Chapter 11: Change (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 11: Change (4)
The knights’ training ground.
The knights, in the midst of a heated training session, immediately halted to pay their respects as the Lord and his entourage arrived, led by Jonathan.
Clank!
"Greetings, My Lord!"
"Greetings, My Lord!"
To the Cairo Kingdom as a whole, the Dmitry family was nothing more than a small estate on the fringes. Within their own territory, however, their prestige was absolute. The Dmitry Knights, in particular, received the best treatment in the surrounding region. Their deep respect for Baron Romero was obvious just from the perfect, orderly unison of their ranks.
Knight Commander Jonathan stepped forward.
"From this moment on, we will conduct a sparring match for Young Master Roman. Anyone who wishes to volunteer, step forward."
"..."
Silence. There were no volunteers.
The sudden request left the knights exchanging troubled glances. It was only natural. Their opponent was Roman Dmitry. Winning would bring no glory, and losing could mean expulsion from the order. Regardless of their respect for Baron Romero, none of them had any desire to be a prop in his son's little talent show.
"If there are no volunteers, I will choose the opponent myself."
Jonathan’s gaze swept over the men. Excluding the Commander, the Dmitry Knights consisted of fifteen members. In truth, despite being called an order of knights, only two people—including Jonathan—actually held the official title. The other fourteen were commoners on paper. Though they aspired to true knighthood, their skills still lacked in many areas.
That was the problem.
If this were the Roman of the past, it wouldn't matter who stepped up. But this changed Roman was an unknown variable.
'I cannot allow the Dmitry Knights to be humiliated by the young master. His opponent must be skilled enough to completely suppress him. Only then can we preserve our prestige while verifying this supposed strength that defeated Blood Fang.'
Honestly, Jonathan wanted to step up himself. However, as the Knight Commander, he couldn't draw his sword so lightly. He had no choice but to swallow his regret.
He made his decision. In truth, from the moment he accepted Baron Romero's proposal, Roman's opponent had already been decided.
"Chris, step forward."
"...Excuse me?"
A handsome blond man grimaced at the summons. Chris doubted his own ears. To call upon him, the Vice-Captain of the Dmitry Knights, rather than one of the ordinary members?
"I do not believe this is a matter that requires my involvement, Commander."
Insubordination was a grave offense. Normally, he would have obeyed unconditionally, but he simply could not accept this order. The reason was simple: his opponent was Roman. Even Chris, who sincerely loved the people of Dmitry, shuddered with disgust at the mere thought of the Fool of Dmitry.
'If only he weren't the Lord's son.'
Two years ago, Chris had a run-in with him. A violent disturbance had broken out in the entertainment district, and the instigator was none other than Roman Dmitry. He was throwing a drunken tantrum, and his status as the eldest son prevented anyone from intervening. While onlookers stamped their feet in anxiety, Chris arrived on patrol with the guards. Feeling a duty to keep the peace in the territory, he politely tried to de-escalate the situation.
Instead, a burning impact exploded across his cheek.
Slap!
He had been struck. Watching Roman scream at the top of his lungs, demanding to know how a lowly guard dared touch his body, Chris felt a genuine urge to kill.
But he endured it. This was Roman Dmitry. He might be a bastard, but he still bore the Lord's name.
Chris had exercised the utmost patience to let the incident pass, but from that day on, just looking at Roman made his skin crawl. Knight Commander Jonathan was well aware of this history. Naturally, Chris assumed he would be excluded from the list of sparring partners. Since Jonathan insisted, he couldn't help but protest.
Jonathan held his ground. "Young Master Roman is skilled enough to have subjugated Blood Fang all by himself. For a fair match, we need someone of equal caliber. The only one here who can properly represent the Dmitry Knights is you, Chris."
"This Blood Fang incident is—"
"Chris." Jonathan's expression hardened. He would not tolerate any further insubordination.
Chris bowed his head. 'Damn it.'
"Understood."
Roman's recent actions had become famous among the knights. A fierce debate raged over whether he truly possessed the martial prowess to wipe out Blood Fang. Chris had flatly denied the possibility. He knew from personal experience, after all. The slap he took two years ago carried the meager physical strength of an ordinary person who had never trained with a sword in his life.
Victory or defeat? He wasn't worried about losing. But if he had to spar, he was going to do it properly.
"I have a condition."
"Speak."
"I was taught to treat every spar as real combat. No matter who my opponent is, I have absolutely no intention of holding back when our swords clash. If you permit this, I will accept the honor of facing Young Master Roman Dmitry."
Chris glanced toward Baron Romero. When the Baron nodded, Jonathan turned to check Roman's reaction.
However—
Smirk.
'He's laughing?'
Roman smirked. It was a silent agreement, and it thoroughly rubbed Chris the wrong way.
Chris had some common sense. He knew Roman was the heir of Dmitry, and he had no intention of utterly humiliating him in front of the Lord he served. But with that single smirk, his rationality evaporated.
'This bastard.'
Contrary to his handsome, refined appearance, Chris was known as the "Fighting Dog" of Dmitry. Once engaged, he was a man who fought to the bitter end. Knowing this, the onlookers began to worry for Roman's safety.
On the sparring stage, the two men faced each other with wooden swords.
Tap.
"Begin!"
The moment Jonathan gave the signal, Chris, who had been twitching his back foot in anticipation, lunged forward.
