The Kreuz Heir's Grudge
The heir to the kingdom's venerable swordsmanship family, Count Kreuz, Caspar von Kreuz, had been steeling himself for this day alone.
For the past six months, the Kreuz family's reputation had taken a severe beating.
Their beautiful younger sister, Isabella, had passed away. The circumstances were the real problem. It wasn't a noble sacrifice as a knight, nor an innocent death. She had become a shadow monster, committing countless acts of destruction and murder before finally being stopped. Even though the mastermind had recently been caught, at the time everything was shrouded in mystery, and even now the Kreuz family had no right to punish him.
Thus, to preserve his daughter's honor and the family's dignity, Caspar had no choice but to punish someone.
'Sophia... Aquilova.'
The traitor's daughter.
That woman had killed Isabella.
This much was undeniable truth. Caspar seethed with rage and wanted nothing more than to drag Aquilova's filthy bloodline to the gallows. At least until the princess intervened.
In the end, he had to devise another method, and hiring an assassination guild was merely the second-best option among many.
Back then, he never dreamed the assassination would fail and that the trail would lead back to tarnish even his father's honor.
'...That bitch.'
Caspar firmly believed that the root of all this catastrophe lay with one woman: Sophia Aquilova.
In the Kreuz family, it was routine to seek the cause of any problem outside the household, and Caspar had faithfully inherited that family creed from a young age.
That was why he had trained desperately—to punish Aquilova's tainted bloodline and to become the Sword Master of Kreuz after his father.
As a result, he had obtained the qualifications to take the exam.
And then he heard that the detestable woman would also be participating.
It was the perfect opportunity.
He couldn't hide his burning competitive spirit.
That was the reason he had approached Sophia at last night's banquet and picked a fight with her.
If Sophia Aquilova reacted with anger over her family's dishonor, he planned to immediately challenge her to a duel and leave a scar on that pretty face.
Caspar had trained in swordsmanship since childhood. He didn't think for a second that he would lose to some brat like her.
'Come on, get angry already. Give me a reason.'
Yet Caspar's expectations were dashed.
"Or what, are you going to send assassins again like last time, all fair and square?"
The one who spoke wasn't Sophia Aquilova, but the priest standing beside her.
A face Caspar had never seen before.
As the heir to Kreuz, Caspar had met plenty of notable knights. He was familiar with most of the examinees present here.
But this priest was an exception.
'Who is he?'
If someone wearing priest's robes showed up at the Sword Master qualification exam, Caspar should have remembered them.
The fact that he didn't meant the priest was insignificant.
More importantly, the man had just insulted his father. That alone was reason enough to throw down the gauntlet.
"Hey, priest. What did you just say?"
"I said it was funny how your father hanged himself."
"...Can you take responsibility for those words?"
"I wonder. I'm curious how exactly you plan to make me take responsibility."
The priest calmly met Caspar's sharp gaze with a serene expression.
Though there was something oddly confident about his demeanor that made Caspar hesitate for a moment, backing down now was impossible. The family's honor was at stake.
Caspar moved to remove his glove and throw it at the priest's face—a clear declaration of a duel.
But before he could, someone grabbed his wrist.
He turned his head to see Maximilian, the Kreuz family's chief steward who had accompanied him to the exam.
"...Max. Why are you stopping me? As the heir of Kreuz, I have a duty to punish that priest."
The chief steward's loyalty to Kreuz was no less than Caspar's own. He must have clearly heard the insignificant priest insult Kreuz just now. Caspar couldn't understand why he was being restrained.
But the chief steward leaned in and whispered quietly into Caspar's ear.
"That priest is no ordinary man."
"What?"
"He's the one who brought Aquilova's daughter—who used to be at the bottom of her class—all the way to the Sword Master qualification exam."
Caspar's eyes widened.
Indeed, he had heard the rumors. About a student at Erebos who had achieved miraculous growth in just half a year. Could that student really be Aquilova, and this priest her teacher?
"Furthermore, there are widespread rumors that the priest himself possesses exceptional martial prowess. No, it's not just rumors—the headmaster of Erebos personally awarded him a commendation. He even received the royal military medal."
