Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Fake (1)
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What the hell just happened?
The vassals looked at the two men with baffled expressions.
One moment it seemed like they were shaking hands, and the next, Guillaume Blackwing had slammed his head into the ground.
Everyone had only seen the result—no one had witnessed the process in between.
‘...Impressive.’
Only one person was different: Gaol Heimrich. He had clearly seen what trick Demian Haksen had pulled off.
‘To turn the opponent's own strength against him and subdue him like that.’
As soon as Guillaume Blackwing grabbed Demian Haksen's hand, he had tried to twist and break it.
But Demian Haksen had cleverly used that force to hurl Guillaume Blackwing to the floor instead.
It meant Demian Haksen's technique was far superior to Guillaume Blackwing's.
‘And it's not just his technique. His physical abilities are much greater too.’
If it were just raw strength, Guillaume Blackwing would probably be stronger.
But in terms of explosiveness and agility, Demian Haksen was superior.
That was why Guillaume Blackwing had fallen the instant Demian Haksen applied his technique.
‘He achieved tremendous physical growth in that short time.’
Gaol Heimrich recalled the first time he had seen Demian Haksen.
It had been a withered, frail body. No matter how you looked at it, it wasn't the physique of a knight.
But now it was different. Well-defined muscles covered his entire body. His frame had grown much larger too.
‘Looks like he fully absorbed the Equilibrium Ring.’
Demian Haksen was an extremely peculiar knight.
His skill was outstanding, but his stamina and mana were severely lacking.
He had compensated for those deficiencies with technique.
But now things were different. He had filled in his stamina shortfall to a certain degree.
Just that alone had completely changed the intimidating presence Demian Haksen exuded.
‘If he overcomes his mana deficiency too, there's no telling how much stronger he'll get.’
Gaol Heimrich had thought he'd never see another monster like Michael Ryanbloom in his lifetime.
Yet not long after, he had encountered another one on par with him.
Even as a high-class knight, Gaol Heimrich felt a chill run down his spine.
“I was going to rip your shoulder blade out, but it's still perfectly attached? Guess you're tougher than I thought.”
Suddenly, Demian Haksen looked down at Guillaume Blackwing and spoke.
“But why so quiet now? You were bragging earlier about ripping my arm off.”
At Demian Haksen's mockery, Gaol Heimrich could only give a wry smile.
‘His skill is top-notch. But he really holds a grudge.’
He had been the same way with Ernst Horwitz. Demian Haksen was the type who had to get revenge if someone crossed him.
‘If only he had some humility too.’
It was while Gaol Heimrich felt a pang of regret.
“You... bastard...”
Guillaume Blackwing muttered lowly. His voice was thick with rage and hatred.
“How... dare you... humiliate... me... like this?”
Steam-like vapor began rising from Guillaume Blackwing's entire body.
It was the telltale sign of mana being stirred.
“You... I'll twist you to death!”
Guillaume Blackwing bellowed. At the same time, his mana exploded. Fierce waves spread out in all directions.
“I'll split that thick skull of yours right now!”
Guillaume Blackwing roughly drew the axe strapped to his back and swung it down at Demian Haksen.
Or rather, he tried to.
From one side of the conference hall, enormous mana surged forth. The air in the hall was pushed away by the vast power, whipping up a gale.
Guillaume Blackwing's body froze stiff under that overwhelming pressure.
“To swing a weapon recklessly in His Excellency's presence.”
A small voice rang out. Guillaume Blackwing's head turned slowly, like a rusty hinge.
To the duke's right.
An old knight in full armor glared at Guillaume Blackwing with cold eyes.
“Do you have a death wish?”
Gaol Heimrich's eyes gleamed menacingly.
* * *
‘Impressive indeed.’
Demian inwardly marveled at Gaol Heimrich's presence.
‘That explains why they let him bring a weapon here despite the duke being present.’
It was confidence that no one could harm the duke as long as Gaol Heimrich was there.
“Guh... guh...”
Guillaume Blackwing's face looked like he was on the verge of death as cold sweat poured nonstop.
No matter how renowned a knight he was, he was only low-class. There was no way he could withstand a high-class knight's pressure.
