Chapter 26 - The Dignity of the Grand Duchess
Is it because of their age? The students at the Academy had a tendency to chase not just fun, but topics that matched it. Usually, that meant romance.
'Of course. This is a romance fantasy world, after all.'
Some count's son courting a baron's daughter at a ball and getting shot down cold. Then the rejected guy challenging her new beau to a duel after she ran off with someone else. All trivial, insignificant gossip.
My mindset, stuffed full of realpolitik, couldn't quite grasp why a nation's leaders would obsess over such nonsense—but that was how it was.
But the showdown our class's young ladies were staging—the grand battle between Pernov and Einheart—had enough buzz to shatter the Academy's usual paradigms and then some.
"Did you hear? Grand Duchess Pernov and Einheart are clashing again."
"Noble maidens acting like brutes? It's ridiculous."
"But honestly, either one of them is worth a duel. Heh heh…."
"Should make for a good show."
Why? Because even if these young ladies who should be giggling and charming men at balls were pulling off such brutish stunts, it still made perfect sense.
Pernov: The house of the blue lion, with martial valor etched into their hearts. A family where women had occasionally inherited the grand duchy, even if only nominally as regents.
And on the other side, Einheart. Currently overshadowed a bit by Lagrange, but still the sole heir to a swordsmanship dynasty that had once produced even a hero.
Plus, Zigrinde had previously demolished Irina so badly she'd ended up in the Detention Center, but after getting out, it had all been settled into this formal duel.
So on duel day, guys and girls alike would come scrambling, asses glued to the seats in the Duel Arena. No brainer.
In this godforsaken era without shorts or reels, nothing topped this as a hot potato.
—
In other words, even before it started, the Academy students had already packed the place decently.
Our Mist Flower class kids were no exception. Well, Alrun was stuck in the hospital, so she couldn't make it.
"Hm hm. Nice weather today."
Sion had beaten even me there, plopped right next to my spot. Following her gaze, I saw my obnoxious colleague professors huddled together, slouched like moldy rags hung out to dry.
Unexpected.
'Honestly, just witnessing a duel between such noble houses is an honor for them…. I figured they'd try to sabotage it. But they're behaving today? Weirdos.'
Did they all lose a fistful of hair this morning? Or was their good-morning reflex server lagging?
If they're gonna sit there dragging the vibe down, they could all just fuck off.
But whatever.
"Professor, Professor Joseph—"
"Yeah, Valentina."
My stray thoughts about them vanished the moment our pint-sized rich girl swooped into section three.
"Ehehehe…. Thanks for the great show, Academy. Glad I came. Sick of watching junkie thugs brawl—noble ladies going at it like this? You can't see that anywhere else."
"You can watch it that way, sure…. But maybe hold back a bit? Might be better."
"No holding back. Too boring otherwise. Wanna bet with me?"
"Tch."
"Oink."
Par for the course with her.
She acted like it was her first time seeing highborn nobles go full demon. Dopamine fully charged before it even started, she was chomping dried meat beside me like jerky.
"……."
And with two students flanking me on either side, Lulua—who I'd figured wouldn't want to see this—was surprisingly there, scribbling something.
"Hic—?!"
"You okay, Tiel?"
"N-no…. The bandages I always wrap feel a bit hot. Must be my imagination. I'll rewrap them!"
"Want me to help?"
"N-no, it's fine…! Don't worry about it."
She was so quiet and diligent that Tiel always got overshadowed by our shoulder-padded powerhouse ladies, but she was here too.
Of course, amid the faces I could pick out, one who wasn't from Mist Flower had shown up.
"……."
Back corner of the seats. A hulking guy standing arms crossed, deliberately distanced from the other students—not even sitting.
Irina's twin brother and Violet class rep: Ropf Pernov.
As twins, his vibe overall resembled hers, but those shoulders screamed sword-honed muscle. Anyone could tell at a glance: don't fuck with this guy.
And the moment our eyes met by chance.
He gave a silent, slight bow of respect my way.
"Huh."
The firstborn son of a grand ducal house, giving a polite nod to a nobody like me first.
Pretty refreshing.
Makes sense, though. The so-called nobles of this world—no, precisely the capital nobles—wouldn't twitch a muscle for anyone beneath them, Demon King slayer or not.
But this guy, being from the north, apparently didn't sweat the hierarchy.
'Acts the part of a magnanimous one.'
Or maybe just courtesy toward the guy tutoring his sister? Either way, not one of my class kids, so who cares.
I nodded back slightly and looked away.
But right then, I couldn't miss the worry etched deep on Ropf's face.
The way he watched Irina was pure fretful anxiety.
Twin siblings, sure, hard not to worry. But his complexion was darker than that—like watching a kid left by the water's edge.
'Yeah, figures. He told her not to come to the Academy in the first place. When she insisted, he scrambled to marry her off.'
All to protect her, but it blew up into a huge fight, and now he couldn't even talk to her.
Wonder what he'd do if he knew she came here—and busts her ass to stand out—because of him.
…….
Not my problem.
As referee, I needed to focus on the duel. Not one of my kids anyway, so I consciously blanked him from my mind.
Thud—
Thud—
And right then.
Two figures emerged from opposite entrances, heading to the center of the Duel Arena.
"Heh heh."
One was Irina, red eyes flashing as she appeared. After days of my lessons, her body was nicely toned.
Shoulders slightly tensed, but her sword hand steady. Steps surprisingly calm overall—decent form, I'd say.
'Good shape. No fear, so worth the hype.'
Even I felt a surge of confidence watching her. The girl who couldn't mimic me properly just days ago, standing tall in the center of a formal duel with all eyes on her.
Yeah, she was a good student.
"……Heh."
Next came Zigrinde, silver hair whipping as she entered. That Detention Center break must've helped; unlike Irina, she showed zero tension.
Corner of her mouth quirked up as she swung her sword once to loosen up.
'…But, wait.'
One thing: the look in her eyes at Irina was different.
Not the mad rabid-dog glare from before.
Today, it was more… observant, appraising.
'Professor only taught her swordplay, skipped me. Fine. Let's see what she's got.'
Like she was saying that, her eyes sparkled as she stared at Irina.
Yeah. At least she was keeping her Detention Center promise to me?
Made me almost emotional that reason had finally dawned on her. How bad did she want to be my disciple….
"Now, both sides."
Finally in position as referee, I stood between them and raised a hand for quiet.
"The rematch begins now. Lady Irina Vladimirovna Pernova of House Grand Duke Pernov. Lady Zigrinde Einheart of House Count Einheart. Prepare yourselves."
"……Yes."
"Got it."
"—But avoid lethal wounds, both of you. If not, I'll call it off by force."
And as I said that, the arena's chatter died in an instant.
The packed spectator seats held their breath.
To repeat: even in the dullest Academy, events drawing this much hype were rare.
"Begin."
Shing—!
Shriiing—!
With that word, Irina and Zigrinde drew their swords.
But before blades meant for resolve could clash.
Irina drew something else.
"Zigrinde."
"…Huh? Muttering from the start? Grand Duchess."
"I have words. I hear your house raised you with great care—only for it to end in you insulting me and committing lèse-majesté against a grand ducal house. Your father must've agonized endlessly while you rotted in the Detention Center."
"───Huh?"
"So today, I'll crush you and restore my honor—and your father's too. Understood?"
"You crazy bitch—"
"Sorry, but watch the language."
Irina had a real talent for needling people, more than I'd thought.
"You look weak."
Boiling down her rambling.
One word summed it up.
"Your daddy."