10. What Happened One Night - 02
On the training grounds of the Dekaraznan Ducal House, tucked away in a secluded corner of the mansion.
The grounds were practically wallpapered with money—coated so casually with enchantments for physical and magical resistance that other noble houses could barely afford to apply them even outside their castle gates. On that very ground, a man and a woman faced off, swords raised.
The man's name was Kain von Estel. Not long ago, he had been unremarkable beyond his title as the young duke of House Estel, but lately he had made a name for himself by consecutively defeating renowned warriors across the empire—a man who could rightfully be called a champion of the battlefield.
Before him stood a woman who had drawn a deep breath and raised her sword, visibly tense, if only slightly.
Her dark brown hair was tied up to avoid hindering her swings. Even clad in soft leather armor, her astonishing allure was undeniable—the gentle curves of a supple body flowing from slender limbs to a voluptuous chest.
The woman's name was Noel von Dekaraznan. The sole daughter of the Dekaraznan Ducal House, which had endured for a thousand years, and a talent assessed—if one looked purely at her gift for the sword—to surpass her elder brother Perzel von Dekaraznan and contend for the title of the era's finest swordsman, no impossibility at all.
The reason she had now raised her sword against Kain was simple. First, her father, Duke Dekaraznan, had ordered it. And second—
Noel herself had wanted this. A match against a powerhouse who shook the continent was not an opportunity that came often.
...He really is as formidable as the rumors say...!
Noel stared at Kain, who was looking back at her with an expressionless face, and swallowed hard without realizing it. His stance was properly set, yet gaps lay exposed all over. At a glance, he seemed so full of openings that anyone would nod and believe he had lived like an idle wastrel with his sword set aside for years.
His left upper arm, his right forearm, and on top of that, his feet were spaced unevenly, tilting his balance slightly to the left. Normally, she would have charged in without hesitation and struck those openings.
...But this time, she couldn't move recklessly. She had heard countless tales that the figure before her was a powerhouse so great she could not even gauge him.
The rumors said that Kain von Estel, before even reaching the Master realm, had thoroughly toyed with and effortlessly defeated Young Duke Turnizen—who had himself reached the Master realm—using nothing but bare-handed martial arts without even picking up a sword.
That wasn't all. There was a rumor, truly hard to believe: that he touched another's aura with his bare hand without any reaction, and even when caught in an enemy's scheme and attacked by a first-rate swordsman and mage while defenseless, he had displayed unbelievable fighting spirit and ultimately seized victory.
And as if to certify those rumors, the news that Iris El Debhart, the Imperial Princess who had risen to the position of the empire's greatest swordswoman in a woman's body, had personally visited the Estel Duchy—captivated by his genius to discuss the sword—had shaken the entire continent.
Even more astonishing was that even the Imperial Princess had been unable to achieve what she sought and had to depart the Estel Duchy in solitude. At this, people whispered among themselves: that even the Imperial Princess had been charmed by his talent, but his talent lay somewhere even higher. That perhaps the imperial son-in-law had already been decided.
Beyond that, rumors attesting to his strength overflowed. She dismissed them, of course, as idle talk. Noel was no fool who blindly accepted unverified tales as truth. But even if only a fraction of a fraction of those rumors were true, it was safe to assume that any possibility of her defeating Kain von Estel here was nonexistent.
"..."
She did not consider defeat shameful. Her opponent, like herself, was a Seeker of the Way who honed the sword, and a trailblazing figure walking a path far ahead of hers. Losing to such a transcendent powerhouse was never a disgrace. She only worried that she might disgrace herself before such a strong opponent without managing to display the full extent of her skill.
"...I am Noel von Dekaraznan. It is a true honor to meet the renowned Young Duke Estel."
She tried to show the dignity befitting the heir of a thousand-year prestigious house, but she could not help the slight catch in her voice from nerves. As if to accept her greeting, Kain nodded and spoke.
"Kain von Estel. I look forward to this, Lady Dekaraznan."
Kain's words were proper, yet at the same time cold enough that a stranger might mistake him for being nervous. Of course, there was no way a renowned powerhouse like him could be nervous, so it must simply be the arrogance typical of the strong.
But Noel felt no displeasure at his demeanor. No, she actually found it admirable. This was it—the ideal, coldly rational warrior she herself pursued—
"...Tsk."
That was when it happened. As Noel gazed at him with sparkling eyes, she heard someone click their tongue at her from somewhere. She turned her head to look for the source and found a beautiful, white-haired woman who seemed balanced on the boundary between a girl and a woman.
Standing demurely with his outer coat in her hands, at first Noel thought she might be a handmaiden he had brought, but the clothes she wore were so high-quality that her identity was a little puzzling.
Her face was very intelligent and even prim. She did not look like someone who would commit the rude act of clicking her tongue at a total stranger. Noel soon concluded that she must have been hearing things due to excessive nerves.
"...Then, I will begin. Young Duke Estel."
She knew well the swordsmanship used by Young Duke Estel. House Estel's unique technique, the Bright God Sword Art, was renowned across the continent as an orthodox style deeply devoted to solidifying the fundamentals.
