Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Touching His Pride (5)
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"Hmm."
Mikel swung his sword while swallowing a low groan.
It had already been several minutes since the spar began. A subtle sense of unease that others wouldn't notice was pricking at his nerves.
*Something's off.*
First, Abel Kindriel was blocking all his attacks, but each one was slightly delayed.
*How many minutes has it been like this?*
The same situation dragged on, leaving him no choice but to grow suspicious.
Mikel was attacking with consistent strength and speed. Normally, Abel should have grown accustomed to it, his reactions speeding up bit by bit.
But from the start until now, Abel had been parrying Mikel's attacks at an astonishingly steady pace.
Second, Abel Kindriel's breathing hadn't faltered in the slightest.
Parrying sword strikes naturally made one's breath grow ragged over time. Plus, it consumed a great deal of muscle power, putting increasing strain on the arms.
Yet Abel's complexion remained strangely serene. Not a single bead of sweat gleamed on his smooth forehead.
*Is he forcing that air of composure?*
Finally, the third point: Abel Kindriel displayed an oddly sloppy demeanor.
Abel's footwork and grip on his sword were flawless. Yet right before Mikel attacked, an enticing opening would briefly reveal itself.
At this point, Mikel formed an unbelievable hypothesis.
It was absurd even to him, but with a very slim chance...
*What if Abel Kindriel is orchestrating all of this?*
He needed to test the theory.
So far, Mikel had only used the basics of Nod Swordsmanship. It was akin to the rite of passage that new recruits to the knight order learned.
*Let's see...*
He gradually increased the intensity and speed of his swordsmanship. So subtly that the onlookers wouldn't notice.
"-!"
Abel's cerulean-purple eyes flashed. At the same time, a faint smile ghosted across his lips.
*He's smiling?*
For a moment, Mikel doubted his own eyes. Soon after, chills raced down his spine.
Clang!
Abel's sword met his without a gap. Beyond it, Abel's face remained just as calm despite the shift in circumstances.
Clang! Kang!
Their swords clashed repeatedly. Abel was defending flawlessly against Mikel's onslaught, like a fierce north wind.
*Heh, this can't be.*
Even as his own attacks grew stronger, Abel's responses were perfect. He was maintaining the exact same intervals as before.
It was a realm impossible without comprehending the counters to Nod Swordsmanship.
*Is this level possible at his age?*
The dynamic vision to read Mikel's attacks, the reflexes to respond, and the substantial muscle power required.
On top of that, he was employing Ovest Swordsmanship, as if bestowed by Diego himself. And quite refined at that.
"Hmm..."
Mikel secretly swallowed hard.
His daughter Lea had once declared to him that she would never marry a man weaker than herself.
In this empire, the only youth who met that criterion was Cain Ardante. But now, a new possibility was unfolding before him.
Abel Kindriel, as an option.
*Perfect!*
Just like that, a plan formed in Mikel's mind without consulting the parties involved. His mood lightened instantly.
*I can give this much instruction to my future son-in-law.*
Harboring thoughts that would spell disaster if Abel knew them, Mikel intensified his attacks further.
No opponent had ever parried his strikes so well until now. Even when he attacked like pounding rice cakes, Abel received them like sticky tteok—it was exhilarating.
*Come on, block this too!*
It was his first spar this enjoyable. Caught up in the excitement, his arm swung wildly.
Lost in his assault, Mikel failed to notice Abel's changes.
The faint heat in his eyes, the slightly disrupted breathing. And the cold sweat beginning to bead on his pale forehead.
"Urgh...!"
Abel gritted his teeth. From some point, his face looked like he was locked in a desperate struggle.
"...?"
Only then did Mikel notice Abel's condition. He tried to pause and assess the situation.
But in that moment of distraction, his sword instinctively veered toward Abel's shoulder. A ingrained habit of targeting vital points.
*Damn, my killer instinct slipped out!*
Mikel hurriedly tried to pull back his sword.
At that instant, Abel's eyes sharpened fiercely. His cerulean-purple irises darkened to the point they seemed red.
Simultaneously, his movements accelerated to a speed too fast to follow with the naked eye.
"-!"
For a split second, Mikel felt as if Abel had vanished behind his sword. No, it was as if he had become the sword itself.
The pinnacle of Ovest Swordsmanship—a single strike at its extreme zenith—bloomed like a flower.
*That technique!*
Mikel's eyes widened dramatically. He could have sworn Diego was standing right in front of him.
"Th-that's...!"
"Isn't that dangerous?!"
"Someone stop him...!"
The onlookers leaped to their feet.
All eyes focused on the clash between Abel and Mikel. At the critical moment when their swords met,
Clang!
Abel hurled his sword to the ground.
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
The watching crowd let out dumbfounded exclamations.
"I... lose."
Abel slowly raised both hands. Mikel's sword rested against his throat.
Mikel had succeeded in redirecting his blade at the last second. But he had failed to control its force.
In the end, his sword had left a cut on Abel's neck.
Drip.
A drop of blood trickled down Mikel's blade and fell to the floor.
"...!"
Abel flinched as if scalded by something. He glanced at the blood on the ground, then averted his eyes as if he'd seen something he shouldn't.
"Hoo..."
Abel bit his lip hard. His face paled dramatically.
