Chapter 25
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: The Duel Arena (2)
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The crowd on one side of the square parted like the receding tide, and a carriage drawn by two horses pulled up in front of the duel arena.
Brick, his eyes dignified and stern, opened the door, and the sisters from the White Family stepped down from the carriage.
Beside them stood Lindelmann, head held high, and Blake, his hood pulled low.
"Ho! Is that the young knight from the capital?"
"Handsome—quite good-looking, isn't he?"
"Yeah. Oh my!"
As exclamations of admiration rose from maidens and women here and there, Lindelmann puffed out his chest to the fullest.
"What! Just a pretty boy—wonder if he can even hold a sword properly?"
"Uahaha!"
Laughter erupted at someone's jeer, and Lindelmann's face twisted in an instant.
At that moment, Blake stepped down beside him.
"Huh!"
"Ooh! Big... huge!"
People's eyes went wide at the sheer size of Blake revealed the moment he dismounted.
On top of that, the massive demon-slaying sword slung across his saddle was more than enough to draw every gaze.
"Can he even swing a sword that big?"
"With that build, it seems possible..."
"Nah! Wild swinging's one thing—proper swordsmanship is another."
As the crowd buzzed, Brick and the two girls headed toward the observers' platform, while Blake and Lindelmann took their places in the White Family's warrior waiting area.
Paying no mind to the stares fixed on him, Blake turned his half-hooded face toward the duel arena.
The arena, fifteen meters across on each side, was constructed from sturdy timber piled a meter high.
A two-meter-wide trench had been dug around it like a moat to keep spectators at bay, filled with a muddy slurry of last night's brief rain and filth.
Blake couldn't fathom why they'd set up a separate venue just to fight with weapons.
Whatever the case, with the arena in that state, it looked like victory would come down to raw power and skill alone.
Having surveyed the arena, he shifted his gaze to the Lancaster Family's warrior waiting area.
Three men were there, checking their armor and weapons or loosening up.
'Hmm?'
The one hefting a pair of massive battle axes looked somehow familiar.
But just as he tried to recall—
"...!"
A strange sensation hit him in that instant, and Blake whipped his head around.
His eyes locked precisely with a pair of purple irises emitting a faint glow amid the sea of onlookers.
A flicker of interest sparked in Blake's otherwise impassive gaze.
'Not bad. A real fighter.'
It was the first opponent worthy of the title "warrior" he'd encountered since leaving the fortress.
Even so, Blake quickly lost interest and turned away.
There was no reason to dwell on someone who wasn't a battlefield foe or his actual opponent.
But the man with the purple eyes—the one Blake had deemed "pretty strong"—thought differently.
"What's wrong, sir?"
Jonathan cautiously asked Roderick, who had suddenly gone silent and was staring piercingly at one spot.
"......"
But Roderick gave no reply.
He sat motionless, like a statue, eyes fixed on that single point.
"Captain proxy."
Feeling something off, Jonathan called again, and only then did Roderick speak.
"Looks like I made a mistake."
"Pardon?"
"Sending out Craig. Might've been the wrong call."
"Hmm!"
Sensing something ominous in Roderick's demeanor, Jonathan narrowed his eyes and glanced toward the arena.
"That one."
Following Roderick's chin gesture, Jonathan peered sharply in that direction.
"Hmm?"
Jonathan's eyes widened slightly.
A hulking figure stood there, two heads taller than those around him, hood pulled deep over his face.
"No way that's..."
"The discharged soldier we've been looking for."
"Mm."
Jonathan tilted his head as he scrutinized the deeply hooded giant.
He was certainly massive, with an aura all his own—but not to the point Craig couldn't handle him.
"What do you mean by 'mistake'?"
"Craig might have a tough time. First one since Franz Eleanor of Blackcastle two years back to give me this kind of presence and tension."
"Hah!"
Jonathan let out an involuntary gasp.
Franz Eleanor of the Blackcastle Knights—an elite southern swordmaster Roderick had only defeated after nearly a hundred exchanges.
For a mere discharged soldier to evoke a similar vibe was astonishing.
"That level?"
"Exactly. You'd need to be around your caliber to have a real shot."
"Hmm!"
A soldier from Northernrocks, no matter his origins, matching Jonathan's skill? It was hard to swallow amid the shock.
But...
Blake was oblivious to the scrutiny—and he wasn't even someone he might have to fight right away.
"No way? Nah, can't be. Fuck! It can't be, but..."
Steven, who had been laughing uproariously moments ago, now muttered low, eyes narrowed to slits.
His gaze kept flicking toward the White Family's warrior waiting area across the way.
"Know him or something...?"
Duff ventured cautiously, noting Steven's uncharacteristically intense stare—far from his usual bulging-eyed glower.
