Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Proof (3)
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Demian's training finally came to an end after an hour had passed.
“Ugh, ugh....”
“Sa-save me....”
“My, my arm... my arm....”
The knights lay sprawled on the ground, letting out groans.
Demian looked down at them and clicked his tongue.
“Such pathetic bastards.”
He hadn't expected that the ones who signed up for the duel would collapse after barely an hour.
“I wanted to keep going a bit longer.”
Demian set down his sword and removed all the magic tools he had been wearing.
His heavy body instantly felt light. A thrilling sense of liberation washed over him.
Demian used his mana to examine his body's condition.
His muscle mass had noticeably increased compared to before the training.
‘As the rumors say, it's an incredible elixir.’
By combining the elixir—which grew the body just by consuming it—with training, he had maximized its effects.
Thanks to that, Demian achieved results that even satisfied him.
If he could, he would consume the second Equilibrium Pill right away.
“Ughhh... aaahhh.”
“Mo-mom... mom....”
But it was impossible to continue training like this. Demian clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“Hey, you there.”
Demian pointed at the smallest knight. It was the one who had first spoken to him.
“Urghhh... urghhh....”
The knight was too busy groaning to respond. Demian narrowed his eyes and spoke again.
“If you don't answer, I'll shatter both your legs.”
“U-aaah! Wh-why did you call me, sir!”
Startled by Demian's warning, the knight snapped to attention.
“What's your name?”
“P-Pavel Vermond, sir!”
“Right, Pavel Vermond. So, how did it feel to train under me?”
Pavel Vermond made a face like he'd bitten into a bug. His lips were pressed tight, but he clearly had a lot of complaints.
“Not gonna answer?”
“I-it was an incredibly practical and beneficial training, sir!”
“Good. You see it exactly right.”
Demian nodded in satisfaction. Pavel Vermond's expression twisted again.
“Who do you normally train under?”
“Un-under Sir Sebastian Vincenzo!”
Pavel Vermond glanced at Demian nervously before adding,
“...F-for the record, Sir Vincenzo is Middle-Class. He's personally instructing us to prepare for the duel. If we come back injured from such harsh training, he'll definitely be furious.”
Pavel Vermond's words suddenly sped up. It seemed like his attempt at a warning.
“So what if that guy's Middle-Class.”
But it didn't faze Demian at all.
‘A Middle-Class putting them through such garbage training.’
He'd never met the man, but he seemed like a worthless knight.
Part of him wanted to tell them to quit that training altogether.
‘But that would just make another Middle-Class my enemy.’
If High-Class were strategic weapons, Middle-Class were the core that moved the family from the front lines.
They mainly handled interventions in the numerous disputes inside and outside the family. That's why Middle-Class were often dispatched outside the family.
That was also why the ducal house currently had only one Middle-Class, Ernst Horwitz.
“When Sir Vincenzo's training ends, come here. You'll spar with me.”
“Y-yes?”
Pavel Vermond asked in surprise.
“If Sir Vincenzo finds out we got beaten up, he won't stay quiet!”
“Check your body. Any wounds?”
At Demian's words, Pavel Vermond looked down at himself.
“Huh? Wh-what?”
He had thought for sure he'd have bruises or burst skin from Demian's hits.
But in reality, Pavel Vermond's body was pristine, without a single scratch.
“H-how?”
“I learned some detailed ways to beat people back in the day.”
Among the masters Demian had fought, there was one called the Personality Corrector.
The Personality Corrector had reached the master realm for a very unique reason.
He traveled the continent, reforming criminals as his profession.
His method of correcting criminals was simple.
First, he beat them for an hour.
If that didn't work, he doubled the time.
One hour, two hours, four hours, eight hours.
Rumors said he'd once beaten one for a record 512 hours.
In the process of reforming criminals, the Personality Corrector developed pity for the bloodied ones who got beaten by him.
He pondered how to beat them without endangering their lives, and thus reached the master realm.
The realm he attained was called 'Brutal Beating'—no matter how hard he hit, it only caused pain, without bursting a single blood vessel.
“I'm warning you in advance—if you tell Sir Vincenzo what happened today, or don't show up here tomorrow, or cause any disruption to the training like that?”
Demian unleashed his killing intent.
Pavel Vermond and the other knights couldn't withstand it.
The weakest one foamed at the mouth, trembling uncontrollably.
“Then you'll be dragged here by me and beaten all day long.”
* * *
From that day on, Demian's training with the duel knights began.
Every day, Demian called the knights and beat them under the guise of training.
“Sir Demian! No, Lord Demian!”
Finally unable to take it, Pavel Vermond grabbed Demian's pant leg and shouted.
“We were wrong! I apologize for the rudeness when we first met! Please forgive us now!”
Demian shook off Pavel Vermond's hand.
“Hey, your words sound kinda weird. Like I'm the one tormenting you guys.”
