Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: As Expected, Acting Like a True Scoundrel (2)
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Just as Shiorin was about to ask about the divine plaque,
Rrrrrumble.
The imperial knight's sword began to hum fiercely.
And a beat later, sword aura coalesced along the imperial knight's blade.
The sword's resonance was unbroken, the sword aura clinging to it vivid and stable. His momentum was not just fierce—it was downright savage.
He had clearly been thoroughly provoked by the First Prince's taunt.
In stark contrast, Arwen looked almost pitiful.
She hadn't even manifested sword aura, let alone sword resonance. She simply stood there, sword dangling limply at her side.
To her father, she appeared perilously fragile.
Shiorin glared at the First Prince, the true instigator of this mess.
"If anything goes wrong because of this spar—"
"It won't."
Before the resentful words could finish, the First Prince cut in with an indifferent tone. He added that Arwen would absolutely never lose.
His voice carried an oddly unwavering certainty.
Shiorin's mood soured further.
How can he act so smug after turning the situation into this mess with his immature bravado?
But his anger didn't last long.
Right now, he needed to worry about his daughter's safety against the imperial knight, not rage.
Shiorin narrowed his eyes intently.
He was ready to halt the spar at the first sign of real danger to her.
A father could never bear to watch his daughter bleed.
But it was all unfounded worry. His alone.
"Lady Arwen has improved even further."
"She's reached a deeper realm than when we last saw her at Winter Castle."
Whispers from the Iron Lion Knights reached his ears. Their tones were as nonchalant as the First Prince's.
Not a single one seemed concerned for Arwen.
"He's already losing in momentum. Tsk."
Some even pitied the imperial knight.
What Shiorin had seen as venomous killing intent, the Iron Lions likened to a dog barking its head off with a wagging tail.
"Excluding Your Highness, Lady Arwen wields the second strongest presence in the delegation."
The Iron Lion Knights' vice-commander explained to Shiorin, who was rolling his eyes in confusion at the incomprehensible scene.
"Second? You mean Arwen is stronger than even Sir Erhim?"
"Unfortunately, I'm not the top."
Erhim gave a wry smile and shook his head. His gaze drifted toward the First Prince's personal knights behind him—the only ones in the delegation whose abilities and temperaments he hadn't fully gauged.
Erhim's words implied one of them surpassed even the vice-commander of the kingdom's elite Iron Lion Knights.
It was hard enough to believe that Arwen, a mere probationary knight two years ago, had grown stronger than him. But now there was another such figure in the delegation. Shiorin could scarcely accept it.
Yet regardless of his belief, events began unfolding exactly as the Iron Lions had described.
Sweat beaded on the forehead of the imperial knight, who had fully ramped up his aura. Arwen's face, meanwhile, showed no change from the start of the duel.
She suddenly turned her head.
Speak your desire.
Her lips seemed to say. And to that, the First Prince replied,
"Smash him thoroughly."
No mercy.
She gave a small nod and let her sword hang loose.
Step. Step.
As she advanced, the imperial knight involuntarily stepped back.
"Tch!"
Realizing his disgrace too late, the imperial knight gritted his teeth and regripped his sword.
"How dare a nameless knight like you—!"
He stomped forward powerfully and thrust his blade.
Shrieeek!
The sharp whistle of air accompanied the sword light slashing toward Arwen's throat.
Arwen evaded effortlessly, bending at the waist.
Scraaape.
From her bent posture, she swept her sword along the floor.
The startled imperial knight had no time to block and hopped away to dodge.
That was the beginning.
Arwen relentlessly targeted the imperial knight's lower body—stabbing at his instep like a hammer, swinging at his ankle as if to sever it.
Each time, the imperial knight desperately danced back on his toes.
"W-what the hell are you doing?!"
The legion commander bellowed. His face was flushed with fury.
He had no choice.
Anyone could see the imperial knight was being toyed with.
Scrape. Scrape.
With every flick of Arwen's sword, the imperial knight hopped about. To onlookers, he looked like a drunkard flailing in a clumsy dance.
"Is this how kingdom knights mock their opponents?!"
The legion commander branded her a dishonorable wretch who disrespected her foe's honor.
"The imperial knight needs more practice defending low attacks. Getting overwhelmed like that."
The First Prince responded with mockery.
"Hah!"
Mindful of the enraged legion commander, the imperial knight ignored Arwen's low sweep and brought his sword crashing down with full force.
It was a strike screaming his intent to split her skull, even if it cost him his legs.
"Arwen!"
Shiorin cried out in horror.
But unlike her startled father, Arwen remained utterly calm.
She neither dodged the descending blade nor retracted her thrust.
She merely twisted her wrist slightly, striking the imperial knight's lower body with the flat of her blade instead.
Thwack!
