Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Translator: Penny
Chapter 20
Warrior's Qualification (Part 1)
People often said:
The reincarnation of the ancient demigod Heclaitus.
The Kingdom of Astraria's strongest warrior.
Wolfgang von Ulfert.
Standing at 2.5 meters tall with a physique like a bull or bear, Wolfgang was born a serf, not a noble.
Months after his parents abandoned their home, villagers found him asleep, suckling wolf's milk, when they went to sell the abandoned house.
The villagers reported this to the Village Chief, who informed the Estate Manager, who notified the Collector, who finally reported to the Lord of the estate.
Intrigued, the Lord brought Wolfgang to his castle. Recognizing the boy's extraordinary strength, he decided to raise him as his own knight.
However, Wolfgang had absolutely no talent for handling weapons.
In the end, instead of becoming an outstanding knight, he gained recognition for his wrestling and martial arts skills, achieving the remarkable feat of being granted a noble title.
He became the first nobleman in the Kingdom of Astraria to receive a title for martial arts rather than swordsmanship.
"I heard that Count Agron defeated a Troll Warrior last time. That's why I was so eager to meet you."
"Hmm, I see. I've also seen your name in books."
"In books...? What an honor!"
Wolfgang tilted his head slightly at Agron's words, then broke into a satisfied smile.
Agron often read books detailing the exploits of powerful figures active in kingdoms and empires.
"But Sir, what brings you all the way here? Did you really come just to see Agron's face?"
Lawrence eyed Wolfgang warily, his gaze filled with suspicion.
Could this belligerent gambler truly have traveled so far for such a trivial reason?
"...Yes, that's correct," Wolfgang replied stiffly, nodding with a rigid expression.
Seeing this, Agron smiled faintly and remarked, "That doesn't sound very convincing."
"Huh?"
"If you're going to give such an answer, at least try to control your energy."
"..."
As Agron pointed out, a subtle yet fiery fighting spirit radiated from Wolfgang's body, like the heat from a blacksmith's forge. He seemed to be holding back his muscles and energy, as if ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
"You look like you want to fight right now. Shall we have a match?"
"Wait, hold on! Just a minute!"
Just as Wolfgang was about to bare his teeth at Agron's probing remark, Lawrence squeezed between them.
With a gesture, Lawrence gently pushed Wolfgang back, then pulled Agron toward the terrace.
"Hey, are you out of your mind?"
"I've thought about it for a moment, and I don't think I'm mentally unstable."
"Damn it, that's not what I meant! Do you even know who he is?"
"Hmm, I guess you didn't hear when we introduced ourselves. Wolfgang von—"
"No, I know! I know!"
"Then why are you asking me? Maybe you should check if you're the one who's lost it."
This bastard!
Lawrence clenched his jaw and glared at Agron.
He'd forgotten just how infuriating Agron could be in the short time they'd been apart.
"He's the strongest and best close-combat fighter in the Kingdom of Astraria! He's the guy who wins tournaments in other countries and comes back victorious!"
"Oh, a formidable warrior indeed. I like him."
"How are we supposed to fight someone like that? I know you're good against monsters, but fighting a person is different, right?"
Lawrence recalled what he had learned during his swordsmanship training at the royal court:
Man-to-man combat is different from Monster Combat.
The techniques for fighting humans and monsters were distinct. Just because someone excelled at one didn't mean they would be equally skilled at the other.
In fact, there had been an absurd incident where a wandering knight who had swept tournaments across the land was hired by a Lord to exterminate monsters, only to be killed by a Goblin.
Of course, most of the training knights received focused on human combat, while Monster Combat was typically practiced by mercenaries or those from frontier fiefs bordering the Demonic Realm.
Therefore, Lawrence assumed Agron had learned his swordsmanship in the frontier.
"You've only fought monsters, right? He's only fought people. What do you think you're going to accomplish against someone like that?"
"A true warrior never shies away from a challenge."
Lawrence stared at his opponent with a dumbfounded expression.
I was wrong, completely wrong. He's already made up his mind.
He shook his head and sighed.
"Alright, then I'll mediate between you two. Got it?"
"You're not going to challenge me?"
"Why the hell would I fight you, you bastard!"
"Hmph, you're such a girly coward."
This son of a bitch!
Lawrence glared at him, clenching his fists.
He dragged Agron back toward Wolfgang.
