11 (10)

Louis realized that Mihoff’s bad habit had kicked in again. At heart, she was a rather cruel one. If he had not kept her restrained until now—or rather, if she had been born to a better pedigree and held a ruler’s position… Ah, come to think of it, she had been a woman. Louis himself did not care—he believed in equality—but reality here was quite harsh toward women. If Louis had not maintained strict control over his territory, some of his appointments might have caused major trouble.

In any case, the crowd’s reaction was unfolding exactly as he wanted. They could not shut their mouths. The development was shocking. A nameless swordsman who had once lost in war was crushing a famed swordsman—one from House Boarne, no less. The physical difference was extreme. Even the difference in weapon size looked like it was fourfold. One wrong clash, and a blade could snap in two and kill someone on the spot.

Yet the refinement of technique—and the amount of mana—were on an entirely different plane. Because she adjusted her mana so ghostlike precisely, only a very small handful could even recognize the disparity. That was why what was happening looked as dramatic as possible. Watching Mihoff, Louis thought she was letting her mischievous side run wild. He could allow some of it, but it could not go too far.

‘I should tell her to finish it, depending on how things look.’

In the meantime, another scream burst out nearby. The opposing swordsman was clutching beneath his chest. For an ordinary person, that alone would have made fighting impossible, but they were mana users who could wield mana, and they were past the beginner threshold. So an injury of this degree did not render him unable to fight.

Louis looked at Boarne Aust, who was watching the situation with the color drained from his face, his expression vacant. If this was his first time facing such a predicament, he was on the verge of panic beyond mere confusion. It would be good for him to get used to it… There was always someone who flew above the one who ran. Your background and ability were not bad. But the problem was that your opponent was me.

Then another deep scream tore out—this time from the man himself. His left wrist had been cleanly severed. Hm, she cut the left hand on purpose. It was about time to put reins on Mihoff. In the darkness, Mihoff’s grin was visible. She urged him to get up quickly. Even if he died, he had to die with honor. Dain Mark, with the face of someone who had seen a demon, bit his lower lip and raised the two-handed sword with one hand, the motion sticky and awkward.

He had to use both hands to wield that weapon properly, but after being crippled like this, the weapon itself had become a handicap. It was an excellent tool for crushing an enemy—yet when he was the one being crushed, its efficiency plummeted. Louis swept his gaze across the surroundings. The male nobles did not look on with pity at all, as if they had suffered plenty of bullying from House Boarne—or from Aust. If anything, they were thrilled, flushed with excitement.

Even the female nobles who had been covering their eyes only moments ago were now openly, quietly cheering Mihoff on. For House Boarne, the situation was a comprehensive disaster.

‘Ah. Any further, and it’ll get dirty.’

Louis sent mana into his voice and spoke to Mihoff.

“Laineir Mihoff. Stop playing around.”

The surrounding noise was not merely a murmur—it was as loud as a marketplace, so a normal voice would not have carried. But for Louis, who had raised his mana to 108, that did not apply. His voice punched through the air, piercing not only the two in the center but each noble’s ears clearly. And the gaze that had been fixed on the two at the center now turned to Louis all at once.

The same was true for the two still in the middle of the fight.

“What the—? So you matched his level on purpose until now?”

“Is that even possible?”

“He’s kept an incredible swordsman. How was someone like that still unknown?”

“Why else? Didn’t he lose to Duke Louis in the one war where he should’ve made his name?”

“Just how incredible was that tactic… that he could take a man like that prisoner without injury and then win him over?”

And that was the end of it. Even in the middle of battle, Laineir Mihoff bowed to Louis with impeccable politeness, then turned back—and released all of her mana. The shockwave of that sudden mana surge was strong enough to jolt even ordinary nobles who had never trained mana. Had she grown again in the meantime? It felt distinctly different from the battlefield.

Dain Mark was sweating so hard it was pitiable. It was not simply that death was near. If he had known the gap was this large, he never would have stepped forward as a proxy swordsman. That regret was plastered all over his face. As Mihoff walked toward him slowly, he screamed in terror. No matter how trained someone was, when that fate was about to become their own, the moment was not easily endured.

Louis watched Mihoff walk toward Dain Mark like that. Dain Mark swung the two-handed sword at Mihoff like a madman. For him to whirl it one-handed like a windmill, Louis thought, his strength was an innate gift worth noting. But only for a moment—then the same strange situation as before unfolded.

The blade tore through empty air, yet Mihoff was nowhere caught within it. Finally, as if realizing it would not work, he widened the distance and then hurled the two-handed sword. Its direction was oddly toward Louis. Screams erupted around them. But the sword was bounced away in midair—Louis had knocked it upward with a drawn blade. The two-handed sword spun and then planted itself vertically into the ground in front of Louis. Almost at the same time, Mihoff severed Dain Mark’s head.

