The Martial Display of the Sword That Cuts Down the Throne

p>Fabian joined the strategy meeting hosted by Duke Mathias.

p>Jeanne, who had been expected to attend such a gathering, was waiting outside for some reason.

p>“Are you not participating?”

p>“I do not know anything about fighting on the sea. Rather than intruding into a field I am not well versed in and becoming a nuisance, I shall wait and lend my strength where it will be of use.”

p>“Understood.”

p>The Tracquil Naval Battle.

p>Jeanne knew the outcome of that conflict.

p>If left to the promise of victory made by Duke Mathias, the battle would have ended in a victory for the allies. It was better to refrain from intervening than to intervene, and instead to lend strength on the front lines when she was fighting.

p>“Quite so.”

p>Jeanne and Nael faced each other on the training ground.

p>The gazes of the onlookers were focused on them.

p>The knights who had followed Jeanne from the order were fewer in number than the native knights and soldiers of La Rochelle, whose curiosity ran deeper.

p>They wished to see the strength of the knight who had become the captain of the 2nd Knight Order.

p>The soldiers should have been training, but since a trainer had come to watch, it was effectively a free period.

p>If the garrison of La Rochelle had not had strict military discipline, the sheer number of soldiers drawn by curiosity would have made control impossible.

p>Despite the large crowd, Jeanne and Nael remained calm.

p>At the moment of clashing steel, a swordsman’s duty was to concentrate solely on his own blade and the opponent before him.

p>Jeanne, facing Nael who wielded two swords in each hand, drew Joyeuse and assumed her stance.

p>‘Nael’s dual blades are known for their unconventional attacks.’

p>There was a reason she had chosen him as her sparring partner.

p>In the battle with Nicolas, she had briefly used her aura.

p>She had glimpsed a clue that would allow her to reach the previous level.

p>Even if her technique was nearly perfected, to truly shine in battle she needed to recover the skill she had possessed at twenty-four years old in her previous life.

p>Jeanne and Nael met in a clash of blades.

p>Two swords pierced for the slightest opening.

p>The blade of the Tyrant King never revealed a weak point.

p>Clang!

p>The swords slammed together in a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fierce exchange.

p>Sweat flew in every direction, and the violent movements captivated the onlookers.

p>However, only one person was unsatisfied with the spar.

p>It was Jeanne.

p>“Hmph.”

p>“Why so, Your Highness?”

p>“It is nothing.”

p>The sparring with Nael had fallen short of her expectations.

p>She had chosen him precisely because his unconventional style would be the most difficult opponent, yet she had not lived up to her hopes.

p>The true problem lay in the fact that, through Nael from her previous life, Jeanne knew his swordsmanship exceptionally well.

p>Among her subordinates, Nael was the closest to her—close enough that she could call him her blade, so to speak.

p>No matter how flashy, if there were forms and patterns, familiarity would allow her to read them.

p>She remembered not only Nael’s sword techniques but also his habits, so he was actually easier to deal with than she had anticipated.

p>“Ah, excellent!”

p>Nael doubled his force in his arms, his face showing strain as he activated his aura.

p>The two swords pressed forward more rapidly.

p>Jeanne received them with her blade while her mind wandered.

p>‘I need a different opponent.’

p>Of course, knowing Nael did not guarantee victory.

p>Moreover, this spar was intended only to improve her pure sword skill, so winning through exploiting weaknesses held no true meaning.

p>Jeanne brought her blade down heavily in a wide arc, driving Nael back.

p>As the distance grew, before he could charge again she extended one hand forward.

p>“Enough for now.”

p>“Are you afraid you will lose to me?”

p>“I simply wished to challenge the captain’s position.”

p>“Oh? That is also acceptable.”

p>“Enough. Let us save the real bout for later.”

p>Nael pouted and withdrew.

p>The fact that he had failed to win the bout left him unsettled.

p>Jeanne, for her part, surveyed the training ground in search of a partner who would satisfy her.

p>She already knew every knight of the 2nd Knight Order.

p>If they were not overwhelmingly powerful, at least their unfamiliarity would offer variety, but that was not the case either.

p>‘Perhaps I should request sparring from the knights of La Rochelle.’

p>If all else failed, she even considered fighting the local knights.

p>Then her gaze fell upon Chastan, who sat in a corner of the training ground.

p>“What are you doing here?”

p>“Ah! Captain!”

p>Jeanne approached and saw what he had been staring at.

p>In one corner of the training ground grew a strange white flower.

p>A tiny butterfly had buried its head in the petals and was drinking nectar.

p>“Hmm?”

p>“That… is a small winged creature that flies about. It is fascinating to watch.”

p>“It is adorable.”

p>“Yes! I agree. Its body is round and therefore adorable.”

p>A blush spread across Chastan’s face.

p>While Jeanne sparred with Nael, the other knights of the 2nd Knight Order trained in their own ways.

p>Ethan dueled Dane with his sword, and Ines trained alone.

p>Chastan had been about to spar with Nael, but with no opponent available he had curled up in a corner.