Seeing this, Mikel grew suspicious.
*Afraid of blood?*
Unaware of Abel's true condition, he had no choice but to assume Abel had a weak stomach.
"...Sorry about that."
Mikel quickly withdrew his sword. He approached Abel with a pitying expression.
"Young Lord Abel, are you alright?"
Abel just scowled at the ground, face twisted.
His clenched jaw trembled. It was an expression of pained restraint, as if suppressing something fiercely.
"Why on earth is he acting like that? Why throw his sword?"
"Is the neck wound that serious?"
"If it hurts that much to make such a face, how did he even hold a sword?"
The onlookers were simply baffled.
Mikel was equally puzzled. The Abel he knew wouldn't flinch at something like this.
"Young Lord, does the wound hurt that much?"
"......"
"This old man's zeal got the better of him. It's not deep, so with quick treatment, you'll be fine."
The one who could resolve everyone's doubts remained silent.
After a moment's hesitation, Mikel lightly touched Abel's shoulder.
"Young Lord Abel?"
"-!"
Abel jerked his head up with a start. Meeting his eyes, Mikel froze.
Abel's cerulean-purple irises flickered red. A dangerous, feral glint he'd never seen before.
It must feel like this to face a monster that could never be tamed.
A chill ran down Mikel's spine.
*Me, feeling unnerved?*
Startled, he pulled his hand back and stepped away. It was all utterly incomprehensible.
"...I'm fine."
Abel finally spoke. His voice, now much hoarser, sounded almost like a beast's growl.
"I... have received... your instruction well."
His words came out haltingly, as if too exhausting to utter. With that, he spun on his heel.
"I'll... see you later."
Without waiting for Mikel's reply, he left. He even skipped bowing to the Emperor in the audience.
"That insolent brat..."
"Just leaving without a word!"
The onlookers turned their gazes in bewilderment toward Captain Joshua, who would declare the match's victor.
"Uh..."
Captain Joshua stood there blankly, at a loss.
"Why is he acting like that?"
"We have no idea either."
The crowd's eyes naturally shifted to Mikel. They found him standing rigidly with a strangely grave expression.
"-Ah."
Finally sensing their stares, he straightened up.
"Hahaha."
Mikel let out a hearty laugh and shrugged his shoulders.
"I haven't the foggiest idea what just happened."
"Then why not declare the winner clearly?"
Carlo asked in a probing tone, clearly eager to hear Abel's defeat confirmed aloud.
"Hmm, well."
Mikel leisurely stroked his beard. His gaze drifted toward the direction Abel had vanished.
"Young Lord Abel said he lost himself, but in my opinion, this was..."
The onlookers' eyes gleamed as they awaited his next words.
"...a draw."
His confident declaration left their mouths agape.
"How is that a draw?"
"Abel was the one who dropped his sword and fled first!"
"Didn't he admit defeat himself?"
"Quiet."
Mikel raised his hand authoritatively, silencing the uproar.
"I declare it so."
He turned to face the crowd. An enigmatic smile played on his cheek.
"The title of the empire's strongest... will soon change hands."
With that, he departed. The onlookers buzzed, exchanging glances.
Grind.
Amid the clamor, a vicious grinding sound slipped in—from Cain's mouth, his face twisted like he'd eaten dung.
❖ ❖ ❖
"...That concludes it."
Elice dotted the i and lifted her quill. She slipped the paper into the ledger and pushed it aside.
"Uwaaaah."
She collapsed face-first onto the desk, a long sigh escaping her lips.
"Finally done...!"
"All finished?"
Jack, who had been squatting beside her, asked. Elice groaned and waved her arm.
"No, about four-fifths done. I should finish before the boss gets back, though."
"What a drag."
Jack shook his head and carefully opened the breeding tank's lid.
"Take a break. You've been glued to that desk for three hours straight."
"Yeah, my back's killing me."
Elice thumped her back as she stood. She stepped away from the desk and approached Jack.
"The more I look, the more amazing it is."
"Goldstar? Yeah, it really is something."
Jack placed a quail egg on the soil in the tank. Spotting it, Goldstar slithered over stealthily.
"Egg-Eater Snake, huh? First I've heard of it. I thought all snakes liked live prey."
A smile tugged at Jack's lips as he watched Goldstar.
"So cute. Look at those round eyes. It just gets cuter the more I see it."
Jack's tastes differed from the norm. Elice burst into a giggle at the sight.
"No, I wasn't talking about it being amazing. I meant you."
"Huh? Me?"
"Yeah."
Elice reached out and ruffled Jack's hair.
"It feels like yesterday you were trembling like a leaf walking through that door on your first day."
A small smile curved Elice's lips.
"And now look at you, totally adapted."
"Hey, Sis, come on. Don't mess with my hair!"
Jack clutched his tousled locks and pouted. Despite his protests, Elice just laughed merrily.
"Seeing you is like looking at Dexter when he was a kid."
"Ew, that guy?"
Jack yelped and made a face of disgust.
"Don't say creepy stuff like that."
Dexter teased Jack whenever he got the chance, finding his reactions amusing.
Truth be told, Jack didn't hate it. He knew such pranks required a baseline of fondness.
"Pretending to hate it when you actually like it."
Elice's words pierced right through Jack's facade.