Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Eye of the Typhoon (4)
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The northern reaches of the empire always saw the sun rise late.
The overcast skies and chill air were enough to dampen anyone's spirits on a normal day.
But not today.
Tens of thousands of citizens were buzzing with excitement over the rare grand event.
They flooded into the north's largest coliseum, Irina Hall.
"We really get to see Steelman today, right?"
"Are you a fan of his? I'm dying to see Lady Celestia in action."
The masses each had their favorites, a testament to the tournament's immense prestige.
And this time, it was unprecedented—with powerhouses from the Bakar Kingdom and the eastern continent joining in.
Needless to say, today's event was the talk of the town.
"Who's that guy up first? Never seen him before."
"Isn't that the name from the papers? Derek Minster."
"Ah, no way... the mafia don?"
"Spot on. The notorious brat known as the north's massive serpent."
The warden's name had grown legendary, rivaling even the empire's top holy knight, the Tutton Grand Duchess.
From her seat in the VIP box, Princess Camillia watched with a satisfied smile.
A stage to unveil her first confidant before thousands.
If he proved himself hers here...
'No other woman will dare come sniffing around.'
Camillia gazed down at the grand coliseum like a massive birdcage.
She planned to show the world her chosen hatchling in full bloom.
"You seem in high spirits, Your Highness."
The white-haired prime minister seated at the center of the VIP box offered a kindly smile.
Archbishop Sophia sat beside him, the two radiating an air of secret collusion.
Yet the sly old fox made no effort to hide it.
On the contrary, he brimmed with confidence amid Steelman and the Tutton Grand Duchess's presence.
"It seems Your Highness's knight this time is quite formidable."
He knew exactly who it was but feigned ignorance.
Camillia shot back firmly.
"Naturally. You won't be disappointed today, Prime Minister Aintz."
"I'll keep both eyes wide open."
Their tense verbal sparring eased as the tournament's host made his entrance.
The empire's paramount noble, who had ruled the north for over two centuries.
Northern Grand Duke Coldman had arrived.
"Everyone's full of energy even before the matches begin."
The family head, who had lorded over the empire since its early days, offered his greeting.
With his black hair and blue eyes, his first impression evoked a leopard commanding the mountains.
"Greetings, Your Highness."
"It's been too long, Coldman. Hardly see you these days."
"As you see, we've had major events lately. But I've kept an ear to Your Highness's news daily."
"For a famously insular man like you to take interest in me—I'm honored."
Camillia and Coldman shook hands.
Though their palms were both icy as glacial peaks.
"......"
In the cramped lands of the north, two bosses made for an uneasy fit.
They wore formal smiles, but their eyes waged silent war.
'Is this one backing Prince Ivan too?'
'Camillia, what gives you the nerve to accept this challenge?'
The Northern Grand Duke had yet to declare official support for any imperial heir.
Which made this occasion all the more crucial.
The victor here would wield massive influence in the north.
And that outcome would sway whom Coldman backed.
"I've prepared fine wine before the matches. Please enjoy it as an appetizer."
The grand stands stretched out on either side.
Below lay the vast arena floor.
The empire's power players awaited today's protagonists.
The holy knight to save his beleaguered faith.
The eldest daughter to earn her stern father's approval.
And one more, to avert the empire's downfall.
"Prepare for the battlefield."
The words of a former national scribe hung boldly in the contestant lounge.
It brimmed with challengers readying for today's bouts.
The more renowned knights received professional care.
"Agility enhancement complete."
"Much obliged."
Wealthy nobles summoned mages for body-boosting buffs.
"Take this rampage potion only in emergencies."
"Won't need it—don't worry."
Well-connected ones even scored top-tier potions from alchemists.
The blatant wealth gap stirred envy and resentment among poorer entrants.
Into this scene strode a man more plainly dressed than any.
'First time in a northern arena.'
A small bag over one shoulder.
A single longsword at his belt.
As all tensed, I alone sat lost in reminiscence.
"......"
My spartan setup drew every rival's gaze.
They eyed oddly the man pulling only a dagger and handkerchief for a major tourney.
How confident—or arrogant—must he be to show up so unprepared?
The most intrigued were those laden with buffs and gear.
"Impressive confidence."
I glanced at the platinum-haired man beside me.
His ornate long hair cascaded to his waist, his eagle-sharp eyes piercing.
He radiated white mana fiercely, despite not yet fighting—thanks to Holy See buffs and equipment.
And those ornate pauldrons on his shoulders.
He cut a figure straight out of scripture, a holy knight in stunning form.
"Confidence?"
"Yes. Just standard uniform and one bag for such a grand event?"
He smiled, gesturing at my outfit.
True, others arrived swathed in heavy armor.
"I don't care for the extra weight."
"Hm... so you're skilled with concealed or thrown weapons, then."
The holy knight clapped insightfully.
I responded with a seasoned smile.
"You, with those buffs and pauldrons, look the heavy knight type. Bad matchup for me."
"Haha... that obvious?"
The man brushed back his platinum locks gracefully.
His handsome face lit with a bright smile.
"Truth be told, I don't care for this gear either."
"Yet you've wrapped yourself in plenty."
"It's from guilds partnering with the Holy See. Wearing it benefits them."
