Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: The Reason for His Rage
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Hector looked up at me with a dazed expression, and at that very moment, blood just so happened to trickle from his nose.
I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Even a guy that handsome looks ridiculous with blood streaming from both nostrils.
“You—.”
Hector shot to his feet and attacked again.
His momentum was fiercer, but it was an emotional offensive, making it easy to read.
I dodged without difficulty and asked.
“What’s the name of this sword style?”
“Shut up!”
“Ah. The ‘Shut Up’ sword style.”
Hector’s face turned beet red.
No matter how talented you are, or that you're the son of the Iron-Blooded Duke, a lack of real combat experience leads to this.
Losing your composure over a simple taunt.
To be fair, if his opponent hadn't been me, Hector might not have ended up in this state.
“Are you just going to keep dodging like a rat?!”
“If all I did was dodge, your nose would still be in one piece, wouldn't it?”
“Shut up!”
“I told you, I know the name now.”
Just as a vein bulged on Hector’s forehead.
“Hector—!”
A commanding voice, as if shouting a reprimand, rang out from somewhere.
I glanced over at the spectators.
A middle-aged man who bore a subtle resemblance to Hector was standing there.
‘Someone from Hector's maternal family, perhaps.’
In any case, that shout seemed to have helped Hector regain his composure.
Though his face was still flushed with anger, he momentarily paused his attack to steady his breathing.
Truthfully, to end this quickly, I should have pressed my advantage, but a sudden question came to mind.
“By the way, brother, why do you hate me so much?”
“What?”
“There must be a reason you’re clenching your teeth and being such a nuisance.”
Hector glared at me and said.
“…Can you not see that your current impudent attitude is fanning the flames of my anger?”
“Cut the crap. You hated me even when I was acting pathetic.”
“……”
“Brother Hector, you're not the type of person to put this much effort into messing with someone just because they're a bit annoying. You're not that idle, either.”
Hector was still glaring at me, but his grip on his sword had loosened slightly.
After a moment of silence, his voice came out low.
“How much do you know about the [Great Families]?”
Though the topic came out of nowhere, I answered without hesitation.
“The heroes who drove out the Dark Cult 2,000 years ago, and their descendants.”
“In short, yes. The imperial family, of course, the Goodsprings, the Bednickers, and every other family that participates in the Blessing Ceremony… whether their bloodline is strong or diluted, they all carry the blood of those great ancestors. And the Blessing is more definitive proof than any pedigree.”
“Proof?”
Hector suddenly plunged his sword into the ground.
Rumble…….
At that moment, the ground rippled.
“The ultimate proof that one has inherited the blood of the great heroes.”
It was as if an aftershock had occurred.
Fortunately, everyone present knew this was not a natural phenomenon, so there was no chaos.
Crack, crack!
The training grounds split apart like parched earth in a drought.
I maintained my balance on the shaking ground without difficulty.
“And in the past 2,000 years, among all those people, there has never been a single one without a Blessing. Ruan Bednicker. That is, until you appeared.”
Grind.
Flames flickered in Hector’s eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much humiliation my father suffered among the [Great Families] because of that?”
“Humiliation?”
“Those lowly bastards belittled and insulted my father's bloodline. They spouted nonsense about his ancestor's blood being diluted, that he wasn't a true hero, that he was actually a mongrel… They spewed all that bullshit.”
Only then did I understand the situation.
As I’ve said, to Hector, the Iron-Blooded Duke is a god, and this guy is his fanatical follower.
From my perspective, he's not much different from a worshiper of a Calamity God. In any case, I am the one who brought shame upon this guy's one and only god.
Now I finally understood why he was being such an over-the-top asshole to me.
“When I heard the news about you, I wanted to kill you on the spot. But I restrained myself. Because Father said nothing. Yet you dared to set your filthy foot in the main house again.”
“But I succeeded in receiving a Blessing.”
“If there is a reason you will not die today, that would be it.”
Hector pulled the sword from the ground, aimed it at me, and charged again.
The trajectory of the blade.
This time, something was different.
Fsssh!
I was sure I had dodged it.
Yet blood suddenly spurted from my shoulder, which hadn't even been touched.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at Hector’s sword.
Unlike the sword style from before, I knew exactly what this was.
‘Is this the Afterimage Sword?’
This is the sword style he created when he was about fourteen.
By infusing mana into the blade and altering it at unique intervals, it creates irregular transformations in the sword aura.
In other words, when facing this sword style, you must be wary not only of the physical blade but also of the sword aura created by mana.
Swish!
Hector’s movements were faster than before, as if he had cloaked himself in his Blessing.
The killing intent imbued in his blade grew stronger and stronger, making it feel less and less like a spar.
‘It’s a tricky sword style, I’ll give it that.’
But if you were to ask if it was threatening, the answer would be no.
At first, small wounds began to appear on my body, one by one, but at a certain point, I stopped getting injured.
That happened the moment I got used to his attacks.
To put it briefly, the concept is good, but his mastery of it is disappointing.
It was great that he’d managed to create an irregular sword style, but the user’s simple-minded psychology made it all predictable.
