Chapter 24
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: The Duel Arena (1)
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The day of the honor duel had dawned.
"It's finally here."
The White estate felt a bit different from usual, with the fateful battle looming ahead.
The two sisters stood by the carriage, dressed in their most ornate and elegant clothes and accessories.
Clothing and jewelry were key to making a first impression.
So today, with spectators including nobles flocking from all over Northway, they had to look their best.
Brick, clad in gleaming polished breastplate, scanned the surroundings with an unusually solemn and grave gaze.
"Where is Sir Blake?"
One of the servants tentatively raised a hand.
"I saw him heading to the kitchen earlier."
"The kitchen?"
Brick furrowed one brow at the cautious reply from the kitchen maid.
"Yes. It seemed like he was picking up what he asked us to prepare last night."
"Prepare? What did he ask for?"
"Smoked pork ham, jerky, and dried vegetables. About two weeks' worth..."
"Hmm."
Brick swallowed a grunt.
Smoked ham and jerky were foods for long journeys.
Preparing and taking them on the day of the duel meant...
"Th-there he comes."
Everyone turned at someone's words.
Blake was approaching on foot, leading his horse with a combat pack strapped to the saddle.
"Leaving now?"
"Yes. By the way, I hear you had them prepare jerky and dried veggies... You don't plan to leave right after the duel, do you?"
Brick asked, half hoping he was wrong.
"I'll leave as soon as the duel ends."
Blake nodded curtly, mounted his horse, and gazed at the group with his usual impassive face.
As if wondering why they weren't leaving yet, completely nonchalant.
But the others couldn't stay nonchalant.
Because of what his words implied after the duel.
The man before them hadn't even the tiniest doubt about winning.
"Not going?"
Blake's brow twitched once, and Brick flinched, hurriedly nodding.
"N-no. We're going now. Please, get in the carriage."
"Ah, yes."
The White sisters snapped to attention at Brick's words and boarded the carriage.
Their faces, filled with anxiety and tension moments ago, were now slightly flushed.
Thanks to Blake's words, delivered so matter-of-factly that questioning them would seem odd.
But Mia's expression was complicated.
She hoped they'd reach the point where Blake could leave safely as he said, after the duel.
Yet his cold resolve to depart without a backward glance tugged at her.
"Hyah!"
The carriage slowly pulled away from the entrance.
"Come back safe!"
"Sir Carlson, ladies, you must win!"
"Sniff!"
Leaving the tearful farewells of the remaining servants behind, the carriage and horses crossed the garden on the cusp of budding leaves.
The fragile young ladies, the family's sole knight, and the group—including a capital knight and an imperial army veteran fighting in their stead—departed the estate.
Dunfries' central crossroads, site of the fateful duel, lay far below.
"What in the world is going on?"
"Yeah, even more than yesterday?"
"Heavens! Clear Brightness Festival is something else. Heh!"
With the village's two inns and pubs bursting since last night, Dunfries residents were bewildered yet thrilled.
Even during Northway's biggest festival season, the Clear Brightness Festival, crowds from nearby and distant lands were exciting.
But the locals couldn't just rejoice.
The White Family, long their neighbors, might be exiled from Northway forever today.
Yet oblivious to their worries, a rowdy middle-aged man held court at a central pub table, heat swirling around him.
"Come on, bet! White or Lancaster! Lancaster or White! Family win odds, individual duel odds! Better rates than at the arena later! Starting at one silver coin! Bet away!"
Silver coins flew from all sides.
This honor duel—life-or-death stakes for some—was mere gambling entertainment for others, a sad yet fervent scene.
"Hope we see some fine knights."
"Rumor has it a Blue Falcon Knight is coming..."
"There he is, Sir Pring!"
The wealthy elite claimed second-floor seats overlooking the arena.
Men and women in splendid attire peered curiously or chatted busily.
"One gold on the Lancaster final warrior's victory!"
"Woo!"
Men cheered a lavish bet.
One second-floor guest smiled and turned to his companions.
"Someone bet gold on you. How about telling them you'll fight hard?"
Hiding from eyes under hoods in the corner, they were young Blue Falcon Knights.
"Aw, bro—no, acting captain."
Roderick teased, and Craig scratched his head sheepishly.
But his expression showed he didn't mind. He seemed eager, even.
Jonathan noticed and said coolly,
"What, you wanna bet too?"
"Betting on myself would be weird, right?"
"I'll bet. Five gold on Lancaster's final warrior—you. Lose, and the Blue Falcon's honor and my money go down the drain. You'll fight harder."
"Eep!"
Craig shut up, chastened.