"H-How is that even possible? Even my father never received the military medal..."
"They say it was this priest who unleashed a magical carpet bombing on the massive monster that appeared in Erebos recently. Some are calling his level immeasurable, referring to him as the bottomless priest."
In other words, this man was simultaneously an archmage, a swordsman of considerable skill, and publicly known as a priest.
"...Wait."
Caspar noticed the fan tucked into the priest's outer pocket. It bore the royal crest—a symbol of living power that only the king's direct representatives could receive.
"...Tch."
The title "bottomless" was truly fitting. After hearing about the priest's achievements, Caspar had no choice but to carefully tuck his ungloved hand back into his pocket.
Caspar was someone who knew how to weigh gains and losses. If he fought this priest and won, he could restore his father's honor. But if he lost? That would be an irreversible mistake, bringing irreparable disgrace to the family.
"...Damn it."
His father's honor had already fallen once. Falling a second time wouldn't make much difference.
Caspar rationalized it this way, his face hardening as he spoke.
"I'll remember this incident as a grudge between Kreuz and you. Live in fear for the rest of your life."
"Well, I don't know about living in fear, but I'll remember it."
The priest turned away with his usual relaxed demeanor. Though rage boiled within him, Caspar—who had already backed down—could do nothing.
'Tomorrow during the exam, I'll crush your disciple.'
In the end, he had no choice but to retreat while chewing over that thought.
*
The commotion had mostly settled.
Just in case the Kreuz man lost control and charged, Leo had desperately signaled Sophia for help, but she was simply staring at him with sparkling eyes.
Sitting beside Sophia, she had forgotten to chew the pastry in her mouth and was staring blankly at Leo's face before suddenly lowering her head.
Then came a soft murmur.
"Umm... Thank you."
"No, it wasn't really for your sake, Sophia. I just said it because I felt bad hearing it myself."
More than anything, given Sophia's personality, leaving things as they were would have definitely escalated into a fistfight. Leo couldn't bear to watch his disciple turn the Kreuz heir's face into a pulp.
It was already pitiful enough that the original Sword Saint was being treated like a brawler; his own reputation as her teacher would plummet along with hers.
They continued eating the banquet food in silence.
"The royal envoy will now explain the details of the qualification exam."
The squire from the royal knight order shouted, and everyone's attention focused on the stage.
Since it was a Sword Master qualification exam hosted by the royal family, Leo had wondered if the king himself might appear. But the person who stepped onto the stage had a familiar face.
Golden hair like the sun, blue eyes. She looked no older than her early twenties at best.
'Beatrice...'
"Mutt?"
There was one crazy woman who called the royal guard knight—and the kingdom's greatest swordsman—"Mutt."
'...My disciple, that is.'
Just as everyone's eyes were about to turn toward them at Sophia's muttering, Leo hurriedly covered her mouth.
"Mmph."
"Please don't use that nickname outside. Alright? I'm begging you."
Only after Sophia shook her head with tears welling at the corners of her eyes did Leo remove his hand from her mouth.
His hand was wet.
She really was a dog with a bad biting habit.
"...Ahem."
Beatrice watched their little scene for a while before letting out a deep sigh and speaking.
"First, as the royal representative, I am Beatrice Rudenfeldt."
Applause erupted.
Beatrice's reputation had already spread far enough that every knight in the kingdom knew of her.
The kingdom's greatest swordsman. The closest knight to Sword Saint at present.
'Siris... didn't come, I see.'
Leo could roughly guess the reason.
The king was dead. More precisely, they had killed the king. That fact hadn't been announced to the kingdom's citizens yet. But if it became known that the king had died, the kingdom would be thrown into chaos. In preparation for that, she must be thoroughly laying the groundwork for the transfer of power.
Therefore, only Beatrice had attended the qualification exam instead of Siris herself.
"The Sword Master qualification exam has featured different events every year."
Just as Leo's thoughts reached that point, Beatrice began explaining the exam's contents in a solemn voice.
"This year's test is 'Image Manifestation.'"
At those words, the banquet hall erupted in murmurs.