Do Not Interfere with the Duel (8)
With events unfolding this way, there was no longer any need for Roy to step forward himself.
The prince was every bit as furious as Roy, and it was plain that this summer would prove far colder than usual for those vermin.
Even so, the prince could not keep the gathered crowd waiting forever while he scolded the culprits. He decided to bring matters to a swift close.
His declaration followed.
"…Yet in my judgment, the outcome of the duel itself was unaffected. On this, Dame Daisy, Instructor Sem, and I are all in complete agreement. Does anyone object?"
No hands rose.
Roy’s strength had been that overwhelming—even against a scion of the mighty Biswald Margraviate.
"Therefore, upon the name of Aron Steelhart, I hereby declare the true victor of today’s duel. The winner is, without question, Roy Greenhilt standing here before us!"
—Waaaaaah!!
Applause and cheers erupted.
From a results-oriented view, the situation could not have been better for Roy. The entire sequence of events that day had become the perfect stage for elevating his reputation—far more effective than the cheap performance he had been half-heartedly putting on.
Even with someone secretly interfering, he had seized an overwhelming victory over the margrave’s grandson, who was two years his senior. Such rumors would begin spreading through the city and beyond that very night.
Some time passed after the duel.
The prince and the instructors vanished somewhere with the vermin in tow. The spectators likewise streamed out of the academy grounds in a noisy throng.
Many clearly wanted to approach Roy and speak with him first, but the prince had cast a pointed look that forbade it, sparing Roy the trouble.
He’s tired today—no one is to bother him. That single word from the highest authority carried real weight.
Of course, the true motive was slightly different. The royal faction was simply moving first to keep other nobles from snatching at Roy’s techniques. Whatever the hidden meaning, thanks to the prince Roy was able to slip quietly out of the training ground without annoyance.
Naturally, his acquaintances paid no heed to the prince’s warning. Once everything settled, they came forward of their own accord to congratulate him on the victory.
First was Noah.
Summoned mid-duel, the spirit still remained visible. There was no longer any need to hide him—Roy had already revealed his use of a spirit to the entire world during the bout.
"Has your anger cooled at last?"
"Noah… I didn’t even notice you were here. Stick close. People keep staring at you."
"Shouldn’t I be moving farther away if people are looking? Heh. You’ve grown quite a bit yourself."
"What are you talking about? It’s only been six months since we contracted. Grow how? Keep talking nonsense and I’ll forcibly dismiss you."
"It was a joke. Just a joke."
"Anyway, thank you. Thanks to your power, I won the duel easily. Without you it wouldn’t have been so simple."
"If you truly think so, don’t just say it—show it with actions."
"Actions? You want mana or something?"
"Not that. Do you take me for a pig? Right here. Here."
Noah seized Roy’s hand and planted it atop his own head, demanding to be stroked at once. There was no reason to refuse after all that. Roy lightly ruffled Noah’s hair as he spoke.
"So wash properly, will you? That itch is all from bugs."
"What! How dare you. I am perfectly clean. Take your hand away. Hmph!"
Noah’s lips jutted out in a pout.
Just then Chloe came running. Behind her followed Anna and Jack, and even someone unexpected.
"Noaaaah!"
"Chloeooo."
The two embraced fiercely, after which Chloe unilaterally began petting Noah all over. Noah clearly enjoyed the enthusiastic hands with his whole body. It was hard to tell who the actual contractor was.
Roy, however, was more surprised by the man standing behind Anna.
"Grandfather? You said you weren’t coming."
"Hahaha. How was I supposed to endure the curiosity? More importantly, what in the world has become of you? Are you truly my grandson? No—whose blood did you inherit to become this strong?"
"People can hear you. Whose bloodline? If Father hears that, he’ll abandon the territory and come running."
"Kwahaha. This brat takes after someone, all right—he talks far too well. Ah, I feel wonderful. To think you would overwhelm that damned… ahem… that Biswald margrave’s bloodline. This old man thought his heart would stop."
"What kind of joke is that… But Grandfather, will we be all right? There won’t be pressure on the territory or anything, will there?"
"Hmm? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you held back from the start because you were worrying about that? A child like you has no need to concern yourself. That slippery snake won’t change his attitude over a children’s fight."
Pressure from the margrave’s side had always existed. This duel would not alter the situation, he said.
"More than that, never in my life have I felt so refreshed. Kwahaha. Well done, well done!"
Watching Terry so unusually excited, Roy guessed that during his grandfather’s days as family head and lord of Greenhilt territory, the man had suffered quite a bit under the margrave’s pressure.
"Stop laughing so much. People are staring. What will you do if the Biswald family summons you tomorrow?"
"What? They wouldn’t dare. They have their pride too. And even if they call, I’m not going. I’m already retired. If they call, you go."
"I’m not going either. We’ll send Father. He’s the current lord, after all."
"What? Kwahahaha! Your father has produced one fine son. Hahahaha!"
Terry was a free-spirited, carefree grandfather, yet hearing that hearty laughter somehow made every worry melt away.
