Chapter 60
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Joseph's Crushing Victory
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Clang.
With a sharp sound, a shield emblazoned with the imperial family's crest rolled across the arena floor.
If Lancelot had declared by action earlier that he wouldn't use a shield, Prince Ricardo was showing an attitude as if he had no need for such a thing.
The sight of him gripping a halberd that looked enormously heavy even at a glance with his right arm bulging with thick muscles, swinging it around with one hand, made him look nothing like a fourteen-year-old.
Standing before him, the twelve-year-old Prince Joseph looked like a real child compared to Prince Ricardo.
Because of his slender build, his long-sleeved clothes hung a bit loose, and his pale face, which still hadn't lost its youthful innocence, looked frail to anyone who saw it.
Moreover, Prince Joseph's sword was a saber—a thin, curved blade with an edge on one side only. It looked no match at all for the halberd.
"Hey, Joseph."
Ricardo said with a sleazy smile.
"While I wasn't looking, you've been up to all sorts of things, huh? Hey? You getting engaged?"
At those words alone, Joseph's aura shifted even as he simply stood there. Hiding his eyes behind his long bangs, Joseph drew his sword in one swift motion.
Shing-.
The well-maintained curved blade gleamed under the sunlight. It was the type of sword with an edge on one side only.
Bracing the ground with his lightly bent legs, Joseph slowly tilted his sword forward, exuding a strangely relaxed air.
Without showing his expression, Joseph's red lips moved slowly.
"I did tell you in advance, brother."
"What? Hey, what'd you say? Speak up louder."
"That I had no intention of going easy on you today."
Ricardo's expression soured instantly at words he never expected to hear from Joseph.
The moment Joseph's words ended, he kicked off the ground.
Even considering Joseph's slender frame, his bizarrely swift movement made the hundreds of spectators in the stands snap their heads in unison.
Ricardo flashed a triumphant smile toward the direction Joseph was charging and raised his halberd high. A gleaming green aura clung to the halberd as it swung down fiercely with murderous intent, as if ready to cleave Joseph in half.
-Ooooh!
-Eek, I can't watch!
The stands erupted in chaos the very next moment.
Boom!
Ricardo's halberd missed its target despite its momentum and slammed into the arena floor. The impact echoed loud enough to reach the far end of the venue.
Ricardo quickly recovered his halberd and unwittingly took a step back.
It was unbelievable, but he'd missed his opponent.
Missed completely...
'...I clearly saw it perfectly.'
It wasn't a glancing blow—he'd missed entirely.
Ricardo's eyes wandered aimlessly, searching for the silhouette of black hair.
'...W-where'd he go?'
At that moment, a voice came from right behind him.
"First one."
The flat of the curved sword struck Ricardo's shoulder hard.
"Argh!"
The pain was enough to draw an involuntary scream, imperial dignity be damned.
Ricardo noticed the referee in front of him fumbling for his whistle in confusion, and only then did he belatedly realize the sword was already threatening the right side of his neck.
The blade that had struck his left shoulder had somehow changed direction and arrived here without him noticing.
Impossible.
Frankly, it bruised his pride, but he knew Joseph had been just a tiny bit better than him in skill back in their childhood.
But his own skills had improved tremendously lately. Threatening Joseph had just been to make the annoying brat back off on his own—he'd never truly seen him as a real threat.
And according to recent intel, Joseph's "feigned illness" wasn't feigned at all.
That was why Ricardo had stopped bothering to check him further.
'They said he'd drop in an instant if he even fought... What the hell is this? Damn it.'
So this wasn't a real loss for him.
Just one mistake.
Clang!
Ricardo parried Joseph's sword forcefully and created distance.
"You damn brat, what trick did you pull?"
Joseph obligingly backed off with unnatural compliance. Ricardo had expected him to press the attack immediately for the finish, but Joseph generously gave him time to regroup.
Ricardo grimaced, vowing not to let his guard down this time, and enveloped his halberd—now gripped with both hands—in aura.
"No harm done on my end. Even if this match drags on. I've got plenty to do myself."
Ricardo felt a bizarre illusion that beneath Joseph's expressionless face, which muttered something incomprehensible, a smiling one was hiding.
