Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Ipari Plains (3)
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“Duke Pavel Vermond.”
The duke knew the names and skills of all the knights participating in the duels.
That was why, upon hearing the name Pavel Vermond, he immediately recalled who he was.
“I’ve heard he’s one of the better ones among the duel candidates.”
“You’ve heard correctly, Your Grace.”
“If Sir Demian recommends him, his skills must be solid, but…”
The duke trailed off.
As revealed in Fabian Vincenzo’s duel, the marquis’s knights were far superior to those of the duke’s house.
Even sending Pavel Vermond out, the duke couldn’t be certain of victory, leaving him no choice but to hesitate.
“Your Grace, the duke’s knights are strong, but they’re all low-class in the end. There’s no reason we’d be at a disadvantage.”
Demian Haksen began persuading the duke.
“Sir Pavel Vermond has prepared extensively with me for this duel. He won’t lose to any opponent.”
If the knight sent out this time lost, defeat would be sealed.
Despite the risk of being blamed as the culprit of defeat, Demian Haksen seemed utterly unconcerned.
That attitude instilled a strange sense of trust in the duke.
“Very well, I’ll trust your word. Have Pavel Vermond step forward.”
At the duke’s command, Pavel Vermond walked out. His face was pale from extreme tension.
“Pavel Vermond. Sir Demian Haksen has recommended you. Do you have the confidence to live up to that expectation?”
Pavel Vermond didn’t answer rashly. After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke.
“…Yes. I’ll bring victory even if it costs my life.”
The duke smiled in satisfaction at the response.
“Good. Go fight and return.”
Pavel Vermond drew his sword and headed to the plain.
* * *
The marquis’s side cheered relentlessly until Pavel Vermond stepped forward.
When Pavel Vermond reached the center of the plain where the dueling ground was set, the marquis raised his fist high.
The soldiers’ cheers cut off abruptly. It was astonishing command.
A moment later, a knight emerged from the marquis’s formation.
He was a handsome knight with tanned skin.
A greatsword was slung across his back, and his face brimmed with confidence.
‘…He’s stronger than me.’
The moment Pavel Vermond laid eyes on him, he instinctively realized it. This knight was stronger than he was.
“I’m Huey Selection. And you?”
The marquis’s knight asked Pavel. Pavel Vermond steadied his breath before replying.
“…Pavel Vermond.”
The moment he heard the name, Huey Selection let out a long sigh.
“What’s this, a name I’ve never heard? I was hoping for someone famous. Beating a nobody like you won’t get me any recognition.”
Huey Selection shook his head. Unlike the first knight, his speech and mannerisms were extremely casual.
“Why not Demian Haksen instead? That guy’s pretty famous. Fighting him would be fun.”
Demian Haksen.
At the mention of that name, Pavel Vermond couldn’t help but smirk.
Seeing that, Huey Selection nodded and asked,
“What’s so funny?”
“A mangy dog barking about a tiger. How could it not be amusing?”
Huey Selection was strong. But not on Demian Haksen’s level.
Demian Haksen’s strength transcended common sense. There couldn’t be another monster like him.
“Some no-name thinking he can rile me up.”
Huey Selection lifted the greatsword from his back.
The long, thick blade came out as easily as a tree branch.
At the same time, Huey Selection unleashed his mana. A powerful aura surged forth. It felt like a blast of hot wind.
“…Damn.”
Pavel Vermond muttered under his breath.
He’d hoped otherwise. But as expected, the man was stronger than him.
Could he really win in a fight? Thick despair and doubt filled Pavel Vermond’s chest.
“Hey, what’s with standing there frozen? Tense up and stay alert. Otherwise… you’ll get taken down like this in an instant!”
Suddenly, Huey kicked off the ground. He charged at astonishing speed, aiming the pommel of his sword at Pavel Vermond’s solar plexus.
Just before impact, Pavel Vermond blocked the pommel with the flat of his longsword. His body was pushed back.
“Oh… so you’ve got some skill?”
Huey Selection said admiringly. It sounded like an elder praising a junior.
“Why so quiet? Too shocked?”
As Huey Selection said, Pavel Vermond was too stunned to speak.
But the reason for his shock wasn’t the surprise attack from Huey Selection.
‘…It’s similar.’
The technique Huey Selection had just shown was the same one Demian Haksen used.
Whenever Pavel Vermond closed in during spars, Demian Haksen would casually strike his solar plexus with the pommel.
‘…Coincidence?’
Using the pommel instead of the blade was a common tactic in many sword styles.
That was why Pavel Vermond couldn’t be certain.
“This might actually be fun!”
Huey Selection charged at Pavel Vermond. He closed the distance in an instant and raised his greatsword.
Huey Selection swung the greatsword down. The speed was so immense it tore through the air.
Pavel Vermond reflexively retreated. The greatsword struck the ground with a hair’s breadth to spare.
The greatsword smashed into the earth. The ground was gouged, and dust enveloped the two.
“Let’s see if you can dodge this too!”
Right after, the greatsword burst through the dust. Swept horizontally, it targeted Pavel Vermond’s side.
