277. Engagent - Victory and Defeat
“An oracle?”
Baron Albacete repeated, eyeing his junior, Noel, who had returned after over a decade to spout strange things. He continued, looking skeptically at Noel.
“So, you’re telling that the reason I beca a Sword Master and have been having these odd feelings is because of a divine command?”
“Yes.”
“Hah, this is ridiculous...”
The baron crossed his arms and leaned back.
When he crossed his legs, his silk outfit stretched tight, practically screaming, “It’s going to burst! I’m going to burst!” It was a nonsensical claim. However, Arpen grinned, baring his teeth.
“Well, that’s a rather appealing idea. So, I’m so sort of divine ssenger? Hahaha! I suppose it makes sense. If a holy mission wasn’t given to a great warrior like , it wouldn’t make any sense.”
“......”
A self-absorbed type, isn’t he...
Ray was at a loss for words. His father, Noel, gave his son a side-eye as if to say, “See?”
Ray had no intention of revealing the truth to Baron Albacete. Other than his father, who in the world would believe him? Yet Arpen, drunk on his own self-importance, nodded to himself.
What he said next was even more absurd. The baron ran a hand through his hair as he asked,
“I’ve always been quite impressive, haven’t I? I was just fifteen when I first hunted a monster with my hotown buddy, Droxa. But do you think I was thrilled when I took down that monster?”
“...”
It wasn’t a question that required an answer. As if to say there was no way he’d be happy about sothing so trivial, the baron crossed his arms in an X shape. Then he spread them wide in a surprisingly energetic gesture.
“Not at all! The Great Warrior’s Trial? Ha! That was no trial for . It was so easy that I was disappointed. So, I went in search of another trial. Do you know what that was?”
“...”
“Droxa suggested we visit the ‘Ice Island.’ On the day when the Blue Moon rises, monsters break through the frozen sea in hordes, he said... But since hunting monsters didn’t feel like a real trial, I wanted to achieve sothing even more difficult. And that was...”
“You wanted to beco a knight and a noble. I apologize, Senior, but I’ve heard that story many tis.”
Noel interjected appropriately, but it wasn’t enough to stop Arpen’s self-praise.
“Hold on. This is where it gets really interesting. There’s a young man here eager to hear about my great achievents, isn’t there? Ahem! Wait a mont... Where was I?”
“You were telling us that you beca a knight after placing in the Maunin-Reti Tournant, Senior. You also ntioned that your friend Droxa placed but did not beco a knight. He returned to your hotown, while you stayed in the capital.”
“Oh, right. That’s how it went. I beca a knight after placing in the tournant, but, as Noel here wouldn’t know, I faced a lot of discrimination. They said a warrior who wields an axe couldn’t be a knight, that if I wasn’t going to use a sword, I should at least switch to a spear... They had a lot to say! Ha! I was so annoyed that I refused to switChapter Even the guys in the Third Order still have their complaints, but they should know I’m ready to crush them if they step out of line.”
“Wait, but isn’t it true that you use a greatsword now? Did I misunderstand sothing?”
Ray’s question caught Noel off guard, making him sigh softly. Arpen smiled brightly.
He had deliberately left out the details of how he ended up participating in the Maunin-Reti Tournant...
In fact, Ray’s question was precisely what Baron Albacete wanted to hear most. The baron was notorious for carrying his greatsword openly, without a scabbard, as if waiting for soone to ask. Noel, resigned to a long story, poured himself a drink and leaned back on the sofa, ready to hear the tale he’d already endured over twenty tis.
“That’s a great question. There was a reason I switched from an axe to a greatsword! Now, where would be the best place to start for a promising young Sword Master like you... Ah, yes, it was during the Nine Days War. As everyone knows, I fought on the side of the Kingdom of Astin, leading them to victory in that grueling civil war. Your father stayed in the capital and made his mark, but I fought all across the Kingdom of Aslan. It would have been fun if you had joined , Noel, but this friend stayed behind because he had a family. Anyway, I traveled far and wide, fighting battles on behalf of allied noble families. If it weren’t for , they wouldn’t have won. Not to brag, but it’s true.”
By the ti Ray realized his mistake, it was too late. Arpen had shifted his attention away from his disinterested junior, Noel, and focused on Ray. The baron’s massive figure squird on the sofa, and his tales of valor continued without end.
He recounted defeating the armies of many prominent families, including the then-powerful Count Pamphili. He spoke of convincing the reluctant native tribes to join his side and persuading the mages at the neutral Kamitz Tower to support his cause...