The stands naturally buzzed with murmurs.
"...Was he always like that?"
"No, I... I had no idea either."
"...Honestly, I couldn't see a thing."
"Finishing moves... Yeah, I barely saw them too, but he's attempted three already. And during that... Prince Ricardo hasn't gained the upper hand even once."
"Shh, quiet. It's happening again."
Joseph's saber reached Prince Ricardo's neck.
The fourth time. Joseph's saber touching Ricardo's body.
"Good heavens..."
Everyone had expected a one-sided match.
And it was indeed one-sided.
But the direction of the dominance was the complete opposite of what anyone predicted.
Prince Joseph was the one cornering his opponent relentlessly, while Prince Ricardo could only let out cries of "Huh? What? Huh?" as he was mercilessly driven into a corner. No matter how masterfully he wielded his heavy weapon, the overwhelming speed gap rendered it useless.
From the first attempt to the fourth, Joseph had continually threatened only with the edgeless side of his slightly curved saber blade.
Just as Charlotte had said.
But Ricardo ground his teeth and, refusing to cry surrender, smacked away the sword at his neck.
To the spectators, the skill gap was glaringly obvious, yet his refusal to admit clean defeat and dragging out the match was anything but a pretty sight.
"What the... is that guy..."
"...Shh! Watch your words."
"...No, but after all these matches so far, putting on such an unsightly show in front of foreign guests..."
No one dared jeer loudly, but a massive wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
If he weren't a prince but someone from a ducal house, the entire arena would have been raining boos by now.
The emperor, who had been lounging against the lowest stands, had at some point shot to his feet, clutching the railing. His face, fixed on Ricardo, was rigidly tense.
What a tournament full of surprises.
Swordsmanship, spearmanship—martial arts were inevitably influenced by age, no matter how great the talent.
Once the body fully matured, a year or two's difference wasn't much, but for growing children, the growth spurt between one month and the next could vary wildly. It often felt like an insurmountable wall.
Thus, at the Shadow Blade Day tournament, it was natural for older kids nearing adulthood to showcase superior prowess.
Kids at nine or twelve were usually there just to pass qualifiers and make their faces and names known to the crowd, hoping for their day in the sun someday.
Yet for some reason, this tournament featured unusually standout performances from the young ones.
One of them was Prince Joseph Veros Cheiker of the current match.
"V-Victory for Prince Joseph."
The referee declared the winner with a trembling voice.
After a total of eight finishing attempts, Prince Ricardo finally admitted defeat.
The suffocating silence blanketing the entire arena lingered long after.
In that deathly quiet, where even a deep breath would echo, the empress ground her teeth softly.
"That... that damned brat... I'll kill him."
The only one who might have heard her grip the armrest and spit those words was probably the first prince, who had returned quickly after his own swift defeat and sat nearby.
"No... What is all this... Mother, please calm down."
First Prince Kegan tried to soothe her, but Empress Selen's rage didn't subside easily. She bit her lip hard, then glared fiercely at her eldest, who had already suffered a crushing loss.
"Calm down? My beloved firstborn is sitting here watching the matches, and my second son suffers that humiliation—yet you tell me to calm down on a day like this?"
Kegan sweated profusely, offering excuses.
"...What can we do about the results? Ricardo must not be feeling well today."
The empress shook her head.
Not feeling well?
No, he was in perfect health.
Ricardo, who had spent the last five years preparing solely for this day—it wasn't an exaggeration.
He had arrived in peak condition.
So how had it come to this...?
Ricardo, defeated.
On Shadow Blade Day, which came once every five years.
In the first main round match, not even the finals.
By Aienne's loathsome spawn, Joseph, of all people.
Her nerves frayed to the breaking point.
The more she thought, the more absurd it seemed.
It all had to be because His Majesty the Emperor still kept that child as a prince.
Then she caught sight of the emperor abruptly rising from his seat.
As if on cue, the spectators beside him stood with entranced expressions, and like a wave, the entire arena's crowd slowly followed suit.
The empress glared daggers at the emperor's back.
'Because it's an unusual match? Or to show respect by standing?'
Either way, the emperor's and crowd's reactions grated on her utterly.