065. Iron Bear, Silva Bascon 1
Inside Plentel Castle's arena. On the marble platform, Bin and Silva glared at each other. Their opposing gazes burned hot. With the surrounding spectators' eyes locked on Bin and Silva, those gazes shifted to Silva's shoulder.
“Silver epaulet signifying a Super Nova.”
As he said. Silva had intentionally donned the silver epaulet for his duel with Bin. To highlight the gulf in their statuses.
Silva, his preparations complete, hurled his uniform jacket out of the arena.
“Let's get this started.”
Silva, down to a simple shirt, fixed Bin with a glare. Bin, still in his outer coat, gripped the greatsword slung across his back as he stared back at Silva. Both were fully battle-ready.
Moden frowned at the sight.
Outer coat?
It was only natural for Moden to question it. Silva's specialty was grappling. Keeping the coat on only increased the surface area available for grabs.
Why? Such a foolish blunder……
As Moden stroked his chin, observing them closely, footsteps echoed closer.
Thud.
Thud.
The knight who appeared strode between Bin and Silva. He was there to officiate the duel.
The knight positioned between them scanned both fighters, then bellowed.
“Before the duel commences, salutes from both combatants!”
…….
The knight had clearly given the order. Yet Bin and Silva didn't so much as twitch. Neither had any intention of bowing first. From the outset, their momentum screamed refusal to yield.
The officiating knight glanced left and right, utterly at a loss.
“Salutes……”
Trouble creased the knight's brow.
Billy and Shirley, watching from the stands, shot each other panicked looks.
“Iron Bear, in front of Brother Silva……”
“That Bin punk. Where the hell does he get off……”
They couldn't help their shock. Silva's massive, bear-like frame intimidated even them. Striking up a conversation with him felt impossible. And he'd racked up ten straight wins against Willie, no less.
Yet here was Bin needling that very Silva. The youngest of the seven siblings, and he wasn't backing down an inch.
Billy and Shirley wore looks of utter disbelief.
Willie, the 'X' scar etched across his forehead, merely curled his lip in a smirk.
Bin Bascon. True to expectations. Landing a blow before the fight even starts. But against Silva? No chance.
Willie had clashed with both. That gave him certainty. Bin was skilled well beyond his years. But it felt different from Silva's power.
Willie's gaze drifted to the hulking figure before him.
Among the siblings, he's the spitting image of Father.
A colossal frame infused with the Bascon pureblood's agility. An insurmountable wall. Ten losses had drilled that truth home.
Moden, meanwhile, sat enthroned in his massive chair and let out a low chuckle at their standoff.
Things are getting interesting. As expected, no disappointments here.
The spectator stands buzzed with feverish heat as they watched Bin and Silva.
“These two young masters are already locked in a brutal mind game.”
“Can't wait to see who breaks first and bows.”
“Young Master Bin's got guts. Facing down Second Young Master Silva—the second of seven siblings—without flinching. Blood ties mean nothing in the arena, huh?”
Their admiration was short-lived. On the marble platform, Silva ground his teeth.
Know your damn place……
Irritation boiled into outright rage. Bin was far his junior. For the kid to hold out without bowing? Unbearable.
Unable to stomach it, Silva advanced on Bin.
Thud. Thud.
The officiating knight panicked.
“Uh, Young Master Silva……”
But Silva ignored him, pressing forward. Soon he loomed right in Bin's face. His sheer mass should have radiated menace.
Bin didn't blink.
Silva's bulging eyes wavered at the sight.
“Bow.”
His downward glare brimmed with displeasure.
Bin stayed brazen.
“You first.”
“You little shit……”
In that instant, Silva's massive hand shot toward Bin's shoulder—to force the bow.
But.
Tap.
Bin swatted the hand away with ease.
Silva's brows shot up in fury.
“If you haven't lived enough years, act like the half-baked brat you are……”
“Hey, big lug. You're under a stupid delusion. Up here? Brothers, siblings—shove that crap where the sun don't shine.”
“……”
Speechless, Silva glared daggers. Bin met his eyes without a shred of doubt. Those eyes betrayed zero fear of defeat.
As the two traded barbs, the bundle of clothes abandoned in the stands began to shift.
Crunch.
Out popped a skull—Codic. His expression soured. Clearly displeased with Silva.
