The Prince Who Refuses to Stay Down
The mansion of Tornara Barony glowed far brighter that evening than it had during the day.
The garden, corridors, guest wing, main residence, and hastily erected grandstands were all bathed in light.
It was thanks to the mana stones that had been lavishly replaced.
The problem was that the more beautiful the light, the blacker the stomach of Baron Tornara became.
The price of the mana stones.
The cost of keeping a magician pinned down through the night.
The price of feeding and entertaining nobles.
The price of making servants work harder, of strengthening guards, and of resurfacing the training ground.
His pockets were already empty, the floor having been drilled through long ago and the basement long since flooded with gold.
Still, the banquet could not be stopped.
Nobles were a class that had to entertain guests even if it meant going into debt.
Fortunately, he had a lifeline to pull him out.
“Your Highness! Thank you so much!”
Baron Tornara bowed at the waist with a face that was brighter than expected.
Before him, Manuel waved his hand calmly.
“It’s nothing special. It’s an imperial matter, after all. I had to look into it.”
“Y-yes, it is an imperial matter.”
The baron quickly nodded his head.
The reason his face was not quite as pale was simple.
Manuel had paid a large portion of the costs in advance.
Normally, today the baron would have been found somewhere in the estate clutching a pouch of gold coins and sobbing.
Thanks to the first prince stepping in, he was barely standing on his feet.
Manuel stared at the dueling arena in the distance and said,
“I don’t know what my brother is thinking, but…”
At the end of his gaze stood Ruang, slowly walking around the center of the arena.
“Still, I think he had his own reasons.”
The baron quickly agreed.
“Yes, haha. His Highness Ruang is extremely clever, so he must have his own calculations.”
That was what he said on the surface.
But inside, he screamed silently.
Please, just not my estate.
Manuel guessed the baron’s inner turmoil without needing to say it aloud.
The baron was not a man who would drive a knife in someone’s back out of malice.
He was the type who would treat people kindly and remain loyal.
More important than that, today’s duel mattered.
If the light was insufficient, the duel would not be visible.
If the stands were too small, the nobles would grow irritable.
If the reception afterward was poor, complaints would outweigh cheers.
So Manuel’s involvement had been nothing but goodwill.
It had also been a move to preserve imperial dignity.
“Still, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”
At Manuel’s words, the baron forced a smile and replied.
“Of course, duels are rare. If it weren’t for my estate, I’d happily watch… Heh!”
His words flowed out smoothly until he suddenly noticed and covered his own surprise with a cough.
Manuel said nothing.
Such a mistake did not need to be pointed out.
He turned his gaze back to the arena.
Ruang stood there without a single piece of armor.
His upper body was light, his posture loose, yet an odd tension radiated from him.
In his hand was a sword, and he was even checking its balance by running his bare fingers along the edge.
What exactly is he thinking?
Manuel muttered to himself.
Ruang had been eccentric even before the assassination attempt drove him mad, ever since he was a child.
He had once lain on a dead tree branch for three hours pretending to catch a dragonfly,
or beaten rocks with his bare fists to harden his muscles.
Back then, at worst he had only injured himself.
But now it was different.
Now Ruang could drag others into his madness.
His influence had grown. His breath had grown. His name had grown.
Had he grown because he had matured and his influence had expanded?
Or was he deliberately widening his influence with such antics?
Manuel narrowed his eyes.
This duel will end with Ruang’s victory.
That was not just Manuel’s thought.
The surrounding nobles all saw it that way.
Originally, if Patrick had personally entered, the fight would have ended too quickly and everyone would have been disappointed.
But a champion knight from the Imperial Guard had appeared.
Even if defeat was inevitable,
the process would be intense.
That was why the atmosphere was highly charged.
Gaien slowly raised his longsword, armor clinking.
Just from that alone, the nobles felt certain.
Ah, so he’s fighting while giving His Highness Ruang some leeway.
Wearing armor meant he would endure.
And then he would lose at the right moment.
Manuel interpreted it the same way.
And Ruang will prove his strength one more time.
And at the same time he can suppress my faction’s people.
That was when
Bianca stepped out from the center of the arena.
*****
“Today, the love of Lady Angela will be decided through this duel.”
Bianca’s voice was clear and crisp.
Not even a tremor appeared, even before many nobles.
“With this love in mind, Prince Ruang of the Caesar family—”
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Short, dignified applause rang out.
Ruang lifted his chin slightly.