But Pavel Vermond was already in a defensive stance. He blocked the incoming greatsword with his blade.
“…You blocked that too?”
A hint of fluster appeared on Huey Selection’s face for the first time.
‘…Impossible.’
But Pavel Vermond was even more shocked.
‘This is similar too?’
Demian Haksen always followed an overhead strike with a charging horizontal slash.
During their spars, the ground was stone, so no dust rose.
Even so, it was a technique he’d endured countless times, so his body reacted instinctively.
At this point, it wasn’t just similar. It was identical.
‘I’ve heard the marquis’s knights train in the Lion’s Guard Sword… How did Demian Haksen know the Lion’s Guard Sword?’
In that instant, a possibility flashed in Pavel Vermond’s mind.
Spy.
Perhaps Demian Haksen was a spy sent by the marquis’s house?
‘…Ridiculous thought.’
But Pavel Vermond immediately dismissed the notion.
Two days ago, after sparring ended, Demian Haksen had said to the duel knights:
-Rest for the remaining two days and thoroughly review what I taught you.
Demian Haksen’s advice had been immensely helpful. Repeatedly mulling over his movements allowed him to dodge Huey Selection’s attacks like this.
‘No spy would reveal their house’s secrets to an enemy family.’
That left only one possibility.
‘…He stole it and learned it.’
He’d heard of such things.
Among geniuses, some could replicate an opponent’s movements just by watching.
For a genius like Demian Haksen, it was entirely plausible.
‘No, Demian Haksen didn’t just replicate it…’
Though it was the same Lion’s Guard Sword, Demian Haksen’s version was far superior. Huey Selection’s looked like child’s play.
‘He stole the marquis’s secret technique, mastered it, and surpassed their knights?’
Chills ran down his spine. In that moment, Pavel Vermond’s body stiffened briefly.
“Focus, I said!”
Huey Selection didn’t miss the opening. He swung the greatsword down at Pavel Vermond’s crown.
This too was a technique he’d suffered endlessly from Demian Haksen.
Pavel Vermond parried the greatsword with his blade and smoothly deflected it.
“You little…!”
Huey Selection pressed Pavel Vermond even harder. The greatsword moved without respite.
Yet none of the strikes landed on Pavel Vermond.
Pavel Vermond evaded the greatsword with eerie naturalness. He countered the final attack with his sword.
A sharp clash rang out as the blades met, sending the greatsword rebounding.
“Ugh?”
Fluster crossed Huey Selection’s face. Pavel Vermond seized the moment.
For the first time since the duel began, after only retreating, Pavel Vermond advanced.
He unleashed his swordsmanship, in turn pressuring Huey Selection.
“Urk, grr!”
Huey Selection wasn’t even resisting—he was barely blocking Pavel Vermond’s attacks.
He was being overwhelmed by an opponent he’d dismissed as inferior.
Humiliation flushed Huey Selection’s face red.
“Enough already!”
More power surged into Huey Selection’s greatsword. Pavel Vermond noticed immediately.
The longsword and greatsword tangled complexly. Pavel Vermond pushed with all his strength, batting the greatsword aside.
The greatsword flew from Huey Selection’s grasp, sailing far away.
Huey Selection stared blankly at his empty hand. Then, a blade touched his nape.
“My victory.”
Pavel Vermond declared calmly, sword pointed.
“Waaaaah!”
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Thunderous cheers greeted Pavel Vermond.
The immense roar made his entire body tingle.
Pavel Vermond sheathed his sword and turned toward the duke’s side.
The cheers grew even louder. Something swelled in his chest.
Then, his eyes caught Demian Haksen.
Unlike the duke’s people, who were overjoyed beyond measure, Demian Haksen wore an utterly calm expression.
As if he’d foreseen this outcome.
‘Demian Haksen…’
His elation plummeted.
Dread and fear filled the void.
‘Just who… what are you?’
Trembling, Pavel Vermond posed a question that would never be answered.
* * *
“To think Sir Pavel Vermond would win so splendidly.”
The Goldpixie Duke spoke up.
An unconcealed smile overflowed on his face.
“Sir Demian’s judgment was spot on.”
“Sir Pavel Vermond simply performed well.”
“And it was you who recognized and recommended that Pavel Vermond.”
The duke nodded and added,
“Unlike someone who foisted a failure on us due to poor judgment.”
At the duke’s barbed words, Sebastian Vincenzo bowed his head.
“Now only the representatives’ duel remains. Confident?”
To the duke’s question, Demian replied nonchalantly.
“Well, I’ll handle it adequately.”
* * *
“…Please kill me.”
Huey Selection prostrated himself before the marquis and spoke.
“How can you say such a thing? You gave your all. The opponent was simply stronger.”
The marquis comforted Huey Selection.
Punishing a knight who had fought for the house was unthinkable.
“And don’t take it too hard. Victory is ours anyway.”
The marquis turned his head.
A short distance away stood Michael Ryanbloom.
Michael Ryanbloom stared silently at the plain.
“…Your Grace is right.”
Huey Selection spoke with a face full of admiration.
