The Blood Must Flow Calculatedly
Are you alright, Your Highness?
Bianca was the first to recover her senses.
Just moments ago she had been the one shouting the verdict of victory, now she was neither a mediator in the duel nor the daughter of a noble family.
She was simply a person stunned by the prince before her, splattered with blood.
Bianca approached Ruang with careful steps.
The closer she got, the clearer his condition became.
His face was soaked in blood.
Not sweat. Blood.
Thick, tangled crimson dripped from his jawline and had even streaked across his eye sockets.
But the real problem wasn’t the blood—it was his eyes.
They looked as though they were bleeding red.
Bianca stopped walking the instant she saw them, her feet rooted in place.
The duel arena flashed back into her mind.
The sight of him running forward with nothing but his fists after his sword had shattered.
The way he had hoisted that opponent into the air like a beast and slammed him to the ground.
The brutal, savage chaos that had erupted. The violence, the raw brutality. If anything, it had grown even more savage and merciless in its effort not to kill.
Now she understood why the nobles had roared with such enthusiasm.
Because it had been breathtakingly beautiful.
Too dangerous. Too thrilling. She had been unable to tear her eyes away.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Ruang answered calmly.
“Bones are already starting to knit back together.”
Bianca’s eyebrows twitched.
“You’re saying that as if it’s fine right now?”
“If it’s fine, then I’m fine.”
Ruang was still perfectly upright.
His fight had never been uncontrollable rage.
Blood, anger, the savage brawl—all of it had been calculated.
The best part? The opponent had been a knight.
A human with solid endurance.
If he had been a commoner, one of them would have died.
Of course, not Ruang—but the opponent.
That was the moment.
“Ruang-sama!!!”
Someone came sprinting straight toward them from behind Bianca.
It was Angela.
Without hesitation she threw herself into Ruang’s arms.
It wasn’t an embrace. It was more like she rammed into him, diving headfirst.
Ruang blinked one eye.
Angela’s mind had completely flipped.
Whenever she watched romance fantasy, the scene always followed the same pattern.
The male leads would clash swords, mana would explode, tension would thicken, and then the heroine would rush in, sobbing, to stop them.
But Angela had actually lived through it.
And her conclusion was brutally simple.
I can’t handle this.
During that duel, when Ruang had moved at top speed, she had lost track of his body.
When the sword qi had collided and the explosion had rattled the air, her heart had stopped.
And when they finally dropped their weapons and crashed into each other, all she had wanted to do was run over and pull them apart.
Her head had known what to do.
But her body hadn’t moved.
Man and man.
Two males colliding with pride and instinct at their peak.
Too hot. One wrong move and both would burn together.
Only now did Angela realize it.
People went mad when they faced this every single day.
Imagining that their husbands might die every day. How could anyone keep breathing normally?
“Your Highness, I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
Angela’s voice shook.
She clung tighter to Ruang and looked up at him.
“Are you truly alright?”
“Nothing major.”
“Nothing major?!
Angela’s voice spiked higher.
“You lost so much blood and you’re telling me there’s no problem?!”
She reached out with trembling hands to check him.
The God’s Blessing was slowly healing Ruang’s body, yet the blood-soaked reality hadn’t vanished.
The wounds were closing, but the blood remained.
It was far too wet.
Angela hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief.
“Just a moment, just a moment… I’ll wipe it.”
But her hand shook too violently.
The corner of the handkerchief kept wavering in the air instead of brushing his face.
In the end, Bianca sighed and said, “Angela, a handkerchief won’t do.”
“Ah, I know…”
“I’ll do it.”
Bianca took the cloth from a servant and gently wiped Ruang’s face.
Angela stood beside her, clutching the same handkerchief and trembling uncontrollably.
One was startled yet her touch was precise.
The other was terrified yet she never let go of his hand.
Ruang looked at both women alternately, then quietly accepted Bianca’s care.
“There. I’ve wiped it all.”
