Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Perfect Red Victory
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With two Red Team marks stolen, the remaining Red Team members—including the shadow knight—totaled nine at most.
Even if all of them successfully captured the Blue Team's base, we still held eleven marks.
Once base occupation was complete, scoring would be based primarily on the number of occupiers holding marks.
Unless the Red Team stole at least three Blue Team marks, they had no chance of victory.
Convinced of that fact, Mark flashed a smug grin.
"We're winning this no matter what."
His teammates nodded confidently at the cocky Mark.
"Let's push all the way to their base while we're at it."
"Y-yeah!"
"M-move it... Ahem, walk faster, Monica! Don't dawdle!"
Remembering belatedly that the Araneos' 'sharing' was broadcasting everything to the audience stands, Mark forced a smile as he urged Monica on.
Moving at top speed like that, Mark soon arrived in front of the Red Team's base.
Only two people stood before it: Dietrich and Mariella.
"What do we do about this? Can just two of them really stand against eleven?"
One of Dominic's flattering retainers smirked mockingly under a veneer of pity.
He said it in a loud voice, clearly for Leopoldt to hear.
As he opened the floodgates, another retainer nearby let out a derisive snort.
"Exactly. And that girl over there is the youngest participant, too."
"Makes sense. Standing there without forfeiting is commendable enough."
Giggling erupted frivolously among the retainers.
"Is this what Northern chivalry is—babbling nonsense about a brave child?!"
The chairman, unable to hold back any longer, spat out a chilling remark.
Vice Chairman Berben was the current duke's cousin and one of the most senior retainers, deeply trusted by the duke.
Those who met his gaze shrank back guiltily.
He scanned the surroundings with a displeased expression.
He'd silenced the loudmouths for now, but most of the audience already anticipated a Blue Team victory.
"This year's pretty boring..."
"As expected of the little duke's son..."
With two marks stolen, a reversal would require an extraordinary fight—but only two were holding off eleven attackers.
Some faces already looked deflated, predicting a dull outcome.
Leopoldt remained silent amid their mockery.
'Daddy, can I ask something that's been bothering me?'
He recalled Mariella's words from a few days before the match, asked while lying in bed with the blanket pulled up to her chin.
'What if... it's a friendly match...'
Her clever, sparkling eyes and the words she spoke so clearly.
As Leopoldt slowly mulled over those words, an Araneo's eye came into view.
Mark acted all leisurely, like he was eyeing captured prey.
His expression as he slowly dragged his wooden sword along the ground while staring at Dietrich and Mariella already screamed victor.
He'd lost to both siblings in their previous one-on-one, but he was certain today would be different.
Behind Mark stood his ten teammates.
Including the shadow knight Hans, all the kids from vassal families—none older than Mark—were Northern children.
Kids raised gripping swords from the moment their tongues could form words.
"If you're scared, you can forfeit now. Just like Saskia said earlier."
Emboldened by their overwhelming numbers, he joked around, and laughter exploded from the kids behind him in unison.
Everyone was brimming with high spirits before such absolute superiority.
Dietrich, blocking their path, let out a short yawn before responding in a relaxed voice.
"So much talk for dragging this out against just two?"
Before Mark could retort, Dietrich's lip curled in a sneer.
"Scared?"
"What?"
"Pick up your sword, Mark. You've never beaten me in sword training, have you?"
"That's because I—!"
"I said pick up your sword properly. Or should I attack first?"
Mark's face flushed beet red in an instant, visible even beyond the scoreboard.
Mark's eyes scanned the situation.
Mariella behind him held a wooden sword too, but she was too young to have received proper training.
So, the only real threat was Dietrich.
No matter how strong Dietrich was...
Having sorted his thoughts, Mark signaled his teammates with his eyes.
The Northern vassal kids raised their wooden swords in unison at their leader's cue.
"I was gonna go easy, but guess not. Wanna try it? Beg nicely now and I might still—"
"No thanks."
"This brat!"
Dietrich snorted playfully, and Mark, unable to contain his rage, swung his wooden sword fiercely.
It was a full-force swing, but Dietrich deflected it effortlessly.
Then, he spun his sword to precisely stomp Mark's ankle and topple him.
Had the Blue Team's shadow knight not intervened to block Dietrich's strike, Mark would've embarrassingly dropped to his knees right there.
The shadow knight didn't stop at protecting Mark—he raised his wooden sword overhead at Dietrich.
"Didi, above!"
Hearing Mariella's shout, Dietrich twisted his body instinctively without even looking up.
As he dodged sideways by pivoting his shoulder, an apprentice knight's sword slammed down fiercely where he'd been, while another vassal kid's blade doggedly pursued him.
That's what absolute numerical superiority meant.
The apprentice knight who finally snagged the narrowly dodging Dietrich grinned.
"Wait—!"
Mariella's cry was buried as the shadow knight hurled Dietrich to the ground with a thud.
Mark swung at Dietrich's wrist, which had momentarily released the sword from the impact.
Dietrich barely dodged, rolling on the ground without even his wooden sword.
"Oh dear. Sorry about that, brother."
Dominic, watching via the Araneos' shared vision, feigned a wince as he apologized.
His apologetic tone dripped with amusement.
Dietrich could only crawl and drag his legs to evade amid the onslaught from being thrown down.
Dominic gazed down at him appreciatively before lowering his voice.
"You should surrender now. Victory isn't won by stubbornness alone."
Leopoldt didn't respond.
Before he could pick a suitable reply, Mariella—who'd been dodging here and there while gauging the timing—stopped dead and flashed a smile.
He hated to admit it, but his young daughter's grin resembled that of the North's master, Duke Kalenberg.
Wearing that expression, Mariella bellowed at the top of her lungs.
"Zeke! Burn 'em all down, Perry!"
Burn? What? Who's Perry?
Murmurs swelled in the stands at those words, and simultaneously, flames began flickering over the Red Team's base.
Leopoldt's daughter had surely asked that.
'What if... it's a friendly match... can I use Divine Grace?'
The scene of seven massive flames shooting up and swiftly engulfing the wooden hut overlaid that memory.
Red Team Base Ablaze
"Wh-what?! Who set the fire?!"
Mark shrieked in horror.
Mariella beamed radiantly as the flames danced across his shocked face.
"Now Mark's team has no base left to capture?"
At that moment, someone in the stands pointed at the rightmost of the mother Araneo's dozens of eyes.
"L-look over there!"
Gazes snapped toward it instantly.
Six Red Team kids were occupying the undefended Blue Team base.
Lavinia from the Palenberg marquis family grunted as she reached up with her brother Lucas's help and yanked down the blue flag planted atop the base.
Blue Team: 11 members—base burned, occupation failed.
Red Team: 6 members—enemy base occupied successfully.
It was a flawless, perfect Red Team victory.