Chapter 88
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Duke Erwin
Duke Erwin
“The Demisto branch has been destroyed.”
Tik, tik. The woman’s nails clicked sharply. She’d been furrowing her brow deeply, but at last, she let out a heavy sigh.
“What are you going to do now? Haken Wert is basically done for.”
“…….”
“You just going to sit there with your mouth shut?”
With no reply forthcoming, the woman twisted her expression and rose from her seat.
“I’m the only executive left now. You’re the chairman. Do something!”
“Is there a problem?”
“…What have you even been listening to?”
Crunch—the woman ground her teeth.
“All the executives are dead, that nameless guy got torn apart by the Sword Sovereign’s hand, headquarters is smashed, and now even the biggest branch we had left—Demisto—is in ruins.”
A bloody glint flickered in the woman’s eyes. She glared at the man as if she’d tear him to shreds right then and there, then spat out her words in a boiling voice.
“I should be the one asking. In this situation, what isn’t a problem? What do we even have left?”
The chairman still gave no answer. It was nauseating. The woman closed her eyes for a moment to steady her breathing, then turned her back on him brusquely.
“…You bastard.”
And then,
“What we have left…”
The chairman opened his eyes. There wasn’t a shred of emotion in his impassive gaze.
“…is what?”
“A chance to take it all back.”
Grrrind—the chairman rose to his feet. Parched dust, hardened like stone, crumbled and fell from his body.
“Let’s go to Demisto.”
*
“Wow.”
Zikfrain clapped as he munched on his snacks.
“Was Eri always that strong? Color me impressed.”
“Well, Eri handles most of the control when I’m going all out. Of course she’s tough.”
Eri was rampaging like a madwoman. She’d already cycled through three opponents.
The banquet hall buzzed as a fox with a sword in her mouth tore through the kingdom’s promising young talents one by one.
“What kind of spirit is that?”
“Did someone borrow their master’s spirit? There’s no way Solid Sword Style could lose.”
And the one in question—Eri, who’d never really had a chance to fight on her own, always stuck assisting Enoch and pent up with frustration to the brim—roared in the sweet release of unleashing it all.
[Kyaaang—!]
Her fierce howl echoed, making those below her level struggle to steady their tingling bodies. Eri puffed up with pride at the sight.
She had perfect self-awareness of her own strength. Now it was time to pursue her true goal.
[Hmm….]
The fox’s eyes, crackling with purple lightning, fixed on a young man. Countless gazes in the banquet hall followed hers.
If even Solid Sword Style, one of the hall’s top tiers, had fallen so pathetically, there was only one person left who could face that young spirit.
“Haha… So that’s what this is about?”
Carsten de Pearson, the man who’d risen to master at a young age and gained fame for it, chuckled awkwardly as he stepped forward.
“You could’ve just said so. I’d spar with you anytime.”
[Hmph. As if you’re the one doing me a favor. I’m the one granting you this.]
“Ah, so that’s why you went through all this hassle?”
Carsten swept back his hair, which fell to his eyes, and slipped on a pair of white gloves. They weren’t ordinary gloves—they were a type of gauntlet. Eri’s eyes narrowed.
[Empty-Handed Fist? How quaint.]
If he’d at least used a sword or spear, it might’ve been different. But bare-handed against her, who’d grown up her whole life by Enoch’s side?
It was basically begging to get beaten to dust.
As Eri tapped the ground with her front paw and wiggled her hips in anticipation,
“H-Her Excellency, Duke Erwin, has arrived!”
The door attendant’s flustered voice rang out, and the banquet hall doors swung open.
“The duke?”
Enoch tilted his head. She hadn’t been announcing anyone earlier, but now she was bellowing it out like that for a duke?
Or was it just a heads-up to brace themselves?
Clank—clank—
A group of people entered the hall amid the sound of armor. The man at the forefront was probably the duke.
“Everyone, show your respects!”
One of the knights behind the duke shouted, and the younger generation bowed in unison.
Enoch and Eri were the only ones staring blankly at the duke. Zikfrain didn’t stop them, so Enoch peered at the duke with a puzzled look.
“What’s this.”
It was weird. This couldn’t be right.
As he stared, baffled and uncomprehending, the knight who’d shouted earlier glared at Enoch.
“Show your respect at once…!”
“Enough.”
Duke Erwin waved the knight off dismissively and approached Carsten.
“Oh?”
He paused to stroke his chin with interest at Eri, then addressed Carsten.
