Episode 19

The magic of one’s first duel lies in our ignorance that it will ever end.
–Benjamin Disraeli¹

“Aaah!”

Rather than enveloping his blade in Sword aura, he applied the profound principle of 1322.77-Pound Weight directly to the sword itself, to flatten the enemy.
But the masked woman folded the elongated iron fan she was holding and met the sword attack head-on.

-Clang!

With just the minimal internal energy needed to precisely block the sword, she closed the distance with the Highlander and struck his chin with an invisible speed.

-Thud!

The sword hilt slipped powerlessly from the kneeling man’s hand.

There was a commotion in the VIP seats, but because the massive figure of the Northern End Clan warrior blocked the woman’s movements, most did not witness the moment of the decisive blow.
Perhaps she calculated the optimal position from the start to avoid revealing her true skills.

“The prodigy of the McMahan family losing in the first round…?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“……”

Looking up at the second floor, among the group gathered in the VIP seats, there were two people displaying peculiar behavior.

The first was a woman exchanging glances with the lady who had calmly finished the duel.
Even though she seemed less skilled than other chaperones, she was clearly communicating with the suspicious woman through sound transmission.

The second was an elderly man with white hair, who incinerated a piece of paper with Buddha Fire and left his seat.

Seeing the paper fragment mixed with ashes falling to the first floor, I hurriedly moved.

“Watson. Needle.”
“Hmm?”

Before Watson, who was next to me, could properly respond, I stealthily snatched a long needle hidden in the cushion at her waist and threw it with energy.

-Ting!

The needle that flew in a straight line pierced through the falling piece of paper and embedded itself like a nail into the large mirror occupying the ballroom wall.
The intense gust that arose during the process extinguished the flame that was burning the paper.
Everything was as calculated.

“What are you planning to do with the needle?”
“It seems I ate lunch too quickly and got indigestion.”
“That’s serious.”

Watson, noticing the reduced number of needles, tilted her head but then skillfully checked my pulse and pricked the ten vital points² with a slender needle.

“You seem fine, but just in case…”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“A-any doctor should be able to help with this much!”

When I thanked her, Watson suddenly turned her head and let go of my hand.

“If your indigestion is better, let’s find the next opponent.”
“I’ve already decided, how about you?”

Neither the guests in the ballroom, the people in the VIP seats, nor even Watson realized what I had just done.
I was very curious about what was written there, but going to retrieve the burnt piece of paper might draw unnecessary attention, so I decided to delay it for a while.

While I was thinking that, Watson cautiously spoke up.

“I was about to ask for your advice because the man who finished the duel in Ring 7 has been staring at me since a while ago, and I have a bad feeling about it.”

As soon as Watson finished speaking, I turned my head to Ring 7 and realized that someone was watching us with a sticky, sinister gaze.

It was a look as if he was tasting with his eyes, licking the entire body with his tongue.
There stood a man, over 7 feet tall, even larger than the Highlander of the Northern End Clan who had become one with the wall earlier.

“…Well, this is unexpected.”

The mask and silhouette of the man were unfamiliar, but upon seeing his ears, a sigh escaped my lips involuntarily.

His skills were at least between First-class and Peak realm.
His well-trained body exuded confidence reminiscent of a raptor.
He was searching for prey and had set his sights on Watson as the next target.
However, the aura emanating from his eyes behind the mask was not the usual eagerness or combativeness seen in debutantes.

The reason he participated in the Debutanted Ball was probably—

“It seems I’ve caught the eye of a bothersome fellow.”
“…Do you know him?”
“No. But just by looking at those ears, I can gather the information I need.”

Even from this distance, I could recognize him.

His distinctive massive build.
The size of his earlobes and auricles, other features, and the shape of the cartilage.
The color of his eyes and his curly hair.
In addition to these, numerous clues revealed his identity to me.

Based on anatomical analysis, I deduced that I had seen this man’s father before.
And, to my recollection, his father was an extremely dangerous individual.

“…Milady.”

The man descended from the stage and, using advanced lightness skill, swiftly approached Watson.

“Excuse my intrusion, but I would like to witness that wondrous martial art you displayed earlier once more.”
“…Pardon?”

Watson’s voice flipped in surprise.

“May I ask for your guidance?”

Brazenly, he bowed to Watson, presenting a Duel Card and pen.

“The lady is ill at ease, so I must ask you to step away.”

I immediately intervened between him and Watson.

I still vividly remember.
Years ago, the day my master took me to the Epsom Derby to show me the races.

There, a man presumed to be the father of that fellow, unable to control his anger when his horse lost, unleashed a palm technique and killed the racehorse in one blow.

Since then, I’ve often heard unsavory rumors about that family.
Attending the Debutante Ball alone, he must be the eldest of the two younger-generation brothers. The one with the worse reputation, if the rumors are to be believed.

“My partner, as you can see, hasn’t recovered from an injury to her leg.”

I nearly cursed at the absurdity.
Judging by the amount of internal energy he could use, he seemed to have more than I did, as I could only handle 50% of my energy center’s internal energy.
What could such a person possibly seek to learn from Watson?

The high-quality cutlass at his waist makes it obvious—he is Navy. And not just any sailor, but a scion of a family with generations of military service in their veins.

The reason he took notice of Watson was clear.

Over the past few days, Watson’s Army finger technique, refined under my guidance, had become much more precise and efficient in discharging energy.
The fellow became interested when he saw the unexpected power of the Army’s Drill, which he had previously disregarded, and as a result, he seemed to be drawn to Watson.