“Okay.”
Bianca looked toward the opposite side.
“Patrick of the Gandolfi family, and his champion, Sir Gaien Aldore.”
“Yes!”
Gaien answered loudly,
while Patrick stood rigid on the stands, revealing his presence.
“I am here as well.”
Angela added carefully.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Nobles did not cheer like commoners.
They clapped briefly, smiled, and sighed with low voices.
Under that decorum today lay something far more blatant—expectation.
After introducing everyone, Bianca looked at Ruang.
Is this really okay?
Ruang met her gaze calmly.
Trust me.
Aigoo, really.
Bianca cursed inwardly.
She could not scold a prince here, so she only glared with her eyes, but Ruang showed no reaction.
In the end, all Bianca could do was follow the set procedure.
“I pray that the divine blessing be upon both who accepted the duel.”
The air around them fell silent.
“Show me the courage to end the duel without taking a life and to part without lingering attachment afterward.”
Bianca tossed a silver coin high into the air.
The coin spun in the air.
Caught in the mana light, it glittered as it fell.
Ting!
At the sound of the small metal chime,
Ruang shot forward first.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Even trained noble eyes could barely follow.
The spot where he had been standing a moment ago was empty, and the next instant metal clashed before Gaien.
Ruang’s twin swords stabbed from all directions.
Gaien blocked every single one.
Armored Gaien was heavy and stable.
Longsword in both hands, he stepped forward and swung wide arcs.
Instantly Ruang deflected one blade with the other,
lowered his body near the ground, and dove under.
The remaining sword stabbed toward Gaien’s side.
Gaien twisted to avoid it, barely catching it by the hilt.
A short but high-level exchange.
Just that was enough to set the stands ablaze.
Ruang’s twin blades were fast and tenacious.
He steadily carved away space while Gaien made only the minimal movements necessary.
Looking at it, Ruang was more flamboyant.
Looking at it, Gaien was more steady.
“He’s going to win, isn’t he?”
“Maybe… it looks like the one who’s being pressed is Ruang, not Sir Gaien.”
“Still, if he swings like that, Ruang should tire first.”
The nobles muttered to themselves.
Everyone had leaned forward, eyes glued.
And then.
Ruang suddenly stepped back.
“This won’t end like this.”
Gaien’s eyes narrowed.
“Your Highness…”
He stepped forward, refusing to give him any opening.
But Ruang threw one of his swords to the ground.
Clang!
The blade scraped Gaien’s foot and instantly stopped his advance.
And the next scene was one no one had expected.
Puuk.
“Hic…!”
“Suicide?!”
Ruang drove the remaining sword straight into his own hand.
A short gasp erupted.
Bianca’s face turned deathly pale,
while Angela clamped a hand over her mouth.
Ruang pulled the sword out without changing his expression.
Blood poured over the blade, soaking it completely.
Yet.
The blood-soaked blade began to glow with an eerie light.
Ruang’s body had never been ordinary.
God’s Blessing that survived assassination, a body that would not break even when driven mad.
When the blood dripping from it began to shimmer like mana on the blade,
the knights’ eyes widened first.
“Mana…!”
“That blood…!”
“Sword qi!”
The nobles also understood late.
Sword qi was not just a glittering ornament.
It was a technique that made the sword itself more dangerous.
Normally only a knight who had honed his blade for a long time could wield it.
That was why it shocked them.
Applying blood did not create sword qi.
This meant Ruang’s body was abnormally special.
Gaien gritted his teeth and poured power into his sword.
Sword qi flared on his longsword too.
Instantly the atmosphere changed completely.
What had been a flashy duel now looked like a real fight for life.
Manuel stood up immediately.
“Lady Bianca!”
“Y-yes?”
“Shouldn’t we stop this duel? If something goes wrong—”
Before Manuel could finish, the two collided.
KWAAAAANG!!!
Sword qi and mana collided.
A thunderous boom rang out, light and shock flashing violently.
And the next instant,
both swords shattered at the same time.
Shards of metal scattered in every direction, glittering in the mana light.
Everyone was stunned.
How?
Before the question could even form in their minds, the duel’s nature changed completely.
Ruang charged straight at Gaien.
And.
He lifted him up and slammed him down.
KWANG!
The technique was so fast that some might have missed it with their eyes,
but this was different.
The armored knight spun once in midair and crashed to the ground.
The sound was loud, the scene clear.
It was an overwhelming blow no matter how you looked at it.