"Roy, good work. Someone like me isn’t even a match for you anymore."
Anna wore a complicated expression—proud, envious, and a little lonely all at once. Barely a year ago they had been nearly equal in swordsmanship. That little brother had suddenly grown beyond her reach. For an older sister by one year, the feelings were complex indeed.
"Is that so? Looking purely at sword skill, Anna is probably stronger than that James fellow."
"That’s nonsense… Forget it. That doesn’t make me happy at all."
"I’m serious."
Roy recalled how Anna had seemed full of worries lately. Joining the research lab as an assistant had helped somewhat, yet ever since his arrival in the capital she sometimes wore a lonely look.
He thought, The time has come, hasn’t it.
She was exactly that age. Her once-fiery personality was gradually growing calmer; his guess was surely correct.
The stormy period of adolescence!
Please let it pass quietly. She won’t run away from home and refuse to come back, will she? Wait—what about me? Nah, I won’t be like that. I still have all my past-life memories, so…
While Roy fretted over useless things, Jack spoke up.
"As expected, Lord Roy is amazing."
"Lord? Well, fine. Call me whatever’s comfortable."
Considering my mental age, telling Jack to speak casually does feel a bit awkward.
"Yes. Then I’ll keep calling you Lord Roy. Somehow this way feels more comfortable and reassuring. But… Lord Roy, what will happen to those guys now?"
"Who? The vermin?"
"Yes."
"In my opinion they’ll be expelled from the Knight Academy first. They might be confined to their territory for life and forbidden to leave. In the worst case their family titles could be stripped. Well, their house has ample mana, so it probably won’t go that far. At least no sparks will fly toward your family. Everyone knows you’ve been sticking close to me; if word of any retaliation reached the royal family, that would be the end of their entire house."
What those bastards had done was beyond the scale of forgiveness. They had insulted not only the prince but every noble who had come to watch the duel. Young as they were, it was more than enough grounds for their titles to be revoked.
It’s no different from barging into a banquet I hosted and trying to poison me. I simply didn’t fall for the poison.
Had the prince not been there, Roy would have killed every last one of them. Depending on the punishment that was handed down, he might still carry it out.
"I see…"
"Was that what you were worried about?"
"Ah, no. Not really. Anyway, thank you so much. It’s all thanks to you, Lord Roy. You’ve even let me earn a lot of money. I think you’re truly a kind person."
"Ugh, please stop with that sappy talk from a guy—it’s disgusting. I’m not kind; I’m strong. And rich. Got it? Don’t try to become a kind person. Try to become a strong one. And pile up a mountain of money! That way when you become lord of your territory, your family will have real power."
"L-Lord? I have no such thoughts… My older brothers will handle that. Someone like me couldn’t possibly…"
"Is that so? Well, whoever it is. Ah, let’s drop this subject."
Chatting about this and that, they were about to climb into the carriages waiting at one side of the school grounds when someone who had arrived ahead of them was waiting for Roy.
"Lord Daniel…?"
"Roy. Congratulations. You always show me something that far exceeds my imagination."
"……"
Roy had half-feared the boy might demand a duel for his nephew’s revenge. Thankfully he did not, yet the words he ultimately spoke were not especially substantial either.
"I will take you as my example and grow even further. I still have no spirit of my own, so I was startled seeing yours. To think there existed a spirit that quickens casting speed."
Daniel’s gaze shifted to Noah, who was still being hugged tightly by Chloe behind them. For some reason Roy did not want to show the spirit to this boy. He casually shifted his body to block the line of sight.
"Don’t overdo it. My spirit is a monster that devours an enormous amount of mana."
"I see. Thank you for the advice. I will train diligently every day while waiting for the day we settle things. Until then, do not lose to anyone, Roy."
"Ah, yes…"
Watching Daniel turn on his heel after saying only what he wanted and stride away with complete confidence left Roy with a strange feeling. Were all ordinary eleven- or twelve-year-old boys of great noble houses like that?
Today he had learned something new: Daniel was hiding something inside his body. Comparing the boy’s mana with James’s, the difference was several times over.
They inherited the same bloodline—why?
James was only on the level of a marquis house’s children. Daniel, however, possessed several times that amount of mana.
Could it be… he drank it too? Or is he a mutant?
At first Roy had assumed the Biswald bloodline itself held several times more mana than a marquis house. That was wrong. Only that boy—Daniel Biswald—clearly possessed something special.
If that fellow knows some other secret of the Dragon’s Breath, or is connected to it somehow… Ha, this is driving me crazy.
He would have to get close to someone like that just to extract information? Roy absolutely did not want to. Somehow that type simply did not suit him.
The more I look at him, the more he resembles that guy.
In his previous life there had been one person of a similar personality—a fellow who acted as though he alone possessed all justice and would vanquish every evil in the world.
The hero, Carl.
For some reason, whenever Roy looked at the boy named Daniel Biswald, that figure kept overlapping with him.