Yawn—
When was he going to explain why he switched to a greatsword? The baron wielded a peculiar storytelling style, occasionally reminding his audience, “At that ti, I was still using an axe,” as if to keep the initial question in mind, making it difficult to interrupt.
Noel was dozing off, and Ray’s mind was going numb by the ti the topic finally reappeared. Arpen proudly declared,
“...So, as I was devising the plan to defeat them all, it dawned on —I was now a Sword Master. As you know, when you beco a Sword Master, your weapon feels like an extension of yourself. Hah. Now, all that was left was to crush the enemy. The casualties had been high, so I spread the news that I had beco a Sword Master, thinking the enemy would surrender... But what do you know? They had their own Sword Master. Count Jacob Mordred, of all people... Damn it, now it’s even.”
“Um... Sir Baron. So the reason you switched to a greatsword... No, more importantly, the oracle...”
At this point, Ray no longer cared why Arpen had switched from an axe to a greatsword. He just wanted him to stop rambling and get to the point, but the baron waved him off.
“Hold on. We’re almost there. Now that the enemy had a Sword Master, too, I knew the war would drag on. And then, sothing big happened. Pablo and Petra de Klaus... They each killed their father and declared they would claim the throne. What? Two kings for one country? It turned out they planned to split the kingdom and rule separately. Now, how would you have felt if you were in my position?”
“...I’m not sure.”
Ray answered flatly. No matter what he said, the baron would just keep talking.
“Think about it! Wouldn’t you be outraged? I had been fighting for years! Three whole years!”
“...I see. That must have been hard to accept.”
“Exactly! And to suggest a peace treaty under those circumstances? I couldn’t accept it. So, I decided to settle things once and for all. I sent a letter to Count Mordred, proposing that we fight it out between ourselves to prevent the kingdom from splitting. I suggested that if one of us were to fall, the peace negotiations in the capital would be nullified.”
...What?
Ray’s previously disinterested eyes suddenly sparkled. Arpen grinned, as if this was exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Jacob accepted. We t, each bringing a single witness to serve as a referee. Let tell you... it was the duel of the century.”
It was clear that everything Arpen had been rambling about was leading up to this. Ray realized he’d been sucked into the baron’s story, but he couldn’t help but listen.
Baron Arpen Albacete, delighted with Ray’s engagent, began to recount the final showdown.
“Are you Count Jacob Mordred? You’re smaller than I expected.”
This was about a decade ago, when Arpen was in his early thirties.
At the ti, Arpen wasn’t a baron, so he should have used honorifics when addressing Jacob, a noble, even if he was an enemy. But Arpen didn’t care. He provoked Jacob by comnting on his small stature.
Count Jacob Mordred replied in a low, slightly exasperated tone.
“We’re not strangers...”
“Is that so? You’re a stranger to .”
“...We t in the capital. At a gathering five years ago. You asked why I, the heir of the Mordred family, had chosen to beco a royal guard.”
“Did I? Why did you beco a royal guard, then?”
“...Forget it. I thought we might be able to understand each other, but clearly, that was a foolish hope.”
“What’s this? Are you trying to make feel guilty to gain a psychological edge? Typical of soone who looks sneaky.”
Ha!
Jacob scoffed.
He couldn’t help it—Count Jacob Mordred was a strikingly handso man.
He had the chiseled jawline and sharp nose that had been passed down through the Mordred family for generations, complented by his own charming lips. In his youth, he was often called a beautiful boy, and as an adult, he captivated many noblewon, despite the declining fortunes of the Mordred family.
To tell soone like him that he looked sneaky...
It wasn’t sothing that Arpen, with his almost nonexistent eyelids, rugged face, and nacing appearance, had any right to say. He hadn’t even held a woman’s hand, let alone gotten married.
It wasn’t because there was sothing wrong with Arpen. He simply looked terrifying... the kind of appearance that could scare soone stiff even in broad daylight. If he had stayed with his Albacete tribe in his hotown, it might have been different, but in the capital, Barnaul, finding a bride was out of the question.
The young but still unmarried Arpen Albacete spoke with a hint of envy.
“Is that right? Then there’s nothing left to say. Let’s fight. As we agreed in our letters, it’s a duel to the death.”
“...Fine. It’s just what I wanted.”
A duel against a Sword Master.
Even though he was also a Sword Master, the thought of facing such a formidable opponent filled him with excitent. Arpen’s dual axes flared up in a brilliant blue fla.
The sa was true for Jacob Mordred’s “Swordbreaker.” Its jagged blade shone with a white gleam, and the two great Sword Masters born of the Nine Days War clashed.
But...
“Wahahaha! Is this all you’ve got? Just this? Not all Sword Masters are the sa, huh!”
