah—keep going."
My casual response made a vein throb at his temple.
"All you can do is flap your gums, huh? Pathetic. Everyone here knows you're some sickly cripple who can't even hold a sword. Wait, no—you do have one talent."
He waggled his pinky finger.
"Kissing up to the higher-ups. Word is you're real good at wagging your tail!"
Ah, rumors about me being close to Marina, huh.
Too childish to even bother responding.
Not refined at all. Not refined.
If the Sword Immortal were here, he'd have me seething subtly enough to twist my guts.
Those uptight Taoists were pros at riling people up without drawing blood.
Need more inner power for this. More inner power.
Time to teach this fool what real needling looks like.
I slowly pointed a finger into empty air.
"Oh, brother Mihail—when'd you get here?"
The burly fool jolted in surprise, whipping his head around.
What a blockhead.
He'd been calling my second brother "that guy" earlier, but now he was scared to face him?
"...?"
He looked left, then right.
Scanning the surroundings, following my finger—only to find a dozing Andrew where he looked.
Realizing he'd been played, veins bulged from his neck.
"You little shit...!"
"See? You're right—I am good at making tail-waggers shut up. Even barking dogs like you."
"You...! Keep talking and you won't walk away."
Blah blah blah.
Shut up already. No fire in this young punk.
The Venerable of the Evil Faction would've swung first, no words wasted.
Guess I need to rile him up more...
"Hey, if you wanna fight, tell me, tubby."
Suddenly, a back blocked my view—like a protective shield. It was...
"Ralph?"
"Quiet. I told you not to cause trouble, Deyan!"
Worried about me, of all people...?
Ralph shot me a glare, then turned back to the burly man.
"Don't pick on weaklings—come at me if you want, Easton."
Weakling?
These guys keep calling me that.
Starting to get on my nerves now.
I tilted my head, reassessing the scene.
Easton—the burly one—ground his teeth at Ralph's arrival.
"Wondered when you'd show, you yapping mutt. Your family's nosy as hell. Perfect timing, though."
Easton clenched his fist with a deliberate crack of knuckles.
He glanced back briefly. At the end of his gaze stood Gilpert North, who slowly closed his eyes.
Approval? Easton smirked slyly, then raised his hand high as if to crush Ralph.
Then... he showed his palm.
All eyes locked on.
They waited expectantly.
Easton obliged, slowly removing his glove... and tossing it at Ralph.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
"A duel..."
"A duel? He's insane. At a birthday party?"
It was a duel challenge.
The formal noble rite for signaling intent to duel.
No backing out now.
Not legally, of course—but nobles lived by honor.
Refuse, and you'd be branded a coward who abandoned your honor.
Duels were family honor on the line.
I scanned the room. No one moved to intervene.
Far off, the birthday boy Ran Pador wore a strange smile.
Just watching?
That's Ran Pador for you.
This mess was inevitable from the start.
Even if we hadn't stirred it, he'd have maneuvered a clash somehow.
That's the kind of guy he is.
Still, I sensed curiosity from him—and everyone else.
Pador and North.
Unlike Tral with spears or Ford with one-handed sword and shield, both were sword houses.
Bound as top four noble houses since ancient times, inseparable in skill.
Who held the superior sword?
Natural they'd want to see it settled here and now.
But Ralph, bold at first, now hesitated—lacking confidence, perhaps. Worried rash acceptance might harm the family.
No helping it.
Time to lend a hand.
"Hey, Ralph."
"What...?"
Thwack!
"Huh?!"
Ralph stared at his own hand. His bare palm, glove removed.
Irrelevant to his intent.
I'd yanked off Ralph's glove and flung it at Easton's face.
If you're gonna stop midway...
Don't start at all.
Let's do this.
Easton cackled.
"Heh heh heh... No turning back now."
Ralph bluffed through gritted teeth.
"Who's scared?!"
I clapped from the side.
"Well done. Looking good."
Ralph's face was priceless. He started to snap at me but thrust a thumbs-up first.
"You're the best, Ralph. So cool!"
"You... you... you!!"
He swallowed his words, clenching his jaw and raising his fist.
"Yeah! Just follow my lead!"
That's the spirit!
Looking sharp, Ralph.
Easton sneered smugly at us.
North family members had gathered beside him by now.
"Then, time and place for the duel...!"
Clap!
"Everyone!"
"...?"
Easton's words cut short. He scowled.
Ignoring him, the party's host Ran Pador strode forward with a grin.
Thinking Ran would block it? Easton stepped up to intercept.
"Ran Pador, sorry, but we've accepted the duel—we can't stop now. You know that!"
Block it?
Ran Pador?
No chance. The Ran Pador I knew would pour oil on the fire.
If he'd wanted to stop it, he'd have acted sooner.
And sure enough...
"I know, but today is my birthday. If you duel here on your own, it'd put me in a tough spot. I don't want blood on my special day. But I can't stop a duel outright, so...!"
Ran stroked his chin playfully.
"How about settling it properly, in the right place?"
"Properly?"
Predictable.
An event from the past.
Closs making his flashy debut at Ran Pador's birthday party.
Ran was recreating it. Even back then, he'd subtly fanned the flames to make it happen.
His face lit with amusement.
Ran stepped forward, savoring the reactions.
"You'll need witnesses anyway. Everyone knows Pador is on good terms with both houses—neutral ground. Seeing the two families' heirs clash would make my birthday even more memorable. Shall we head to the stage?"
At Ran's call, butlers drew back the curtains.
Behind the banquet hall emerged...
"What is that?"
"A shield?"
...a massive circular arena shaped like a shield.
At its opposite ends floated rectangular shields in the air like banners.
Ran pointed to the arena with a sly grin.
"What do you think? Perfect for the young heirs of both houses to test their mettle, no?"
This was it—the Noble Shield Arena where Pador and North would collide.