Silence.

Louis broke it.

“How dull. If you had pride, you wouldn’t retreat here—you’d show the magnanimity to accept another proxy swordsman.”

The situation had ended, but Louis had no intention of ending it like this. He had already erased one Sword Expert, so he could erase another. In war, the number of Sword Experts mattered immensely. If they were going to become enemies anyway, it was better to choke off even one more life here.

Louis scanned the swordsmen Aust could send next via the status window. None had higher mana than the Dain Mark who had just died. If they came out, they would die one after another.

Boarne Aust stared at Dain Mark’s head rolling on the ground, his face twisted as if he might seize up at any second, without saying a word. The renewed silence did not last long. The crowd began to stir, and Aust was being crushed under immense pressure. In the capital, with all nobles watching, he was being utterly humiliated. If it were only his personal honor, the shock would be smaller—but he was here as acting marquis for House Boarne.

“A… a proxy…… I need a proxy to wash away the clan’s shame.”

But the response was cold. It was shameful. At last, Aust threw a fit.

“Is there no proxy?! If you know honor, step forward now before I name you!”

Step forward and you died. The gap in strength was too severe. This was not war. In a one-on-one, a mana gap that large meant death.

“Roven!!! You bastard. Aren’t you the one who must step forward!”

His name was called, and a warrior—perhaps biting his lip—came forward in front of Aust with great difficulty.

“I will speak honestly. The gap is too great. Please do not throw me away here.”

Something unbearably humiliating had happened. Boarne Aust’s face crumpled completely. He had reached the brink. Either he lost two Sword Experts in proxy duels, or he suffered even greater disgrace. At this level of insult, House Boarne could even start a war against House Pontina.

Aust kicked the swordsman kneeling before him. The man tumbled messily. Aust drew his sword and spoke to Louis. His drunkenness had completely vanished. If anything, excessive rational calculation was ordering him that retreating here would be disastrous. As if a good idea had occurred to him, he spoke immediately.

“Forget the proxy swordsmen. I, Boarne Aust, formally demand a duel with Duke Louis.”

It had erupted. At this point, it was a major incident. Louis weighed Aust’s abilities.

‘Highest stat: Strength 10. Mana: 80. Swordsmanship: only 6.’

Every number was lower than Louis’s.

“I accept the duel—on one condition. Even if you die, House Boarne will not start a war. One more thing… You die by my hand.”

Louis formed that familiar pressure. A Charisma trait stacked atop 108 mana. In sheer force, he even surpassed Mihoff. It was lethally powerful. As Louis stepped forward, the other nobles backed away, and Boarne Aust was no exception. Without realizing it, he took a step back. He muttered “No way…” over and over. He had misjudged Louis’s strength by a wide margin. If this duel was accepted as-is, he would die like a dog—the thought hit him as a psychological shock.

Kaban Ferdinand shook his head repeatedly.

‘He surpassed Pontina Fred? No—this must be stopped. Promises are always broken. If Aust dies here, a civil war on a much larger scale may erupt.’

The only person who could break this murderous atmosphere here was Kaban Ferdinand. A Sword Master, an old swordsman respected by all. And as someone who always placed the duchy’s stability first, he stepped in front of Aust, who was on the verge of fainting.

“Please hold, Duke Louis. Even for you, waging wars one after another will be too much.”

“Too much? Hah. And I’m not asking Lord Kaban. Aust—what will it be? Speak.”

Cornered, Aust finally found his breathing again thanks to Kaban Ferdinand’s mana. The scene was shocking enough that it was visible on every noble’s face.

“I… I admit defeat. If you accept my withdrawal, I would be grateful, Duke Louis.”

The trembling voice carried as it was, and Louis nodded briefly.

“Good.”

Then the next announcement blew this atmosphere away in one stroke.

“The Prince-King is entering. Please observe proper decorum, all.”

They were on the road back to the territory. Most of the soldiers, including Louis, were highly confident. The incident had been so public that it took less than a day to spread. The fact that House Pontina had pressed down House Boarne was enough to cause a new shift in power.

During the remainder of the party, Louis formed alliances with five houses—excluding the two houses involved. At first, only three houses had shown favor to Louis, but thanks to the incident Louis created, they severed their existing alliance and chose Louis instead of House Boarne.

Naturally, Louis accepted their alliances without hesitation. That five successful houses were currying favor with Louis was, without question, something unprecedented in the long history of House Pontina. He did not express anything directly to the Prince-King, but by deciding to leave before the party had even fully ended, he conveyed his intent indirectly.

“Mihoff.”

“Yes, Duke.”

“You were excellent.”

“…………I do not deserve it.”

Mihoff’s face reddened, but no one saw it.