“Holmes…”

Watson waved her hand as if troubled and sought help from me, and I gave her a small reassuring smile.

The purposes of those participating in the Debutante Ball varied.

Some sought the favor of The Royal Combat Society’s members, hoping for an invitation to the Buckingham Ball.
Others aimed to exchange techniques with young martial artists from different noble houses, deepening their own mastery.
And lastly, there were those in search of a suitable match for marriage.

A quarter of the martial artists present here were eagerly searching for a suitable gentleman or lady to take as a spouse.
It was said that there were particularly many among those types who would recklessly charge forward if they desired something.

Even with Watson’s partner standing beside her, this fellow was blatantly attempting to approach, proving he was indeed one of that sort.
Having confirmed that we didn’t have a chaperone, he must have assumed that we couldn’t refuse a noble’s duel request.

However, such a minor farce was well within the expected range.

“If the young master is seeking a duel partner, might I suggest finding a lady whose martial prowess matches his own?”
“Mind your words. I’m asking the lady, not you.”

I expected that response.

An especially arrogant and savage type among the nobility. He must take after his father.
If this fellow’s family is the one I’m thinking of, their hereditary title isn’t particularly high.
Yet, he can act so rudely because he’s certain we aren’t nobility, and because martial arts in London grant more authority than social status.
This is all due to the implicit rule that prohibits resolving grudges formed at masquerade balls outside.

“Young master, I’m sorry, but…”

Watson, having relaxed, opened her mouth, resisting the pressure the fellow exuded.

“I must decline as we have a prior engagement.”

A composed and respectful response, delivered with understated contempt.

“……”

The fellow was pondering how to react.
He seemed to have realized what mistake he had made.

Even after the first duel where nicknames must be concealed, not introducing oneself and abruptly asking to join the next piece is a serious breach of etiquette.

In the Debutante Ball, a lady’s refusal is absolute.
Seeing the whispers around, it was easy to predict that unpleasant rumors about this person would soon spread.
The only fortunate thing for him was that his real name had not yet been revealed.

“…You really dared to embarrass me.”

He politely greeted Watson and then approached me, whispering in a murderous voice.

“I will settle this with a duel. If you forfeit or run away, I will unmask you.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”

I was only too happy, as I had planned to trample him if he challenged me to a duel.
Just because he had slightly more internal energy than me didn’t mean he was unbeatable.
Of course, a match between men would only occur after all the women had been eliminated.

“Run away? Why should I be afraid of someone who was lucky enough to crawl from a pirate’s status to a baron’s bloodline? Besides, aren’t you weaker than me?”
“…?!”

Taking advantage of his blatant agitation, I continued speaking.

“You must be the son of Sir Francis Jacob Drake. Buckland Abbey is your family estate, is it not? To commit such discourtesy in a place like this and even resort to threats—how very bold of you.”
“How did you…?”
“It was rather difficult to feign ignorance when you never attempted to conceal it in the first place. A freshly tailored naval uniform, a fine cutlass at your side, and a handful of hereditary traits—those alone were enough to deduce your identity. And seeing that you’ve inherited your esteemed father’s temperament as well, I suppose blood truly does tell.”
“……”

Drake couldn’t retort a single word.
To acknowledge my words would be to admit he had disgraced his family name. To deny them, however, would make him a disloyal son once the attendees’ list was made public, a man who disavowed his own lineage for the sake of his personal pride.
Either way, there was no escaping unscathed.

Then, shall I deliver a decisive blow at this point?

“I heard that your younger brother, who is two years apart, has achieved remarkable martial skills. It seems more interesting to compete with your brother than with you. Now that I think about it, you’re the only one in military attire; where is your brother?”
“That guy is—”
“Could it be that you pulled some strings because you didn’t want to be overshadowed by your brother?”

My voice, infused with internal energy, echoed through the ballroom.

All eyes were on us, but the eldest son of the Drake family, who was struck to the core, could only tremble with rage and was unable to respond.

Not only did he foolishly propose a duel to a mere gentry and get rejected, but he also impulsively made a foolish remark, further exposing his father and family’s name.
He faced a setback as soon as he stepped into the Murim world.
Unless he wins the Debutante Ball, he won’t be able to recover from such disgrace.

On the second-floor VIP seats, a chaperone dressed similarly to him wore a blatantly embarrassed expression.
He must be sending sound transmissions at typewriter speed by now.

I can roughly imagine the content.
That everything will be resolved if he wins the duel, so he must not fall for any more provocations and show an ugly side.
He’s probably saying something like that.

“…I got carried away and was rude. Please understand with a generous heart.”
“I’ll let it slide with my broad-mindedness just for today. Well then, I wish you success.”

As expected, he bit his lip and offered an insincere apology.
Watching him bow and turn away gave me a sense of relief.

“It’s resolved, Watson. Now let’s find an easier opponent.”
“…He seemed quite formidable. Is it okay to provoke him like that?”
“Didn’t you say I was a Peak realm master? A mere rookie stuck in the first tier is no trouble for me.”
“If that’s the case, then there’s no problem.”

It seems that refining my techniques in the Earth Element style over the past few days has paid off. Watson trusted me more than during the last incident with the Dead Man.

“I’ll choose your opponent for you. The problem is who I should fight…”

There was no need to go through the hassle of searching.
The person I wanted to meet was already standing right next to me.

“The chivalry and wisdom you demonstrated were truly admirable.”

Turning my head, I saw the woman who had effortlessly defeated the master swordsman of the Northern End Clan looking up at me with a composed demeanor.