In the holy city, there were areas that were inaccessible to those not invited.
A luxurious and expansive area comparable to the imperial palace was used by less than a hundred people, rendering it quiet and tranquil, with rare encounters of strangers.
In the Fleurence Square, nad after the current Saint, Silveryn and Erzebet were walking through a long corridor, engaging in light conversation.
The high vaulted ceiling allowed the golden hues of the evening sun to penetrate straight through the corridor.
Silveryns hair shimred and waved with each step she took.
As they walked, a sound of wings a whizz passed overhead. The noise was faint, but Silveryn detected it and glanced sideways. Pretending not to notice, she continued to pay discreet attention.
Erzebet, noticing this subtle behavior, comnted,
It seems your heart is still with Eternia.
Silveryn deftly avoided Erzebets gaze.
My disciple has been rather out of touch lately.
Erzebet smiled gently.
Children in their adaptive phase pour all their nerves into their surroundings. That child will be fine.
I didnt expect you to beco so concerned.
When I first took him in, I did not anticipate giving him so much affection.
At that mont, an old man erged from the opposite end of the corridor.
His white hair and beard, robust body, and straight limbs made him look far from old. He greeted Silveryn and Erzebet with a light bow, signaling respect.
It was Calios, the Empires Swordmaster known as the White Lion. He stood still, maintaining a respectful distance of about ten paces.
Heh, I did not expect to et the hero of the north here.
Silveryn and Erzebet also slightly bowed their heads in mutual respect. They had known each other from the battlefields of the north and again when Damian was evaluated for the Masters class.
Erzebet spoke,
Its good to see you again, Swordmaster Calios.
Calios waved his hand dismissively.
Im too old to be burdened with such flattering titles. I plan to pass my position to a successor soon and devote myself to nurturing the next generation. This old body is here rely as an eritus educator of the holy city.
Erzebet responded with a light laugh,
We too are invited in the capacity of educators.
Heh, I suppose so. I do have a matter to discuss, would you mind walking with for a while?
Erzebet readily agreed.
By all ans.
The three walked side by side through the corridor.
Erzebet was the first to ask a casual question.
Do you still teach at the Empire?
Ive stepped back from it now. I once believed that anyone could be brought to the pinnacle, but Ive realized thats an illusion and that even I have my limits.
We understand that sentint.
A great sculptor doesnt create but rather uncovers what is dormant within the rock. Ive co to understand this deeply. The key to a masterpiece is choosing the right stone. No matter how much potential you draw from a pebble, it remains a pebble. Ive wasted ti trying to cultivate pebbles.
Not all of it was in vain.
While he spoke lightly, the truth was sowhat different. So of Calios disciples had made a na for themselves across the continent. He was simply dissatisfied with not having found a successor.
I hope that will be the case. By the way, I hear youve brought a rare gem to the holy city this ti. Have you heard about the heir of Zeldan?
Silveryn responded,
Ive heard rumors that theres an interesting fellow who has caused quite a stir in the Order.
Calios, hands clasped behind his back, continued,
It seems the Order has pinned their hopes on that lad as Zeldans successor. That ans they plan to reorganize the northern front around that boy and the upcoming Saint.
The task of nurturing Zeldans heir was to be entrusted to the Archmages and Swordmasters gathered this ti.
What are your thoughts, Swordmaster Calios?
I have already t the boy at the Orders request and even crossed swords with him. Truly, his talent was enough to turn the Order on its head. His fundantals were flawless, and he had mastered nurous sword styles, adapting them freely. He has never lost a bout against his peers. Among those who have passed through the Royal Academy, he had the most exceptional potential.
Its been a while since youve given such generous praise.
Though I found the Order detestable, I had to acknowledge his skill.
Erzebet nodded slowly, her face contemplative.
How fascinating. Swordmaster Calios, you also oversaw the Masters class examination. Could we hear your honest opinion about Damian, our Eternian prodigy?
Calios sighed heavily before he began,
Hmm, here? You put in a difficult position. I shall speak plainly. The boys basics are embarrassingly lacking. His style is recklessly imprudent. Not to ntion, the way he applies force to his sword wouldnt compare even to a butcher in a slaughterhouse. Overreliance on improvisation is also a concern.
He poured out a scathing assessnt in front of the boys own teacher, yet Erzebet and Silveryn simply smiled, unoffended.
