Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Meteor Knights' Provocation
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The Meteor Knights were divided into a total of four units.
Among them, the one serving as captain of the 4th Knights Unit was Dratein Glasis.
The youngest son of the Glasis family.
A promising talent recognized for his swordsmanship skills.
Thanks to that, he had claimed the captain's position at a young age.
But right now, he couldn't hide his irritation.
Recently, rumors had spread that Volants, one of the 4th Unit's vice-captains, and his subordinates had been defeated by a single man named Dante.
He'd been mocked endlessly by his brothers over it.
His teeth still ground in fury at the memory.
And that very Dante had shown up here, right on cue.
"That one's Dante?"
Dratein glared at Dante.
The super rookie whose name was on everyone's lips lately, Dante.
'They say he broke through to the 3rd stratum in record time?'
But something felt off.
The Dante in his eyes didn't seem to possess that level of skill.
Impressive, sure, but only to that extent.
Not quite living up to the hype.
"Ugh, C-Captain, we're sorry. Just ignore him, please."
Volants was sweating bullets, trying to divert Dratein's attention.
He knew Dratein's temperament all too well.
Dratein couldn't tolerate anyone getting the better of him.
The rumor that the 4th Unit had been crushed by a single person was something he despised above all else lately.
Volants had been chewed out so badly over it that he still felt dizzy.
But what Volants feared right now wasn't Dratein—it was Havel.
That man was a monster you didn't even want to associate with.
Just facing him had left Volants's mouth parched.
The memory of his mind going blank under that pressure was still vivid.
He didn't want to go through that again.
"Volants."
But Dratein interpreted Volants's reaction in a different light.
"Don't tell me you're scared?"
Dratein didn't know about Havel.
Or rather, he felt nothing from him at all.
In Dratein's eyes, Havel was little more than Dante's pack mule.
A porter to carry the baggage.
So Dratein paid him no mind.
To him, it just looked like Volants was cowering before Dante.
"I never imagined my knights would include a coward like you."
"C-Coward? I'm not—"
"Shut up. Don't make me any angrier."
Dratein shouted at Volants, his contempt plain to see.
A tantrum would have been one thing, but this cowardice was unbearable.
Volants's face drained of color.
"All of you, wait here."
Dratein turned away.
Then he started walking toward Dante.
Volants wanted to stop him somehow.
But he dreaded the scolding that would follow.
He didn't want to lose the vice-captain position he'd clawed his way into.
"Nice to meet you. You're that rookie everyone's talking about, Dante, right?"
As Dratein struck up a conversation, Dante glanced at Havel for his reaction.
The day Volants had picked a fight with him at the tavern.
Havel had gotten pretty heated about the Glasis family.
So he was worried about how he'd respond.
But Havel showed no particular reaction.
He was just quietly watching Dratein.
That somehow made Dante even more uneasy.
But for now, he decided to reply.
"Yes, that's me."
"It's an honor to meet a famous rookie like you. I heard you haven't been in the Tower long, but you've already reached the 4th stratum."
"You're too kind."
As Dante gave a measured response, Dratein smiled slowly.
"What a coincidence, though. Who would've thought we'd enter the 4th stratum at the same time?"
It was indeed a coincidence, just as he said.
An unwelcome one.
"Oh, and sorry about our vice-captain's rudeness the other day. I gave him a proper dressing-down."
Dratein said it with shameless ease.
But Dante clearly felt the barb hidden in his words.
"It even caused some friction with the Banpellyons. We can't have that between families, you know."
And now he was dragging the families into it.
Dante checked Havel's reaction once more.
But he was still just silently observing.
"So, how about it? A friendly match, representing our families."
"A friendly match?"
"Yeah, a friendly contest—who clears the 4th stratum first."
Dante felt a surge of absurdity.
They had an entire knights unit; he and Havel were just two people.
Anyone could see which side had the easier time.
'What a lame provocation.'
This so-called friendly match was outright bullying.
Dratein was clearly planning to restore his reputation with this.
"Should be fine, right? With how fast you climbed the Tower, it could be a good contest."
He flashed a malicious grin.
Accept, and they'd smash them.
Refuse, and they'd spread rumors of Dante chickening out.
Honestly, Dante didn't care much about rumors.
What worried him right now was Havel's mood.
"This should be fun."
And just like that, his worst fear came true.
Havel spoke up.
His smile was like one watching a puppy's antics.
"Havel, about this—"
Dante tried to mediate quickly.
But it was already too late.
These fools didn't even know their place, yapping like thunderclouds.
As a former member of their liege family, how could he just stand by?
"Dante, accept it."
Dante fell silent.
Havel had accepted the proposal.
That settled it.
"But a plain friendly match sounds boring, doesn't it?"
And now Havel was making a counteroffer.
"Hey, you Glasis brat."
"What? Brat?"
"Your vice-captain said something funny the other day. That to apologize, the one who becomes the master should come."
Dratein's eyes twisted in fury.
For a mere mercenary to overstep like that.