To the marquis’s knights, Michael Ryanbloom was a symbol of invincibility.
“Go rest now.”
Huey Selection bowed and withdrew.
The marquis approached Michael.
Even as his father drew near, Michael Ryanbloom continued gazing at the plain.
“Michael.”
Even when the marquis called, it was the same. The marquis let out a long sigh.
He was about to call his son’s name again.
“Father, doesn’t it seem strange?”
Michael suddenly spoke.
“Huey was stronger than the duke’s knight. Two moves? No, three moves superior, I’d confidently say.”
The marquis agreed with Michael. As a high-class himself, he judged Huey Selection the stronger.
Physique, mana, technique, experience—everything.
They were leagues above the duke’s pampered, insignificant lot.
“But he lost. And not just lost—he was overwhelmed.”
The duke’s knight had blocked every one of Huey Selection’s strikes. He seized unilateral dominance and claimed victory.
No different from a dog devouring a wolf.
“It means the duke’s knight saw through the Lion’s Guard Sword completely. But isn’t it odd? He didn’t seem that talented.”
The marquis nodded at his son’s words.
“I thought the same. Perhaps the Lion’s Guard Sword leaked somehow. When we return, I’ll investigate thoroughly…”
“Father, that’s not it.”
Michael denied the marquis’s words.
“The Lion’s Guard Sword didn’t leak. That man figured it out. Figured it out and taught it.”
Only then did the marquis realize who Michael was looking at.
Demian Haksen.
He was staring solely at that man.
“Isn’t it amazing? The Lion’s Guard Sword isn’t some low-level technique. It’s been endlessly refined and improved by our ancestors. Not only did he see through it, he taught it to other knights.”
Something ordinary talent could never dream of.
Impossible even for most geniuses.
“Father, you know, this is the first time in my life my heart has pounded like this.”
Michael placed a hand on his chest. His face was slightly flushed.
“I’ve finally found someone of my caliber.”
The marquis looked at his son with a complicated expression.
He’d originally planned to earnestly urge him to win no matter what.
But he couldn’t bring himself to douse his son’s eager anticipation.
Above all, it seemed unnecessary.
“Michael, go enjoy yourself to the fullest.”
At his father’s words, Michael picked up his sword.
* * *
As he walked to the dueling ground, Michael Ryanbloom could feel his heart pounding fiercely.
‘Finally, I’ve met him.’
Michael Ryanbloom’s life could be summed up in one word.
Boredom.
The first time he gripped a sword, anticipation swelled within him.
Learning swordsmanship from his father for the first time was so fun he thought he’d go mad.
Meeting senior knights filled him with such curiosity he felt he’d lose his mind.
But as days of swinging the sword accumulated, that anticipation and interest quickly faded.
Simply put, it was too easy.
The swordsmanship his father taught, he could mimic after one look.
Knights said to be stronger proved underwhelming in actual fights.
At some point, Michael Ryanbloom stopped going near the training grounds.
He let go of his sword. Ennui and lethargy set in.
‘I found him.’
He’d thought a worthy rival or arch-nemesis would never appear.
But today, in an unexpected place, he’d met one.
A genius with talent matching his own.
A knight who would be his perfect match.
Michael Ryanbloom stood before Demian Haksen.
“I’m Michael Ryanbloom.”
Michael greeted him, suppressing his excitement. Demian Haksen yawned before replying.
“Demian Haksen.”
Michael Ryanbloom felt a laugh bubbling up.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you.”
He wanted nothing more than to draw his sword right then.
But this was a precious rival he’d barely met.
He wanted to observe proper etiquette.
“Someone to fight me on equal terms, my equal.”
Michael Ryanbloom gripped his sword hilt. His heart pounded wildly.
“I beg you earnestly. Please don’t disappoint me.”
Michael Ryanbloom drew his sword. The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
“Equal?”
Demian Haksen spat out a single word.
“Have you not fully awakened your talent? Otherwise, there’s no way you’d say something like that.”
What came from Demian Haksen’s mouth utterly defied Michael Ryanbloom’s expectations.
“No helping it. I’ll have to come down to your level a bit.”
What was he saying?
Michael Ryanbloom was about to ask when—
Suddenly, a chill gripped the back of his neck. Like rough hands yanking his nape.
Ominous dread, crisis, terror.
All emotions exploded upward.
Michael Ryanbloom drew his sword without thinking. He tried to point it at Demian Haksen.
No, he tried to.
The tip wouldn’t rise. It froze pointing downward.
He couldn’t even aim, let alone look properly at Demian Haksen.
His whole body shuddered. Cold sweat dripped onto the ground.
“Michael Ryanbloom.”
Demian Haksen said softly.
To Michael Ryanbloom, it pierced his ears like an awl.
“Do you still see me as your equal?”
The sword fell to the ground.
Before Michael Ryanbloom realized he’d dropped it, his knees hit the dirt.
“I… lost…”
His mouth moved on its own. Michael Ryanbloom couldn’t even think to cover it.
“I surrender…”
The third duel.
Its victor was decided.