But he soon regained his confident grin.
"Don't worry. I'll win for sure."
"You'd better. But worry more about that Northernrocks veteran reaching you."
"Oh! Forgot about that."
Craig tilted his head, then smacked his forehead.
In family honor duels, fighters went one by one; losers retired, winners stayed until defeated.
If the Northernrocks veteran fought first for White, he might lose before Craig's turn.
"What now?"
Craig turned to friend Elliott with a pout.
"Pathetic. Think a family stakes honor on a proxy first?"
"Elliott's right. The veteran and capital knight will be second or last. Even with proxies, first and last are usually family. Speaking of, Lancaster not here yet?"
"No. Left this morning—should arrive soon. But facing a failing house, aren't they too lax?"
Unlike Lancaster Baron and knights departing today, they'd prepared a day early.
"Maybe since our two advanced. That guy's fighting too?"
At Roderick's nod toward the window, eyes turned.
"Kuhahaha! Why are the Whites so late? Not hoping I pass out drunk?"
Across from their pub, a fierce-looking man at another second-floor window guzzled from a bottle, bellowing.
"Northway's Mad Axe Steven."
Jonathan eyed Steven coldly.
"Fits his looks. Drinking before a life-or-death duel?"
"Putting that guy in an honor duel... Lancaster Baron's lost it."
Craig and Elliott scorned him too.
"Really? Could be. But you don't know one thing about him."
"What?"
The juniors' eyes widened.
Roderick smiled, nodding to Jonathan, who replied stiffly.
"He's one of the first Northernrocks veterans from serious criminals who served full term last year."
"No way!"
"Yes. Fled Northway with two comrades, picked a fight with mercenaries in a pub. Killed seven alone with an axe. Captured after, but Lancaster bailed him with money."
"Whoa."
They gawked anew at Steven.
The vulgar brute groping a nearly bare-chested whore was a Northernrocks veteran—shocking.
"Killing seven northern mercs at once? No small feat. Supposedly did quarry labor for a year, but obviously he was killing Lancaster's rivals' swordsmen and mercs."
No way he quarried.
He'd slain foes for Lancaster.
"So stronger than those at Lancaster estate. Likely sent because he's their best."
"Whew! So the veteran I might face is at least that level?"
Craig whistled dramatically, glancing around.
But his face stayed playful—full of confidence.
"At least."
Roderick nodded, still smiling.
The others agreed.
Mad Axe? Craig could handle him, no doubt.
"Wow!"
The pub outside grew uproarious.
Craig jumped up, tossed his hood, and peered out.
"Make way! Clear the path!"
Lancaster's procession was impressive.
Two knights in ornate armor on white steeds led with lances bearing the family banner, followed by knights with longswords and shields.
Dozens of gray-breasted swordsmen escorted a lavish six-horse carriage fit for lords—twice normal size, gleaming gold everywhere.
"Tch."
Roderick, hating ostentation, clicked his tongue.
"Look at that carriage. Tacky."
"What can you do? Lowborn roots. But he'll play nice upfront. Useful man."
"Got it."
The knights nodded.
Lancaster's carriage halted.
Screech!
The baron and retainers disembarked.
Then Nolford's administrator, and Viscount Noel's family head—Nolford's venerable reps.
"Ah, Sir Swent, waiting already!"
Spotting Roderick en route to the arena, Lancaster beamed and hurried over.
"Baron, Administrator."
Roderick greeted them knightly.
"Pleased, Sir Swent."
Their faces lit with satisfaction.
A promising young knight's bow delighted elders.
"This way to the platform."
Lancaster led Roderick and observers to a stage near the arena.
Head seat: Nolford Administrator, duel overseer.
Flanks: Lancaster Baron, Viscount Noel, Roderick.
Lancaster knights and swordsmen marched crisply, guarding the stage.
Splendid, imposing display.
"Impressive, eh? Decent lineup?"
Lancaster probed the administrator slyly.
"Hm. True Lancaster swordsmen. Keep aiding local security."
The admin stroked his beard approvingly.
"Of course. We'll support Nolford's growth endlessly. Just say the word."
"Ha! Your words reassure me. Right, Viscount Noel?"
"Indeed. Sir Lancaster truly serves Nolford and Northway—a noble man."
Viscount Noel, thriving on Lancaster's backing, smiled in agreement.
'So predictable.'
Roderick shook his head inwardly but smiled calmly.
Then a voice pierced the milling crowd.
"Whites! White Family's here!"
Roderick's gaze flashed there.
'Ho?'
His eyes widened slightly.
Spotting the burly man on horseback behind their carriage.
(To be continued next time)