"Shut your trap, you idiot! Can't you see I'm checking?"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Duff shrank back as Steven barked.
"Fuck! The hood's hiding his face. Damn! No way. Shit! If it is him, we're screwed..."
As Steven muttered like a madman, the procedures for the honor duel proceeded smoothly.
Pam-ppa-ba-bom!
"Woooaaah!"
A jaunty trumpet fanfare blared, and as the banners of both families rose, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Ooh! Starting now?"
"Hope the handsome knight goes first."
Young and old, men and women alike stared at the arena and the duelists lined up on either side with feverish excitement.
"Wahahahaha!"
From the Lancaster waiting area, a knight in breastplate, armed with a knight's longsword and shield, burst into confident laughter as he strode out.
He was one of the knights who had been riding just ahead of Baron Lancaster's carriage.
"Sir Billett Owen!"
"Big Billett for the first bout!"
Cheers and gasps exploded everywhere as Billett—one of Baron Lancaster's top hires for raw power—appeared.
But the cheers soon petered out awkwardly.
The White Family warrior hadn't emerged.
"What?"
"Why isn't he coming out?"
"What's White doing?!"
The crowd vented their frustration.
But the White Family members could barely register the discontented shouts.
"Wh-what did you say?"
Blake replied flatly to the stammering Brick.
"That I'm going first."
"Huh!"
"No way! Mr. Blake, you should go second or last."
Mia shook her head frantically, and Lindelmann chimed in agreement.
"Exactly, Blake. As our strongest, you need to go later to maximize our win chances."
"The terms said you follow my instructions on duel matters. So I'm going first."
"Why, though?"
As everyone fell silent, Brick pressed urgently.
Blake, already gripping a pair of shortclubs in both hands, answered matter-of-factly.
"I want to leave as soon as possible."
"...!"
While they all flinched in shock, he strode purposefully toward the arena.
Too stunned to stop him, his companions gaped after his retreating figure.
Leave as soon as possible.
That meant...
"He plans to take them all down solo."
"Ha... haha!"
Brick let out a hollow laugh at Lindelmann's mutter.
"Ooh! The big guy's first!"
"Woooaaah!"
The crowd's cheers exploded at Blake's entrance, quickly reigniting the arena's feverish atmosphere.
"Ah..."
The White Family stared at the arena, their faces darkening to dismay.
Blake stood before his opponent knight, slowly swinging his arms to limber up.
There was no turning back now.
"What's your name?"
"Blake."
He didn't get why someone coming to fight would ask for a name, but Blake answered readily enough.
"So you're the discharged soldier who turned Jude into a half-cripple. One bit of advice since I had a hunch: don't get full of yourself just for beating a punk like Jude."
Billett puffed up arrogantly.
Blake raised one hand and twitched a shortclub.
"I'm busy. Come at me."
"You little—? Fine! If death's your wish, I'll grant it!"
Furious, Billett slammed his helmet down.
He angled his body, raised his shield, and drew his sword back.
A textbook shield-sword ready stance.
"Ooh! Here we go!"
With Administrator Nolfold—the lead observer—now raising his hand, the duel would begin at the trumpet's blast. The crowd's anticipation peaked.
"Hold on!"
Then, an abrupt shout deflated the trumpeters' puffed-up chests.
"What?"
The crowd turned irritated and bewildered eyes toward the voice.
It belonged to Baron Lancaster.
"Sir Lancaster, what's this about?"
Administrator Nolfold, just rising to raise his hand, turned his head.
He feigned surprise, but having been tipped off beforehand by the baron, his expression barely shifted.
"Apologies, Administrator. I heard an unverified identity was acting as proxy knight, so I had to speak up."
"Unverified identity?"
"Yes! That one right there—the White Family's first duelist!"
Baron Lancaster's finger jabbed toward Blake in the arena.
The crowd began to murmur.
"What's that mean?"
"Says his identity's unverified."
"So?"
"Idiot! Even a wandering knight has a family crest or at least a mercenary tag."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Stepping in for another house without one is shameless—especially for nobles."
The murmurs soon turned to agreement with the baron's words.
'Heh heh. Just as planned...'
As Baron Lancaster smirked triumphantly, the flustered Brick jumped in.
"Not true! The White Family's proxy knight Blake is a free citizen—Imperial Army veteran from Northernrocks Fortress!"
"Indeed! Lindelmann Zaroph, third son of the Zaroph Family, can vouch for his identity!"
Lindelmann raised his voice after Brick.
"Nonsense! Prove it how? Besides, Lindelmann Zaroph and this Blake recently trashed the Credo Swordsmen Corps—friends of my house. Why trust their gang?"
"No, that's—!"
"Quiet! Sir Lancaster has a valid point. So, what do you propose?"