“For the sake of Lady Chelsea's face, I'll let it slide this once. But remember—there won't be a second chance.”
Gaol Heimrich withdrew his pressure. Only then did Guillaume Blackwing gasp for breath.
“A bit of a petty disturbance.”
Clap.
The duke clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.
“From what I see, it would be best to keep the representative position as is. I find Sir Demian far more reliable than Sir Guillaume Blackwing.”
As the duke spoke and moved to end the meeting—
“Your Excellency! This was not a fair match!”
Someone shouted at the duke. It was none other than Ernst Horwitz.
“Sir Guillaume Blackwing hasn't fully recovered from his travel fatigue. This was a match far more advantageous to Demian Haksen!”
Ernst Horwitz defended Guillaume Blackwing. But not a single vassal paid him any mind.
“Wasn't this a duel with Sir Guillaume Blackwing's consent?”
“He lost so utterly that blaming travel fatigue won't fly.”
Ernst Horwitz's face flushed beet red at the murmurs from all around.
“Above all, Sir Guillaume Blackwing is a knight who fights with weapons! We can't properly gauge his skill barehanded!”
Yet he persisted stubbornly.
“Sir Ernst is right.”
As if waiting for her cue, Chelsea Goldpixie spoke up.
“I believe we should compare the two knights' skills through a proper duel, not child's play.”
“I doubt the outcome would change even then.”
The duke's response was lukewarm. Chelsea Goldpixie bit her lip.
“Your Excellency! That's too hasty a decision! Sir Guillaume Blackwing is a knight already renowned abroad...”
“Chelsea, enough with the nonsense.”
The duke cut her off firmly.
“Your Excellency!”
“This is me telling you to stop flaunting your incompetence to me.”
Everyone—even Chelsea Goldpixie and the other vassals—was stunned by his icy tone.
“...I have been disrespectful.”
Chelsea Goldpixie hastily apologized and withdrew.
“Your Excellency, may I say a word?”
At that moment, someone raised his hand.
“I accept Lady Chelsea's proposal.”
Everyone's eyes widened at Demian Haksen's words.
* * *
In truth, Demian Haksen had accepted the duel for another reason.
‘I definitely sensed black magic from Guillaume Blackwing.’
When Guillaume Blackwing had stirred his mana, Demian Haksen had clearly felt it.
The black magic operating within his body.
It was so thoroughly concealed that even Demian Haksen had to scrutinize it closely.
‘Who would've thought I'd encounter a fake knight this soon.’
Fake knight.
It was the nickname given to knights who had been empowered through procedures by black mages.
‘Trash who rely on black magic to grow strong, but apparently unmatched among their peers?’
Fake knights gained superior physical abilities and vast mana through black magic.
They were called the strongest at their level.
But they had major drawbacks.
First, they paid with their own lifespans for the black magic. As far as Demian knew, none had lived more than five years after the procedure.
That wasn't all. During the procedure, the black mages secretly implanted obedience spells on the knights.
As a result, fake knights traded their fleeting strength for a lifetime of slavery to black mages.
‘Fake knights are like bombs. They're bound to explode soon.’
Fake knights wouldn't stay hidden for long.
The Church would launch a massive manhunt, rounding them up and executing them.
In the duke's household, with the duke's daughter involved, they couldn't escape the Church's purge.
‘The Church's hunts are relentless and brutal. There will be massive damage.’
From Demian's position, using the duke's house to check the marquis's family, this was unwelcome.
‘No choice. I'll have to step in.’
Truth be told, it wasn't purely for practical reasons.
‘I can't just stand by and watch those filthy cockroach bastards crawl around in front of me.’
Demian Haksen loathed black mages. If he could, he'd wipe them from the face of the earth.
‘Should I expose him right here? No, it's too early for that.’
Demian Haksen's goal was to preserve the duke's house.
To that end, he needed to find out how deeply Chelsea Goldpixie was involved in this.
“You mean to duel Sir Guillaume Blackwing?”
The duke asked with a face that said he couldn't comprehend.
“They don't seem convinced, so accepting won't hurt.”
“Since it's Sir Demian's request, I can't refuse. The duel is permitted.”
The duke readily granted Demian Haksen's wish.
“Listen, vassals. Tomorrow's duel will decide our representative.”
