Chapter 26
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Arena (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"……."
Blake stood silently, enduring the barrage of stares directed his way.
He had been growing irritated by this frustrating situation—one he couldn't comprehend, or rather, didn't even want to bother understanding.
He had been racking his brain for a way to resolve it when Lindelmann's unexpected statement suddenly cleared everything up.
In truth, he hadn't entirely dismissed the idea of using the commander's letter as identification. The commander himself had suggested it, after all.
But instinct, perhaps?
Something about it felt off, so he had been searching for another option.
Now that Lindelmann had stepped in and stirred things up, there was no turning back.
Still, if anything, it meant he could fight and leave sooner, so it wasn't all bad.
"I-is that true? You, er, no, sir, do you truly possess a letter from the Northernrocks Fortress Commander... no, from His Highness Prince Henrik?"
Administrator Nolford, who had nearly slipped into his habitual informal tone, quickly corrected himself and bowed his head as he asked.
The implications of Lindelmann's words were that significant.
"Indeed."
Blake pulled a wooden case containing the commander's letter from his inner pocket—the one he always carried with him.
The administrator's eyes widened at the sight.
"H-hey! Bring that here. Let me verify it first..."
"I cannot. The commander gave strict orders not to hand the letter to anyone but the intended recipient."
"Ah, I see. Then I'll come take a look."
Administrator Nolford nodded hastily and hurried down to the arena floor himself.
"Oh!"
Upon confirming the imperial crest engraved on the case and the seal on the letter, Nolford's eyes bulged wide.
He examined the seal over and over before swallowing hard, turning a trembling gaze to the crowd, and proclaiming in a booming voice.
"By the authority granted to me by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, I hereby acknowledge! Sir Blake before you is a knight of His Highness Prince Oscar Jin Villand, Commander of Northernrocks Fortress and Duke of Soria!"
"I'm not a knight..."
"Wooooaaah!"
Blake's attempt to correct him was drowned out by the crowd's thunderous roar.
"A knight of Prince Henrik!"
"This guy's a massive big shot!"
The crowd's reaction was explosive toward Blake, whose status had skyrocketed from mere discharged soldier of Northernrocks Fortress—already under suspicion—to knight of a prince.
"To earn Prince Henrik's trust enough to carry his letter? He must be an incredible knight."
"No kidding!"
"I knew he had an extraordinary air about him!"
Even the women who had only eyed the other knights now turned their heated gazes toward him.
But Blake, indifferent to it all, addressed Administrator Nolford flatly.
"Then there's no issue with proceeding to the duel?"
"None at all! Of course not! G-good luck, sir."
Overflowing with excitement, Nolford even clapped Blake on the shoulder.
"I'm not a knight..."
"Then let the honor duel between the White Family and the Lancaster Family commence!"
The thoroughly roused Administrator Nolford bellowed.
Trumpeters immediately blared their horns as if they had been waiting for the cue.
Bam-ba-ba-bam!
"Waaaaah!"
The frenzied crowd cheered wildly, regardless of status.
Not everyone, though.
"Sir Swent."
"I know."
Lordric gave a faint nod at Jonathan's low whisper.
He had suspected something when Northernrocks discharged soldier was mentioned, but this was an unexpected prize.
The man before them was one of the main reasons they had come north.
"Th-this is..."
Lordric glanced at Baron Lancaster's flustered voice.
The baron's plump face was twisted in dismay.
Lordric turned away coldly from him.
What happened to Baron Lancaster no longer mattered.
The envoy from the man who had drawn them all the way north was confirmed.
Verifying the letter he carried was now their top priority.
They wouldn't have bothered coming north if not for the second prince who hadn't left Northernrocks Fortress in over a decade—they had planned to sway Baron Lancaster and shake the Iron Earl's family.
'Who is it addressed to?'
That was crucial.
Knowing the contents would be ideal.
'He's tied directly to the grand undertaking. No matter what...'.
Lordric's sharp gaze lingered on Blake, who was about to clash with his opponent.
"Y-you may be Prince Henrik's knight, but I won't go easy ju—"
Bang!
Before Billett could finish, Blake's massive frame shot forward like a coiled spring.
"Hngh?"
Billett, who had been trying to maintain his dignity to the end, flinched and raised his shield in alarm.
Crash!
"Kuh!"
The shock rippled from his wrist through his entire body, forcing him back several steps.
Yet, like the seasoned knight he was, Billett kept his balance and swung his longsword with vigor.
Shing!
A sharp blade gleam slashed diagonally.
Having anticipated the attack from the moment Billett retreated, Blake parried the sword with the short club in his left hand and closed in.
