The Gauntlet Slap and the Verbal Swordfight

The duke's bastard son grabbed the second prince's wrist and slapped a glove right in his face. Hard enough to make a sound. It was the kind of utterly idiotic move that couldn't be anything else.

No matter how much they treated Kyle as the empire's wastrel, laying hands on royalty was a direct challenge to imperial authority. The whole family could get wiped out for defiling the throne. And on top of that, challenging the prince to a duel? As if the prince was some pushover who'd actually accept and fight the moron who just slapped him in the face.

The second prince could call in the Imperial Guard and have me executed on the spot, and no one would bat an eye. Yeah, I'm a fucking idiot. The kind of idiot who could only admit to doing something utterly idiotic. Even Don Quixote, high on his knightly delusions, wouldn't pull this shit.

But what can you do? The crazy voyeurs up top are dying to see some romance fantasy drama. I can practically hear old man Alfred's asshole tearing from here.

One duke's daughter lays hands on royalty. One duke's bastard touches the prince's body and issues a duel challenge. The empire's future looks fucking bleak, that's for sure.

But that's reality. Where is this? Not some soft romance fantasy world, right? In this world where the weak get crushed by the strong, it won't be that big a deal. The real problem is I'm not one of the heroines who get the romance fantasy love treatment.

Still, I'm choosing to believe. No way those peeping tom bastards foresaw this and told me to throw it, right? Why the fuck is there no other answer?

"I never thought the bastard of Logres would be such a beast without a shred of judgment... Fitting for Logres."

At a point where he could've called the guard and chopped my head off without a second thought, he fires back with that dad joke? Such magnanimity!

His reaction earlier was all girly, but now Prince Kyle de Astoria embodies generosity itself.

Screaming 'Execute me, Your Highness!' would be a mistake. He might actually do it. And actually brawling in a real duel? No way, I'd get wrecked.

Don't let level 33 fool you into dropping your guard. Even without using aura, his skills, traits, and exclusive stats put him way above me.

But standing still means I'm fucked. So, to survive here, what do I do? It's in the second prince's Strategy Guide.

A way for me to live, satisfy those crazy peeping toms, and something usable in the second playthrough but not the first.

Yeah. To survive, I'm using the heroine's Route keywords here. What a fucking joke. Me clearing the prince to save my ass? Bullshit.

The second prince's hidden keyword. The one the second playthrough protagonist can use: "I wish to debate swords with Your Highness."

Debate swords. That's it. The common wuxia trope: verbal sparring with cold weapons or words. Here, it's not swords but mouths clashing—so basically, trash talk fighting.

If A says, "I'll cut you with this technique," B counters, "Then I'll block with this one." Mouth fighting. The game recreated it as a TCG event, moving characters via card combos. I remember.

Why mix wuxia into a medieval romance fantasy? Hell if I know. The author loved wuxia, apparently. Announcement said wuxia DLC update ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coming.

I don't get medieval romance and wuxia together, but who cares? I'm the one about to die.

Anyway, my one shot at survival: sword debate. He used to love it, though long abandoned.

From the prince's view, it'll sound insane. He goes to slap me, I grab him, slap his face with a glove, then say "sword debate"? Normally, he'd mince me a thousand times and wipe out three generations.

Fuck, this better work.

I've done sword debates with the second prince tons in-game. Wiki had all his patterns and walkthroughs. Logres swordsmanship counters were there, and I won plenty. His strategy info is basically hardcoded in my brain.

"So... that's your last words?"

"Yes, my final words. In your vast magnanimity, grant me one sword debate."

"You're really courting death."

The second prince smirked at my words.

"Debate swords with a beast lacking judgment? Do you even have the knowledge, Logres?"

"Of course."

Angelica di Olivier and Isabella von Eterna stared at me like I was insane.

"In sword debate, I'm at an advantage with Logres swordsmanship."

But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can't back down. Or my head says bye to my body. In romance fantasy, the key is spirit! Unlike medieval worlds that chop your head for defiance, here a show of spirit can end the fight.

I'm no protagonist, but this thug face of mine doesn't lose in spirit!

"Fine."

Fuck! It worked, holy shit! Thank you, romance fantasy!

Angelica and Isabella looked shocked at Kyle's response. They didn't expect it. Neither did I. Truly magnanimous!

"But if you lose, execution on the spot. Fitting punishment for your deeds?"

"Even if I win, won't I die anyway?"

"Of course."

He's saying that, but just win the debate and it's fine. Not wiping out three generations but just execution? Truly magnanimous.

Under the moonlight, two illusions stood sword-to-sword. What a ridiculously idiotic air duel fantasy.