“Guh…”
Yet Gaien did not go down easily.
While Ruang’s arm was still clamped, he twisted and applied an arm drag.
It was the superhuman flexibility only possible for a knight.
“Heh…!”
“Uwaaaah?!”
This time Ruang flew all the way to the stands.
Even among the quiet nobles, screams finally escaped.
Too close. Too brutal. Most of all, too clear.
But Ruang folded his body in midair.
He tucked himself like a somersault and stopped right in front of the stands.
And he laughed.
While bleeding, he laughed.
It was not a normal human laugh.
Angela’s heart dropped when she saw it.
Scary.
But she could not look away.
Ruang rushed again and swung his arm toward Gaien’s neck.
Claw line.
Gaien, who had been barely standing and twisting, could not react in time.
Ruang’s arm slipped deep into the gap between helmet and armor and flipped him backward.
KUNG!
After knocking Gaien down, Ruang rolled in the same direction and slowly stood up.
His body was drenched in far more blood than expected.
He looked like a beast drunk on blood, sending a chill down viewers’ spines.
Conversely, Gaien remained relatively clean thanks to his armor.
He almost looked like a more honest knight.
Ruang asked, catching his breath,
“Still not giving up?”
Gaien panted heavily.
“Hic… hic… still… yes…”
At that moment, Patrick shot up from the stands.
“Gaien! I’m fine!”
Patrick had wanted to scream for surrender.
He did not want to watch his friend take that much damage.
But Gaien had not given up.
He could not let his knightly pride be used so carelessly.
So Patrick clenched his fists.
They collided again.
This time even harder.
Ruang favored strength over finesse—lifting and slamming his opponent in one motion.
Instead of calculation, madness.
It was as if he had given up delicate swordsmanship from too much blood loss and become an instinctive beast that throws and crushes.
Gaien blocked and countered with punches, elbows, and body strikes.
Concise and heavy, as befitting a knight.
But as time passed, it seemed Gaien was tiring.
The nobles gradually grew certain.
Ah, Sir Gaien is going to lose now.
Yet at that exact moment,
as Ruang reached out to grab and throw,
Gaien twisted his wrist and escaped.
And in an instant he flipped the stance.
Ruang beneath him.
Mount.
Angela thought it was truly over.
Her face turned deathly pale as she watched.
Her lips trembled.
Scary.
But worry came first.
“Prince Ruang…!”
The moment she whispered, KWANG!
“Kyah?!”
“He lowered his head too much…!”
Ruang slammed his own head into Gaien’s helmet with full force.
It was truly insane.
The helmet cracked under the impact and shattered completely.
Gaien’s bare face was exposed.
Blood flowed from his forehead.
His eyes wavered.
Yet Gaien did not retreat.
He staggered and regained his posture.
Ruang faced him with a face soaked in blood.
The distance between them shrank.
At a range close enough for breaths to mix,
they both lunged forward at the same time.
First, their fists collided.
Pak!
A sound like bones shattering.
First, they traded blows with each other.
And second.
Both struck the other’s jaw.
Puak!
The final blow sent brains rattling.
Both looked like they would fall.
Gaien’s knees buckled first.
Ruang staggered badly.
Everyone held their breath.
Would they fall?
How would the referee judge if both fell?
In that brief moment,
Ruang swayed once but held on.
“Hah… my head hurts.”
With those words, Bianca quickly announced,
“Winner—Prince Ruang Caesar!”
At that moment,
“WAAAAAHHH!!!”
The nobles forgot all decorum and cheered.
Decorum?
Dignity?
Those were long gone.
This was too intense,
too much blood,
too fierce,
and most of all, too clear.
Someone shouted hoarsely,
“It’s like an ancient gladiator contest!”
“I never thought I’d see another duel like this!”
“The blood of the empire that once slaughtered nomads is still alive!”
Everyone chattered in excitement.
The alchemist rushed over with a healing potion and ran to Gaien.
Is it true that in a gladiator fight one of them has to die…?
He muttered to himself as he checked Gaien’s condition.
Luckily he was still alive.
Breathing, pulse—present.
His face was bloodied and half-unconscious, but he was not dead.
In short, today’s ending was not a gladiator finish.
It was simply
a duel so stimulating that the nobles went mad with delight.
And Angela’s gaze, watching the scene,
moved from initial fear,
to worry,
from worry to excitement,
and from excitement to a heat that was hard to explain.