p>‘Chastan—someone I have never met before.’

p>In her previous life he had died before Jeanne joined the 2nd Knight Order.

p>A stranger, yet a powerful one—a perfect sparring partner for what she desired.

p>Jeanne approached him.

p>“Will you become my opponent?”

p>“Ah, yes! It is an honor!”

p>Chastan nodded with a bright smile.

p>They assumed their positions once more.

p>The moment Chastan drew his blade, his demeanor changed.

p>‘Is it truly the same person as before?’

p>Thick killing intent and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wild danger radiated from him.

p>Jeanne’s body shivered.

p>It had been a long time since she had felt such tension.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

p>‘More terrifying than I imagined.’

p>How could holding only a sword transform a person so completely?

p>Chastan charged forward, his golden eyes gleaming.

p>Ta!

p>“Kuh!”

p>Jeanne hastily raised her blade to block.

p>Chastan’s sword felt like the fangs of a beast of prey.

p>The slightest lapse and it would tear into her neck.

p>‘Where will it come from?’

p>She could not predict the direction of the incoming attack.

p>To Jeanne, who had honed her skill by predicting attacks through experience and instinct using known opponents, Chastan was the most difficult knight imaginable.

p>‘So fast.’

p>Above all, Chastan was swift.

p>Left or right, above or below—she could not tell.

p>She was too busy reacting to mount a counter.

p>The assault came like a storm.

p>Jeanne found herself caught in the rhythm of clashing blades, immersing herself in the very act of meeting the opponent.

p>More… more…

p>She had reached the edge of her caution during her duel with Nicolas.

p>She had briefly spread her aura.

p>Just a little more…

p>Her blood burned.

p>Her heart pounded.

p>As Jeanne grew excited, Chastan grew fiercer still.

p>“Whoa? Is that all right?”

p>Someone shouted.

p>To the onlookers, the situation had become dangerously close.

p>Chastan’s sword released a gray aura as he fought mindlessly.

p>Their clash was no longer a spar.

p>‘I can do this.’

p>A faint blue light swirled around Jeanne’s blade.

p>They engaged in a head-on clash.

p>“Haaaaah!”

p>Jeanne and Chastan thrust their blades forward together.

p>Boom!

p>The loud impact cleared the dust, revealing both of them.

p>Their swords pointed at each other.

p>Between them stood Ethan.

p>“It looked dangerous. I have intervened. Forgive me.”

p>Chastan, in battle, could not control himself.

p>If the two had injured each other, a catastrophe would follow, so Ethan had no choice.

p>“Hah… huff…”

p>Jeanne gasped for breath.

p>Chastan, suddenly composed, bowed his head with a sorrowful face.

p>“I-I am sorry.”

p>Jeanne, having calmed herself, forced a smile.

p>“I am fine.”

p>Her palm still tingled, yet the spar had been satisfying.

p>Jeanne gazed down at Joyeuse.

p>‘Almost there. Just a little more.’

p>The commanders of La Rochelle emerged from the morning meeting.

p>After a simple lunch, Jeanne and the knights boarded the ships prepared for them.

p>They had chosen to sail in advance to adapt to combat on the water.

p>“Whoa, it is huge.”

p>The La Rochelle ship was a galleon, a large vessel designed with its center of gravity lowered for greater stability compared to the earlier caravels.

p>While slightly smaller, it was faster and more heavily armed, far superior in gunnery duels.

p>Cannons of the size and weight required for siege warfare were difficult to move, so their use at sea far surpassed that on land.

p>Naval battles had evolved from the close-quarters combat that followed direct collisions to gun-based engagements.

p>Dozens of massive galleons, each as large as a house, stood in formation, an awe-inspiring sight.

p>Floating on the waves, they felt both wondrous and reassuring thanks to their size.

p>“Then this way.”

p>It was time for shipboard training.

p>Under Duke Mathias’s command, the remaining vessels began operations training, while Jeanne and her group boarded a specially prepared ship.

p>Kalen, Duke Mathias’s aide, guided them aboard.

p>The ship departed.

p>The waves rocked the vessel.

p>Those who had first welcomed the sea view soon twisted their faces as the waves grew fiercer.

p>Only Dane among ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them had prior sailing experience.

p>The rest suffered from seasickness aboard the swaying ship.

p>Chastan suffered the most.

p>He clung to the railing and vomited continuously.

p>Nael, whose complexion was rather poor, addressed Heini.

p>“Why are you fine?”

p>Surprisingly, Heini seemed perfectly well.

p>She had lived only in the forest far from the sea, and even on horseback she had complained, yet sailing was a joy to her.

p>The sea breeze ruffled her hair wildly.

p>“Hwa~ It feels good.”

p>Heini breathed in the salty wind with delight.

p>“The horse’s thighs feel like they will bruise, and the coccyx aches, and the back hurts. But the ship… you just sit on it.”

p>“Ah, is that so?”

p>Nael replied in astonishment.

p>Heini ignored him cleanly and continued to enjoy the wind.