Chapter 24
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Wandering Duke Aselheit (3)
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Once the war against the black mages had ended, the Torch Knight Order formed by Aselheit disbanded. Yet a few knights, filled with admiration for him, chose to follow his will.
Like Aselheit, these knights had cast off all worldly chains, elevating their sole determination above all else to slay the black mages. Their lineage endured to this day, still operating under the name of the Torch Knight Order—a true gathering of knights possessing a sublime spirit.
"Me too! I want to join you! Lord Aselheit! Take me with you!"
Blanc knelt before Aselheit and cried out.
Bartolomeo and Berger couldn't hide their panic at the sight.
Joining the Torch Knight Order meant severing all ties to the mortal world and devoting one's life to a noble cause.
Bartolomeo and Berger were horrified at the sudden risk of losing their grandson—and potential son-in-law—Blanc.
In stark contrast, Edwin nodded in approval. To knights, the Torch Knight Order was an entity so honorable that any knight worth his salt had to seriously consider it at least once in their lifetime.
"B-Blanc, Baron. Calm yourself. You shouldn't base such a crucial life decision on a fleeting impulse. Listen to me, are you even hearing this?"
"What kind of disgrace is this in front of the busy Lord Aselheit? Blanc Cardmus! Get up at once!"
Bartolomeo and Berger were on edge, terrified that Blanc might actually join. But Blanc, too, prostrated himself with desperate sincerity.
'I've never heard of the Torch Knight Order knowing about the Void first!'
How did the Void come to be?
Who first named it the Void?
There was no time for such questions back then. Someone had already called it that, and people began echoing the name laced with fear.
By the time humanity recognized the Void's danger in Blanc's previous life, it was already too late.
Too late to stem their endless spread.
Nations crumbled, religions fell, and everything humans had built collapsed.
It wasn't a calamity unique to humans.
Elves, dwarves, halflings, fairies—all intelligent beings on this land, and everything they had created, was turning to Void.
From that hellish gap between worlds, the survivors banded together to form the Liberation Front.
Yet here, thirty years earlier, they already knew of the Void.
And not only that—they were preparing to combat it.
Were the Void Aselheit spoke of the same as the future Void Blanc knew?
If so, why was the link between the present Torch Knight Order and the future Liberation Front severed?
To resolve these doubts, Blanc knelt before Aselheit.
"Hmmm..."
Aselheit eyed Blanc with half-lidded eyes, his gaze inscrutable.
Bartolomeo and Berger stared at him, at a complete loss.
To them, Blanc was the bedrock for securing the next generation. They planned to forge strong family bonds through him and pass on their influence to their heirs.
But if Aselheit took a liking to Blanc and whisked him away, all those plans would crumble to dust.
"A young man who still knows how to throw himself into the fray with such spirit. It seems my path hasn't been in vain."
Aselheit let out a hearty laugh.
And at his following words, Bartolomeo and Berger paled.
"I like that spirit. Baron Blanc, take up your sword and follow me."
Though his hands had been injured, they had nearly fully healed. In a situation like this, he would have followed even with wounds.
It was a spar with the legend of legends, Aselheit.
"Yes, sir!"
Yonas, who had been holed up in the family estate—not quite in seclusion, but close—noticed the commotion outside and asked,
"What's going on?"
"W-Well... Lord Aselheit has come to visit."
"Aselheit... Aselheit... Aselheit? The Wandering Duke Aselheit?"
"Yes, young master. It's him."
Upon hearing the name of the Wandering Duke Aselheit, Yonas hurriedly prepared to go out without realizing it himself.
"Wait, why? What's he doing at our house? I need to pay my respects. Where is he?"
"That's..."
"Don't hem and haw! Spit it out!"
The newly assigned valet to Yonas knew full well of his past misdeeds.
Including the incidents with Izrelin and Blanc.
That's why he hesitated to tell Yonas. Speaking the truth would undoubtedly stir his inferiority complex.
"You insolent fool! Can't you speak?!"
Unaware of the valet's turmoil, Yonas glared at him with bloodshot eyes, demanding an answer.
Fearing the immediate threat more than future repercussions, the valet had no choice but to tell the truth.
"He's heading to the family training grounds right now..."
"Perfect! This is my chance to catch Lord Aselheit's eye."
Yonas had fallen out of Schmaier's good graces. Seizing this golden opportunity might earn his father's recognition once more.
"But... however..."
"What?!"
But as the valet hesitated to continue, Yonas impatiently pressed him.
"Lord Bartolomeo ordered that no one be allowed in."
"What does that mean?"
If the Wandering Duke Aselheit had come, they should have lined up all the grandsons for introduction—it wouldn't be enough.
Yet no one was to enter?
"Lord Aselheit is... mentoring Baron Blanc. So no one is to enter..."
Though innocent, the valet flung himself to the floor and bowed deeply.
Thus, he didn't see it—Yonas's expression shattering into pieces.