Chelsea Goldpixie's face lit up with relief at the declaration.
“But on second thought, Sir Demian Haksen gains little even if he wins. He just keeps his seat.”
The duke fiddled with his ring. He opened a pocket dimension and pulled something out.
It was a small glass vial filled with brilliant blue liquid.
“Do you know what this is?”
The duke shook the vial as he spoke. Neither Demian Haksen nor the other vassals had a clue.
“It's the Mana Crystal Elixir.”
The moment the duke named it, everyone gasped in shock.
It was one of the legendary elixirs created solely by Azot Arkelthus, head of the Refining School.
An elixir made by double-refining mana extracted from mana-bearing spirit herbs.
The amount of mana it provided wasn't that much—roughly ten years' worth.
But its true value lay elsewhere: it heightened mana sensitivity.
Greater sensitivity improved not only mana control but also natural recovery speed.
Thanks to this unprecedented effect, it was proudly listed among the 12 Great Elixirs that the Empire's Greatest Swordsman decreed must be consumed.
“I'll award this elixir to tomorrow's victor.”
The vassals buzzed at the duke's declaration.
* * *
The duke ended the meeting right then.
Chelsea Goldpixie was the first to leave the conference hall with her entourage, including Ernst Horwitz.
The vassals followed. Demian Haksen tried to slip out amid them.
“Sir Demian, hold on a moment.”
The duke stopped him. Demian turned back with a puzzled look.
“It just occurred to me—didn't your longsword break last time because of Sir Ernst?”
“Yes, it did.”
“Then you have no weapon for tomorrow's duel?”
“I planned to use a training sword.”
Demian said it nonchalantly. With his skill, he could crush Guillaume Blackwing barehanded if needed.
“That's not acceptable.”
But the duke shook his head.
“A knight's weapon is like his face. Bringing a training weapon to a public duel like this is like smearing dung on your own visage.”
The duke had a point.
That was why knights desperately sought famed blades.
“Besides, you can't use a training weapon in a duel against the marquis's house, can you? There's a workshop managed by the duke's house in the outer fortress. Get yourself a sword there.”
Demian looked at the duke in surprise.
“Really?”
“Of course. I'll inform them ahead of time, so stop by whenever.”
Demian's chest swelled with emotion.
A workshop run by the duke's house would surely be top-tier.
The chance to commission a weapon there would thrill any knight.
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Demian expressed his gratitude. The duke waved it off like it was nothing.
* * *
The duke summoned a servant to guide Demian Haksen.
When Demian arrived at the workshop following the servant, he couldn't help but marvel.
“Truly impressive.”
The walls were high and long. Black smoke billowed from all five chimneys.
He had rarely seen a workshop this massive in his life.
“His late predecessor the duke put great effort into building it. He recruited many renowned artisans of the era to lay the foundation. Only knights of the duke's house may use it.”
The servant introduced the workshop proudly.
Demian could hardly wait any longer. He pushed open the workshop door and stepped inside first.
Inside, numerous artisans wrestled with iron ingots at the forges.
“Huh? We have visitors?”
“Someone from the duke's house?”
A few blacksmiths glanced at Demian and the servant.
“We're here on His Excellency's orders. To commission a sword for this gentleman.”
The artisans murmured at the servant's explanation.
“We can't take this lightly if it's His Excellency's guest.”
“Master! Where are you? The master has to handle this!”
From among the artisans, a short, stocky man stepped forward.
“Name's Brody. I run the workshop.”
Brody led the way as he spoke.
“This way, please. I'll show you to the armory.”
Demian and the servant followed Brody deeper into the workshop.
Entering the warehouse, Demian was amazed once more.
‘Magnificent.’
Perfectly forged armaments hung everywhere. Not a single one was subpar.
Demian excitedly toured the interior, inspecting every weapon one by one.
‘Hm?’
While browsing, a peculiar item caught his eye.
It looked like a longsword at a glance.
But its blade was a bit longer. And there was a gap in the center of the blade.
Two blades extended from the hilt and converged at the tip.
It was a design that would make anyone question its durability and performance.
‘Well, now.’
But Demian's reaction was different.
‘Why is the Sword Ecstasy House's signature weapon here?’