A blue axe strike that cleaved the earth. The axe blade, wrapped in blue aura, left wide afterimages as it pushed the Count back.
Arpen’s physical prowess was overwhelming. Each ti his rotund belly swung, it triggered shockwaves that sent the smaller Count Mordred flying. Moreover, Arpen wasn’t just relying on brute strength.
“Ugh!”
“Hahaha! How’s that? Never seen anything like it, huh? You knights, always talking down on axes, huh?”
Arpen wielded his one-ter-long axe with exceptional skill.
He would grip the axe handle short for quick chops, or sotis grab the axe’s jaw to deliver unexpected strikes with the handle. The axe head moved up and down, in and out, as if it were an extension of his body.
This was the unique axe technique Arpen honed while enduring the scorn of joining the Third Order of knights, where many mocked the idea of a knight wielding an axe.
However, the axe had a fatal flaw...
“This is...”
“Haha. I thought I was the only one who lost out when I beca a Sword Master, but it seems you did too.”
The axe’s surface area was too large.
Unlike a sword, the aura couldn’t be tightly concentrated, and it dispersed across the axe head, leading to excessive consumption and weakened strikes. Count Jacob Mordred’s “Weapon Destruction Technique” was gradually taking its toll.
“...Trying to break soone’s weapon? And you call yourself a knight?”
“I’d rather not hear that from a warrior who wields an axe. This is my victory!”
Jacob aid to shatter Arpen’s already cracked axe with a downward strike of his sword. Arpen Albacete gritted his teeth, furious.
“What’s wrong with an axe, huh?! You bastard! Die!!”
Arpen swung his axe with all his might.
Just as Jacob exclaid, “What?!” in surprise, the sword and axe collided with a loud clang! The axe head exploded into pieces. Jacob was hit by the flying fragnts and fell.
“Aaaargh! Damn it...”
“What the hell? Hahaha!”
Arpen had thought he was dood without his axe, but the Count’s state was even worse. Jacob’s lower jaw was partially shattered from being struck by the axe fragnts.
Arpen laughed uproariously.
“That pretty face of yours looks better now!”
“You... you damn...”
“Yeah! Co at . Even if you drag this out a little, I’ll win anyway! Hahaha! This is so funny, I can’t even focus.”
“You...!!”
“Count! Wait!”
It was at that mont, as Count Mordred bled profusely and charged forward, that the observer intervened, rushing to support the Count.
“You need to get treated imdiately, or you’ll die.”
“Ough! Get out... of my way...!”
“If you’re going to die, hurry up and die already, you piece of shit.”
“Sir Arpen! You must stop too. Technically, Sir Arpen lost when you lost your weapon.”
“Who said I lost? You think I’m going to lose just because I don’t have a weapon?”
Jacob’s sword flared up fiercely. Arpen’s chosen observer firmly replied, “Yes.”
“If this keeps up, both of you will die. Let’s... let’s leave it for another ti.”
“There is no next ti, damn it! The kingdom’s about to be split in two, and you’re talking about next ti? Let go, you little...! You’re not letting go?”
Unfortunately, both observers were knights. Arpen roughly beat the knight who clung to him and threw him off, but by then, Jacob had been struggling for a while and was now unconscious.
Jacob’s observer glanced at Arpen before picking up the Count and fleeing. Arpen, unable to give chase, muttered, “Damn...” quietly to himself.
Turning around, he asked,
“So who won?”
“I... don’t know?”
“What do you an you don’t know? Tell quickly, who do you think won?”
“A draw, perhaps? Without the observers, both of you would have died.”
“Nope.”
Baron Arpen shook his head, speaking as if the outco was obvious.
“I lost.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Jacob got hit by the fragnts by accident. If I had intended to defeat him with those shards, then I would’ve won, but I didn’t. That’s why I lost.”
“...Surprising.”
“What’s surprising?”
“I thought you’d stubbornly insist that you won.”
“What do you take for...? Anyway, that’s why I gave up the axe. I didn’t think I could beat him with it if we fought again. I didn’t realize until I picked up the sword that there’s a reason it’s called the king of all weapons. It’s not as one-sided as an axe. Spears are sowhat better, but they’re too focused on ‘distance.’ I know because my friend Droxa uses a spear.”
“I see...”
Ray nodded.
Arpen, having nothing more to say, quietly downed his drink. As Ray ruminated on his story, a sudden realization struck him.
‘Damn it! I wasted an entire day listening to this guy’s story!’
The sunset was glowing through the window.
Arpen’s expression was... annoyingly satisfied.
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