League Branch Office.
A towering skyscraper more than a hundred ters tall, standing proud in the heart of Tokyo's bustling cityscape.
Beneath, ten floors underground—
This was the place where Kurogane Ikki was being held.
"Get up!"
The heavy steel door swung open with a tallic clank.
Two n clad in crimson jackets barged in. Their eyes, filled with disdain, swept over the figure lying on the bed with nothing but contempt on their faces.
Ikki slowly sat up.
The room was completely sealed. One bed sat in the corner, while a toilet and sink stood on the opposite side.
No sunlight. No sound from the outside world. A prison of absolute isolation. Anyone trapped here long enough would eventually crumble, both ntally and physically.
The sink and toilet were dry. The water he was given each day barely kept him alive. The food was minimal, almost inhumane.
Supporting his weary body, Ikki stood and staggered toward the door.
For the past several days, he'd been dragged to interrogation sessions that lasted until dawn. And when he returned to collapse in bed, loud noises would echo from every direction, making it impossible to rest. Then, at sunrise, the process repeated.
No physical torture was used.
But ntally and physically, he'd been pushed to the brink.
"Kh… khak!"
His face was pale, his throat dry and itching. He coughed twice, unable to hold it back.
"Quit faking it! Move it already! Don't waste the ti of our superiors!"
The two crimson-jacketed n shoved him roughly, their expressions filled with irritation.
Lapdogs.
Perfect, loyal mutts.
And what a joke. Who was really wasting whose ti?
That pack of red foxes had been grilling him nonstop from morning to night, cycling through different interrogators like so ga of musical chairs. In the end, they were just wasting their own ti.
Besides—
Another wave of harsh coughing wracked Ikki's body. He clutched at his chest.
He wasn't faking it.
He really was sick.
His pale complexion wasn't an act. It was a direct result of falling ill.
Which, under normal circumstances, was nearly impossible. Given how rigorously he managed his health, it would take sothing like a rare, sudden illness to knock him down.
So there was only one explanation.
They'd drugged his food.
They were sparing no thods.
Interrogation Room.
A pitch-black, cavernous space.
Ikki stood shackled in the center like a criminal. Surrounding him on all sides were crimson-jacketed interrogators, looming over him and applying unrelenting psychological pressure.
No chair. No chance to rest. Just hours of standing on end, and the mont he shifted even slightly, sharp rebukes would rain down.
They threw language traps at him nonstop, hoping to catch him in a lie. Like hyenas circling prey, eager to tear him apart.
But Ikki refused to give in.
He insisted that his relationship with Stella was one of true love. He denied all accusations of being a womanizer. Not a single crack could be found in his words.
The interrogators grew more and more agitated.
This farce had been going on for days now. Ikki was long since sick of the routine.
"Let's take a break, shall we?"
A voice oozing with insincerity cut through the room, followed by a sly laugh.
Waddling into the room ca a short, portly man, grinning like the god Ebisu himself.
"Akaza-sama."
"Good afternoon."
The very sa interrogators who had just been lording over Ikki now bowed and fawned like subservient dogs, groveling in front of Akaza.
"My, my… Ikki, you truly are stubborn to the core. But continuing like this benefits no one, wouldn't you agree?"
Leaning on his cane, Akaza walked to the head of the chamber, standing above Ikki like a judge about to deliver a verdict.
"Speak."
Ikki didn't answer imdiately. Instead, he responded with a calm, probing tone.
"What kind of 'opportunity' are you referring to?"
"What insolence!"
"Akaza-sama is offering you rcy, and you dare to question it?!"
The red jackets exploded with fury, barking at Ikki like cornered hounds.
"No need for that," Akaza said, tapping his cane lightly on the floor. His face never lost its oily smile.
The others imdiately fell silent. Akaza looked pleased.
"The final round of the selection matches at Hagun Academy is just around the corner. And given that certain individuals still question your qualifications… why not resolve it in the most ti-honored tradition of knights?"
"A duel."
Akaza grinned like a sly fox.
"A duel, you say?"
"That's right," he confird. "But this duel's opponent… will be chosen by us."
"By you?" Ikki's brow furrowed instantly.
Dueling was a ti-honored tradition among knights. Once a result was reached through proper combat, all parties were bound to respect the outco.
This thod had its roots in dieval Europe, and due to the League's central leadership being based in Britain—the origin point of modern knightdom—such customs had spread across all mber nations.
"If you win this duel, we'll release you.But if you lose—well, I think you can imagine what's waiting for you."
It was a one-sided, rigged deal.
Even if Ikki won, all he'd get was the bare minimum—his rightful freedom. Nothing more.
There was no benefit to agreeing.
"Ah, and by the way—this entire arrangent has already received the approval of King Vermillion."
Akaza's smugness blood into a full-blown smirk.
"Though, truth be told, we sort of… mislabeled the proposal when we sent it out. Just a little clerical error about hosting a duel. The staff really need to be more careful!"
"But the King was intrigued. He said, 'If that boy can't even pass a test like this, I'd never hand my daughter over to him. 'What a loving and protective father, wouldn't you agree?"
Ikki's heart sank.
He didn't need to ask why the King would agree to such terms—it was clear the storm of slander and fake news outside had obscured the truth.
And now, his last escape route had been sealed.
His father had abandoned him. His clan treated him like he was invisible. His brother refused to acknowledge him.
Even when he wandered the nation after leaving ho, no one recognized his worth. Even after enrolling in Hagun, oppression awaited at every turn.
It was like the entire world had turned its back on him.
But Stella—Stella had saved him.
When she said,
"Ikki will definitely beco a great knight." No one could know how much those words ant to him.
He could endure the slander aid at himself.
But the mont they threw mud at Stella—he could not forgive that. He would clear her na, no matter the cost!
"Fine. I accept. Who's the opponent you've chosen?"
"Oh? Tomorrow, you were originally set to fight an E-rank third-year, weren't you? How boring! Even if you beat soone like that, it wouldn't prove anything."
Akaza leaned back in his seat, smirking down at the standing Ikki like a puppetmaster admiring his strings.
"So the Ethics Committee has selected a more suitable opponent—Hagun's strongest student.The Student Council President... Raikiri, Toudou Touka. Thoughtful of us, isn't it?"
Ikki's breath caught.
Toudou Touka.
Of course he knew the na. She was the senior disciple of his friend. And his lover's close confidant.
Her strength was undeniable. Among all student knights in the nation, she ranked near the very top—second, to be precise.
"Huh? One mont—I have to take this call."
Akaza's phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned slightly and picked up.
"Yes, this is Akaza…You've approved the change in opponent? Hah, as expected of the daughter of the Totokubara Conglorate—so pragmatic…Then, the opponent will be—what?!"
***
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