“I heard the news.”
“…You came all the way here for this?”
“I’ve told you time and again—Pearson is too small a vessel for you.”
“No matter what anyone says, I am a Pearson.”
Carsten lifted his head slightly, and their gazes met. The clash of eyes filled the banquet hall with a strange tension.
“Hey, we were in the middle of a spar, so can we talk later?”
Of course, it had nothing to do with Enoch.
Eri had been looking forward to this fight, and now this human duke was barging in to ruin it? A mere kingdom duke, at that.
“Insolent! How dare you speak to Her Excellency the Duke like that!”
The same knight stepped forward again. The knight, who’d irritably removed his helmet, bore a striking resemblance to the duke.
‘His daughter?’
Enoch was a little curious, but not that curious.
As Enoch stared at the knight, the duke clicked his tongue and furrowed his brow.
“Who are you? I don’t recognize the face.”
“Enoch Astor.”
“Astor? Ah, I’ve heard of you. The Sword Sovereign’s disciple, right?”
The duke sneered down at Enoch coldly.
“Don’t mistake your master’s glory for your own, whelp. The Sword Sovereign wouldn’t take on a fool too dim to know when to step in or stay out.”
“……?”
What the hell was this guy on about? Enoch scratched his ear.
“You know Leon?”
“We’re done here, so get lo….”
“But why talk like you’re buddies? You’re not even dried behind the ears yet and already senile?”
Enoch’s eyes scanned the duke up and down.
Yep. No doubt about it.
He’d thought it was a mistake, but no matter how many times he checked, the conclusion was the same.
“And you—you’re weaker than Marquis Demisto. How are you a duke?”
“Arrogant….”
Rage rapidly clouded the duke’s face. His cheeks flushed as his lips trembled, and he barely restrained his fury to spit out his words.
“…Does the Elven Alliance want war with the kingdom?”
“What…. You lot wouldn’t even put up a fight.”
Was he serious? If demigods didn’t intervene on both sides, the human kingdoms would vanish without a trace in an hour.
“Ufufu, well said.”
Just then, hazy smoke gathered in one spot, taking the form of a person.
Enoch raised an eyebrow at the glowing golden pupils in the smoke.
“Choco? Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”
“I was going to, but staying cooped up in the room got boring. So I came to watch, and wouldn’t you know it—such an entertaining show.”
Click. Tsukiyo emerged from the smoke, pipe in mouth, and eyed Duke Erwin.
She had to look up at him due to the height difference, yet somehow it felt like she was looking down.
In fact, the duke furrowed his brow in evident unease.
“…Black Catastrophe.”
“Oh? That’s an old name. How do you know it?”
“Tsukiyo of the Black Cat Tribe, why are you here?”
“Hmm?”
Tsukiyo smiled languidly and blew a puff of pipe smoke right into the duke’s face.
“Eh, just tagging along with Dad.”
“…Dad?”
“That human guy you called a whelp.”
“What nonsense….”
“Sigh….”
Tsukiyo rested her hand on her cheek and sighed.
“My dad really doesn’t get out enough, that’s his problem. Being called the Sword Sovereign’s disciple at this point is absurd to begin with.”
Who in the world calls a grandmaster someone’s disciple? A friend of the master, maybe—but otherwise, it was the kind of insult that’d get you challenged to a duel without recourse.
“…Not a funny joke at all. If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going.”
At the duke’s glance, the knight handed something to Carsten and hurriedly followed. But those steps didn’t get far.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Enoch sauntered out, eyeing the duke with clear displeasure.
“You really rub me the wrong way.”
Shing—! The knight drew her sword.
“Step aside right no—! Urk?!”
“You play with Eri.”
Enoch grabbed the knight and tossed her aside, then stood before the duke and drew the sword at his waist.
“And you… I’ll go easy, so come at me.”
From the look of it, the duke was a swordsman. Messing around with swords should match his level fine.
“…Tsukiyo of the Black Cat Tribe, you saw it too. The discourtesy of the Sword Sovereign’s disciple, and the duel he’s challenged me to.”
“My, my, you sure found a way out quick. Do as you please. Though it only means anything if you can leave this place.”
Tsukiyo perched on a table, propping her chin, and alternated glances between Enoch and the duke.
‘Dad killing a duke won’t cause much trouble.’
With her judgment made, she grinned and waved at Enoch, who waved back.
‘House of the duke’s swordsmanship…. Copy it and use it against him—he’d love that, right?’
Probably.