"I want that unverified man removed, and the duel to proceed. We'll field only two as well."
"Hmm. And you others?"
Administrator Nolfold glanced around at the other observers.
Like him, those aligned with Lancaster beforehand nodded.
"Can't say he's wrong."
"Seems fair enough."
With all observers in agreement, Nolfold turned to the one true "outsider" present.
"Sir Swent...?"
"If that's the consensus, I'll go along."
It was the kind of petty nonsense anyone would normally oppose—but Roderick sided with it.
"Brother!"
Craig, from the waiting area, rolled his eyes in disbelief.
Roderick remained unfazed.
Blake, the Northernrocks discharged soldier he'd sized up, was no ordinary man.
"Then we'll exclude the unverified identity from this honor duel..."
That was when it happened.
"W-wait a sec!"
Someone shot up a hand, cutting off the administrator.
"Who're you? Daring to interrupt the administrator—you got a death wish?"
Baron Lancaster scowled fiercely, and the man scratched his head vigorously before speaking.
"Not that... but he really is a Northernrocks Fortress discharged soldier."
"Huh?"
Baron Lancaster and the observers stared at him in disbelief.
"And who the hell are you to claim that?"
Under Administrator Nolfold's razor-sharp tone, the bumbling-looking man flinched but managed a reply.
"W-well, I escorted reinforcements to the fortress and came back to Headgates with him, so I know."
"What?"
As everyone's eyes bulged, Lindelmann gaped upon recognizing him.
"Ooh! Guard—you're Guard!"
Joy overflowing at this unexpected ally, Lindelmann shouted.
The sheepish man endlessly scratching behind his ear.
He was none other than Headgates guard Guard.
Sent on orders from the Headgates administrator to retrieve Roderick, he'd ended up following the Blue Mane Knights all the way to Dunfries.
"Hello there, Sir Zaroph. Good to see you too, Blake."
Guard waved cheerfully at Lindelmann and Blake.
"Y-you! Who the hell are you?"
The rattled Baron Lancaster hurriedly glared.
"Headgates guard, sir. Here to deliver a letter from the Headgates administrator to Sir Swent."
"Wh-what? That true, Sir Roderick?"
"It is."
Roderick nodded curtly, inwardly clicking his tongue.
"Ugh!"
Baron Lancaster's face flushed red then purple.
But only for a moment.
Soon recalling something, he fixed Guard with cold eyes once more.
"Hmph! Fine! Even if you're a real Headgates guard, how do you prove he went to Northernrocks?"
"Eh? W-well..."
Guard clammed up for a beat, scratching his head.
"There! Can't prove it, can you? So we still can't verify he's a Northernrocks discharged soldier! Right, everyone?"
Baron Lancaster scanned around with smug satisfaction.
"W-well, yeah."
Irritated by the relentless nitpicking but unwilling to push, the observers nodded reluctantly.
Baron Lancaster's smugness grew as he opened his mouth again.
"Then..."
"Ah!"
That was when it happened.
A sudden flash of insight hit Lindelmann, and he bellowed.
"We can prove it! We can prove Blake here is a Northernrocks Fortress discharged soldier!"
"Hmph! What's this now?"
Irritated by the constant interruptions but dismissing it as a last gasp, Baron Lancaster shot back coldly.
As all eyes turned to him, Lindelmann pointed dramatically at Blake and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Blake here holds a handwritten letter stamped with the seal of Northernrocks Fortress Commander Henrik Oscar Jin Villand himself!"
"What? Whaaat?"
Baron Lancaster's eyes bulged. Nearby nobles did the same.
"Villand who?"
"Beats me."
Most of the commoner crowd just tilted their heads and murmured.
"Gasp!"
But the VIP nobles' box went slack-jawed the instant they heard Lindelmann.
The observers' section included, the VIP area fell deathly silent like water had been poured over it, with some muttering in disbelief.
"Northernrocks commander... a h-handwritten letter?"
"The Northernrocks commander is..."
Like they'd been smashed with a hammer, the nobles couldn't hide their shock, stuttering and glancing at each other.
"Villand? Rings a bell. Sir Brick, who was Villand again?"
Christine asked Brick amid the nobles' over-the-top reactions.
"......"
But Brick, like the rest, just gawked with mouth agape, speechless.
The answer came from Mia.
"T-true Villand is... the im-imperial..."
Mia's trembling voice, barely out, was drowned by Lindelmann's renewed shout driving the nail home.
"That's right! Blake here bears a letter from His Grace the Duke of Soria—second in line to the glorious Imperial throne! His Imperial Highness, Second Prince Henrik Oscar Jin Villand!"
"...!"
In an eerie hush like the calm before a storm, every eye turned to Blake.
(To be continued)