Duel #3: The Rival's Shadow
The day of the decisive clash had finally arrived.
I never imagined I'd have to face a duel with nothing but swordsmanship.
Even now, the situation still left me stunned, but there was no turning back.
The idiot standing right in front of me, swinging his sword with a sneer of contempt, made that crystal clear.
"Still, I'm glad you're stepping up. I thought you'd use some excuse like getting injured during training and sit it out."
I hadn't overlooked that possibility, of course—his bluster gave everything away.
How best to relish his childish provocation?
A sword was a sword, and the provocation deserved a sword's reply.
"Have you ever heard that people only think at their own level, Forbes-senpai? Those who cheated on their partners tend to suspect the same if their partner is late, or so they say."
"...?"
No matter how foolish the man was, he had to understand what my words meant.
His face flushed crimson, twisted in rage—proof that my provocation had landed.
His stance pulsed with the urge to charge, but the duel hadn't begun.
The professor assigned to officiate hadn't yet entered the arena, nor had the witnesses—honestly, just spectators to me—come through.
"Whether you're my junior or from the Literary Division, I will show no mercy."
"Yes, yes. Of course. I have no intention of holding back as your senpai."
Between the meaningless exchange of provocations and counters...
The professor who would officiate today's duel finally stepped into the arena.
To ensure maximum fairness, he was someone unconnected to either Lucian or Forbes—a professor from the second-year Literary Division who taught swordsmanship.
Idran Professor immediately explained the rules the moment he entered.
An attack that deliberately aimed to severely injure the opponent meant immediate defeat.
If you continued attacking after clearly announcing your intention to surrender, it was still defeat.
If you announced surrender but then withdrew it, that too meant defeat.
There were other rules, of course, but these three were the most critical.
"Both of you are noble heirs who must uphold honor, so I won't elaborate further. Any objections or concerns?"
"None."
"None here either."
"Excellent. Then the official duel begins between second-year Forbes Eel von Crescent and first-year Lucian Theodore von Deodore."
The moment the professor stepped back, I assumed he would launch his opening move.
Unexpectedly, Forbes only took his stance and stood there watching me.
He'd put on quite the arrogant act, but given what he'd learned from Rie, he must have been wary.
He wouldn't charge in blindly like a brute.
Why was he sizing me up so carefully when he always fought like a fool?
The situation from the start was far from my prediction, and the urgency crept in.
Rie had deliberately left gaps to lure me in, but I was still far from that level.
How could I draw out Forbes?
In that moment of confusion...
Whoosh—!
Just as I hesitated, Forbes's blade shot straight for my side.
Thankfully, my eyes caught it at the last second, and I barely blocked it in time.
"...?"
Forbes's eyebrow twitched visibly.
It seemed he hadn't expected me to actually parry.
The grip on my hilt burned with pain.
He had the name of a Martial Division student—speed and power were no joke.
Compared to Rie, it was lacking, but the Rie I'd trained with always held back for me.
But the man before me now would use everything he had to take me down.
The heart's earnestness decided victory and defeat, they said.
I couldn't afford to be careless just because he was weaker than Rie.
Slash! Whoosh—!
I calmly repelled the thrusting and slashing strikes aimed at my face and neck.
I wasn't the main attacker; Forbes's foot hadn't moved even half a step.
He was trying to disrupt my vision to make me twist and lose balance for a killing blow.
Don't worry about what you can't see—block what's in front of you accurately.
Evade, evade, and if possible, counter.
Whispering that to myself, I parried the attack from another angle once more.
Forbes, unlike before, didn't pull back immediately. He went straight into a grappling contest.
Even if swordsmanship was his weak point, it wouldn't drag down his stamina.
Clenching my grip tight, I held on. Forbes's lips twitched.
"Swordsmanship isn't great, huh? It seems Rie must have worked hard."
"...?"
"The only thing you've got is decent blocking. I've seen enough now—let's see if you can handle real combat."
Thud—!
Forbes shoved me back hard, tightened his grip, and shifted his stance.
According to Rie's words, he was an utterly incompetent Martial Division student, but that was her standard alone.
If I faced him, I could become someone as skilled as Rie.
During my sword training with Rie, I hadn't managed to block any complex or difficult attacks.
My body had moved too sluggishly at first—there simply hadn't been time.
If Forbes used those irregular attacks well, it would put me at a severe disadvantage.
With only defense in my repertoire, even a brute or a rogue was no different from a massive foe.
'...Hmm?'
Then, something strange caught my eye.
He shifted his footing and body weight as if preparing a grand attack.
Gripping his sword with both hands, eyes locked on me, and the blade twisted slightly.
It was unmistakable— that was the sword technique I had modified and surrendered to Edwin.
