Impossible
A pure white radiance flickered ceaselessly above the sword Licht had drawn. The blade glowed with relentless intensity, its presence so overwhelming it dimmed even the midday sun. The pristine mana shone with a holiness that dazzled the eyes.
In an instant, murmurs spread through the once-silent crowd like wildfire. It started right after some nameless man shouted.
Aura.
Just that one word. To them, it rang with grave portent—as if the bastard son had pulled out a hidden aura to spite the side branch for insulting his parents.
"Aura? Aura?"
"He must've pulled some trick. That bastard of Barbalte with aura? We never heard a peep about it until recently, and now suddenly he shows it off?"
"Heard he got crushed in a spar with the first young master a few days ago. Must be some lingering effect."
"You think aura's something you whip up overnight? If it's real, that means he's been hiding it for seventeen years. Come on, that doesn't make sense."
"So what we're seeing is fake? It's not even magic."
"Hmm."
"I've never seen white aura before. It's so pretty..."
"Shh, quiet. People are staring."
No one was unaware that Barbalte's bastard second son hadn't yet mastered aura. Those in the know had also heard how he'd been utterly defeated by the first young master just days ago.
That made the shock hit even harder.
Overlaying one's sword with aura was possible only from the Sword User realm onward. Even the first young master, hailed as a genius, hadn't reached Expert yet. In reality, most veteran mercenaries never even crossed the Sword User wall.
Aura? From that guy?
Once the spark ignited, whispers swelled into a clamor. Before long, the main street was walled off by the surging crowd. Merchants hauling goods dismounted in the face of this sudden uproar.
The situation had spiraled out of control. A sidelong glance showed Colin wide-eyed in panic. He never could've dreamed of this. He'd witnessed the second young master getting pummeled by the first just days ago. It had been a one-sided beating.
Yet...
Expert? No way...!
Licht remained silent. He held his sword at a slant and fixed Cliff with a steady glare. Beyond the shimmering white light—uncertain if it was aura—the scenery warped.
Cliff knew exactly what it was. When aura's purity exceeded a certain threshold, reality itself twisted. Even among Expert knights, few possessed such density. He'd seen it with his own eyes, so he was certain.
Snapping back to his senses, he realized his hands trembled faintly.
Damn mongrel bastard...!
Rage boiled up from within like a sudden blaze. The family disgrace. A wretch who'd always been beneath him for seventeen years. This wasn't mere physical reinforcement. Releasing aura was an intensely draining technique—one no one could maintain indefinitely. The strain must be gnawing at the bastard's mind even now.
He's using some trick. That's why he hasn't attacked first. Pathetic fool—did he think it'd scare me?
The fluster passed quickly. Cliff cooled his head. Composure was the foundation of battle. A duel was no different.
Licht spoke first.
"Planning to run?"
"Run?"
"Every word you spat. A noble wouldn't stoop to that."
"...Strutting over some lowly trick."
"Looks like your eyes went blind too."
"Insolent...!"
Swordsmanship with aura was fundamentally different. Training without it built foundations. Cliff had awakened his aura at thirteen and swung his blade for over four years since.
Even if it's real aura, it doesn't matter.
The depth of experience differed. One clash would end it.
I don't know what trick he used, but it can't have been long. I can tell. Thinks just coating it is enough? Pathetic fool.
Cliff was inwardly convinced. He raised his sword, and Licht's gaze followed the tip.
I'll strike first.
Stance set. He stepped forward with his right foot.
"Sientia, Sientia... Just saying it dirties my mouth."
"......"
"What do you have left without the family name? Fool. Don't delude yourself. You're not abandoning the family—the family abandoned you."
"Long tongue."
"...I'll show you."
He lowered slowly into position.
"The wall of true talent you can't overcome with effort."
Paak!
No sooner had the words left than he kicked off the ground. Aura propelled from his toes gave tremendous thrust. The initial distance was about ten meters—a gap aura users could close in an instant.
Charging, Cliff pulled his sword back. Whoosh! Blue aura flared like flames over his shoulder. Body reinforcement and release through aura. No wasted motion. The entire sequence flowed seamlessly.