Dash!
'I'll show you the difference in our levels.'
His speed was incredible. Chris closed the distance in an instant. In the blink of an eye, he swung his sword toward Roman's forearm. It was a rational strike that avoided vital points—believing Roman wouldn't be able to block such a sudden and swift attack, Chris targeted an area where an injury wouldn't cause serious harm.
However—
Clack!
'...Clack?!'
A heavy recoil vibrated through Chris's hand. Their gazes locked in midair. Seeing Roman's eyes remain completely unshaken despite the surprise attack, a sudden chill ran down Chris's spine.
Whoosh! Swish!
Chris rapidly recovered, following up with a fierce horizontal slash. Roman calmly blocked it again. The previous defense had been no fluke. Not only was the recoil transmitted through Chris's hand incredibly solid, but Roman's defensive stance was remarkably stable.
'Look at this.'
This was completely unexpected. He never imagined Roman would possess such solid fundamentals. The thought crossed his mind that Roman might truly be the one who wiped out Blood Fang. If that were true, Roman was a powerhouse comparable to Jonathan. But right now, with their swords clashing, that didn't matter.
The duel had begun, and Chris wouldn't be satisfied until he brought Roman down.
Step, step.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Taking aggressive steps, Chris unleashed a continuous barrage of downward strikes. The onlookers gasped in admiration at the swift, powerful combination. Roman retreated, hurriedly blocking the onslaught. It was a solid defense, but the moment Roman took his fifth step backward, Chris's eyes gleamed.
'Now!'
Whoosh!
A single, decisive strike. He targeted the exposed gap. He was certain the blow would land, but by a hair's breadth, the wooden sword merely grazed Roman's head.
Flutter.
Dark strands of hair fluttered in the wind. Beneath them, Roman's cold gaze locked onto him.
Chris didn't know why he did it. Even though his eyes couldn't properly track Roman's movement, his instincts screamed at him to swing his sword and block his front.
Thwack!
'How?!'
Right in front of him, Roman's sword was already swinging toward his head. It was a devastating strike that would have ended the match instantly had he failed to block it. Roman wasn't just skilled in defense; his offensive fundamentals were superb. The moment his attack was blocked, Roman vanished from Chris's field of vision.
A side step.
Slipping out of sight as smoothly as flowing water, Roman swung his wooden sword from the bottom up. Chris gasped at the unorthodox angle.
"Hup!"
Whoosh!
He was flustered. This was Roman's strength? Even facing him directly, he couldn't believe it.
'This is absolute bullshit.'
Chris gritted his teeth. He refused to lose. Losing in front of everyone—and to the Fool of Dmitry, no less—was absolutely unacceptable. He would bide his time. Just as Roman had counterattacked, Chris would wait for a gap in his opponent's defense.
Then, it happened.
Whoosh!
A wide-open chest. Roman's movement was too large. Chris stepped forward, certain this was his chance—
Grin.
'...!?'
Roman smiled. Chris knew instinctively.
It was a trap. A fatal crisis.
Seeing Roman effortlessly dodge his attack and immediately counter, Chris panicked. Instinctively, he unleashed the power he had been holding back.
Boom! Rumble!
An explosion erupted from within him. It was the manifestation of Aura. The standard that distinguished a true knight from a commoner was a 1-Star Aura—the power that turned humans into superhumans.
Seeing Chris manifest his Aura, Jonathan's eyes widened in horror.
"No!"
It was too dangerous. A clash between Aura and a wooden sword had an obvious outcome. Not only would the wooden sword shatter, but there was no telling what would happen to Roman from the aftershocks. The fact that they were using practice weapons didn't matter. The power of Aura could slice a person apart even through a blunt piece of wood.
Jonathan’s heart sank. This was a mistake. If he had known Roman was skilled enough to corner Chris, he would have cast aside his pride and stepped up himself.
But at that exact moment—
Step.
Roman lunged forward. Even with a life-threatening blow right before his eyes, he did not hesitate to advance.
Just one step. That single step worked a miracle.
The Aura slightly cut Roman's cheek, spraying a single drop of blood, as he slipped past the strike and came face-to-face with Chris. The Vice-Captain's expression was painted with panic and shock.
The match was over. Chris was completely defenseless. Even if Roman had stayed his blade, Chris would have been forced to accept defeat. But Roman had no intention of letting this slide.
'Those who show hostility must be dealt with thoroughly.'
It was the absolute law of the Heavenly Demon. Even if he didn't kill him, Chris had to pay the price for forcing Roman to risk his life to seize victory.
Whoosh!
Crack!
"Gah?!"
The wooden sword slammed directly into Chris's face. Taking the brutal blow head-on, Chris was literally lifted off his feet. Several teeth scattered in all directions, accompanied by a thick spray of blood.
People always said that Chris—the disciple of the 3-Star Knight Jonathan and a prodigy who had manifested a 2-Star Aura at a young age—was the greatest genius of Dmitry. He was praised as a talent who would eventually transcend their small estate to make a name for himself throughout the Cairo Kingdom. Within Dmitry, he had no rival other than Jonathan.
Such a man...
...was thrown straight backward through the air. His dilated pupils proved he had lost consciousness before he even hit the ground.
Thud!
Chris collapsed into the dirt, completely knocked out.
And behind him...
"...What in the world..."
...stood Jonathan, his face pale with sheer disbelief.