108 — 11 (9)

Louis had been heated by the crackling killing intent. The violent temper he had kept buried until now rose to the surface. Wetting his dry lips with wine, Louis looked at Boarne Aust, who was watching him with an arrogant posture. He immediately opened the status window.

With mana at 80, he still was not a Sword Expert. One had to break past 100 mana to be a Sword Expert. Louis’s mana was 108, so in mana alone he barely met the minimum for a Sword Expert. His swordsmanship, however, was only 6 now, so it lacked refinement.

‘At twenty-five, that level… it was certainly an impressive figure.’

To be cold about it, Boarne Aust was not acting thoughtlessly. He had the confidence to behave that way. It was not only his family’s backing—he also possessed ability he had earned through considerable effort. After sizing up the martial strength of those Louis had brought, he turned optimistic without a shred of doubt.

The mana gap between Anok—especially Mihoff—and the warriors Aust had was overwhelming. Mihoff had 210, and Anok had 180, while one of Aust’s men had only 120. Frankly speaking, Louis could handle that man alone. But because their released mana levels were similar, they only looked roughly even at the moment. Anok and Mihoff had been hiding their true mana. After all, if someone released around 200 mana, the party hall would turn into pandemonium from that alone.

The music cut off, and the air around them went cold. Since watching a fire was the most entertaining spectacle, the crowd watched Louis and Aust with keen interest.

“Shall I pour a glass of wine for the illustrious Duke Louis? Could you come this way?”

Aust snatched a bottle of wine beside him and began glugging it into an empty glass. Instead, Louis sat down in his chair. Seeing that, Aust stiffened his face and stared at Louis. Louis met that gaze—and that mana—head-on. Then the Charisma trait activated. An intimidation effect against a hostile target. Coupled with Louis’s released mana, it shredded Aust’s momentum in a single stroke.

At the same time, the faces of the people around Aust darkened. It had become clear that if they collided, the outcome would be bad. Most of them were rational—unlike the drunken Aust—so their reaction was immediate. Even Aust looked startled for a split second. Louis did not miss that expression.

‘If I pick a fight, I should kill one Sword Expert here.’

House Boarne was no longer something Louis needed to consider. So he could simply smash it and be done. Compared to his older brother, this one was laughable. Louis spoke.

“Boarne Aust, bring it over here. I’m thirsty.”

It was blatant condescension without a hint of honorifics. Ordinarily, when a proxy showed up in place of the person himself, Louis should also have spoken with courtesy. But the moment the other side insulted him, the yardstick became Louis’s to choose. Louis was exploiting that opportunity to the fullest. If anyone asked, he planned to feign ignorance anyway. Besides, the only one who could even ask was the Prince-King—and the Prince-King was surely praying to the gods every night for House Boarne’s dignity to be scraped raw.

“W-What did you say?”

“I told you to bring it over here. Didn’t you say you’d pour a drink? My throat was dry anyway, so this worked out nicely.”

He was visibly furious. And the surrounding warriors—already cowed by Louis’s aura—had their fear dulled as their anger caught fire in sympathy. Boarne Aust made an incredulous face, spat a curse, and strode toward Louis.

When Aust moved, the entire group he led came with him. By numbers, they had the advantage. But as they approached, Anok and Mihoff began releasing additional mana. The closer they got, the thicker the pressure became, mana laced with killing intent, until people began to be swallowed by fear one by one. And it did not take long for that fear to spread to Aust as well.

He sensed something had gone wrong, but the eyes of every noble around him—including Linsia’s—were pinned on him. Even Sword Master Kaban Ferdinand, whom he deeply respected, was watching. Pride alone made it impossible for him to stop here. His original plan had been to bring the wine to Louis and then splash it in his face, but if he splashed it now… his throat itched.

Worse than that, the mana density had risen to a truly alarming level. With even their clothing fluttering, there was no way the wine could stay calm. The wine in the glass began sloshing on its own, and not long after, a sharp crack split the goblet. Gasps spilled out around them. There was still some distance left to Louis—if he splashed it here, it would not even reach.

He had no choice but to take one more step, and the goblet’s crack spread until it shattered completely. Wine ran down from the broken glass along his wrist. Louis snorted at the sight and continued.

“Bring it again.”

“…………..”

Like dry firewood being fed into a brazier, mana mixed with rage flared violently. Even so, what made the situation difficult for him was obvious: Louis’s side held the clear advantage. Rationally, he had to endure it.

But Aust could not restrain his temper. In his entire life, he had never felt anything like this, so anger boiled up to the top of his head, bubbling over. He spat profanity and placed a hand on his sword hilt.

Several warriors beside Aust whispered to him.

“You must endure it. If you cause a disturbance here, you’ll be arrested on the spot.”

“Then you’re telling me to endure this insult?! You impious wretch!”