Edwin, a High-ranking Knight, had spread it among other knights, naturally becoming its continuer.
But the people who knew him and me were aware that I'd had a major hand in it.
Forbes had likely learned the basics of that technique, and before me he was now demonstrating it, almost as if recreating it himself.
'I see it all now, you bastard. Your attack.'
It sounded like a ridiculously arrogant line, but the truth made it even funnier.
Any attack launched from that technique could be read.
The one I'd designed, perfected, and finished myself.
It was laid out before my eyes and stored in my mind—mathematical equations to some, the greatest scene from a movie to others.
Thud—!
Forbes's foot moved. His shoulder followed.
The attacking leg shot right, weight shifting to lure.
It was a side-swing feint after a thrust.
Complicated in execution, but the result was simple—a side attack.
Clang!!
"...?!"
I caught the flicker of surprise in his wide eyes.
I'd thought he'd simply guard against a plain thrust like I always did and miss the irregularity.
So he'd try to hammer down instead.
But when I blocked it so neatly, he seemed stunned.
He must have believed swinging that technique even a little would easily subdue me.
Honestly, I had considered the same.
The man publicly known as the one who perfected this technique—Edwin— was a High-ranking Knight who maintained perfect relationships with everyone.
He thought he'd learned the swordsmanship well, so an amateur like me would be easily toppled.
No exaggeration there.
Whoosh! Boom—!
Forbes's blade flew again for my shoulder.
But I didn't track the blade's tip. I only watched his feet.
He shifted his position in a weird rhythm, but nothing stood out.
That meant he was using the same old trick again.
I couldn't rush. I was still an amateur at offense.
Even after perfectly breaking his stance, I was only one hit away from landing.
To end it in one chance, I needed to shake him up more—make him desperate.
I waited for the moment of a big movement, big force, and a big mistake.
Clang! Boom! Crunch—!
Block, block, block.
I thought of Choco and Rie watching my back.
Rie standing there with a hot chocolate in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other.
If I lost here, I'd hand over not only Rie but also all the chocolates to that brute.
If I could just create one massive gap...
Even with this pathetic body of mine, I could still win.
Rie's attacks had already been drilled into my eyes and head long ago.
Whether I'd be able to follow them was doubtful, but with enough time, I could try.
"Hah... ha..."
Unexpectedly, a new problem arose.
This idiot had attacked a few times, then started panting hard, clearly exhausted.
I was still the amateur who had to block his attacks to create gaps and buy time for a counter.
But if Forbes was this worn out and stopped attacking entirely, I would be in deep trouble.
Moreover, how could a Martial Division student tire out so quickly compared to a Literary Division student?
Swordsmanship might be talent, but stamina was effort, they said.
Seeing Forbes like this made me finally understand why Rie had scolded that brute so harshly.
Talent and skill were secondary; he'd simply lacked the effort from the beginning.
'...If he's tired, I'll hit him with a bigger attack. Make him overextend.'
All that remained was to provoke him into a reckless charge before he could see through my moves.
Provocation was required, of course.
Even if it was Forbes, even if he was a brute.
He wouldn't be so foolish as to charge after a obvious taunt.
He knew his own exhaustion best—why would he try to seize the initiative again?
- When do people go crazy the most?
Suddenly, the words of some old man who'd fallen for a fishing scam came to mind.
- When facing someone you think is stronger or better, in a desperate situation, most react coldly. You've already anticipated everything. You thought you couldn't win. But when someone worse than you holds out longer than expected, you start wondering if you can even break them.
People snap at that point. Eyes roll back, they can't tell front from back, and they only push forward. That's why Pirrot lost and Lebechia won.
From Forbes's perspective, I was an unkillable idiot.
No matter how much help I got from Rie, without talent or skill, what could I do?
Yet this idiot had blocked every single one of my attacks from start to finish.
Even while he himself was already panting from exhaustion, I was still full of energy.
I might actually lose this in front of the students, to my underclassman the real gem of a swordsman!
It was unavoidable.
"Senior Forbes, you're a Martial Division student, right? We're dueling Literary Division, aren't we? My friends attacked way more fiercely than this."
"You, you..."
"Hey, Rie is watching."
That was the signal.
Forbes's lips curved into a smirk, then he clenched his sword hilt and launched himself forward.
The stance he took the moment he lunged came into view instantly.
Exactly as I wanted— a powerful attack, but with even greater backlash.
Crunch—.
I gripped my hilt so hard it felt like it might snap.
After learning from so many knights, I'd swung it however I could, but the form still didn't look right. Honestly, I was still worried whether I could swing it properly now.
At the same time, a strange certainty filled me.
Right now, I wasn't thinking about improving my swordsmanship.
I just wanted to crush this brute.
That certainty burned strongly.
Boom!!