Sword User.
He had the skill to shout it aloud. And the talent backing it. That was why even a side branch like him was acknowledged in the Barbalte house.
But that's all it is.
Shining talent. To Licht, utterly mediocre aptitude.
Licht took a step forward. The foe was upon him, swinging. A sneer curled his lips. The accelerated blade lunged for his arm.
He parried upward.
Kaaang!
"......!"
Blue aura clashed with pristine white mana. The sharp metallic ring pierced his daze. Silent shock spread across Cliff's face. Immense recoil. In that instant, he lost balance.
Licht slipped into the opening at an angle. Cliff gritted his teeth, righting himself. Two flashes erupted in that gap.
Kagagang!
"Th...!"
"I see your level."
Offense and defense flipped. Licht invaded his blind spot. The sword traced an eerie arc, stabbing at the flaw. Blinding speed blurred the blade. Realizing he couldn't dodge them all, Cliff began batting them away one by one.
But it wasn't enough. Lack of real combat experience. His swings were honest—predictable. After deflecting one, a strike he couldn't evade slashed his body. Blood streamed down before he knew it.
Astonished gasps escaped him.
"Impossible...!"
"He wins? That bastard second son?"
"That side branch is a Sword User, right?"
"Lies! Does that mean he's an Expert?"
"Brother!!"
His younger brother's cry twisted Cliff's face into a savage snarl.
"You mongrel bastard!"
Deflecting, Cliff suddenly ducked low. Licht's sword arced over him in a semicircle. Faint mana afterimages drifted down like oxidizing mist beneath the trajectory.
The big motion created an opening. Cliff's eyes gleamed as he lunged into it. His blade rose from below in an upward slash.
But it cleaved empty air. Licht had already retreated a step—he'd anticipated it all. Cliff's bulging eyes turned hollow with futility.
Licht poured mana into his sword.
Wooong!
His single spinning circle blazed wildly. The blade glowed brighter, and he swung the erupting mana.
Kaaang!
The fiercely repelled sword whipped back. His upper body lay completely exposed.
Licht reversed his grip on the hilt. A real sword, though for training—its edge was sharp. He smashed the blunt tip into the solar plexus. The clear sensation of cracking bone followed.
Ppeok!
"Guhk!"
Air whooshed from his lungs as Cliff's body flew through the air. Onlookers scattered from the landing spot.
Colin was half-mad already.
"Brother! Brother!!"
"Urk! Uweeeek!"
Licht approached slowly. Colin, crouched checking his brother under the looming shadow, paled blue.
"No need for a second."
Licht scanned the surroundings and declared loudly.
"Everyone here is witness. I, Licht Sientia, have won my duel with Cliff Barbalte. If anyone objects, step up and challenge me. I'll accept them all."
Dead silence. No one raised a voice.
Licht shook the blood-soaked blade. Cliff's blood trickled down the edge. Not fatal. Aside from a few cracked ribs, minor wounds that'd heal in a week.
Make it certain.
Cliff, prone with just his head raised, went ashen.
"Y-You...!"
"Rest easy. I won't kill you."
"After this... Ngh! You think you'll get away...?"
"Still got a mouth on you."
"The family head will...!"
"I'll sever your tendons. So you never hold a sword again."
"W-Wait...!"
Chwahak!
Licht's sword traced an eerie path. Cliff screamed. Blood welled from his slashed wrists and ankles.
***
Unlike the modest annex, the main house dining hall was vast. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. More than just the five diners filled the space—standing escort knights and attending servants.
The interior was lavishly ornate yet refined, far from vulgar. Restrained splendor drew the eye from every angle. But no knight or servant glanced away. They were Barbalte retainers.
Family-appointed vassals commanded respect in the world. They had the skill to back it. The servants were no different—each elite in their role.
Such men served five nobles: the head of House Barbalte and his two direct heirs, the family's lady Amella, and Aila, the second daughter of the Pavria house like Amella.
"Aila, does it suit your taste?"
Amella asked elegantly as she sliced her meat. Grace infused every gesture.
