Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: 36. Someone (1)
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Amunson's wooden sword struck first. Simon took a hit to the shoulder and let out a scream.
"Kuh!"
Simon hurriedly backed away, trying to regain his stance. But with his right shoulder injured, his arm hung limp, and he struggled to lift his sword.
Amunson sensed it instinctively.
I can't give him any more time.
An injury sustained in a duel wasn't cowardly. This was the moment to seize victory.
"Die!"
Amunson roared wildly, gripping his wooden sword with both hands and raising it high.
And in the instant he swung it down...
"Hah!"
Simon, who had looked ready to collapse at any moment, suddenly sprang back to full health and thrust his sword into Amunson's gut.
The arm that had seemed injured was now moving as freely as ever.
Amunson folded forward from the pain surging from his belly and muttered,
"Cowardly..."
Then he crumpled to the ground.
"...ly done."
Simon had won.
He stylishly swung his wooden sword through the air before sheathing it behind his back like it was going into a scabbard.
"Good match, Amunson."
Simon closed his eyes, savoring the thrill of victory.
It was the secret technique Yuri had taught him: the Miracle of Feigned Injury.
A dark art that deceived the enemy to create the perfect counterattack opportunity.
It wasn't as easy as it looked.
It required evenly matched skills, the improvisation to turn the enemy's attack into part of your own technique, and outstanding acting ability.
Above all, it demanded luck.
Everything had aligned perfectly, fooling Amunson completely. The price of his rashness was death.
Not literal death, of course.
"Uh..."
"That was..."
Simon had executed the feigned injury so boldly that the spectators were flustered, unsure how to react.
"It must have actually hurt, right?"
Someone spoke up.
This wasn't just a spar—it was a match before the entire continent, with Brioll's honor on the line. Would a knight resort to tricks here?
With that naive line of thinking, the crowd began to shape public opinion in a positive direction.
"Yeah, it probably hurt for real, but he gritted his teeth and got back up."
"Guy's got grit."
"Anyone would think it didn't hurt at all. Hahaha..."
Simon said nothing, just looked at Yuri. Yuri smiled back at him.
Simon bowed deeply to Yuri with even greater reverence.
Graham, who had been standing silently, declared Simon's victory.
"Victory to Brioll."
Graham, having watched the duel up close, had roughly figured out the trick. But he believed even duels should mimic real combat, so he didn't overturn the result.
Simon won, Amunson lost.
That was all.
Before anyone could raise an objection, Gonte stood and clapped.
"What a shame to lose. But you fought well, Amunson. Accept defeat like a true knight. It was a splendid match."
Yuri quickly seized the praise.
"What does victory or defeat matter? What's important is that two fine knights crossed swords and learned from each other. I just got lucky—if Sir Amunson had drunk one less cup, it'd be Simon on the ground."
"Thank you for your kind words!"
"No, thank you!"
Yuri and Gonte clapped for each other and shared a laugh.
And with that, the wager between the two nations ended.
Joachim would send a knight to Brioll for training unlike any before.
Jared, sensing some scheme at play, muttered beside him.
"To think such a cheap trick worked..."
Yuri elbowed him and shoved people's backs, shouting,
"Come on, let's get back to the feast! The victor ought to revel. Even those orc bastards who went to the afterlife are probably toasting our party with boiling hellwater!"
Yuri was thrilled to personally train a new ally against the Empire, and Gonte was pleased to reshape the minds of his weak-willed young generation.
The rest had simply enjoyed the show.
It was a victory for all but one.
Amunson lay forgotten on the ground, cooling in the chill night air.
The feast ended.
Everyone returned to their lodgings, and Balshard’s lights winked out one by one.
The night grew quiet.
Marilrose sat on her bed, humming a tune as she brushed her hair.
Suddenly, the brush caught on a tangle.
"Ow."
She scrunched her brow.
"Ugh, annoying."
Marilrose yanked the brush free and tossed it onto the bedding.
"What's so annoying?"
"You."
Hernando was already leaning against the window frame.
Marilrose grumbled.
"What's with barging into a lady's bedroom uninvited? Have you no manners?"
"You knew I was coming."
"I didn't call you."
"I still gave warning."
"Should've dispelled it."
Before Hernando entered, the mana in the room had flowed unnaturally—a warning of sorts.
"The one I actually want to come doesn't show..."
"Dream on."
"How do you know who I mean?"
Hernando shot Marilrose a light glare.
"I thought it was a joke at first, but now it's worrying."
"It was never a joke."
"You're still young."
"Oh ho..."
Marilrose narrowed her eyes at Hernando.
"You serious?"
"About what?"
"I figured you just stuck around out of curiosity, but you actually care? Is that okay?"
"Third party or not, the reaction would be the same."
"Nope. Want me to call the person in question and ask?"
"Good grief..."
Hernando rubbed his temple and sighed.
"Enough."
"Oh, so you're giving permission?"
"Cut the nonsense. I came for this."
"What's that?"
Hernando scanned the room, then spread mana to erect a barrier.
Marilrose tilted her head.
It wasn't just soundproofing—it blocked magical auras from leaking out.