Calios paused before resuming more lightly,
Yet, despite this, he is the most astonishing talent I have ever seen. Ive wielded a sword all my life, and if I cannot recognize a true gem among stones, how could I not be ashad?
***
The knights gathered in a circle, creating an impromptu dueling arena. It looked like a pack of wolves circling a lamb.
The man who had tripped Damian discarded his helt with a swift toss. A scar ran vertically from his cheek to his neck.
Running his finger along the line of the scar, he said,
Ill leave a mark prettier than this on your face. Consider it a badge of honor from your first lesson in life.
Since it was a duel of honor, no responsibility could be claid for scars acquired in the process.
Damian did not rise to the provocation, simply drawing the sword Silveryn had given him and wiping the blade with a handkerchief.
The knights of the guard laughed derisively at Damian. It was a fight he could not win. The duel was heavily tilted from the beginning.
He was but a greenhorn, fresh into his first sester of the first year, while his opponent was a top graduate of the Imperial Royal Academy, a knight of the guard with real combat experience.
No matter how prestigious the academy, there are limits imposed by age and experience. The Empires Royal Academy and Eternia even held exchange matches. The cumulative experience ant the Royal Academy held no particular reverence for Eternia any longer.
No matter how talented, a first-year from Eternia could not compare.
The guards had been awaiting this mont, a young whelp who behaved insolently towards his superiors and even criticized the academy they belonged to. There was no one here in Damians corner. In the world of knights, those who act beyond their station et their demise. This arrogant young man was about to learn a painful lesson.
Both combatants stood three paces apart, just short of their swords reach, looking each other in the eye.
The man with the scar laughed inwardly at Damians stanceit was fundantally flawed.
The scarred man broke the stalemate first, lifting his sword and charging. The duel had begun.
Kraaap!
With a robust shout, he swung his sword in a diagonal line.
Clang!
The swords t.
Damians sword wavered slightly. It didnt take long to gauge skills; swordsn can tell upon contact.
Damian seed slightly overpowered.
It brings back mories. I made your ancestor crawl on the ground in the exchange matches.
Bow and crawl under my legs, and Ill forgive you.
Damian simply t the sword with a deadly gaze, not responding verbally.
The scarred man pressed his sword hard, pushing Damian back without much resistance.
Without giving Damian a chance to steady himself, the man charged again.
Die!
Ching! Ching!
Damian blocked each powerful strike reflexively. Although his reflexes were decent, his constant defense had him moving backward step by step.
Do the professors of Eternia only teach their students to retreat?
Damian started to be pushed back to the limit line where the knights stood.
The onlookers jeered and mocked his predicant.
The outco seed decided without any further twists.
The man with the scar swung his sword more wildly with each strike.
Ching! Ching!
Sparks flew as the swords clashed with great force.
Damian was at a distinct disadvantage, yet not a single decisive blow had landed.
The man with the scar gritted his teeth.
He had cornered Damian, yet the boy parried each attack with what seed like baseless movents, refusing to be pushed past the limit line.
The other knights watching began to stiffen in their expressions.
Die, die!
The scarred man put all his might into each stroke, increasing the speed of his swings, reducing the interval between clashes, yet not a scratch was on Damian.
As the opponent, driven to the edge, abandoned all notion of defense and began hacking away indiscriminately,
Ching! Ching! Ching!
Damian, like a tightrope walker on the edge, defended against every blow that would have left him diced if landed.
It was a performance akin to acrobatics.
As each attack either cut the air or was deflected, the color drained from the mans face.
The tide of the duel began to shift. Damian seed to grow accustod to the attack pattern.
It was no longer a one-sided disadvantage.
And the crowd, realizing the duel was veering off, froze in place.
Damian ducked beneath a descending blow and kicked sharply at the mans solar plexus.
Hurk!
The man spat out saliva, bending over and stumbling backward.
The knights watching wore faces of disbelief at the scene.
That kick was the first effective strike of the duel.
Now Damian advanced.
The man, clutching his midsection, swung his sword in a wide arc as he gasped.
Huuaap!
Only his weak cry echoed in the air.
As the stomach pain eased, the man lunged forward to land a blow.
Damian, as if anticipating it, parried the attack with one-handed ease, letting the sword slide off. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed his scabbard and swung it like a club.
Crack!
The scabbard struck the mans wrist with precision.