The imperial knight's body spun wildly in place from the solid hit to his legs.
Legs shot skyward, head toward the ground.
Even in that chaos, refusing to drop his sword and swinging it to the end was commendable—but a wayward blade only cleaved empty air.
As the imperial knight flipped upside down like a handstand, Arwen expressionlessly extended her foot.
Wham!
She kicked him squarely. His body tumbled across the floor with a crash.
No scream.
The knight who rolled to a stop lay limp and motionless. Imperial knights rushed over to check on their comrade.
They shook their heads.
Seeing this, the Iron Lions cheered.
"Ooh!"
The imperials fumed.
"What a disgrace!"
In the midst of this clash of emotions,
"No way that was your fortress's best knight, right?"
The First Prince poured oil on the fire again.
"I'll face you!"
"No! I'll do it!"
Several more fortress knights stepped up after that.
Among them was the senior knight de Gaulle, who had been waiting for a chance to redeem his earlier humiliation, and a Triple Chain knight counted among the fortress elite.
Yet none could defeat Arwen.
"Argh!"
The imperial knight who had spewed vulgarities at her ended up with a split lip. Another who underestimated her as "just a woman" had his arm nearly severed and collapsed.
Even the fifth, who approached seriously, couldn't block her sword and rolled away a bloody mess.
"Next!"
Arwen provocatively called for the next opponent with a stoic face.
The Iron Lions went wild. The imperials spat curses.
Shiorin stared blankly around him.
Was this truly a welcome for a national delegation? And was that woman at the center really his daughter?
"Next!"
Having dispatched the sixth in an instant, Arwen bellowed heartily.
Her flushed face bore a hazy smile.
She was a fish in water.
Imperial knights stepped forward to curb her momentum.
Seven, eight, nine times.
But they too offered up victories to her, tumbling to the floor.
"Next!"
Nine duels in, she showed no fatigue. Enraged by her majestic poise, the legion commander barked.
"Bring the Paladin."
The heated banquet hall froze.
Even Iron Lions ignorant of the imperial tongue clearly heard "Paladin" and stiffened.
It was only natural.
The Empire called its Quad Chain knights—the knights among knights—Paladins. It was akin to summoning a Silver Lion to a mere sword bout in the kingdom. To exaggerate, like an adult joining children's play.
It meant the legion commander's pride was deeply wounded, and he wouldn't end this duel in defeat.
"Arwen."
Then the First Prince intervened.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Arwen, steeling herself for the Paladin, turned at his voice.
"That's enough."
She bit her lip, looking frustrated.
But she didn't defy the prince's order.
Shing.
She sheathed her sword, glanced at the imperials, and returned to her seat.
"What is this—"
"This much entertainment is plenty."
As the legion commander nearly exploded, the First Prince said nonchalantly.
"Winning against an exhausted knight isn't all that honorable."
The legion commander fell silent, finally realizing the kingdom knight had fought ten bouts without rest. "Then how about other knights? Surely among Your Highness's guards, there's someone comparable to her."
Not willing to let it end, he coaxed the prince to continue.
"Entertainment should end as entertainment. Pushing further might sour relations."
After igniting and provoking the duel, his response was brazenly shameless.
The legion commander's face turned beet red, on the verge of erupting.
Then the First Prince clutched his chest.
A thoroughly unnatural, comical gesture.
Shiorin couldn't help but chuckle dryly at the obvious ploy.
Clink.
The divine plaque slipped from his pocket.
"Oops. What's this? Hope it's not broken."
The First Prince exaggeratedly lifted and inspected the plaque.
"W-what's that?"
"Didn't mean to show it off. How embarrassing."
His awkward delivery was painfully forced.
"Someone gave it to me when I said I'd visit the Empire."
He displayed the plaque emblazoned with the Montpellier name. His words and actions didn't match at all.
"They said with this, no one would dare ignore me. Unnecessary worry. Even as a royal from a small kingdom, I'm still royalty. As if anyone would slight me without such a plaque."
The legion commander shut his mouth.
"Preparations are nearly complete— he'll join shortly!"
At that moment, the knight dispatched to fetch the Paladin returned triumphantly.
The horrified legion commander gestured him over and whispered urgently.
The knight glanced puzzled between the commander and prince before leaving the hall again.
In the end, the Paladin never appeared before the banquet concluded.
As the lukewarm event wrapped up, even Shiorin could only laugh in disbelief.
From the moment he spotted the plaque, he'd pondered its use—how to wield it without tarnishing Leonberger honor or bruising the First Prince's pride.
All that worry proved pointless.
The First Prince blatantly milked the Montpellier name. He brandished the plaque so boldly it left onlookers flustered.
It was utterly beyond common sense, an unimaginable method.
But its effect was undeniable.
Infuriatingly effective.
