Speechless at the Sight of Sprawled Corin
I was at a loss for words staring at Corin, who lay spread-eagled on the ground. This weak? For real? He was even worse than Paul, the weakest among my knights.
Well, with a bit of exaggeration, that was the case. The skill of this guy, the captain of the Imperial 2nd Knight Order, was just that pathetic. Even if we'd agreed not to use sword aura...
This is too much, isn't it?
"Get up already, Sir Corin."
"......"
I spoke in a tone of utter disbelief, and Corin staggered to his feet. As I glared at him, I recalled how much he'd underestimated me at the start. He hadn't even gripped his sword properly, standing in a half-hearted stance. It was blatant disdain.
So, if he'd let his guard down and lost this lamely, it made sense. In a magnanimous gesture, I decided to give him one more chance.
"Grip your sword again."
"...Pardon?"
Still dazed, as if he couldn't shake off the shock, Corin blinked blankly and asked again.
"I'll give you another shot. Come at me once more."
Everyone except my people was just as stunned as Corin, so no one tried to stop me. Corin blinked a few times before unconsciously raising his sword again.
"You still think you're dreaming? Do it properly this time!"
"Ah, yes!"
Suddenly fired up, Corin looked at me with uncharacteristic seriousness. A storm flashed in his eyes for a moment before calming, and then he glared at me like he wanted to kill me. He probably thought I'd pulled some dirty trick just now. That his loss was mere coincidence, a fluke.
By giving him this second chance, I planned to shatter that arrogant notion completely.
Corin moved first. Fixing me with a fierce gaze, he unleashed that signature thrust of his. It was certainly a refined technique that southern knights couldn't parry. But...
"Kuhk!"
This was the north. A place where irregular moves bordering on fouls ran rampant.
I easily dodged the thrust and kicked his thigh with one foot. Corin let out a weird yelp and stumbled. Seizing the opening, I knocked his sword from his hand.
Clang.
The sound of the sword hitting the ground echoed starkly through the training grounds. Corin looked up at me in disbelief, eyes wide, as I held my blade to his throat.
I met his frantic gaze and sighed.
"Haa."
Too weak. Way too weak.
Two clashes had made it crystal clear. Pure swordsmanship, sans sword aura, and he was worse than Paul, my worst student. And this guy was a knight order captain? Facing advanced monsters with trash like him? Absurd.
"You're way too weak. You really the captain?"
"...Pardon?"
Corin still seemed clueless. Weak and dumb. The exact type I despised.
I sheathed my sword and turned away. Then I approached the crown prince, who stood there dumbfounded.
"Your Highness, I have a request."
"Wh-what is it?"
"Let me command the Imperial Knights' training for the time being."
"...!"
With skill gaps this wide, the Imperial Knights weren't just useless—they'd only drag us down. But on second thought, it was partly my fault. I'd been so focused on preparing for the monster surge—building walls, leveling up my knights—that the disparity had grown.
Since I'd jacked up the difficulty, I'd take responsibility. Through brutal training.
"If I may be so bold, Your Highness. From what I've seen of Sir Corin, the current Imperial Knights won't make much of a fighting force."
"...!"
The crown prince's eyes widened at my blunt words. One might expect outrage at me trash-talking the glorious Imperial Knights, but the prince and his knights alike were struck dumb. They'd just witnessed their captain get crushed by me—twice—in real time.
"Rest for today. Starting tomorrow, train with us."
Warp backlash would leave them wrecked, so training could wait till then. I was uneasy about another monster wave, but after taking such losses, they'd stay quiet for a bit. Strengthening our current forces came first.
* * *
Michael stared blankly at Abigail's retreating figure as she headed back into the castle. Even seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't believe it. Not the elite Golden Lion Order, sure, but this was the 2nd Knight Order's captain. A tough opponent even for Michael—yet Abigail had beaten him effortlessly. Twice.
"Your Highness, my apologies."
Corin approached, head bowed in shame. So cocky when he'd accepted the duel with the female vice-duke.
Michael shot him a cold look. Win or lose, he couldn't have stomached watching it fondly.
"Go rest."
"...Yes."
Under Michael's icy demeanor, Corin bowed and replied. He bit the soft inside of his cheek to swallow his humiliation. Only now did he grasp what he'd ruined.