"Sponsorship, huh."
Surprisingly, he spoke dissatisfied with his perks.
He waved his thickly gloved hands.
"Exactly. The Church's high hopes forced this ill-fitting getup on me."
Steelman offered a handshake in earnest.
"Steelman Nord. You're my first opponent, Derek Minster, right?"
"You knew."
"Impossible not to. Among everyone here, you and Lady Celestia have the fiercest auras."
"......"
The red-haired knightess across from me glared coldly.
The moment she learned I was Derek Minster, her eyes turned wary.
'Can't blame her.'
This eldest daughter, the spitting image of her honor-bound father, lived and died by justice.
To her, a notoriety like mine was prey begging purification.
"No wonder the plain clothes. Who'd back scum like that?"
Clad in red uniform, she bore a massive polearm on her shoulder.
Petite but rigorously trained—her mana as dense as Swordmaster Steelman's.
"Grand Duchess, don't get too heated. His Highness always says stay calm."
"I know."
Her house mage advised earnestly while buffing her.
Already a swordmaster, yet piling on buffs and elite gear.
It spoke volumes about the stakes.
The Minster house's entry here must irk her greatly.
"Hey. If you're forfeiting, do it before the match. Don't flaunt that shabby getup."
"No plans to forfeit."
I replied while polishing my plain dagger, eyes never straying to Celestia.
"So you'll really face us like that?"
"Honestly, a bit worrying. Even brimming with confidence, barehanded against buffed swordmasters..."
This time Steelman chimed in.
As if pitying a weak foe unworthy of full effort.
"You think this sacred bout a joke?"
"Hire a mage nearby while you can."
But...
Their scornful glares soon faded entirely.
―――, ―――.
The lounge door swung open...
And in walked a celebrity every contestant knew.
"......"
Tall knights in imperial uniforms.
At their center stood a middle-aged man around 160cm.
"Who here is Derek Minster?"
His elite guards demanded loudly.
I raised a reluctant hand.
"Over here, sir."
"Right. Come."
The half-dwarf halted before me.
Unfazed facing the grand duchess and top holy knight, arms crossed behind.
"Who might you be...?"
I knew him, of course.
The legendary smith who'd forged arms for imperial heroes.
But no reason for him to seek me, so I played dumb.
"Kawitt. Sent by Her Highness Camillia."
The renowned artisan, revered even in the palace, appeared.
Contestants who'd ignored me gaped.
"She wants me to kit you out for today."
"Me? How could a count's house accept imperial gear?"
The half-dwarf waved off my caution.
With a snap of his fingers...
"It's fine. The kid paid handsomely enough to bend the rules."
His tall guards knelt, opening a leather case.
Inside, a single 'cube' dwarfed by the case.
"Explanation first. Your hands say you're ready for top-shelf right away."
The imperial craftsman sized me up instantly from my hands.
As he drew the cube...
Whoooosh―――.
The dwarf's masterful cube disassembled itself.
A massive display rack filled the lounge center.
Beautiful enough to stun all onlookers.
"Any style preference?"
The continent's premier smith proudly showcased his masterpieces.
Weapons worthy of history books, each one.
"Not the noble knight type. I wield whatever works."
Regressed me inquired smoothly, as in my prime minister days.
Pleased by my prompt answers, he curated deftly.
"Then I recommend the inaugural dagger 'Hatred' of former Black Knights Captain Lynn Canary."
He elegantly presented the assassins' holy grail.
A once-in-a-lifetime legendary piece.
"Twin to the 'Malice' you hide. A venomous serpent that brutally pierces any holy armor."
I claimed the legendary artifact with flair.
Its air-slicing edge reflected my face.
And beyond, the dumbfounded visages of Celestia and Steelman.
"Perfect. Throwing weapon too?"
"Late empress's famed dagger set, 'Black Rain'—spot on."
The smith handed over another artifact packed with short daggers.
I slotted them between fingers, striking a throwing pose.
Even in my dark lord days, I'd never held such elite arms—the grip felt divine on first touch.
"Her Highness has an eye. Taming my masterpieces at once."
Kawitt, pleased, asked boldly.
"No buffs for the matches?"
"No need. Your gear suffices."
"Fine confidence. Leaning on outside aid in a proving ground is pathetic."
The smith eyed the seated holy knight and grand duchess steadily.
They coughed awkwardly, averting eyes.
"......Gear upgrade changes nothing."
"No buffs, still easy prey."
The rivals tsked.
But even their tongues soon froze stiff.
―――, ―――.
The lounge door opened again.
And in stepped...
A beauty who seized every man's attention.
The ex-imperial secretary who'd even enchanted royalty.
"What... no way..."
The hot-blooded men prayed she wasn't heading to the empire's worst house.
Alas, their grim hunch hit true.
"Clea...? What brings you here?"
I waved happily, mid-curation with the top smith.
"Figured you'd skip buffs like a slob, Warden."
She approached grumbling like a newlywed wife.
Straightened my clothes before all the men.
"Can't manage without me. Always so defenseless."
"Call it confidence?"
One hand full of elite potions.
Even the Holy See's handsome man stared slack-jawed.
"This feels utterly foul..."