Hernando pulled a parchment from his robe and placed it on the windowsill table.
"Come see."
"Give it to me."
"Come see."
"Really?"
"Marilrose."
His serious expression made her stand.
"Fine, fine."
"Deploy mental defenses."
"Pardon?"
"Then look."
The atmosphere felt off.
Marilrose finally glanced at the parchment on the table.
...
She stepped back.
Her pupils trembled.
"What the hell is that..."
Hernando just shook his head.
Marilrose wrapped herself in mental defenses and cautiously approached.
The closer she got, the more labored her breathing became.
Darkness encroached on the edges of her vision.
Amid the surging black aura, only the weathered parchment on the table floated hazily.
Marilrose chanted another spell.
White light enveloped her, pushing back the unidentified darkness.
She stood before the table, staring at the parchment.
It was covered in dense, unknown script.
Suddenly, whispers began from behind her. She first thought it was Hernando. But they drew closer.
Now the voice brushed her nape.
Her body stiffened; she couldn't move.
It slithered up her neck and murmured directly into her ear.
...
Marilrose's reason blurred.
The script on the parchment writhed like worms, twisting together into the shape of a living tower.
A black tower piercing the heavens.
Against a blood-red world, it grew slowly.
An eye opened in its center.
The whispers grew louder.
The sound shook her head.
She didn't want to hear it anymore, but she was rooted in place.
Marilrose exhaled the breath she'd held and shouted,
"Aegis!"
Brilliant light erupted from her body.
The eerie whispers and mind-clouding hallucinations faded. Only the eye in the tower lingered, glaring at her until it finally dissolved.
Marilrose layered mana seals over the parchment. Even then, evil energy tried to seep out.
"Seal, seal, seal, seal!"
She irritably chanted, wrapping it in multiple layers.
Catching her breath, Marilrose turned to Hernando.
"What is this thing?"
Her face was flushed, sweat trickling down her neck.
"Damn, I just bathed."
She wiped her brow and neck with a handkerchief before continuing.
"Lucky it was me—if it were an average person, their mind would've been corrupted. What the hell is it?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Where'd you get it?"
"Okua's corpse."
Hernando approached the table, arms crossed.
"It was left there."
Under Marilrose's magic, the multi-sealed parchment now looked like an innocuous antique with indecipherable script.
"He turned into a mass of corpses, he said."
"Yes."
"After Longinus pierced it..."
"You used Longinus? Without lifting the restrictions?"
"Linked all the Allied Forces mages. They were skilled."
"And?"
"I went to check out of curiosity how it happened, and faint evil energy was rising. Longinus had temporarily drained its power."
"Even after Longinus, it was like that..."
"Sealed it the moment I saw it."
"Anyone else finding it would've driven multiples insane."
Marilrose picked up the parchment and fluttered it.
"Fragment of a black grimoire?"
"Likely."
Hernando stared at her intently.
"What do you think."
"About what?"
"Can you translate it?"
She immediately flung it back onto the table.
"No thanks."
"Marilrose. This is important."
Hernando picked it up again and held it out.
"Look here."
He pointed to the torn edge.
"As you said, it's a fragment. Might not end with one sheet."
"Someone gave this to Okua?"
"I hope not, but it's likely."
"Maybe he just picked it up randomly in the plains?"
"He used black magic. He knew how to handle it. Too dangerous to chalk up to coincidence."
"Sigh..."
Marilrose sighed.
"Fine. It's completely unfamiliar script, so no guarantees..."
"When's the Transcendent Interpretation complete?"
"It's not like I can just do it whenever."
"At least partially."
"True, but this is different. It's dangerous even untouched—think it'll work straightforwardly?"
"I see."
"Hand it over. I'll try."
Marilrose placed her hand on the parchment.
"But you know."
"Hm?"
"If someone gave it to him, the timing's awfully convenient, right?"
Hernando didn't respond.
Marilrose leaned on the table with a grin.
"If our prince hadn't pulled off that impossible feat, and if that outsider hadn't joined by chance, the Allied Forces might've ended up as live sacrifices?"
"What are you getting at?"
"All those troops marched right into the maw of the orc king who just happened to have that thing?"
She opened the window.
Cold night wind blew in.
Gazing at Balshard's dark landscape, Marilrose continued.
"Can't guess who gave it?"
"Stop."
Hernando closed the window with a stern face.
"Don't say more. Dangerous thoughts."
"Why?"
"Not another word."
Hernando stepped away from her.
"My request is just to interpret it as best you can. Nothing more. Report back when done."
"Got it."
"Then I'm leaving."
As Hernando gathered mana again...
Knock, knock, knock.
They both turned.
Someone was knocking.
The visitor politely knocked once more.
Knock, knock, knock.
Hernando glanced at Marilrose. She shrugged and mouthed, Beats me.
The person outside fell silent, no more knocks.
Marilrose muttered softly.
"Gone...?"
Hernando suddenly thrust his hand out.
"No, the opposite."
He flung the door open with mana.
Revealing the intruder standing there.
Hernando sighed.
"At least knock three times properly."
Yuri, mid-kick prep, scratched his head and lowered his foot.
"This is embarrassing."