Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: A Sacred Duel
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"Welcome?"
Lucas shot back.
His hand was already hovering over his shoulder, as if ready to prove his own claymore was just as massive.
"Yes. It's a sad truth."
The man lowered his hand, showing his palm. A clear sign he had no intention of attacking.
His expression softening, he continued.
"Albrecht's future is like a candle in the wind. Where else can we possibly turn for help?"
It was easy to guess what the men who had been secretly tracking them had reported to their superiors.
*These uniforms must have proven we're from the Union.*
Welcoming the Union was proof that Albrecht's situation was dire.
Loan gave a slight bow.
"Loan, Runner of the Faith Division."
"Lucas, Oz of the Faith Division."
A hint of admiration even appeared in the man's softened gaze.
He said.
"I am Thierry, second son of House Albrecht. To be in the Union at such a young age is one thing, but a Runner? I can hardly imagine your accomplishments."
"Thank you."
"May I ask why you've come?"
"I will explain when I meet the head of the house."
He spoke without the slightest intimidation, despite addressing an adult a head taller than himself.
Thierry met Loan's gaze for a moment before giving a silent nod.
"This way."
Loan and Lucas followed Thierry, nodding to the people they passed.
Soon, they entered the Albrecht family mansion, situated at the very edge of the village with a cliff for a backyard.
The place was filled with people, some with greatswords slung over their backs, others resting the tips of their blades on the floor.
Like Thierry, every one of them had their faces half-covered.
Lucas seemed pleased to see so many people wielding weapons similar to his own, but he didn't strike up a conversation with his usual cheerfulness.
Their sharp gazes and tense auras were not entirely welcoming.
Thierry scratched his head and apologized to Loan and Lucas.
"I assume you came knowing of our family's situation. Everyone is on edge. Please understand."
"It's all right. You're worried about your family's future, of course."
With that, they entered the mansion.
The bleak atmosphere was even more pronounced around the head of House Albrecht, Adelaide.
With her snow-white hair, she was the first person in the Albrecht household to show her full, uncovered face.
He had heard she was well past middle age, but in person, she looked no older than Commander Magda.
"I am Adelaide, head of House Albrecht."
She sat on a throne draped in a massive bearskin. Her posture and expression suited the setting perfectly.
She asked, her voice low and resonant.
"Why has the Union come here?"
"Standard procedure. Public welfare, peace, war deterrence. It seemed you were in need, so we came."
"I expected as much when I heard the Union had arrived. But frankly, I cannot hide my mixed feelings of welcome and disappointment."
Her tone carried a heavy dignity.
Perhaps it was the weight of responsibility she shouldered as the matriarch, mingled with her age.
She lowered her gaze for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before gesturing to her son.
"Thierry. Show them the letter."
Thierry handed Loan a letter stamped with a red seal, explaining that someone from House Pobel had delivered it in person two days ago.
The contents were simple.
[Maurice de Pobel, head of House Pobel, hereby challenges Adelaide, head of House Albrecht, to a duel.
Prepare three warriors. The side that achieves two victories shall take what it desires.
House Pobel desires the ancestral secrets of House Albrecht. House Albrecht shall declare its desire on the day of the duel.
Should you refuse this sacred duel of Versa, you must be prepared for the consequences.
The duel will take place in four days' time, at the Albrecht estate.]
Three warriors. The prize: the ancestral secrets of House Albrecht. The penalty for refusal: war. The duel was now in two days.
The pressure must have been immense.
After reading the letter, Loan silently lifted his head to look at the matriarch, Adelaide.
"What are your chances of winning?"
He asked bluntly.
"None."
"Even though I've heard House Albrecht's swordsmanship is in no way inferior to House Pobel's?"
"You sound like you already know something."
"I didn't realize the loss of some of your secret techniques would have such a great impact."
"Mmm..."
Following the matriarch's sound, a groan rippled through the members of House Albrecht.
The information from the Bureau Director had mentioned it—that they had chosen isolation after losing a portion of their secret techniques.
It had been classified as top secret.
Loan continued, unfazed.
"But you didn't refuse the duel, did you."
"Of course not."
"Did you decide it was acceptable to hand over an incomplete legacy?"
"Those secrets are the soul of our house. We are prepared to face ruin for them."
For the matriarch to speak of her own house's ruin... It was not something said lightly.
"Why go to such lengths?"
"What we give up is not important. The lives of the people who trust us are at stake."
To save others.
For Loan, that was answer enough.
"So, in a hopeless situation, the Union arrived to offer help, but you were displeased because it was us."
"..."
Faced with such a direct statement, she couldn't bring herself to agree openly.
Loan continued.
"Let me be clear. We came here for two specific reasons: first, to uncover House Pobel's true intentions, and second, to lead you to victory in this duel."
At his declaration, a mixture of relief and bewilderment crossed Adelaide's face.
"You, who are little more than boys?"
"I am a Runner of the Union. Age is irrelevant. And this is Oz, a warrior so skilled he can find no equal among his peers. Ah, with one exception."
Adelaide glanced at Lucas.
Lucas, oblivious to their conversation, was staring off into the distance, lost in thought.
Likely worried about Sophie. Watching him, Adelaide found her own brow furrowing in a similar frown.