Uaaak!
The sword fell to the ground, and the man rolled, clutching his wrist.
The onlookers mouths were agape.
Damian looked down at the man rolling on the ground, sheathed his sword, and dusted off his hands.
In a real battle, that mans wrist would have been severed. The outco was as good as decided.
Without further ado, Damian turned to leave the dueling circle.
Then the man with the scar, crawling to retrieve his dropped sword, shouted,
Its not over, you bastard.
Before the words were fully out, sothing flashed and whistled through the air beside him.
Clang!
The sword Damian was holding flew like an arrow, embedding itself into the helt lying on the ground.
The blade had pierced right through the face of the helt.
The man stood up and then froze, staring at the helt in disbelief, not comprehending how it happened.
Damian, who had been about to leave, turned deliberately back into the dueling ring.
Youll regret those words.
***
A soldier clanked in his armor as he rushed to Geralds tent.
Ger-Gerald, you might want to see whats happening at the first division knights camp.
Gerald, writing a dispatch for the Duchy, responded casually,
Whats the matter?
The knights are having a dispute and theyve started a duel.
Is that so unusual?
When days of calm stretch on, knights keep their combat senses sharp with mock battles. Duels were a common practice. It wasnt strange at all.
Moreover, even if there was so issue, it should have been resolved by the first divisions commander; it wasnt sothing that needed to involve Gerald. He was in a position to simply receive reports afterward.
Its that the disciple of the Archmage is dueling with one of the knights.
Gerald paused from his work, now showing interest.
What? Wheres the first division commander?
Nielrin, the captain of the guard, went with Lady Vivi on her walk.
Gerald bit his lip. This was a significant misfortune for Damian. Swordsn, when banded together, beco like a pack of wolves. If one does not benefit the group or tends to blur the rules, they are ostracized and tornted for sport.
Damian seed to have been completely marked as an outcast by that wolf pack. Gerald had to step in to diate the situation, not for the guard but for Damians sake.
He stood abruptly, donning his coat.
Lead to where the duel is taking place, now.
Following a soldiers lead, Gerald headed to the first divisions camp. The neatly aligned tents and bubbling pots were deserted. In a clearing, a group of knights gathered in disarray. Thats where the duel was.
But the usually noisy scene was eerily quiet. No jeers or mockery could be heard.
Only dull thuds echoed in the silence.
Thump, thump, thump.
Whats going on here? Out of the way!
Gerald barked, and the knights quickly parted ways.
Like the curtain falling off a stage, the site of the duel was revealed.
At its center, a man was pumling soone beneath him with lethal punches. Next to him lay a helt skewered by a sword, blood scattered on the ground and a bloodied fist.
Geralds eyes narrowed as he recognized the man on top. It wasnt a mistake. It was Damian, exerting unilateral violence against a knight of the guard.
As Gerald stood behind him, Damian seed to sense his presence and froze his fist mid-air. Without turning to look, he knew who it was.
Damian dismounted and slowly stood up, offering a gentlemanly greeting to Gerald, the bloodied state of his body making the gesture grotesque.
You will have to provide with a satisfactory explanation for this incident.
I was challenged to a duel by a knight of the guard and fought to uphold my honor, as you can see, with all these n as witnesses.
Gerald turned to the knights who had watched,
A duel, is it? Was there no foul play or deception?
No one answered. If it had been re brawling, the knights comrades would not have stood idly by. That ant Damian had overpowered the knight purely on skill, and quite resoundingly so.
A student who had just begun his first sester of the first year at Eternia.
It was a sight too unbelievable to trust ones eyes.
The knights present were likewise petrified, shocked beyond words by the actions of a re boy. Damian t Geralds gaze, the lingering ferocity in his eyes more beastly than human.
Damian spoke,
Due to this duel, there will be a gap in the guard. Youll need to find a more suitable replacent to bolster the ranks.
His tone was serious, but there was a touch of mockery, as if reminding Gerald of his previous requests to join the guard.
Gerald let Damians subtle provocation slide.
I will gather more concrete testimonies and decide the punishnt for the two who caused this disturbance. Everyone disperse imdiately, and have that fellow carried off on a stretcher for treatnt.
The situation was swiftly resolved. Gerald turned and left the scene.
His face remained stern as he walked away, but upon entering his tent, a smile of relief slowly erged.
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