“N-no, that's not what I...”
“Didn't I say it? I'm training you right now.”
Pavel Vermond looked like he had a lot to say but was holding it back.
‘Guys who wouldn't recognize gold if it was shoved in their faces.’
Demian clicked his tongue inwardly.
They didn't notice, but during spars, Demian was using a specific swordsmanship.
The Lion's Guard Sword used by the Ryanbloom Marquis Family knights.
Raising their skill in a month was tough.
So Demian decided to get them accustomed to the Lion's Guard Sword.
‘I thought at least one or two might recognize it.’
Not a single knight did. Proof of their shallow experience.
“Done resting while yapping nonsense? Get up.”
Demian Haksen struck the ground with his training sword and said.
* * *
Like that, five days passed.
In that time, Demian mingled with the knights and successfully absorbed all the Equilibrium Pills.
The changes he gained were dramatic.
Originally, Demian's body had some lean muscle, but he looked scrawny in clothes.
Now, it had become sturdy and robust. Thanks to the massive muscle gain from the Equilibrium Pills.
‘It's not just the appearance.’
Demian swung down his training sword. With a clean whoosh, it dug deep into the training ground floor.
‘The quality of the muscles is different. Much faster, overflowing with power.’
No need to debate if a tiger's muscles were superior to a dog's.
The Equilibrium Pill had elevated Demian's muscles to a higher level.
‘As expected of Azoth Arkelthus's elixir.’
It was then, as Demian greatly satisfied himself with his changes.
“Urghhh....”
“Aaaah....”
The knights sprawled on the ground groaned.
Demian glanced down at them.
‘These guys have grown a lot too.’
At first, they couldn't resist Demian at all and just got beaten.
But now, after ten days, they could respond to some degree. Meaning they were starting to adapt to the Lion's Guard Sword.
It was possible because Demian held back, but also thanks to their talents.
‘Not chosen as duel knights for nothing.’
If they filled the month like this, victory in the duel was worth expecting.
“What are you doing, you vermin! Get up! Training's not over!”
Demian bellowed. The knights still crawled on the ground.
“If you don't get up, I'll beat you one by one!”
Only after Demian threatened once more did the knights jump to their feet.
It was then.
“Sir Demian! There you are.”
The duke's attendant was running into the training ground.
“His Grace is looking for you, Sir Demian.”
“What's the matter?”
“Well....”
The attendant looked troubled, his face stiffening.
“Lady Chelsea is returning soon.”
* * *
Demian headed straight to the conference hall.
The duke and his retainers were already gathered. Fewer than when Demian had raided the ducal house.
That had been a major meeting with retainers from other regions, incomparable to now.
Demian looked around.
No women, so Lady Chelsea hadn't entered the conference hall yet.
“Oh, Demian.”
The duke waved. Demian stood beside him.
“I heard Lady Chelsea is returning soon.”
“Yes, I sent a subordinate ahead with the news. She's on her way back now.”
The duke said with a grin. But his eyes weren't smiling at all.
“It would've been better if she hadn't come back from abroad.”
It was a chilling statement, hard to believe from a father to his daughter.
“I don't know what knight Chelsea will bring. But just so you know, if the one she brings is far superior to you, the representative spot might change.”
Unlike his usual demeanor, the duke's attitude was extremely cold.
“Your Grace, have you already forgotten what I said last time?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“No matter who she brings, they won't be better than me.”
The duke looked blank for a moment. Then he burst into loud laughter.
“Hahaha! I like this about you! You're always brimming with confidence.”
The duke patted Demian's back.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from outside the door.
By the sound, at least over a dozen people were approaching.
As they neared, the soldiers guarding the conference hall doors flung them wide open.
A young woman led, followed by over ten men.
All warriors, exuding fierce auras.
“Father, it's been a while.”
The young woman knelt on one knee. The men with her did the same.
“Chelsea Goldpixie. Reporting my return.”
Her clear voice filled the conference hall.
Demian Haksen observed Chelsea Goldpixie from beside the duke.
She differed in many ways from the noble ladies he'd seen.
First, her clothes.
She wore simple, practical travel attire. Worn in places, as if long-used.
Her hair was tied simply in one ponytail, exposing her neckline clearly.
‘Above all, her eyes are different.’
Like they held a small ember.
The gaze only those filled with ambition could have.
‘So that's why the duke isn't pleased.’
Power struggles between parents and children were common in noble families.
Conflicts arose between healthy parents and children eager to inherit power sooner.
“You're back safe, Chelsea.”
Regardless of his true feelings, the duke spread his arms wide as if welcoming her.
“So, did you bring the knight for the duel?”
Chelsea gestured. One from the group stepped forward.
A massive man evoking a black bear, covered in hair.
His eyes were very small. But his black pupils were large, almost no whites visible.
On his back, two hand axes. Well-maintained, but reeking of blood.
