Do Not Interfere with the Duel (6)
It was an evil they never would have dared attempt alone.
But because not two, but a full five of them had gathered, their guilt blurred and their sense of wrong dulled to nothing.
And so the day of the duel arrived.
"Wh-what? What the hell is that guy?"
While the duel raged on, every spectator’s eyes locked on the fight, the five vermin huddled together in one corner and whispered among themselves.
No one was watching them now.
"This is insane. Who would’ve thought Lord James would get beaten so one-sidedly…"
"At this rate, won’t our whole plan go up in smoke?"
"Shh! Don’t talk so loud, you idiot!"
Watching James take a unilateral thrashing from Roy, they fretted that everything they had prepared might collapse into failure.
Then, without warning, the tide reversed.
As if wringing out every last drop of strength, James launched his counterattack.
Even so, victory still looked impossible.
"Just do it. What we talked about yesterday."
"What?"
"Let’s do it. There’s no other chance. If Lord James loses like this, that bastard is the only one who gets famous! Even if we can’t kill him, we should at least humiliate him, right? Priest on standby or instructor trying to stop it—none of that matters. If he takes that crimson flame head-on, his whole body will burn. Even if he survives, the scars will stay. Every last hair will burn off too."
"Fine. Let’s do it. No one will notice. Everyone’s distracted right now."
"If we’re doing it, hurry. At this rate he really will lose."
Inside the temporary tent where James had waited before the duel, the vermin began chanting magic spells in unison.
"Just finish the casting. Don’t activate it yet."
Vermin Number One, the first to complete his spell, spoke.
"Don’t tell me what to do! I already know!"
"Always so full of yourself. What’s so hard about Psychic Bind anyway?"
Psychic Bind.
A basic non-attribute spell, extremely effective at sealing a target’s movement while remaining hidden from other eyes.
The target was only one: Roy Greenhilt.
Even if that mutant brat possessed more mana than a baron house—or even more than the viscount houses of Vermin One and Two—when five of them struck at once, he would never break free easily.
They timed it carefully.
Only one chance.
They had to release it the instant James’s fire spirit unleashed its flames upon Roy.
Now!
Hah!
Die, you bastard!
Just as Roy moved to dodge the crimson flames of the fire spirit, the vermin’s Psychic Bind activated at the same moment—and his body locked rigid in an instant.
Yes!
Take that, you damn Greenhilt.
Burn black, you idiot!
Revenge for the horse dung!
They were certain their plan had succeeded.
The upper-rank fire spirit Prominence’s crimson flames swallowed Roy’s entire body in a heartbeat.
"Pff!"
"Shh! Quiet, idiot."
"Heh heh heh."
But then—
"…!?"
"…!?"
Just as laughter threatened to burst free in triumph, a fierce light erupted from Roy’s flame-engulfed form.
The crimson fire that had wrapped the boy vanished without a trace.
As Roy’s figure slowly emerged from the dying flames, the crowd could only stare in absolute shock.
Far from being charred black, not a single scorch mark could be found. His clothes were untouched. Though no one had counted, not a single strand of hair seemed burned.
But the boy’s expression was twisted into something terrifying.
Killing intent.
And that gaze turned straight toward the temporary tent of pure white cloth—more precisely, toward the vermin who had cast Psychic Bind.
Straight at them.
Roy was genuinely dumbfounded.
He had been hit dead-on by crimson flames he had fully expected to dodge.
In a single instant, three precious amulets had expended their power.
If I hadn’t had the amulets, I might have been roasted whole…
Using his Golden Eyes, Roy instantly understood what had been done to his body.
Psychic Bind.
And not a light one—a powerful casting packed with an excessive flood of mana, as if they had poured everything they had into it.
I expected something, but… daring to do this during a sacred duel…
Scanning the surroundings with his Golden Eyes, he soon locked onto the culprits who had cast the spell.
Rage surged up inside him.
These vermin-like bastards had crossed the line by a mile.
You lot need a thrashing.
Roy flooded mana through his entire body.
The five-layered Psychic Bind holding him simply shattered and fell away.
Even if mere baron- or viscount-level trash poured out every drop of strength they possessed, the current Roy far exceeded the mana capacity of a count’s bloodline. Releasing this much was nothing.
Even I can’t forgive this.
Roy raised his voice so the entire arena could hear.
"Interfering with a sacred duel, you vermin bastards!"
When Roy, mid-duel, suddenly shouted while staring in a completely different direction, every gaze that had been frozen in shock at his unscathed emergence from the flames now wandered in confusion.
Why is he doing that?
