Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: The Duel Begins
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"That's..."
Lucas trailed off, craning his neck.
Loan reflexively stopped Lucas from stepping forward.
Suddenly, a warm breeze swirled up in the space around Loan and Lucas.
It was the result of consuming a significant amount of mana to envelop Lucas in Convection, so it was only natural that all eyes turned to them.
"Hmm..."
Marquis Maurice let out an inscrutable hum as he looked at Loan.
He wasn't wearing a Union uniform. It was to make him look like a member of House Albrecht.
He likely hadn't recognized his face, not unless he had the ability to see through the warrior's mask.
After staring at Loan for a while, Marquis Maurice resumed walking toward the mansion.
Loan and Lucas's attention, however, had long since shifted away from him.
Lucas whispered in an incredibly low voice.
"That bastard..."
He had tried his best to muffle his voice, but it surely would have been audible if Loan hadn't cast a thin barrier of Convection.
Even if Sophie had heard him, it was uncertain whether she would have reacted.
She was not the Sophie that Loan and Lucas knew.
Her gaze was utterly vacant.
Her eyes were fixed on the back of the family head's head, but it was questionable if she was truly seeing anything at all.
Loan immediately recalled a time when he had seen that same look.
It was when he had raided the Le Tell brainwashing facility in Barcino with the Stability Division. The children who had been killing each other. Their gaze was now reflected in Sophie's eyes.
*She's been consumed by darkness.*
He had assumed as much when she failed to recognize him and Lucas, even when she was right beside them.
But then.
As she passed by, Sophie's left eye suddenly snapped to look directly at Loan.
His heart sank.
But Sophie showed no sign of agitation, her focus remaining fixed on Loan with that one eye as she walked past.
"She definitely... saw you, right? Yeah."
Lucas asked, tugging on Loan's collar.
Only after everyone who had been on the palanquins had entered the mansion did Loan reply.
"Let's not provoke Sophie until the time is right. We don't need to deliberately reveal our identities either."
She was different from the children in Barcino. They had to be careful until they knew her exact condition.
He had warned him about this beforehand, but it was worth emphasizing again.
"Uh... Seeing her in person, I just... lost it for a second."
His apologetic face was filled with a mix of anger, impatience, and anxiety.
Lucas had also seen the children in Barcino. He knew that Sophie's behavior was similar, yet different.
Loan tapped Lucas on the shoulder and said.
"Let's focus on winning first. We still don't know where the other seniors are."
"R-Right."
After the two of them were the last to step into the mansion, the large doors finally closed.
Outside, the retainers of House Albrecht and the palanquin bearers of House Pobel stood in long lines, glaring at each other. The situation inside the mansion was not much different.
...
Adelaïde, the head of House Albrecht, sat on a chair draped in bearskin, looking down at Maurice, the head of House Pobel.
Their gazes clashed for a long time, but Adelaïde did not show the lord the courtesy he was due.
After all, they were both landed nobles who had established their own houses with their own territories, and their current relationship was merely the result of war and reconciliation.
Though House Albrecht was a vassal to House Pobel, the only obligation enforced was that of tribute. Thus, their flimsy relationship had already shattered the moment the letter was sent.
"I should have looked after my domain more thoroughly, but your lands are in such a rugged place, I couldn't visit. Still, isn't it nice to see you face-to-face like this, Countess Adelaïde?"
"It would have been better if we never saw each other again. It's my own fault for living too long. Seeing your face in my twilight years has soured my mood. Enough with the pleasantries. Let's get this over with."
In Versa, a duel between houses was tantamount to war. There was no need to rein in one's heated emotions, but even so, her words were exceedingly harsh.
A wide grin split Marquis Maurice's face. As he laughed, it sounded as if two distinct voices were layered over each other.
The strange resonance of his laugh was unsettling, but what made Loan frown even more was the Marquis's mana itself.
A turbidity so profound it seemed consumed by darkness, making one suspect he might be a demon, flickered—fading in and out with his laughter.
It was as if two personalities, each composed of a different mana, were overlapping and then separating.
But Loan was the only one who took this strangeness seriously.
After his laugh, Marquis Maurice got to the point.
"I'm so glad you accepted the duel. I, too, dislike unnecessary bloodshed. So, what is it you desire as your reward for victory?"
Adelaïde answered without hesitation.
"If House Albrecht is victorious in this duel, House Pobel will be placed under our complete subjugation. As proof of this, you will give me House Pobel's illegitimate daughter to adopt."
The Maurice with the faded mana widened his eyes in an exaggerated expression.
He then turned to look at his retinue, and at their head's comical display, his sons burst out laughing.
The designated daughter, Sophie, merely continued to stare ahead with her vacant eyes.
"Your answer?"
Adelaïde asked again, her voice flat.
"Ha, haha... Yes. Yes. Subjugation, you say..."
An order to completely obey, serve, and follow.
It was an absurdly large reward for a duel, given all it entailed, but it was also a common demand to make of the loser of a war.
However, House Pobel could not simply back out of the duel now.
For the party that proposed the duel to retract it would be the same as admitting defeat, which would mean they would have to grant House Albrecht's demands.
It was because of these complex, intertwined traditions of Versa that duels between houses did not happen lightly.
And to officiate and bear witness to this, a notary from the Ducal House of Versa had come down and was observing the situation.
Maurice's mouth slowly opened.
"Very well. As if that's such a difficult thing. You have spirit, as expected of a mountain warrior-woman. I like it."
The Maurice stained with turbidity readily accepted the proposal, his face twisted into a strange expression.
He must have come this far because he was confident enough.
*Or he's in a state where he's incapable of making such judgments in the first place.*
That was Loan's guess.
The turbid mana would consume Maurice, then fade like an afterimage, over and over again.
