Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Demonstration Spar
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“Demonstration spar…?”
Irina looked at Lea with suspicious eyes.
The First Imperial Princess then casually stirred her teacup, as if it meant nothing.
“Yeah. I wanted to check out your knight order’s skills while we’re at it.”
Soon the teabag in her cup rose up.
Lea fished it out and dropped it indifferently onto the saucer.
“You’re not planning to back out in front of everyone, are you?”
Lydia chimed in.
She too seemed to agree with Lea, flashing a sly look in her eyes.
“…”
Irina did not readily accept their suggestion.
Instead, she turned a serious gaze toward her own guard.
Allen Mitrov.
The wastrel son of a count’s family who wielded dual swords.
His skills were outstanding by nature, but his rotten personality meant no group would take him.
Even Lea, who prized ability above all else, had ultimately given up on him.
“Allen, what do you want to do?”
Irina did not force her subordinate’s hand.
A win would be a fine chance to promote her knight order…
But a loss would utterly destroy the image she had carefully built for it.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. We’re just guests today, after all.”
Allen tilted his chin up to sweep back his bangs.
He then shot an arrogant glare at the First Imperial Princess.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Plenty of distinguished guests here anyway.”
A cold, ruthless gaze fixed on Lea.
Yet she spared Allen not even a glance.
Just like she would never bother with a toy she had once discarded.
At that sight, Allen ground his teeth.
He looked ready to charge straight down to the stage, burning to take revenge on the woman who had dismissed him.
“Hang on, Allen.”
Irina caught hold of him.
She offered advice with earnest eyes.
“Don’t push yourself too hard. Forfeit right away if you feel like you might get hurt.”
Those green eyes, filled with concern for him.
The knight furrowed his brows at the sight.
“Surely you don’t think I’ll lose too, Second Princess?”
“That’s not the point. Win or lose, you’re the one who’ll get hurt. And there’s no reward for it.”
The wastrel son of a count brushed off Irina’s hand without a care.
As he descended the stairs, he declared firmly.
“I’ve got one.”
Allen passed through the VIP seats and headed for the stage.
I watched the scene in silence.
―――.
Allen’s military boots crushed the scattered snowflakes.
Before long, the two knights stood side by side on the stage.
“What are you?”
“Your sparring partner.”
Allen roughly swept back the bangs hanging down to his eyes as he spoke.
Batsu creased his brow at the arrogant display.
“A spar…?”
“Yeah. The princesses weren’t satisfied with your pansy-ass martial prowess.”
True to form as a wastrel, his words scratched at his opponent.
He soon drew his dual swords from their sheaths and glared at Batsu.
“So I figured I’d put on a little show.”
Batsu glanced up at the imperial seats on the second floor.
His eyes soon met Lydia’s.
The youngest princess flashed an eye smile, as if to say, humor the guy a bit.
Batsu responded with a light bow of his head.
“What’s this, a spar?”
The VIPs, still entranced from the sword dance.
They turned their attention to the stage as one.
The Sacred of the East.
The wastrel of a famed house.
A rare clash between two luminaries.
The VIPs, utterly captivated, wore expressions of keen interest.
“Looks like a demonstration match, milord.”
The prime minister nodded approvingly at the lineup.
“This is our chance to see just how far the princesses’ knight orders have come.”
The empire’s foremost elder.
The emperor’s closest confidant.
A sudden spar unfolding right before his eyes…
‘This has to be someone’s handiwork.’
I glanced up toward the imperial seats.
My gaze happened to pause before the First Imperial Princess.
She looked just like someone analyzing the matchup between the two.
Moreover, the knights she had brought along were armed far too heavily for mere escorts.
‘The First Imperial Princess.’
Batsu and Allen represented the peak strength of the two princesses’ forces.
The plan was to jump in one after the other once they wore each other down.
‘Going for the empty house raid.’
I turned my head away impassively.
For the moment, all I could do was watch.
―――.
A majestic blast of horn.
In the brief time I pondered, the spar had already begun.
A full head’s difference in their heights.
Yet Allen, true to wastrel form, showed no fear whatsoever.
Grinning all the while, he generously ceded distance to the seemingly sluggish Batsu.
“I’ll yield the first move. Go ahead and swing away.”
But Batsu didn’t so much as twitch at his words.
He simply stared down at Allen with murderous eyes.
“The Sacred of the East, huh? Just a lumbering idiot after all?”
Bored, the wastrel spun his sword idly in one hand.
“I don’t fight for entertainment like you.”
Dark shadows hung beneath Batsu’s eyes.
From within them, jet-black pupils bored into Allen.
“I fight solely for my princess.”
For his princess.
The words drilled into Allen’s ears.
He, after all, had been discarded by Lea.
To declare before such a wastrel that he fought for his princess.
Perhaps the real taunt…
“Bullshit.”
…came not from Allen, but from Batsu.
The instant his words ended.
The wastrel lunged at Batsu with freakishly swift footwork.
Allen closed to such point-blank range that swinging a spear would be impossible.
He thrust both swords toward Batsu’s thick neck.
Kaaang―――!!!
But Batsu parried with his iron rod.
With overwhelming force, he shoved back the dual swords locked against it.
“Kruk…!”
The staggering swordsman.
Distance opened, and a spear came stabbing straight down atop his head.
‘That one’s dangerous.’
Kwaaang――!!
Pale smoke billowed up from the floor.
As it cleared, the prone form of Allen came into view.