He'd been the one to eagerly accept the duel proposed by the ducal side. To seize the initiative early, giving the Imperials the edge in monster subjugation. To punish those arrogant northerners.
Of course, beating a woman wouldn't have done much for a knight's honor. But he'd failed against the vice-duke he'd dismissed as female. And lost ugly—twice. He had no excuses left. No honor upheld, no duty to his lord fulfilled. He was a defeated wretch, head unraised.
"......"
Michael glanced at the dejected Corin shuffling away, then turned fully from him. Failing to seize control from the first bout meant finding another way.
He felt clear possessiveness toward Abigail. But to claim her, he had to clip her wings, keep her by his side. Otherwise, she'd fly off to distant horizons without a glance his way.
Even knowing how ugly that made him, he couldn't help it.
"Your Highness."
Patrick approached. Puzzled by the training grounds' chill, he eyed Michael's stiff face.
"What happened?"
He'd been elsewhere on orders upon arrival, missing the duel.
"Nothing much."
Michael shook his head dismissively, then asked Patrick, "What'd you find out?"
"Ah."
Snapping to, Patrick replied.
"Total injuries from the last battle: thirty-seven."
"Mm."
Including knights, soldiers, even casualties—it topped fifty. To fill the gaps, Carpoem sent their 3rd Knights, the Imperials their 2nd. The ducal strategists predicted another monster incursion soon. Low-level ones had retreated in fear after the advanced beast fell, but their numbers were ominous.
Michael could foresee a second wave.
"But really... are you going through with it?"
No one around, yet Patrick lowered his voice anxiously. Michael stiffened briefly, then nodded gravely.
"Yes. Proceed."
"......"
Patrick felt deeply uneasy. Before the warp portal, Michael had quietly ordered him to pack something: poison extracted from monsters, and its antidote. Patrick grasped the intent immediately.
Spread plague among the wounded from monster bites, then "generously" provide the cure. A ploy to naturally seize control.
Knowing Michael's nature well, Patrick shivered. Ever since the vice-duke mentioned breaking their engagement, Michael had started changing. As his closest watcher, Patrick sensed it: the growing obsession, the twisting greed.
"Understood, Your Highness."
Still, Patrick could only bow. The man he served was this crown prince before him. He could only pray all went smoothly.
* * *
I headed straight to Xavier's room. It wasn't far from my office. I knocked on his door.
Knock knock.
"Professor?"
After a moment, something crashed. Thud, clatter, boom. Familiar noises to me. I crossed my arms, Pel shrunken beside me and Ian at my other flank.
The door cracked open slightly.
"...Lady Abigail?"
"You opened up quick this time."
"Ha, haha."
Xavier flashed an awkward smile, then flinched seeing Pel through the gap. He seems secretly scared of dogs and beasts.
"Wait here, all of you."
[Got it.]
"Yes."
Leaving my sturdy escorts at the door, I stepped inside.
"Mm......"
The room's chaos left me speechless every time, drawing a small groan.
"Haha, I cleaned... sort of......"
"I'm sure you did."
I nodded to Xavier, who scratched his head sheepishly. He'd probably tried hard. But he'd always been hopeless at tidying. The mansion had maids to help, but out here at the base? No one. His room had become a natural dump. Add unnamed plants and monster hides from "experiments," and it reeked oddly.
I fought a grimace and faced him.
"Tea?"
"No, I'm good."
Drinking here might make me hurl.
I shook my head firmly. Xavier awkwardly set down the kettle.
Not wanting to linger, I cut to the chase.
"What was it you wanted to tell me earlier?"
"Well......"
Xavier trailed off, then abruptly stood.
What's he doing? As I watched curiously, he rummaged somewhere, muttering awkwardly.
"Huh? I swear I put it here......"
"......"
His desk was buried in books and papers, thick with dust. His frantic hands grew desperate. He'd never find it like that.
"Well, then find it later and—"
"Ah, here it is!"
"......"
Like magic, something appeared in his hand from the trash pile. He found it there? Thought it'd take ages. Now I sat back awkwardly.
"What's that?"
"This is......"
Xavier approached and held it out.
"Hm......"
Shattered glass? Dark, translucent shards filled the box. I peered curiously. The closer they got, the fainter glow they emitted.
"Huh?"
"As expected......"
Unlike my surprise, Xavier nodded knowingly and met my eyes straight on.
"This appears to be fragments of an ancient relic."