Bianca finished by wiping the last traces of blood from Ruang’s jaw.
“Now, Your Highness can declare victory yourself.”
“Alright.”
Ruang nodded slowly.
He ascended the dais with measured steps.
The moment he reached the top, every noble’s gaze locked onto him.
Some still wore excited expressions.
Others looked drunk and exhilarated.
All of them were still reeling from the aftermath of the duel.
The blood-soaked prince.
The madman who had won by dropping his sword and fighting with his body.
Yet the victor.
Ruang stood on the dais and surveyed the crowd.
The air that had been boiling moments ago fell into an almost eerie silence.
And he spoke.
“There are no ill feelings toward the two of you who challenged me today.”
The nobles were surprised at the first words.
Usually the victor would boast about his heroism.
His strength in defeating the opponent, the willpower that endured the blood, the divine protection that had carried him.
But Ruang started by praising his opponents.
“The passion you two have for love is truly admirable.”
A ripple of surprise swept through the crowd.
Ruang continued calmly.
“Drawing a sword for the sake of love is no easy thing.
You must stake your honor, your name, and even be prepared to lose.”
His gaze flicked briefly toward Patrick, then moved to the recovering Guyen.
But.
A short silence fell.
Every noble swallowed hard.
“In the end, the gods granted me victory.”
The tension thickened again.
Ruang scanned the surroundings with his still bloodstained face.
“Does anyone object?”
No one spoke.
If anyone truly objected, they should have challenged him again after the duel, not in the middle of this celebration.
Besides, no one had the audacity to stand up and say “I want to fight too” right after witnessing that fight.
The nobles fell silent.
Ruang confirmed the quiet, then lifted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.
“Then, right here and now, I declare it.”
He extended his hand.
The tip of his finger pointed at Angela.
Angela swallowed hard.
“Angela’s love.”
He paused for a heartbeat.
“Is entirely mine.”
The moment the declaration fell, the nobles erupted into applause.
Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.
At first it was polite.
But soon the heat of it grew.
A blessing for the victor.
Admiration for the good fight shown.
Cheers for the completion of the thrilling story they had just witnessed.
Angela’s face flushed red.
Bianca sighed beside her.
She said that so publicly.
In noble society, love was usually whispered about or hidden.
Never declared on the dais right after spilling blood.
Yet Ruang had done it.
He had entered the duel, won it, and proven himself stronger for it.
That made it even more striking.
By openly declaring his love before so many people, he had shown just how powerful he was.
And with blood still splattered across him, declaring his love made him look even more insane.
His body had been wiped clean, but the image of him drenched in blood remained burned deep into everyone’s minds.
******
After the duel ended.
The noise had quieted a little, and the nobles were beginning to chatter about today’s fight.
Manuel came looking for Ruang.
He first drew Angela and Bianca aside.
“You two can step away for a moment.”
Angela hesitated, but Bianca quietly grabbed her wrist.
“Come on.
Brother and brother have something to talk about right now.”
Once the two women had moved away, Manuel finally looked at Ruang properly.
The faint scent of blood still lingered.
“Is there a problem with the marriage to the Lady of Rosefield?”
Ruang blinked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You went that far just for your mistress, didn’t you?”
Manuel said it bluntly.
“This duel was intense enough that the nobles all supported it.
That means the rumor about your love for Angela has spread far and wide.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Nobles arranged political marriages for bloodlines,
but kept mistresses for love.
Those two things had to stay separate.
Yet some foolish nobles couldn’t do that.
Mad with love, they didn’t produce heirs, poured all their wealth on their lovers, and threw away their honor.
And Ruang was exactly the kind of person they could exploit.
Why?
Because he was a mad prince.
“We already discussed the engagement.”
Ruang answered lightly.
“There’s no reason I’d stir up trouble for that kind of reason.”
“Then what were you thinking when you let the duel get this intense?”
Manuel’s voice was calm.
It felt like the first time in a long time he had talked at length with his brother.