In many ways, this was a sword style that was still too advanced for the current Hector.
He might have been better off sticking with the fierce style from the beginning.
Of course, I felt no obligation to kindly offer him advice, so I said nothing.
From the moment my inspection of the Afterimage Sword was over, I began to advance, one step at a time.
Hector’s expression hardened to an impossible degree.
It seemed this was the first time he had faced an opponent who closed the distance while he was using the Afterimage Sword at full power.
Soon, impatience and frustration began to seep into his swordsmanship.
Grit.
The moment I heard the sound of grinding teeth, I knew it was time.
I deliberately created an opening on my flank.
The timing was so perfect that Hector thrust his sword forward without a hint of suspicion.
He had thrown himself headfirst into the trap I had laid.
I immediately twisted my upper body to evade the blade, but this time, I didn't just stop at dodging.
Clamp!
I immediately clamped my arm down, trapping Hector's sword in my armpit.
“What?!”
Hector seemed genuinely surprised.
Even though I had caught the flat of the blade, it was still a dangerous move.
It was like trying to shave with an axe; anyone would try to stop you.
Moreover, Hector was still manifesting the Afterimage Sword, so my armpit was stinging quite a bit.
I couldn't stay like this for long, so while Hector was stunned, I slammed my fist into his jaw.
CRACK!
Did I shatter his jawbone? It felt like it.
The staggering Hector let out a scream and charged, but I clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the loud noise.
People often call fights between weapon users 'close-quarters combat,' but to a hand-to-hand fighter like me, even a sword is a mid-range weapon.
In other words, for the first time since the duel began, I had Hector within my range.
“……!”
With my hand still over his mouth, I pushed him down to the ground.
His tenacity in not letting go of his sword even in this situation was commendable, but that alone wasn't enough to reverse his disadvantage.
As if he had read my thoughts.
Hector roughly dropped his sword and reached for me, but I swatted his hand away with my other and tightened my grip on his mouth.
Crrrack.
“——!”
I could feel Hector letting out a silent scream.
“A little more pressure and your jawbone might just pop right off. Ever eaten nothing but porridge for a month?”
“——!”
It’s an experience worth having at least once.
Just then, Hector's eyes flashed with a bright yellow light, and he shoved me away with incredible strength.
‘His Blessing?’
It seems to be a type that temporarily amplifies physical abilities. Why is he only using it now?
‘He’s not used to it yet, and he didn’t want to use it on someone like me.’
Probably both.
Watching the furiously charging Hector somehow reminded me of Hariba.
His power was surging, but he didn't seem to know how to control it.
His overall physical performance had risen by a level or two, but for me, this made him easier to deal with.
‘It seems he’s learned some unarmed martial arts, too.’
Judging by his movements, he wasn't just fighting wildly.
Still, compared to his swordsmanship, his training and depth in it were pathetic.
Thwack, thwack, thwack. I dodged Hector's clumsy attacks, landing a punch here and there between them.
I focused particularly on his face, and after taking a few hits, Hector seemed to be having trouble seeing.
The sharpness vanished from his movements, which had at least possessed some basic form, and at some point, they devolved into unsightly flailing.
“Solar plexus, waist, thigh, forehead, waist again. What are you doing? You’re full of openings. Who taught you how to throw a punch so clumsily?”
I could feel that my own attitude was quite childish and emotional, but I had no desire to restrain myself.
Since I’m young again, it’s not so bad to act my age once or twice.
Before I knew it, Hector’s appearance had become so pathetic that I could hardly bear to look.
Blood dripped from his swollen face, and the iron armor, which I assumed belonged to the Iron-Blooded Knights, was crumpled like scrap metal.
He was making strange gasping sounds, but he could apparently still speak, as his mouth opened.
“Who… are… you…”
I sighed.
First the assassins, and now him. Why did everyone I beat up react the same way?
SMACK!
I slapped Hector hard across the cheek to snap him out of it.
Then I grabbed him by the collar and shook him.
“You don't know who I am? I'm the cute youngest of the Bednickers. The little brother you utterly ignored.”
“You… can't be… Ruan…”
His pronunciation was surprisingly clear, despite his face being swollen to a pulp.
Something about the sight of him irked me, so I slapped him again.
SMACK!
His eyes still had some fight in them, so I hit him again.
I didn't like his face, so I hit him again.
I didn't like his black hair, so I hit him again.
I diligently tended to Hector, giving him the special attention one saves for the truly detested.
Then I heard Hector muttering something through his swollen face.
“What was that?”
I stopped hitting him and leaned in to listen to his mumbling.
“Ma... madman... madman...”
His speech was slurred, but I knew what he was saying.
It's only proper to respond when you've been insulted.
I slapped Hector's cheek one more time, and with that, the guy promptly passed out.
“Good work, Hector.”
“……”
“…Brother.”
Tearing my gaze away from the fallen Hector, I looked around and realized that only the sound of breathing could be heard.
I looked at Jane, the official witness.
Jane paused for a moment, then said.
“—The winner, Ruan Bednicker.”
“……”
“……”
Should I say it was expected?
There was no cheering.