I don't know why we're doing this moronic sword debate under the moon, but if I'm gonna be a moron, better be a surviving one.

Two spectators. Two duelists.

"I'll use Imperial Swordsmanship."

"I'll use Logres Swordsmanship."

Kyle pulled out not the royal secret arts, but standard Imperial Swordsmanship any knight learns. Makes sense. You can't rattle off unknown techniques and say "I win suddenly" without expecting a "how's your family?" Or demo it, so no family secrets in debates.

Not law, just game rules. As prince, he could cheat, no one would complain. But he doesn't, proving his seriousness about sword debate. That's why I picked it.

Logres Swordsmanship isn't a secret either; prince knows it well.

Both Sword User realm. Both swords.

The magnanimous one stroked his chin, pondering.

"I'll yield the first move."

"I won't hold back."

As expected, he yields first strike. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even in-game, Kyle always did.

Alright then. Like in the game. Details from Ian's memories...

"I'll step into Jeonggak stance, infuse power, and use Logres Swordsmanship: Cheom Geom Shik."

The two illusions clashing swords. Mine straightens and thrusts.

But.

"Step into Jeonggak, use Recko Sekare to parry the thrust upward, then overhead slash."

The prince's illusion parries the thrust, disrupting posture, and slashes down.

However.

"Using the recoil from Your Highness's Recko Sekare, spin once, then use Gang Geom Shik to sweep low in a big arc, knocking Your Highness's sword aside."

My illusion rides the up-parry, spins, draws a semicircle, batting the descending blade.

Now the prince's posture crumbles. He frowns.

"Mid guard, step back two paces."

"I won't miss. Jeonggak again, Gang Geom Shik targeting Your Highness's blade flat."

Prince's illusion regains stance, handle at waist, blade angled up, steps back two. But mine steps Jeonggak, grips two-handed, horizontal power slash at the flat.

He planned a thrust counter, but raising hand exposes wrist. Checkmate.

"Rego Pungo to clash your blade and block, then immediate thrust."

Prince's chooses clash. Rotates blade 90 degrees, blocks incoming, chains thrust.

But.

"Jeonggak to prevent full deflection, use Yu Geom Shik to stick to the blade, then upward flick."

Mine anticipates, Jeonggak anchors. Blades don't separate fully; Yu Geom Shik smoothly flicks the thrusting blade up.

Prince's posture collapses.

"High guard to protect body."

"Hwan Geom Shik to disrupt."

"Can't chase every phantom, so Cado Ardor to bat away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all visible blades."

Pour Hwan Geom Shik on high guard prince; he bats all seeming attacks instead of picking one.

Fierce clashes, illusions panting roughly.

"Step back two, catch breath."

"I'll step back one, catch breath."

Even illusions get breaks. We'd look like idiots to onlookers, but rest is crucial in sword debate.

"My turn first."

"Come."

From there, back-and-forth. Really just moronic mouth fighters' banquet.

But prince's patterns matched the game perfectly. Following in-game counters blocked everything.

Frustrating to get stonewalled, and as prince he could've cheated. But Kyle never did. Instead, enjoying it, probing my moves seriously, layering counters.

Blocked? Prep next. Which got blocked. This was his losing game. Rigid patterns I'd seen a million times.

Counter his pattern, done. Still, fucking tense. Hands soaked in sweat. Mouth dry, can't swallow.

One slip, and I'm stargazing for real.

How many exchanges later?

"Sloppy. No need for technique, just thrust."

"Side roll dodge."

"No noble dignity?"

"Facing Your Highness, dignity's out the window."

The refined debate devolved into chaos. No choice. Win or die.

Force through vs. never let through. Illusions clash endlessly.

And as blocks piled up, logic stalled, Kyle's mask cracked.

Even in mere wordplay, not real steel. He used everything, amused. I dismantled each.

Childishly, he scooped snow, threw at me. I caught, threw back. Juvenile, fun sword debate. Idiotic, relieving banter.

Prince felt it. Me? Fuck. Do I have hyperhidrosis? Hands drenched.

Innumerable clashes raced to end.

My illusion's arm severed by Kyle's sword. Then Yuk Cham Gol Dan, his chest pierced by mine.

"Predicted Yuk Cham Gol Dan, but at Sword Aura level, no way to deflect this."

Finally, Kyle's illusion drops sword.

"Never thought I'd say it, but your victory. Ian de Logres."

Defeated, but his face serene. Like he'd had fun after ages.

"Learned a lot, Your Highness Kyle de Astoria."

Notifications blared nonstop. But I didn't see them. Fuck yeah! I won the long, lonely fight—!!

I just wanted to throw my hands up and cheer.

But.

You fucking—!