It wasn’t the kind of conversation he had expected, but Manuel thought it had gone well.
He simply hadn’t had many chances to see exactly what kind of person his brother had become after going mad.
Ruang shrugged.
“I thought it was a good chance to show the outside world that our clash was accelerating.”
“Hmm… tell me more.”
Manuel narrowed his eyes.
Ruang didn’t hesitate at all.
“Guyen trying to save Patrick looked like he was acting out of friendship on the surface.
But what if people thought his brother had a hand in it?”
Manuel’s expression shifted imperceptibly.
“…Hmm.
So you’re saying I separated Angela and you in order to connect you only with Rosefield.”
“No, not at all.”
Ruang waved his hand.
“It’s not that gentle a plan.”
“What?”
“Brother, when my brother starts to calm down, you want to see blood so you can make him go mad again—right?”
Manuel stared at Ruang in silence for a moment.
He looked genuinely bewildered.
But Ruang didn’t back down.
He faced Manuel boldly, arrogantly.
“The connection with Angela isn’t important.”
Ruang said.
“The core is that you need to make it look like I’m trying to damage my brother’s reputation as a rival.”
“Why should I show that?”
“Because I’ve been too calm lately.”
Ruang spoke without a smile.
“It would look like you’re jealous because you don’t want to lose your power to a brother who suddenly got better.”
His own brother was trying to turn him into a villainous greedy noble in the most natural way possible.
Manuel was both stunned and intrigued.
“So?”
“I’ll show the nobles too.”
Ruang continued.
“Ruang does weird things and still builds a reputation.
Especially in martial matters.
That’s why you’re scheming to restrain me and planning this duel.
p>
Didn’t you give the money needed for the duel when it was held?”
Nobles in this world weren’t mere decorations.
They collected taxes because they protected people and enjoyed special privileges.
Manuel was strong too.
He carried imperial blood and enough mana to handle great magic.
But his body couldn’t fully support that power.
It was difficult to face an Imperial Guard Knight head-on.
Ruang, on the other hand, was different.
He kept clashing, kept dueling, kept spilling blood, and still won.
That would soon become fame.
And if he brought that fame with him to the Rosefield house?
Manuel finally understood what Ruang was getting at.
“You told the nobles I was leaving the northeast soon, right?”
“They all know that.”
Manuel nodded.
“You sent your people from your family there to stop my movements.”
“I’ll have to act as a secret agent for a while.”
“What’s a secret agent?”
“Something like a secret code.”
Ruang mumbled vaguely.
“Anyway, if I keep performing in the capital and recruiting talent, I could later take the place of the nobles already in the northeast, right?”
People flock to a noble with high fame.
Especially right now, when young nobles who have achieved great deeds but never received their own fiefs are everywhere.
Ruang would soon marry and head to Rosefield.
With few of his own people nearby, he would be very attractive.
If Ruang slowly built up his strength in the capital,
those nobles would later clash with the ones being driven out of the northeast.
So nobles who didn’t want political risk would rather unite quickly and push Ruang outside.
Manuel thought silently for a while.
And then asked.
“Are you planning on fighting again?”
Ruang smiled faintly.
“Well, I don’t avoid trouble that comes my way.”
The vague, hazy way he answered made Manuel chuckle softly.
“Do whatever you want.”
Ruang narrowed his eyes.
“But that’s fine?”
“I didn’t like heavy-handed nobles either.”
That was Manuel’s true feeling.
The scariest thing in war wasn’t a strong enemy.
It was incompetent allies.
He liked to soothe and hold the nobles in his arms because he had to, not because he enjoyed it.
But if Ruang took up the sword instead, there was no reason to stop him.
Ruang let out a small laugh.
“Wow, you’ll become a scary emperor.”
Manuel snorted.
“You only have to do it.”
The tension between the two brothers seemed to have eased just a little.
Because their family blood was thickest,
their appearances were different,
but their smiles right now looked almost identical.