Clang!
"Urk?"
Billett, who prided himself as the strongest under Baron Lancaster, was stunned—not only had his strike been blocked, but a crushing impact jarred his shoulder.
His surprise was short-lived.
Pak!
Blake closed the distance in an instant.
"Ngh?"
Billett instinctively stepped back, startled.
In that moment, Blake's arms blurred, sending two dark shadows streaking toward Billett's head and waist.
"Hya!"
Billett hurriedly tried to block with sword and shield.
Kwaboom!
He barely managed to fend off the blows to his head and waist.
But an unexpected impact from below sent his body staggering.
"Wha!"
The short club strikes had been a feint.
Blake, who had stuck even closer with double the speed of Billett's retreat, had swept his calf.
"Graaah!"
Thud!
Billett's hulking form collapsed.
A short club immediately followed as if lying in wait.
"Eek?"
He desperately tried to block with his shield, but it was futile.
The black club battered his limbs at blinding speed.
Bang! Bang-bang!
"Sp-spare... Graaak!"
His once-gleaming armor crumpled like rags in seconds. His screams grew more horrific, like a hog being slaughtered.
"Aaaagh! P-please! Graaaaah! Kyaaaa!"
Bang! Kwabang!
His limbs shattered and twisted grotesquely.
"Guhhh..."
Only when his armor was in tatters did Billett's screams fade, and the club barrage ceased.
Billett lay there, armor dented everywhere, foaming at the mouth and twitching sporadically.
Soon, the man hailed as Northway's greatest warrior toppled slowly.
Blood-mixed excrement oozed from the gaps in his lower armor.
Blake gave him a indifferent glance before lifting his head.
"……!"
The arena had fallen deathly silent, as if doused with cold water.
People stared in disbelief—or revulsion—at the man who had been fine moments ago, now half-crippled, and the one who had done it.
"Ugh..."
This wasn't what they wanted.
They craved gallant knights clashing with dazzling swordplay, deciding victory honorably.
Not this brutal, animalistic beatdown ending in pathetic defeat.
"Urp!"
Not a few women averted their eyes from the gruesome sight or retched.
Even tougher men grimaced or paled.
Yet most spectators couldn't tear their eyes from the man standing in the arena.
"……."
The perpetrator showed no disturbance.
Just as when he first entered, he stood like a statue amid the horror he had wrought, as if it had nothing to do with him.
"Ugh..."
That only unnerved them more.
Monster.
That's what Blake appeared as in their eyes—the architect of this atrocity.
Flick!
The monster shook the blood and flesh from his club and turned his impassive gaze elsewhere.
He simply wanted to end this pointless fight and leave as soon as possible.
Thus, with cold, detached eyes fixed on one corner of the arena, Blake parted his dry lips.
"Next."
His heavy voice carried a strange resonance.
"……!"
The crowd jolted back to their senses.
And under all those eyes, the next opponent slowly ascended to the arena.
A few spectators broke the silence with cheers upon seeing the massive bald man nearly Blake's size.
"N-Northway's Mad Axe!"
"It's Mad Axe Steven!"
"Wooo!"
The shouts from Duff and the swordsmanship academy youths quickly swelled into cheers.
"Waaaaah!"
Steven, infamous for his brutal looks and reputation, was hailed today like a hero facing a monster.
Moreover, for some reason, he grinned at his opponent, radiating confidence.
"Ooh! He's smiling!"
"He must be confident!"
"Steven! Steven!"
The crowd chanted his name.
But the smile on Steven's face, basking in cheers for the first time in his life, meant something entirely different from what they imagined.
"Heh heh! I had a hunch... Fuck me! Heh heh!"
His muttering curse twisted into a resigned grin.
"Hm."
A faint glint flickered in Blake's eyes as they met Steven's.
He had thought the face looked familiar amid the cheers; now he remembered.
"Second Reconnaissance Platoon Squad Leader Steven Hunt?"
"Kuh! Busted."
Steven muttered instead of answering and raised his axe.
"It's been a doggone age, First Reconnaissance Captain? Fuck! Why'd you crawl out of the fortress? You're not even due for discharge."
"None of your concern."
The glint was brief; Blake's eyes returned to their usual indifference.
"Same prickly attitude as ever. Fuck!"
"If you're coming, make it quick."
It was just mild curiosity at seeing a familiar face after leaving the fortress. No new interest would spark now from someone he had ignored back then. Blake twitched his club without changing expression.
Steven's face twisted.
"Fine! Here I come, you bastard!"
Roaring, Steven charged at Blake.
(To be continued next time)