“Your Grace! Greetings!”
The man spoke. His booming voice echoed through the hall.
“I'm the Wild Beast Guillaume Blackwing!”
The name caused an immediate uproar in the conference hall.
* * *
Demian knew nothing about Guillaume Blackwing.
The knights he remembered were mostly master-class. No reason to know low-class ones.
“Isn't Guillaume Blackwing... the famous free knight?”
“He joined Ecleang Kingdom's conflicts and massacred low-class knights....”
“I hear he has no rivals among low-class.”
But grasping who Guillaume Blackwing was posed no problem.
Just from the retainers' talk, it was clear.
“Oh ho.”
Even the duke showed interest in Guillaume Blackwing. He eyed him closely and asked.
“I've heard a lot about you. They say you rampage like a beast on the battlefield, earning the title Wild Beast?”
“Looks like my fame has spread even to Apple Kingdom.”
Guillaume Blackwing laughed roughly, pleased.
Called a knight, but he seemed to know nothing of manners.
“Father, Sir Guillaume Blackwing has graciously sworn loyalty to me and agreed to participate in this duel.”
Chelsea Goldpixie stepped forward and said.
“Sir Guillaume Blackwing can more than handle Michael Ryanbloom. With your support, Father, the odds will be even higher.”
The retainers nodded at her words.
“With Guillaume Blackwing, it might really work.”
“Michael Ryanbloom is called a genius, but in current fame, Guillaume Blackwing is above, right?”
“If Michael Ryanbloom is still developing, Guillaume Blackwing is already complete.”
The retainers' opinions were very positive. But not the duke's.
“This is a headache.”
The duke muttered, stroking his chin. Chelsea nodded emphatically.
“Pardon? What do you mean....”
“I haven't introduced him yet.”
The duke pointed at Demian Haksen.
“Sir Demian Haksen. He's the representative for the duel.”
Chelsea's eyebrow twitched.
“What do you mean? I asked you to wait for me.”
“You did say that. But I never said I'd wait.”
Chelsea's mouth fell open slightly in disbelief.
“...Then change the representative now.”
“I'll have to think about it.”
“There's nothing to think about, is there? I've never heard of Demian Haksen. Isn't it obvious to choose Sir Guillaume Blackwing over some no-name knight without roots?”
Chelsea glared at the duke, words pouring out.
“That's true. Sir Demian Haksen is excellent, but... Sir Guillaume Blackwing is more reliable.”
“Have Sir Guillaume Blackwing face Michael Ryanbloom and Sir Demian Haksen face another knight.”
The retainers agreed with Chelsea.
To them too, Guillaume Blackwing looked far stronger than Demian Haksen.
But the duke disagreed.
“Sir Demian Haksen here broke through the ducal house guards alone and even blocked a strike from Sir Ernst Horwitz. Sir Guillaume Blackwing is impressive, but I think Sir Demian Haksen is no pushover either.”
At the duke's words, Chelsea Goldpixie gritted her teeth.
“...You said ability matters, but you cast aside Mother for that. Now you're acting different.”
In that instant, the duke's face hardened. His grip tightened on the chair arm.
“You're speaking too carelessly.”
“Forgive me. The travel fatigue has me out of my mind.”
Chelsea didn't back down an inch.
“The change in representative will be decided after consulting the retainers. No more arguing—withdraw.”
The duke waved her off.
It was then.
“Your Grace, why drag out a meeting like gutless women?”
Suddenly, Guillaume Blackwing spoke up. Startled, Chelsea Goldpixie tried to stop him.
“What are you doing? I told you to stay qui—”
“Ain't the strongest guy supposed to sit as representative anyway? Let's just fight fair and square—the winner takes it.”
Guillaume Blackwing pointed at Demian Haksen.
Demian let out a hollow laugh.
He wanted to flatten the arrogant bastard right then.
But that would make him seem on the same level as the brute.
So first, he sought the duke's permission.
“Your Grace, mind if I damage the conference hall a bit?”
“Hm? Do as you like.”
Demian approached Guillaume Blackwing. Close enough to see his nose hairs.
“Wanna settle it like men?”
“Oho, you agree with me, huh?”
“Damn right.”
Demian extended his hand to Guillaume Blackwing.
“No need to fight. Let's just arm-wrestle right here to decide.”
The retainers were greatly shocked.
Guillaume Blackwing's head was a size larger than Demian Haksen's, his forearms three times thicker.
It wasn't just looks. Guillaume Blackwing was famous for his monstrous strength.
“If your arm gets ripped off, don't blame me?”
“How cruel.”
Demian glanced at Guillaume Blackwing's arm and said.
“I'll just dislocate your shoulder nicely.”
“Bullshit.”
Guillaume Blackwing grabbed Demian Haksen's arm.
Right after, Guillaume Blackwing's head slammed into the ground.