Duel (3)
“Ugh…!”
A fierce pain throbbed in my head as I awoke, clutching it while scanning my surroundings.
Considerable time must have passed; the Third Training Ground, which had been brightly lit before I blacked out, was now shrouded in thick darkness.
As I slowly rose in the gloom, I stepped on a fragment of the shattered hammer on the ground and thought:
…I lost.
I’d experienced defeat before in my life.
Sparring with Father, my brothers, and other knights, I’d suffered countless losses.
But never had a defeat felt as bitter and irredeemable as this one.
“Ugh…!!”
By tomorrow, rumors would surely spread far and wide: the daughter of the von Grind family had recklessly challenged him to a duel and lost to some lowly baronet.
And not just that—the humiliating fact that I’d survived only by his mercy, despite being the one who’d demanded the duel.
The thought that our family’s honor could be tarnished over something so trivial made a surge of pent-up rage erupt from my lips.
“Ughhhh…!! Aaaahhh!!”
“Whoa, you scared me! What the hell?! What’s going on?!”
A sudden idiot’s voice from beside me made me whip my head around. There, peering down at me collapsed on the ground from beyond the darkness, was that man.
“What are you doing here…!”
“Can’t you tell? Oh, it’s so dark you can’t see, huh? I kept training even after the duel ended.”
Training with the person he’d knocked out right there beside him…? I’d thought it before, but was there something seriously wrong with this guy’s head?
I staggered to my feet, finally standing straight, and glared in his direction.
He approached slowly from where he stood, flashing a sleazy grin as he spoke.
“Now you get it, right? A mere roll-bread-haired lady can’t handle it, so I recommend tattling to Mommy and Daddy like a little kid.”
“…Is that your goal?”
“Huh?”
Thinking back, things had been off from the start.
Why would someone with this level of skill go out of his way to make an enemy of the von Grind family?
If he’d just bowed his head and played humble for a bit, he could’ve claimed a position and wealth befitting his talent.
If he hated bending the knee to weaklings like me, he could’ve just skipped the exchange meet altogether.
There was no time to hunt down every absent baronet for sanctions; we would’ve ignored him.
Yet this man had deliberately shown up at the exchange meet, pulled that stunt, and cornered me into a situation where I couldn’t back down.
Until now, I’d chalked it up to impulse or plain madness.
But even madmen have their own logic and reasons, incomprehensible as they might be.
So what were his reasons and motives? Unless he was suicidal, there had to be some gain driving him.
I hadn’t figured out what that gain was at first, but the answer had always been right in front of me.
“…Your goal is to kill my father.”
At first, I’d dismissed it as mere provocation—something he threw out to treat me like a child, knowing he’d never actually pull it off.
But looking back, he’d been relentlessly dragging Father into this, trying to force a duel between them.
“Come to think of it, you said your father passed away. Is that why you’re targeting mine?”
“What?”
The south was always a ravaged land, battered by monster hordes from untamed wilds and barbarian invasions.
Conscription orders came frequently to fend them off, and plenty died answering the call.
His father had likely fallen in battle against the barbarians, and he’d turned that grudge toward my father, who’d issued the order.
That’s why he kept provoking me—to draw Father into a duel with him.
It was absurd, but people who lost loved ones often lashed out at the wrong targets.
My anger softened slightly with pity for him, and I spoke to him quietly.
“Do you think pulling this foolish stunt will bring your father back?! Even if you get revenge, the dead don’t return!”
He hesitated at my words, then tilted his head and shot back.
“No, what the hell are you rambling about? Father? Revenge? Why’s my dad suddenly in this?”
I first thought he was playing dumb, but genuine bewilderment laced his voice.
Hearing it, I wondered if I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and asked:
“Oh… it’s not?”
“Well… I don’t even know where my dad died. During the funeral, I had to practice Battōjutsu, so I rushed through it and went to train.”
“……Pardon?”
Battōjutsu at his father’s funeral?
What the hell was he saying?
I couldn’t comprehend it and stared in confusion, but he continued without a care.
“You’re right that I’m targeting your father. But it’s not for some petty revenge.”
“Then why…?”
“Everything for Battōjutsu.”
…What in the world was he talking about?
“For Battōjutsu? What nonsense is that?! What does it have to do with killing my father?!”
“It has everything to do with it—why wouldn’t it?! Think about it: if I took down your father with Battōjutsu, what would happen?”
“What would…? Well…”
Of course, it’d never happen, but if it did, it’d cause a massive uproar.
A baronet—no, a mere academy student—beating the south’s strongest warrior, even handicapped by something as obscure as Battōjutsu.
“The fact that you defeated my father with Battōjutsu would spread far and wide.”
“Exactly!! That’s my goal!! Toppling famous powerhouses and showing the world the might of Battōjutsu!! That’s my purpose!!”
“…You’re serious?”
I asked, and without a flicker of hesitation, he nodded firmly.
Seeing that, I thought: This guy’s even less right in the head than I imagined.
It was natural for a swordsman to take pride in their skills, but this went beyond that.
And toppling all renowned powerhouses? That wasn’t just Father—it meant taking on everyone, even the Sword Saint.
“…Are you insane?”
“Does someone insane come up with a plan this perfect?”
They say madmen don’t know they’re mad, and he fit the bill perfectly.
His brazen confidence left me dumbfounded and furious. I yelled at him.
“Perfect plan? What perfect plan?! This is just deranged madness!!”
“It’s not madness—it’s a revolution!! A revolution to restore Battōjutsu to its rightful place!!”
What followed was a torrent of ravings I couldn’t comprehend with my common sense—nor did I want to.
Friction turning into speed and power, spreading Battōjutsu to fix this broken world…
Every word made me question his sanity.
And while I acknowledged his strength, he was still just a student.
He had talent, sure; maybe in the distant future he’d stand a chance. But now? Not a prayer.
“You’re just a frog in a well! You think you can beat my father right now?!”
“If things go as I imagine, I’d probably die. But so what?”
“……Pardon?”
“For Battōjutsu, I don’t care if I die.”
His eyes held no tremor or doubt as he said it—pure, almost innocent resolve. Looking into them, I thought:
“You mad bastard…”
It was vulgar slang I’d never uttered in my life, but it slipped out naturally.
I knew it would only tarnish my dignity, but I couldn’t stop. “Mad bastard” kept spilling out.
“Mad bastard… mad bastard…!!”
Father or one of my brothers had once said it: to beat a madman, you have to become an even madder one.
“Hoo…”
I took a deep breath and pointed the hammer’s broken hilt at the man—Ian.
“I won’t yield to a lunatic like you. Abandon any hope that I’ll go crying to Father!!”
“And if you don’t? After all this humiliation, you gonna just let it slide?”
“No, I won’t give that up either. I’ll make you pay dearly! But I’ll do it with my own strength!”
“So how? Challenge me to another duel?”
“Yes, I will. As many times as it takes until I win!! Until I smash your skull with my hammer—as many times as it takes!!”
He smirked, clearly amused by my declaration.
“Fine, bring it! I’ll accept anytime!! But… you know what happens if you lose, right?”
“Y-Yes, I know! No matter the humiliation, I’ll overcome it and crush your head!”
To beat a madman, become a madder one. Even if I’m branded a madwoman, I’ll avenge myself with my own hands.
“…Then I’ll look forward to it! Come challenge me again as soon as you can!!”
With that, he tried to leave the Third Training Ground, passing me by—but before going, he picked up a lock of my hair from the ground and said:
“Oh, can I take this? I’ve always wanted roll-bread hair!”
“……”
Could this guy get any crazier?