"This is a duel between houses, with their very existence at stake. By Union standards, shouldn't the participants be at least Seeker-grade to be worthy of such a contest?"
"Headquarters sent us here because they judged us capable of handling the task."
"And how can I believe that?"
"We can have a spar with your chosen champions. Whoever wins will fight in the duel."
He asked with utter calmness.
As if his victory were so certain there was no need to display any confidence.
Of course, House Albrecht had no grounds to refuse.
"If you insist, I suppose we can test your skills. However..."
But what was their reason for wanting to become Albrecht's champions?
After a brief pause, Adelaide continued her questioning.
"You have another, true objective, don't you?"
She said, glancing at the ever-anxious Lucas.
Loan didn't bother denying it and simply nodded.
"Before that, I have one thing to confirm. Is this sacred duel of Versa binding? What are the chances Pobel will deny the outcome?"
This question, too, looked beyond the fight to what came after their victory.
At his unwavering confidence, Adelaide smiled, a hint of disbelief in her expression.
Perhaps it was because she was naturally beautiful, but the stern demeanor she'd held until just a moment ago seemed to melt away instantly.
"Spoken like a true member of the Union."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Watching Loan bow respectfully, Adelaide's smile deepened.
In any case, once her heart had opened, her liking for him grew rapidly. For Loan, this was not an unfamiliar experience.
She finally answered his question.
"In the Duchy of Versa, a duel is a covenant with the gods. That is why it is sacred. To break it is to accept a curse of utter ruin upon one's house. And any house that has done so no longer exists in Versa."
Loan was very satisfied with her answer.
"Then I will state our terms. We wish to designate the prize for winning this duel. We will tell you what that is, should we be chosen to fight."
"..."
"In return, House Albrecht will be spared from ruin and war, and you will protect your ancestral secrets."
It was an audacious proposal, so positive it seemed too good to be true.
When Adelaide couldn't answer immediately, Loan offered to ease her hesitation.
"Now, let us show you if we are qualified to make such claims."
Loan finished speaking and nudged Lucas.
Finally snapping out of his reverie, Lucas rolled his neck, making it crack loudly.
* * *
The place where Loan and Lucas would prove their strength was the Albrecht training grounds—the very same arena where the duel would be held.
It was set against a cliff, which meant any misstep could be fatal.
This time, it was Lucas who patted Loan's shoulder.
"Try not to hurt him too much."
Not a word of encouragement, but a plea to go easy on his opponent.
Loan nodded, pulling a clump of atmospheric mana from Aul's mouth.
Perhaps because he had left it there for too long.
The clump of mana had seemingly condensed inside Aul's stomach, becoming not just dense, but heavy.
Loan dissolved the heavy mana into his Convection and took his place at one end of the training grounds.
The sheer cliff was just a step away, but he felt no unease.
"I am Antoine. They call me the First Sword of Albrecht."
He was unafraid, even when facing a man said to be on par with a Seeker.
*The eldest of the three Albrecht sons. He intends to set the tone.*
Antoine was smaller than his brother Thierry, but judging by his dense mana, his reputation was well-deserved.
He returned the greeting calmly.
"Loan, Runner of the Faith Division. Let's begin."
Immediately, a massive, light-infused slash came crashing down on Loan's head.
Loan, having anticipated the move, sidestepped it, only for a flurry of strikes to rain down, too fast to track.
Antoine's voice was carried on the wind stirred by his blade.
"Faith Division. I've crossed swords with your vice-commander twice before."
"You mean Vice-Commander Oscar?"
He asked, spinning away from a thrust along the flat of the blade.
In the background, Lucas's flinch was clearly visible.
"Yes. Back then, we competed to see who was the best greatsword wielder of our generation. A friendly rivalry, that's how it began."
Antoine's expression soured as he swung his sword in a wide arc.
It was a simple move, but more powerful than any of his previous attacks.
Unable to dodge this time, Loan used his Shevilles to slow the greatsword's momentum and closed the distance.
"Did you lose?"
"..."
It was a question asked by someone unconcerned with victory or defeat, but Antoine clearly couldn't take it so lightly.
His mouth was silent behind the mask, but his eyes grew sharper.
*CRASH—!*
He slammed his sword into the ground, shattering the Domain Loan had created, and finally answered.
"I won the first time. I lost the second."
Unfazed, Loan activated his Domain again, expanding it even further.
His voice cut through the swirling dust, striking Antoine like a physical blow.
"You seem to regret that."
"..."
Instead of an answer, another barrage of strikes rained down.
The Shevilles, coated in a thick layer of Convection and glowing with a faint aura, blocked every strike of the greatsword as it cut through the dust.
Despite the incomparable difference in the size and weight of their weapons, Loan didn't yield an inch.
In fact, he even had the leeway to land occasional blows on Antoine's body with his free hands.
*CRACK—* A direct hit to the ribs.
"It seems the part of your legacy you lost was indeed the core of Albrecht swordsmanship."
"Hmph?"
"That horizontal slash from before... if you had followed it with a variation, it would have been difficult to block. A shame. Is the part you lost what comes after that move?"
Startled, Antoine instantly leaped back, putting distance between himself and Loan.
"What are you..."