Aselheit and Blanc arrived at the Tolome Family's training grounds, accompanied only by Bartolomeo, Berger, Edwin, and a handful of knights.
'Wow, the training grounds really are impressive.'
Even before the unparalleled Aselheit, Blanc admired the grounds. The past thirty years had made him bold enough to have such thoughts even with a legend in front of him.
While Blanc surveyed the grounds in awe, Aselheit headed straight to the rack of wooden swords and began inspecting them.
"Hmmm..."
"Lord Aselheit, if you'd just say the word, we'll fetch any weapon you desire."
"No, no need. Rather than those... yes, that one will do."
Aselheit bypassed the wooden swords and approached a mop in the corner of the training grounds.
The group couldn't hide their bewilderment at his actions.
He pulled the wooden pole from the mop as if it were nothing and smiled in satisfaction, as if it were perfect.
"Those wooden swords over there are too sharp. Can't have the earl's precious grandson getting hurt, now can we?"
"...Pardon?"
A practice wooden sword being sharp? Wooden swords didn't have edges to begin with.
Even the great Bartolomeo deflated at Aselheit's baffling remark.
Having found a suitable weapon, Aselheit stepped onto the sparring arena, and Blanc followed eagerly, as if he'd been waiting.
The young boy and the legendary swordsman locked eyes and assumed their stances.
"Come at me, young baron."
"Thank you for this honor, Duke."
"Haha... I don't even hold a ducal title—it's just an honorary moniker people bestowed upon me..."
Before Aselheit could finish, Blanc enveloped himself in White Lightning and lunged, thrusting forward in a blink.
Not a hint of hesitation.
It was swift and fast—quickness incarnate.
'This madman!'
Everyone except Aselheit was stunned by Blanc's move.
Not because it was exceptional—though it was, and some knights hadn't even seen it—but for another reason.
'This lunatic doesn't hold back against anyone, even in practice with me.'
Edwin shook his head.
The legend among legends. And Blanc had thrust his sword before Aselheit even finished speaking.
'Is this rude? We exchanged greetings, so maybe not? Has that kid lost his mind?'
While everyone was entranced by the legendary swordsman's presence, only Bartolomeo—who bore responsibility for it all—stomped anxiously.
Even Blanc, who had casually thrust at Aselheit, found himself in a bind.
'No openings at all.'
He could spot gaps even in his teacher Edwin—though they were deliberate setups for counters.
But Aselheit showed none. It felt like swinging a sword at a tree.
'Ten tries should leave a mark.'
Edwin's Shooting Meteors.
White-glowing meteors shot mercilessly toward Aselheit like lightning.
Yet against the bloodthirsty strikes, Aselheit smiled with delight, parrying each one effortlessly.
Since becoming a legend, no swordsman had truly challenged him in earnest.
Fellow swordsmen held back out of respect, and black mages who could rival him surrendered instead of fighting.
But this boy was different.
He neither treated him as a legend nor fled in fear.
Just sword against sword.
The skill gap was vast, but he charged with genuine intent to topple him.
'It's been ages!'
This thrill was long forgotten. Even if Blanc's attacks were mere child's play.
'He has flashes of brilliance.'
Aselheit carefully dissected Blanc's swordsmanship, glimpsing his talent in fleeting moments.
A talent worthy of the Knight of Swiftness as a disciple.
"Whoa!"
Judging thrusts insufficient, Blanc dove in aggressively.
Unfazed, he charged the legend: one hand stabbing with his arming sword, the other reaching to grab Aselheit's collar.
'Huh? What?'
Bartolomeo's insides burned watching Blanc's reckless assault.
"Excellent! Well done!"
Edwin, oblivious to Bartolomeo's agony, clapped in praise.
Even swordsmen needed punches in close-quarters brawls.
Edwin, who specialized in swift infiltrations, was adept at fisticuffs.
He couldn't help but admire Blanc unleashing those lessons flawlessly.
But even he cried out at Blanc's final move.
Blanc attempted a headbutt on Aselheit.
"This crazy bastard!"
Bartolomeo unwittingly blurted it out in shock.
"I never taught him headbutts..."
Regardless of the surrounding shock, Aselheit was simply enjoying himself.
Blanc, cloaked in White Lightning, evoked a young wolf's movements.
And that pup's fangs and claws were already plenty sharp.
'The future looks promising!'
Aselheit had planned to merely block and offer a few pointers, but he changed his mind.
He'd crack open the boy's head and show him a wider world.
"Then, my turn now?"
Aselheit asked the panting Blanc.
"An honor."
At Aselheit's signal, Blanc rooted himself firmly, focusing every nerve on his sword tip.
Watching Blanc struggle desperately, Aselheit smiled amiably and raised the wooden pole high.
Then slowly... ever so slowly... brought it down.
But to Blanc facing the descending pole...
'Ugh... Argh... Aaaah!'
The world was coming at him.