"So you're saying I should apologize again, even after I already did?"
Dratein interpreted Havel's "one who becomes the master" as referring to himself.
Havel looked at him with utter disbelief.
"Who said anything about wanting an apology from a nobody like you, without even any family authority?"
But the response shattered Dratein's assumptions.
Dratein finally widened his eyes in realization.
He'd figured out who Havel meant by "master."
"You mad bastard!"
Even as Dratein bellowed, Havel picked at his ear.
Openly ignoring him.
"When you say 'master,' it means the head of the same family has to show up."
He was pointing straight at the head of the Glasis family.
The Sword Saint of this era.
Lebltein Glasis.
A living legend.
Seeing him invoke his most revered father, Dratein exploded in rage.
That rage instantly turned to killing intent.
He planned to kill this insolent fool on the spot for mocking his father.
"How dare you speak his name!"
His hand moved to the hilt, ready to draw.
The killing intent pouring from him was enough to freeze even Dante in place.
But Havel scoffed at the rat-shit-level pressure.
At the same time, Havel's own aura shifted in an instant.
A flash of fury mixed into his blue eyes.
"Hey, who do you think you're venting killing intent at?"
Clang!
In that moment, Dratein's killing intent shattered like a broken window.
He couldn't draw his sword.
A primal instinct screamed through his body that he mustn't.
Dratein panicked.
Cold sweat poured down.
'What the hell is this guy?'
Havel saw it and withdrew his pressure.
No need to wrestle with a kid any longer.
"Then we're agreed."
With that, he turned away.
The outcome was already set, after all.
"W-Wait! We haven't discussed the rewards if we win!"
Regaining his wits, Dratein blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
But it meant nothing to Havel.
"Decide whatever you want."
As if to say, dream on about winning.
As Havel left, Dante followed after giving him a quick glance.
Left alone, Dratein's face flushed crimson.
Yet even in his humiliation, he still couldn't draw his sword.
That fact only fueled his anger more.
"What was that? Some kind of fight?"
"Looks like it."
"Meteor Knights, huh."
Meanwhile, the climbers whispered among themselves, watching.
Sensitive to killing intent as they were, they'd sensed the tension.
"...Volants."
"Y-Yes, Captain!"
Dratein called out to Volants.
"You know that guy."
Volants's face went pale.
"Tell me everything about what happened that day."
This contest might not be the easy win he thought.
4th stratum.
The eternal frozen zone.
Or, as some called it, the frozen snow desert.
A place blanketed in white snow over sand.
Amid the snow desert, white stone pillars rose here and there, exuding an eerie atmosphere.
As if a ruined civilization untouched by human feet.
The world atop the pristine snow desert resembled a realm long perished.
Crack—.
Suddenly, part of the snow desert collapsed, sand spilling down.
A glacier beneath had split, forming a crevasse.
After the storm-ravaged lightning zone came this freezing hell.
The Tower's malice was evident.
The key to the snow desert was avoiding the crevasses.
Beneath them lurked countless calamity beasts.
Always waiting for prey to drop.
Like antlion larvae in a pitfall.
Climbers called it the frozen hell.
Which meant you couldn't carry much supplies in the 4th stratum.
The whipping snow-sand constantly shifted paths, making it easy to get lost.
Some say those who die in the eternal frozen zone perish from cold and hunger.
Only those who endure the test of patience can pass.
In the midst of this endless snow desert.
Havel and Dante were climbing one of its dunes.
"Um, Havel."
Dante called out to him then.
A hint of worry laced his words.
"Worried we'll lose?"
"No, not that at all."
Dante knew Havel's skills better than anyone.
Defeat in a friendly match?
He hadn't even considered it from the start.
What concerned Dante was something else.
"I'm worried about the stakes."
In the era Havel had lived, things might have been different, but now was the age of the Five Great Families.
Among them, the Glasis family, with their Sword Saint, was called a swordsmanship dynasty.
Demanding an apology from their patriarch, Lebltein?
Others wouldn't even dare think it.
And even if they got it, the fallout wouldn't be minor.
That was what Dante fretted over.
"Don't worry. The apology I'm after is for something else."
"Something else?"
Dante tilted his head.
What else could it be?
Then his face hardened as realization dawned.
'No way.'
Dante turned to Havel.
Havel wore a faint smile.
"They need to apologize for betraying the Banpellyons."
Dante realized his hunch was right.
Of course, the Glasis would never apologize for that.
Because admitting it would mean confessing they'd betrayed the Banpellyons.
They'd have to be insane to do so.
But absolutes didn't exist.
Havel would wring that apology from them, no doubt.
He had that kind of power.
And that meant the Glasis were finished that day.
'This friendly match.'
It might balloon into something utterly absurd.
"Haha, can't wait. Right, Dante?"
Havel laughed heartily as he climbed the snow dune.
"Y-Yeah."
Watching him, Dante prayed inwardly.
That Arthur wouldn't collapse from shock when he heard about this.