He soon clacked his teeth and muttered.
“Click! Click! That big-headed beast should bow its own damn head. Daring to touch my lord……”
Codic's voice slipped out louder than intended. One spectator whipped their head around.
Codic flattened instantly and rolled back into the clothes.
Roll roll.
“Hm…… Weird. Must've misheard.”
“……”
Feigning death inside the clothes, Codic kept watch on Bin and Silva.
With salutes apparently irrelevant to the pair, the knight gauged the mood. His eyes met Moden's. Moden nodded. Taking the cue, the knight wedged between them.
Then he bellowed.
“Salutes omitted! The duel between these two begins now!”
Cheers exploded around them as he finished.
“Wooooaaah!”
The crowd started placing bets.
“Superior weapon and 3rd Class knight Young Master Silva? Or top-grade weapon and 4th Class knight Young Master Bin? This'll be good.”
Unlike the hyped spectators, Bin and Silva's faces were stone-cold serious. In the electric tension, Silva struck first.
Dash dash.
His bulging eyes roared.
“Think you can lecture the future heir?!”
Fast for his size. Silva whipped his armored right fist at Bin.
Swoosh.
The punch sliced the air. Bin snapped up his greatsword to meet the incoming blow.
Clang!
Even so, Bin slid back a step. Ziiing. The shock rippling through his blade told him: serious power, backed by body weight. A vital hit could end it in a heartbeat.
Top strength among the seven siblings, as expected?
As Bin marveled at the force, Silva's follow-up came.
“Way too early to be impressed.”
A fist rocketed toward Bin's left jaw—aiming for the kill spot.
Bin fixated on the punch, sidestepping right. That instant.
A grin spread across Silva's face.
Gotcha.
Layered shadows bloomed from Silva's frame.
Swoosh. He zipped toward Bin, yanking the fluttering coat.
Silva's hands clamped Bin's waist.
The stands gasped.
“He's got him……”
“Over already.”
They were sure. They knew Silva's grappling specialty. A move that floored even 3rd Class monsters in one go. Escaping that grip strength? Impossible.
Silva tsked with a smirk.
“Idiot. Wearing a coat against me.”
But as the words left his mouth, Bin's lip curled slyly. The odd smile threw Silva off.
What the…… that grin……?
Before Silva could process, numbness crept into his fingertips.
How……!
Then.
Slash.
Bin's greatsword grazed Silva's shoulder. Blood erupted in a geyser.
Splurt!
Silva yanked back fast—nonfatal. The crowd reeled in confusion. Why? Perfect opening. Yet no grapple from Silva's signature arsenal.
“Wha—what just happened? Young Master Silva pulled back……”
“Why pass up the chance……”
“Showing mercy?”
As questions swirled, Silva clutched his blood-soaked shoulder and demanded of Bin.
“What trick was that?”
Bin plucked a feather from his uniform.
“You ain't too dense to recognize it.”
A black feather. Chicken-like.
Silva got it then.
Cockatrice feather?!
Exactly. Bin had foreseen the grab. He'd tailored his usual uniform with cockatrice plumes. The beast petrified on contact—its feathers carried the power.
Silva's armor blunted the full effect. But it deadened hand sensation in a flash.
The stands nodded in realization. And why Bin kept the coat.
“So he predicted this……”
“Yeah. Ending now would've been lame.”
Smiles rippled through the crowd. The duel veering off-script.
Moden smirked too.
Smart play.
Sensation trickling back, Silva grinned.
“Right—ending here'd suck. Let's do this for real. As Bascon purebloods.”
As he spoke, his hands gleamed silver.
Flames erupted from them.
Whoosh.
Bin grinned back.
“Then let's have some fun.”
His greatsword flashed silver too. Black aura began seeping from the blade.
Billy and Shirley's eyes bulged.
“B-Bin's Opening?!”
“N-No way……”
Leaps ahead of peers like them. A realm impossible to chase.
As they shuddered, the crowd's eyes lit up at Bin and Silva.
“Bascon Opening……?!”
Rare sight: two pureblood Bascons clashing activations. Eyes glued to the weapons.
Silva's flaming armored gauntlets. Bin's Luminare, black aura surging.
And then they collided.
CLAAANG!