What just happened?
How is he fine after being swallowed by that fireball?
I’ve never seen that magic before—does a defensive spell like that even exist?
Roy continued without pause.
"Come out right now! Or I’ll cut every last one of your throats on this very spot!"
While the crowd reeled in confusion at the enraged boy’s roar, one person alone felt something entirely different.
"What the hell is he doing? Showing his back during a duel… Ugh! Don’t ignore meeee!"
James, too, had been shocked when Roy walked out of the flames unharmed, but having watched from so close he understood the reason.
Amulets.
If the boy wore amulets that could be obtained only rarely from ancient dungeons, he could have survived the searing flames once.
Having grown up in a margrave house, James possessed solid knowledge of such ancient relics.
But that’s only once. He won’t block the next attack.
Furious that Roy had turned his back, James poured even more mana into the spirit and sent it forward.
A curtain of fire rose from the earth.
Three fireballs followed.
Roy dodged every one of them with almost casual ease.
The cheap theatrics end here.
So he would never again fall for a shallow trick like Psychic Bind, he expanded the focus that had been locked solely on James until it covered the entire spectator stands.
Still weaving between fireballs, Roy turned his head back toward James.
"Don’t tell me you pulled this dirty trick because you thought you’d lose to me? Were you in on it too, James Biswald!"
"What the hell are you talking about!?"
"Doesn’t matter. From the moment you challenged me after listening to those bastards, you were already trash. Whether you agreed with them or were just stupid enough to be used, you’re the same vermin."
"Shut up!"
Roy clenched his teeth hard.
To completely ruin the flashy debut I planned in front of the great nobles…
And he shouted again.
"How are you going to make this right, you vermin bastards!"
A massive tide of mana covering Roy’s entire body boiled over.
Filled with rage, the boy abandoned every thought of efficiency.
With the intent to burn every last drop of mana if necessary, he dragged out all the power he had kept hidden.
He tore off his protective goggles and flung them aside.
They meant nothing now.
The boy’s eyes blazed with a fiercer golden light than ever before.
Rapid Arthema.
In a single breath, one spell was complete.
"The duel ends here. James."
With those words he activated the magic.
Shuuuuuu—
The air around them was violently sucked into a single point.
That point was directly in front of James.
It was the same magic Chloe had once used on her drunken older brother.
The compressed air, gathered into one point, exploded at Roy’s signal.
—Bang!
A tremendous shockwave hurled James’s entire body backward.
"Keheuk!"
Ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters… he flew dozens of meters before crashing hard onto the ground.
James lay there, already unconscious.
The spectators could not close their mouths.
And they understood.
That boy could have ended this duel long ago.
He had been holding back the entire time.
Silence hung for a while.
It did not last long.
"Lord Jameees!"
Someone in the stands ran out toward James, voice breaking.
A few others followed close behind.
Family? A lover?
No one could say, but they were clearly connected to the Biswalds.
After a brief hesitation, Referee Sam Tomlinson also sprinted forward.
If James had died, the duel could have been ruled Roy’s loss.
Meanwhile the rest of the crowd kept their eyes fixed on the boy left alone in the center of the training ground.
Then someone stood and began to clap.
Others followed, palms striking together.
A small cheer rose after that.
Waaaaaah—!
The roar swelled until the entire training ground seemed ready to shake apart.
"H-he really won! A baron’s son beat the Biswald boy!"
"What’s that kid’s name? What was the family?"
"Greenhilt."
"Greenhilt? Isn’t that the second-largest granary region in the kingdom? What a blessed house. No worries about food, and now a talent like this appears."
"Not just margrave level. He could threaten even marquises—maybe even a ducal house…"
"Ahem. Watch your tongue. His Highness the Prince is present."
Eyes soon shifted to Sam, who had gone to check whether James still lived, and to Professor Daisy the observer and the prince who had watched everything unfold.
But only for a moment.
Because the boy left alone in the center began walking, step by deliberate step, in one direction.
Srrring—!
He even drew the sword he had kept sheathed until now.
As the boy reached the tent, the crowd began to wonder what could possibly be there that drove him like this.
"Wh-what is he doing?"
"Didn’t he say earlier that someone interfered with the duel?"
The sword in the boy’s hand began to radiate pure white light.
It was the Aura Blade he had already displayed during the fight.
"Wh-what? What’s he trying to do?"
"Is someone over there?"
"That guy looks like he’s going to kill someone. Golden eyes—why the hell are his eyes like that?"
Then the boy raised his voice once more.
"You vermin bastards… Can’t you come out right now!"