Comically, he had spread his legs wide to barely evade the plunging spear.
The VIPs, who had watched in tense silence, erupted into guffaws.
“What a pathetic dodge.”
“Wastrel through and through.”
Yet amid their sea of laughter, I maintained my blank expression.
Allen’s tumble made perfect sense.
No—rather, it was the smart play.
Unsightly as it looked, falling was the only way to dodge that blow.
Exceptional reflexes.
Coupled with the ability to sense hostility.
He had seemed like a fool at first glance, but now I could grasp why Irina had chosen him.
“Ha… alright, that’s more like it. Should’ve come at me like that from the start.”
Allen hauled himself up, staggering.
Wastrel to the core, he grinned even in this disadvantage.
“Better than prancing around all high-and-mighty for your princess every damn day…”
He began twirling his dual swords once more.
“A real fight like this is way more fun!”
His pupils dilated like a beast’s.
Shoving them toward Batsu, he charged.
“Foolish bastard…”
Batsu gripped his spear tight anew.
He targeted the legs of Allen, who barreled in so recklessly.
Like snaring a nimble fish, he hoisted the spear high.
Then whipped it down savagely, as if cleaving a trench.
But Allen, seething with rage, did not dodge.
His mind stuffed full of vengeance, he vaulted over Batsu’s spear on pure instinct.
Landing, he went straight for the opponent’s throat.
Death’s edge closing before his eyes.
The spear knight bellowed as he poured all his mana into his arm.
Kaaang―――!!
He barely caught Allen’s dual swords.
But…
Allen curled his lip, as if he had foreseen it all.
He slid the locked blades right down.
With a vicious scrape, they raked along the rod.
Toward Batsu’s hand clutching it.
The spear knight clocked the intent.
Too late, though.
A thin gash now marred the back of his hand.
“You wastrel piece of shit…!”
Allen, victory assured.
He meant to break away the instant he sliced the hand.
But the spear knight clung to his weapon through the crashing pain.
With inhuman focus, he smashed the rod down onto his foe.
Kwaaang―――!!
Pale smoke surged skyward.
As it thinned, Allen’s body, slammed into the floor, lay exposed to all eyes.
“That’s it, Batsu! Exactly!”
Lydia cried out triumphantly, fists clenched.
Yet Irina showed no panic at her fallen knight.
Confident eyes fixed steadfastly upon him.
“Haa… not bad, huh? Figured a little blood would rattle you…”
Allen rose once more.
The wastrel, coated head to toe in pale ash.
His lips still quirked upward, though.
“You gonna keep fighting with that hand?”
He smirked at Batsu’s mangled knuckles.
“How about dropping the princess crap and taking care of your own body first?”
Body battered to hell, yet the taunts kept coming.
Batsu, though, acted like he hadn’t heard a word.
Answering the provocation with a smile of his own.
“Worried about a discarded mongrel like me?”
The spear knight soon tore a strip from his cloak.
He bound his arm securely.
“No need.”
Batsu’s black eyes blazed.
With them, he declared.
“I’m not like you.”
‘Discarded dog.’
Plain as day, it meant himself in the here and now.
Allen’s eyes twitched beneath.
He raised his dual swords once more.
No more testing the waters.
No more facades—he charged the Sacred of the East for real.
“This time I’ll rip that damn mouth of yours too!”
Batsu held his ground.
Blood streaming from his hand, he clenched it tight and met the wastrel head-on.
The two men’s mana surged high enough to reach the VIP seats.
“Kyaaak!”
Mana shards flew wild, punching through the ladies’ tables.
Tables shredded every which way.
In no time, the VIP area dissolved into pandemonium as guests fled.
‘What the… where are the soldiers? No one stopping them?’
I scanned my surroundings calmly.
No soldiers moved to restrain the overheated pair, however.
They merely stared in panicked confusion.
From the start, these two knights were imperial sacreds.
Far beyond what mere guards could handle.
‘Damn…’
Things were getting dicey.
Incidents too big for soldiers fell to the defense knights, as a rule.
Even as a guest, I was one of them.
Should any highborn get hurt amid this mess…
The blame would fall squarely on me and the senior knight who stood by.
Allen and Batsu had their princesses to cover for them.
I turned to Miya, a fellow defense knight.
She had risen and was ordering the guards to call for backup.
But the guard station lay in the capital’s northern district.
It would take ages to reach the eastern palace.
‘Should’ve taken a frontier post instead of capital defense.’
I let out a deep sigh and shrugged off my uniform jacket.
Rising from my seat, I headed for the stage.
Kwaaaang――!!
A ferocious blast rocked the stage.
White smoke shot up alongside the explosion.
The two knights’ forms vanished completely into the haze.
The world blurred into fog, visibility near zero.
Deep in that mist, the pair still faced off.
They halted their clash soon enough, though.
Someone was slowly approaching through the pale dust.
“Enough. Cut it out right here.”
I coughed, scowling.
I drew near the two guards and beckoned.
“Both of you went way overboard for a spar.”
The wastrel’s dual swords, steeped in madness.
The Sacred of the East’s spear.
Stepping between them, I pulled out my defense knight’s notebook.
I flashed the violation notice at them.
“This is a law violation, you two. You could get arrested for it.”
Damage to an imperial structure.
Threat to civilians.
Reckless mana discharge in a public space.
The paper brimmed with their infractions.
“Law violation…?”
They gawked at the notice, utterly dumbfounded.
To men raised their whole lives in the imperial fold, the law was an alien concept.