"Hey, Sir Wolfgang."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Agron has... agreed to fight."
"Thank you! Then let's settle this right here and now—"
"Whoa!... Hold on!" Lawrence quickly stopped Wolfgang, who was about to strip off his shirt.
Wolfgang reluctantly buttoned his shirt back up, looking disappointed.
This guy's a lunatic too. Are all brawlers this crazy?
Lawrence alternated disgusted glances between Agron and Wolfgang.
"The duel will be one-on-one, held in the Count's training grounds. I'll be the witness, and there will be no spectators. How does that sound?"
"Yes, that's fine."
Wolfgang was slightly disappointed that no one would witness the fight, but he nodded in satisfaction at the prospect of finally battling Agron.
Lawrence, on the other hand, was determined to arrange the duel in a way that would minimize any harm to Agron.
If Agron were to be defeated in front of a large crowd, the New Count's position would plummet.
For my sake, and for his, that can't happen.
King Decker had taken a liking to Agron, and Lawrence himself was growing closer to the throne thanks to Agron's influence.
If he were to falter, Lawrence's chances of succeeding to the throne would diminish, and he would lose the power he had so painstakingly acquired.
"We should probably put something at stake."
"At stake...?"
"Sir, if you win against Agron, it's a win-win for you. But if Agron loses to you, he'll suffer a loss, and even if he wins, he'll only break even."
"Ah..."
Wolfgang, who hadn't considered this, readily agreed.
Even without spectators, they were still a Count and a Baron.
Though billed as a friendly match, the competition carried significant risks.
"Understood. But I'm not sure what to wager."
"Well, money, treasure—"
At that moment, Agron, who had been listening quietly, interrupted Lawrence.
"If I lose, I will fight for you in the political arena or on the battlefield, whenever you wish."
"...?!"
"So, if I win, you will come under my banner."
"Hey...!"
Agron's proposal was remarkably audacious.
A Count could never lower himself to serve under a Baron's banner, but he could certainly fight for him. Moreover, a Count's influence meant that more than just his family would join the cause; countless followers would rally to his side.
Furthermore, Baron Wolfgang was the strongest warrior who had never served under anyone's banner. He had risen to his current position through his own strength, trusting no one but the King to whom he owed his loyalty.
Agron's proposal, whether Lawrence liked it or not, was a game-changer that would completely upend his situation.
Checkmate... If Wolfgang wins, Agron will become his patron. If Wolfgang loses, I'll have to pledge allegiance to Agron's banner.
Lawrence inwardly clicked his tongue at Agron's audacity.
This brutish fool usually spouts nonsense, but when it truly matters, he comes up with schemes more cunning than those of seasoned nobles.
This wasn't something one could learn through study; it was the innate nature of a born politician.
Having grown up surrounded by countless nobles since childhood, Lawrence instinctively recognized that Agron's ambitions wouldn't be confined to this remote border region.
"Yes, Your Excellency! I will do as you command!"
"Hey, Sir! Are you sure about this?" Lawrence asked, surprised by Wolfgang's remarkably cool response.
"Yes, Your Excellency. It seems like a proposal that benefits both of us."
This fool is even more clueless than I thought, Lawrence clicked his tongue inwardly.
Wolfgang was clearly no politician, lacking the necessary cunning and experience.
In Lawrence's eyes, whether Agron won or lost this fight, it would ultimately be Agron's victory.
"Hmm, and there's one more modification I'd like to make," Agron said to Lawrence.
"What is it?"
"We'll do it in front of all the nobles gathered here."
"...What?!"
"I'm fine with that."
They didn't bother moving to another location.
Instead, they cleared a large space in the center of the banquet hall and stood there.
"What's going on?"
"I heard Count Agron, the new Head of House, and Baron Wolfgang are going to duel."
"What? Baron Wolfgang? You mean the one who's said to be Heclaitus reincarnated?"
"Exactly. The Kingdom's greatest martial artist."
"But why would His Excellency, the Count, fight someone like that? He doesn't stand a chance!"
The nobles couldn't hide their excitement at the sudden spectacle.
Throughout history, people had always been captivated by violent events like knightly tournaments, gladiatorial contests, and public executions.
Why else would a fief with simmering unrest deliberately invite a gladiatorial troupe or stage a public execution of prisoners?
Providing entertainment, even temporarily, could quell the people's discontent.