But at the same time, it was a fundamentally faithful technique—too upright, without variation. If so, Noel had a certain chance. The Dekaraznan Ducal House's unique technique, the Waning Sun Sword Art, pursued irregularity and targeted the opponent's openings.
"Haah—!"
The moment Noel suddenly lunged forward, the sword in her hand twisted bizarrely into a reverse grip and fiercely struck toward Kain's vitals. In the next instant, over a dozen slash lines materialized out of nowhere and bore down on him.
But Kain's expression did not change in the slightest. He extended his sword forward, and before she could even register it, the trajectory of her blade wavered slightly. And without missing that opening, Kain used the rebound to slip into her blind spot.
Noel did not panic. She rotated her body and reversed her sword. The blade spun elegantly in her hand, releasing a piercing tearing sound. The Waning Sun Sword Art was designed to exert its full power from any stance. A mere change in the opponent's position was no cause for alarm.
In a flash, Noel's figure blurred. This time she lunged at Kain, swinging her sword toward his upper body. The speed was so great that the arc of her blade looked like a single streak of light.
Clangclangclangclang—!
"...!"
But in that split second, the sword she had swung was knocked back at invisible speed. His reflexive speed was truly fearsome. The sight of him deflecting her blade without even a hint of surprise was the very image of a master, and she could not help but admire him once again.
...Huh?
But then, something strange caught her eye. Kain's arm, after blocking her technique just now, was trembling, if only slightly. There was no way a powerhouse of his caliber would be fatigued from blocking just that. He was probably hesitating, reluctant to swing his sword at someone so overwhelmingly beneath him.
As expected, he was an ideal warrior with a character as excellent as his skill—
Inwardly marveling once more, Noel pressed her attack against Kain again. She swung her sword at him with everything she had, but Kain evaded every single strike with a truly indifferent look in his eyes.
Swiish—!
Noel's blade never reached Kain. Even when it seemed to barely graze him, her sword veered off course as if by magic every time. It felt as though Kain were artificially manipulating the flow of her blade.
...Of course, that couldn't really be true. His evasion techniques must simply be superb. Deep in her heart, Noel acknowledged that the difference in their skill was that vast.
Then it happened. For whatever shift of heart he had experienced, he suddenly let his sword droop downward. To anyone ignorant, it would have looked as though his stamina had drained after a string of such rapid movements. But there was no way a powerhouse like him was already exhausted, so it was surely a trap meant to lure her in.
...Should I go in?
But at the same time, it was an awfully sweet trap. At this rate, she had no chance. Even in defeat, she wanted to land at least one solid hit—that obstinate thought seized her mind.
Pah—!
In the end, the choice Noel made was to attack. She gathered all her remaining strength and dashed toward Kain's heart. This was Noel's final, desperate struggle.
...And that became her decisive undoing.
Boom—!
"...!"
She couldn't even perceive what had happened. When she came to her senses, the positions of the sky and the earth had been swapped. All that remained was the guess that he had probably used a counter to subdue her.
A complete defeat.
Yes. She had lost. She had suffered an unquestionable, perfect defeat. And it wasn't simply a loss. To the very end, Young Duke Estel had taught her many things.
The message he had intended to teach her was surely that one must never let their guard down until the final moment. To engrave that into her body directly, he had plainly pretended to be weak against her, an overwhelmingly inferior opponent—
"I have lost. It is my complete defeat."
A refreshing declaration of defeat slipped from Noel's lips. And from her eyes seeped a look of respect and adoration toward Kain, who had brought her down. The rumors had not been wrong. Young Duke Estel was surely a man near perfection, both as a human being and as a warrior—
"...Young Duke. If you..."
If he had time, she was about to ask whether he might share a cup of tea and discuss the sword with her. But at that very moment—
"Master Kain, you've worked hard."
The white-haired woman walked lightly toward the young duke, deftly cutting off Noel's words, and handed him a towel. Just as Noel was about to protest the rudeness, some unknown force acted upon her, pushing her gently backward. Now that she saw it, the white-haired woman did not appear to be an ordinary figure.
"...Hmph."
The white-haired woman glanced once at Noel, then let out a smirk. Normally she would have had words about that attitude, but at this moment she didn't feel like it. Because while Young Duke Estel was watching, using her status to rebuke the woman gave her the strange feeling that she would lose as a woman.
Zing—
After a long staring contest with the white-haired woman, Noel finally recalled one of the many rumors related to Young Duke Estel.
Come to think of it, Young Duke Estel had been engaged to Sarah Sernad—a beauty counted among the continent's top five—yet had taken a liking to another woman and gone through with breaking the engagement.
...Perhaps she is the young duke's concubine.
Indeed, even to another woman's eyes, the white-haired woman's presence was truly beautiful. So much so that the thought flickered through her mind: to this degree, breaking an engagement with Sarah Sernad would be understandable.
...Why.
She hadn't the slightest intention of blaming the young duke. Her own father, Duke Dekaraznan, kept two concubines apart from his lawful wife. A duke could naturally keep three or four concubines without any issue whatsoever.
...She just felt a little resentful toward the world. Why was it that an accomplished man's side was always already claimed? It was only a trace of jealousy.
And so, in a corner of Noel von Dekaraznan's heart, an emotion she herself did not yet recognize slowly began to sprout. Very, very faintly.