His voice was loud enough to make the hall ring, and Louis smiled and added,

“Honor, was it. So you even know that word. Then will you duel?”

“A duel—fine! Who will step forward as my swordsman?”

A duel was normally principal versus principal, but this was the Prince-King’s party hall. Among nobles—especially the heads of the greatest houses—direct combat was customarily forbidden. That meant a proxy had to fight.

Three warriors knelt before Louis. It meant they were ready to act as his proxy. Unlike Louis’s side, which gathered without hesitation, Aust’s side hesitated noticeably. Then a man presumed to be a Sword Expert walked out with steady steps and knelt before Aust.

“Grant me the honor of bringing glory to House Boarne.”

“Good.”

Louis opened his status window.

After reading his stats, Louis immediately saw the weakness. His agility was quite low. He was the type to press forward with sheer weight. Against that kind, Mihoff was the perfect match. And Anok, for all his power, had an edge of risk. Only a handful who had fought in the war knew Mihoff’s true might.

“Mihoff.”

“It is an honor.”

The area stirred at once. Anok looked like the one with the strongest presence, so why choose Mihoff—only 170 centimeters tall and somehow looking fragile? But Sword Master Ferdinand recognized Mihoff’s true value instantly.

‘That young man has been hiding his skill. My, my… you keep surprising me, Louis.’

On the neatly trimmed grass, Laineir Mihoff and Dain Mark stood at opposite ends. At a glance, the difference in build was so great it looked like a two-head gap. And the sword Dain Mark received from his attendant was a massive two-handed blade. It was even larger than a typical one-handed greatsword—an arm one would not choose as a main weapon unless strength overflowed. Louis, however, had anticipated even this.

People began chattering about Dain Mark, enough that he could be compared to Mihoff, whose name was not yet known. Dain Mark was a swordsman with tremendous fame even within House Boarne. So the ladies who favored Mihoff seemed to be stomping their feet with anxious unease.

And the one glaring sharply across the line was Louis and Aust. Or rather, Louis was ignoring Aust, while Aust was the one-sidedly staring him down. He even wore a strange smile. He was confident of victory after seeing Mihoff’s build. If the two-meter Anok had served as proxy, things would have gotten terribly tangled—Aust thought Louis had gotten drunk.

Since it was something that occasionally happened among nobles, the party normally continued as a party while the duel ran as a duel. But this was an incident big enough to shake the entire Duchy of Eron again. It was practically a collision between Louis, rising like a comet, and House Boarne, which boasted the strongest established faction.

After a few ceremonial exchanges ended, Mihoff and Dain Mark began creeping forward. It was already, for all intents and purposes, underway. Dain Mark, like his liege Aust, had regarded Anok as his greatest threat, so he had been tense—but when Mihoff stepped out as proxy, he licked his lips. He wanted to crush that annoying face that had been surrounded by ladies the entire time. He raised his two-handed sword vertically and took a formal guard salute.

The crowd erupted with a roar of awe. Their mana began to spill out with a wet, slicing sound. Beyond mere pressure, their emotions were mixing into it. It was to the point that people could practically see mana and mana drawing a boundary like oil and water. Some women unfamiliar with such things even stared with mouths open, thinking it was beautiful. The male nobles who knew the chill of what would follow, however, could not hide their excitement.

And in the blink of an eye, the two-handed sword crashed down. It looked as though a massive beam of light had fallen. Boom! The turf turned to powder in an instant, and wet grass sprayed in all directions. Some ladies covered their eyes and screamed at the first blow. But that strike had completely missed Mihoff. Mihoff smiled with genuine cruelty and flicked her tongue.

“Give me more………. toy.”

It was so quiet only Dain Mark could hear it. With his lid flipped open, Dain Mark spat a curse and began slamming the two-handed sword down again and again. The sight of such a gigantic blade coming down in smooth succession made anyone with even a little interest in swordsmanship gape.

The ground gouged and the forward distance was considerable, yet Mihoff still had not taken a single hit—only evading. A sense of something being wrong crept in, and among the surrounding nobles, whispers began to rise: “Why is Duke Louis’s swordsman only dodging? Is he scared?”

But those who understood blades at all were getting goosebumps. They could tell immediately that he was avoiding the attacks while maintaining a hair-thin margin so tight it stole the breath. The one staring with eyes widest was Ferdinand. The old man’s eyes bulged.

“That… young man, could it be…!”

Even Dain Mark, sweating coldly as he swung like a madman, realized something was off.

‘This is… w-wrong.’

Then Mihoff’s mana spiked abruptly. Dain Mark’s ear was cleanly sliced off as his face went pale. With a soft thud, the ear dropped, and blood flowed in thick streams. And then the mana fell again—down to something manageable.

“What’s wrong..? Surprised?”

Mihoff asked Dain Mark with a smile.