His daughter's words—that no matter what he thought, she'd exceed it—must have foreseen this.
The First Prince's actions were shocking enough.
But the real shock was yet to come.
After the banquet, when Shiorin privately pleaded with him to curb such impulsive behavior going forward, he learned the truth.
"This is just the beginning."
The First Prince grinned and revealed his plans.
"But if you do that, Your Highness's reputation in the Empire—"
Shiorin was aghast, but the prince brushed it off.
"It's the same nonsense we dealt with back home. Why care in a foreign land?"
His expression somehow looked thrilled.
Like a horse let off the reins.
The annual visit from the Leonberger Kingdom's delegation was nothing new.
The inclusion of royalty was novel, but that was it. Only the Emperor and a few nobles paid attention to the minor border realm. No one else cared.
Left alone, they would come and go unnoticed.
Yet lately, rumors swirled around the delegation.
"He loves flaunting his knights' prowess."
"Proposes duels with knights at every noble house he visits? What an immature fool. Doesn't even consider his kingdom's position."
Most gossip centered on the bizarre antics of Leonberger's heir.
A clueless royal obsessed with showing off his knights, ignoring his kingdom's stance to feed his vanity.
A scoundrel prince stirring trouble everywhere with knightly duels.
"A small nation with nothing else to boast. And even that pales against the Empire."
Imperial nobles mocked the prince's petty bravado and pride.
They were certain it would shatter against the Empire's might.
But they were wrong.
The rumors grew ominous.
Fortress knights routed one after another by a single knight from the prince's side.
The Empire's 97th Knight Order—all defeated.
Even the famed sword tiger of the borderlands crushed.
Kingdom knights, presumed far inferior, were racking up victories against imperial ones.
"Tsk. All brawn until now—turns out they were just blusterers."
"No one challenges the Empire, so they've rusted."
Nobles clicked their tongues at the imperial knights' pathetic showing.
"How long must we watch this kingdom prince rampage in the Empire?"
"Humoring him has limits. Do the border nobles even realize they're great Burgundy nobles?"
They cursed the frontier nobles indulging the childish prince's games.
"Count Anju's knights were all smashed."
But even they couldn't just sneer when news hit that the renowned eastern lord, Count Anju, had been humiliated by the delegation's knights.
Soon after, astonishing news reached noble ears.
"They say Marquis Montpellier backs the First Prince. Even gave him their family plaque."
One of the Empire's rare marquises publicly sponsoring him.
"Montpellier's using this puppet prince to devour the kingdom whole."
"That's exactly his style."
They saw it as part of Montpellier's scheme to swallow the kingdom.
Thus, imperial nobles and knights had merely saved face appropriately.
"It won't last."
"Their next stop is Marquis Ib Saint's domain, after all."
They believed the farce would end soon.
Marquis Ib Saint's house—one of the delegation's stops—held power enough to ignore even Montpellier. They commanded two Paladins, making them Empire heavyweights.
Soon word came: the delegation had arrived at Marquis Ib Saint's.
Imperial nobles anticipated the satisfying comeuppance.
Days later, news of duels between the delegation knights and the marquisate's.
But the details were the polar opposite of expectations.
"What? Marquis Ib Saint's Paladins lost?"
"Did the kingdom send Silver Lions?!"
Nobles were aghast.
"Impossible. Even against kingdom Silver Lions, Paladins shouldn't lose."
It was common knowledge among imperial nobles that kingdom Silver Lions lagged behind imperial Paladins.
For imperial Paladins to fall to kingdom Silver Lions was unacceptable to their prideful sensibilities.
But the real shocker was worse.
"What? No Silver Lions on the delegation roster?"
Not even kingdom elites—and still two Paladins defeated.
Absurd to imperial nobles.
"Then who the hell beat two imperial Paladins?!"
This marked the moment when some imperial nobles began seriously tracking the delegation's members and movements.
Including imperial princes.
"Has Montpellier gone mad?"
Some princes cursed the marquis for empowering the foolhardy prince.
"We must show him the Empire's might to uphold our dignity."
Others demanded fitting punishment for the rampaging prince.
"An interesting fellow."
Yet others took interest in Leonberger's prince, backed by Montpellier.
"Prepare to depart."
A few even left the capital to meet him.
This was three months after the Leonberger delegation entered the Empire.
Around the time imperial princes began moving to meet the First Prince, Marquis Montpellier stared at the stack of documents before him in a daze.
Emergency missives via rapid relay—all uniform protests.
Flash.
His crystal orb lit up. He reflexively touched it.
From the other side came the voice of one of the Empire's top nobles.
『It's Marquis Ib Saint.』
No trace of goodwill in the greeting.
『The reason I've resorted to the emergency network is...』
Montpellier involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut.
What the hell has he been doing there?!