"Yes, Aunt. The spread is exquisite. Even back home, this is rare."
"We pulled out all the stops for our dear niece. Isn't that right, Evan? You barely slept the night before."
Evan, the first young master and heir to House Barbalte, let out a hearty laugh.
"Haha, Mother, come on. I'm twenty already—not a kid tossing and turning. Chris seemed more excited than me..."
"Eut...!"
Chris, the third young master, flushed at Evan's teasing. He kept stealing glances at Aila even with his head bowed—obvious to anyone.
She asked with concern.
"You okay?"
"Ah, uh, well..."
Chris stammered. Snow-white hair like fresh powder. Chandelier light shattered atop it, weaving a mystical aura. Between the luminous strands, sky-blue eyes gleamed like captured seas, drawing one in.
Snow White Aila Pavria—that's what they called her. She stirred buzz at every gathering. Admirers from noble houses abounded. Her sculptured beauty only amplified it.
Chris felt his face burn hotter. She was his brother's fiancée. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help it.
"Chris. You alright? Your face looks ready to burst."
"......"
Chris stayed silent. Amella intervened.
"Aila, do you have plans later? Perhaps..."
"I'm fine. Chris, want to take a walk with me later?"
Chris's head snapped up.
"R-Really?"
"If you're okay with it, anytime."
"There's a nice path in the inner garden...!"
Chris beamed. Aila listened attentively to his excited chatter. Warm harmony filled the air.
House head Abel was famously taciturn. He gave curt replies to Amella's occasional probes, but no tension arose.
Buoyed Chris murmured.
"Wish Licht brother was here too."
The cozy mood chilled abruptly.
A reflexive slip. Chris clapped his mouth too late.
"...Chris."
"M-Mother..."
"And I warned you so many times...!"
Chris shut his eyes. Evan cut in.
"Mother, that's enough."
He eyed Chris.
"Chris, Licht's resting in the annex. You know that."
"...Sorry, brother."
"Good. Just be careful next time."
Evan resumed eating, openly signaling no more talk.
Even a bastard like Licht—sharing no mother with Evan and Chris—drew such reaction. Aila, who'd smiled consistently, lit up.
"Licht?"
"...Aila, not worth your concern. Ignore it."
"Is he hurt? Resting?"
"Sparred with me recently. Injuries from that."
Evan set down his utensils, done toying.
"I went easy... Didn't expect him to be that pathetic. Family disgrace. Can't keep him forever."
Evan turned to the head seat, where Abel sat.
"Father."
"......"
"Isn't it time? For Licht. Send him to the Galatea frontlines."
"Already decided."
"Reconsider. Better for the house and him to serve the nation than rot here. Honorable. Boosts his and our prestige—a direct Barbalte scion enlisting at seventeen."
"Enough. Guests present. Restrain yourself."
"But...!"
As Evan pressed, a shout echoed from the distant hall.
"House head! House head!"
The cry pierced the dining hall. The door flew open, revealing a knight. Sweat beaded his brow—he'd sprinted here.
"Insolent cur! Mind your manners before the house head."
"State your house! No cause, and off with your head."
Escort knights hands went to pommels, ready to draw.
He faltered but bellowed urgently.
"House head, disaster! Chaos outside right now...!"
"Disaster? Enough to barge in unannounced?"
"Enough."
Abel silenced Amella's irritation. He eyed the panting knight.
"Speak. What happened?"
"Well..."
Evan prodded.
"Speak clearly. Or it's taken as insulting Father—harsh punishment."
"Cliff young master fell in a street duel."
"Cliff?"
Evan's eyes widened at the unforeseen news. Aila, Chris, Amella too. All eyes locked on the knight.
"Explain. Cliff lost a duel?"
"Yes. Just confirmed on my way here."
"Who the hell..."
Muttering, Evan glanced at Abel—who'd stared at the knight since he entered.
"Who?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Who was the opponent."
He hesitated, then squeezed his eyes shut.
"Licht..."
"What?"
"Second young master Licht Barbalte defeated Cliff Barbalte and is heading to the main house now...!"