"Ugh, are you really going through with this?" Lawrence whispered into Agron's ear.
This was as foolish as a moth flying into a flame.
Lawrence's gaze shifted to Wolfgang.
Having stripped off his shirt and changed his pants, Wolfgang now resembled a massive beast. His colossal muscles bulged vividly, as if a bear had donned human skin.
Lawrence suddenly recalled his first encounter with a Troll Warrior.
"Hey, I already told you—no killing allowed. Tap out if it hurts too much."
"Nonsense. A warrior never surrenders, even in death—"
"Hey, you bastard! This is a non-lethal match!"
"Hmm, understood," Agron nodded with an impassive expression.
"But did you really have to do this in front of everyone?"
"It's necessary. A warrior doesn't hide his pride and strength."
"Show-off, you bastard."
"And if I win, wouldn't that benefit you too?"
Lawrence stared at Agron with a dumbfounded expression, like a mute who'd swallowed a mouthful of honey.
"Support me. Who knows? You might get one step closer to the throne thanks to me."
Agron chuckled and stripped off his tunic.
"Ooh—!"
"Eek...!"
"What a physique."
"He's even better than Baron Wolfgang!"
Admiration and embarrassed gasps erupted from the crowd.
Sculpted muscles rippled across his torso, veins pulsing visibly down his arms.
"Hoo."
The scars crisscrossing his body flushed crimson.
Agron strode purposefully toward Wolfgang, who stood at the center.
Both men were barefoot and wore only trousers.
Lawrence, who had followed behind, cleared his throat twice, then alternated his gaze between Agron and Wolfgang.
"As Third Prince Lawrence Rubel von Crowngard, rightful heir to the Astraria Royal Family, I will oversee this noble duel from beginning to end. Killing is forbidden; the match will end immediately upon knockout or surrender. Are you ready?"
"Yes, I am ready."
"I am ready as well."
"Then... begin!"
The instant Lawrence slashed his hand downward in a vertical motion, Wolfgang let out a bestial roar and charged at his opponent.
He lunged forward in a low stance, slamming his shoulder into Agron's torso.
Agron leaned forward, shifting his center of gravity to maintain his balance. He immediately locked his hands behind Wolfgang's neck and drove his knee upward.
Bang!
The sharp, explosive sound echoed through the hall.
Wolfgang staggered slightly, momentarily stunned by his opponent's monstrous strength. Regaining his composure, he seized Agron by the torso, lifted him bodily, and slammed him to the ground.
Normally, this attack would knock an opponent unconscious, but Agron was different.
Just before hitting the marble floor, he slapped his hands against it and rolled forward in a somersault.
Wolfgang twisted his torso like a predator missing its prey and kicked toward Agron's position.
Wolfgang threw the first punch.
With a whistling sound, his fist grazed Agron's cheek.
Though killing was forbidden, a blow from that fist would undoubtedly result in death or at least permanent crippling.
Agron merely tilted his head to evade the attack, then drove his fist into Wolfgang's unguarded flank.
Crack!
A deafening roar echoed as one of Wolfgang's knees buckled.
Agonizing pain, enough to make him faint, surged through him.
Never before in his life had he been forced to kneel by a single punch.
The shock and horror on his face were fleeting.
"Kuaaaak!"
Wolfgang roared again, clenching his jaw as he forced himself to his feet.
He couldn't understand how such a formidable warrior had remained hidden for so long.
"Impressively resilient."
"Thank you... for the compliment...!"
"I acknowledge you as a warrior. Shall we get serious now?"
"Huh...?"
Wolfgang thought he must have misheard.
Serious? About what?
In that instant, Agron charged at him with impossible speed, his fist flying.
"Ah—"
Wolfgang stared at the rapidly approaching fist, frozen like a frog before a snake.
That was Wolfgang's last memory of that day.
📝 Translator’s Note:
You may notice that certain lines or phrases in this novel appear both in their original Korean (or Hanja) form and in English translation.
This is intentional — these phrases are classical idioms, divine titles, or poetic expressions that carry layered meanings.
To preserve their original tone and authenticity, the raw text has been kept for reference, while the English interpretation is provided right before or after it. This helps convey both the literal and cultural nuance of the original work.
but if you guys dont want tha raw for future chapters or my future other novels u can just text me on discord and say so discord name Mr.Penny