***
The dueling grounds, set up in the mansion's rear garden.
Loan was now familiar with this place.
He had spent one day here showcasing his abilities on his first day at House Albrecht, and another restoring their family's secret techniques and teaching them to the eldest and second sons.
His gaze fell upon the matriarch Adelaïde and Antoine, who stood beside her with a determined posture.
Sensing Loan's gaze, Antoine slowly closed and opened his eyes, giving a small nod.
*He must be disappointed.*
Two of the spots were taken by Loan and Lucas. Although he had lost to Loan, the remaining spot should have rightfully gone to Antoine, the First Sword of Albrecht.
But in the interim, Loan had seen the family's secret techniques, taught the lost parts to the Albrecht brothers, and in a so-called repechage, Antoine had yielded the vanguard position to his younger brother.
For the sake of the family, it was right for the stronger person to step forward.
And so, the title of Albrecht's First Sword had changed hands.
*He'll be much stronger than the previous First Sword.*
The Albrecht's secret techniques had given Loan a great deal of inspiration as well.
It was filled with profound oral traditions, and he could vaguely understand why House Pobel coveted them.
*When swordsmanship reaches such depths, it seems there's little difference from magic.*
Ultimately, it's a matter of how one handles mana, both internally and externally. Whether it's the body or the mind, only the ratio of their use differs; the sum total is the same.
Just then, a man who would prove this very point strode onto the dueling stage.
The notary from the Ducal House of Versa announced loudly.
"I will now call the combatants for this duel between houses, in the order they were submitted. From House Albrecht, Melville Albrecht."
Unexpectedly, the name called was the third son of House Albrecht.
Was it perhaps too heavy?
Holding a greatsword nearly as tall as himself loosely at his side in a natural stance, he turned to look back at the members of House Albrecht.
*Scraaaape—*
The sound of the greatsword scraping against the ground added a strange sense of solemnity.
Melville exchanged nods with his mother and matriarch, Adelaïde; his older brother Antoine, who had yielded the title of First Sword; and Thierry, who had become the Third Sword.
Then, gripping the hilt of his greatsword with both hands, he bowed his head toward Loan.
Loan showed no particular reaction to the gesture, which was like a student bowing to his master.
After the opponent from House Pobel appeared on the stage, Loan's entire focus was fixed on one person.
"The combatant from House Pobel. Sophie Pobel."
The shield she had received from the Union was nowhere to be seen; the opponent standing on the stage with only a longsword was Sophie.
The same vacant expression, the same empty eyes.
This time, her eyes didn't even turn toward Loan.
In her stead, the eldest son of House Pobel, Pierre, spoke up.
"Some lowly blood unbecoming of a house duel has been mixed in, but I ask for your understanding. Oh, that's right, you said you'd adopt her, didn't you?"
A profound silence fell over the Albrecht side.
Loan felt his face flush but gently wrapped Lucas in Convection to soothe him.
He didn't need to look to know what kind of expression he was making.
As if enjoying the reaction, Pierre stretched his lips into a wide smirk and continued.
"You can't very well kill your daughter-to-be. This must be quite nerve-wracking for you. How very inconvenient this has all turned out, haha!"
*Griiind—* The sound of teeth grinding.
"I should be the one fighting that rotten bastard..."
The sound of Lucas gritting his teeth grated on Loan's nerves.
Of course, he had expected Sophie to be a combatant. There must have been a reason they had brainwashed her with dark arts and brought her here.
But if possible, he had hoped she would be his or Lucas's opponent. They had come all this way hoping for her safety.
*If it comes to it, I'll have to intervene.*
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the bell rang, signaling the start of the duel that would decide the fate of the two houses.
Sophie was the first to charge.
With a *boom*, the ground cracked as the distance between them closed in an instant.
Melville, gauging the weight of the greatsword with his lowered fingertips, recalled the words of his young master.
*'Greatswords are commonly known as weapons that overwhelm and destroy opponents with intimidating, explosive movements. But it seems the creator of the Albrecht swordsmanship focused instead on the connection of power.'*
Sophie's sword, raised vertically, fell in a straight, clean arc.
Melville and Loan both watched the fleeting moment as if it were stretched in time.
*'Focus on the connection point between your body and the greatsword—its very center. Entrust your body to the direction the power wants to extend, letting the flow become a fluid line. The line does not break but meets its starting point, becoming a circle. With the image of your strikes endlessly circulating and amplifying...'*
The moment wind finally stirred beneath the still Melville's feet, Loan's lips moved slightly.
"Now."
Simultaneously, Melville's massive sword reflected the sunlight, dazzling everyone's eyes.
He dodged Sophie's sword with one rotation, passed her, then returned with two more rotations.
*KWAAAAANG—!*
Struck by the flat of the blade, Sophie was sent flying several meters, tumbling across the ground.
And then, she didn't move.
The surroundings were deafeningly silent.
Just as the sound of the wind blowing up from the cliff below became distractingly loud, the notary from Versa urgently shouted.
"Victory to Albrecht!"
And the moment victory was declared!
*BOOM—!*
Lucas suddenly leaped onto the stage.
The move was so explosive that no one could react; they could only watch.
The instant Lucas pulled the fallen Sophie into his arms to check on her, Pierre, the eldest son of Pobel, jumped onto the stage and pointed his longsword at him.
"What do you think you're doing!"
Lucas handed Sophie to Melville and gave a slight nod, as if telling him to go back.
Then, he slowly opened his lips, hidden beneath his mask.
"We won. This woman is House Albrecht's prize. We'll take her as collateral."
"By what right, you bastard?"
"I'm the second combatant."
Lucas slowly drew the greatsword from his back and aimed it at Pierre.
"If it's your turn, stay. If it's not, stay anyway."