[Translator - Prøks]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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Chapter 50: That's Right, Give It Your Best
An unexpected statent caused a significant stir among the people. I found it strangely unfamiliar how people were reacting so dramatically to just a few of my words. In the past, how many had truly listened to the words of young Karzan, who was just an orphan?
'Only those guys ever did.'
I thought of the faces that had blurred with ti.
'But the gaze Allenvert receives is so different now.'
The status of being a Duke’s Son, his beautiful appearance, and his contrasting backstory... If all of this could create even a small sense of compassion for the boy Allenvert, that would be exactly what I desired. The scene I'm about to show will surely surprise them even more.
"Captain Jeffrey!"
Seeing a familiar face in the crowd, I called him.
"Yes, Young Master."
As Jeffrey stood up, all eyes turned to him.
"Who did you bet on?"
Jeffrey gave a sly smile.
"I bet on you, Young Master."
"Excellent, that takes courage. That's how a man should be."
Murmurs grew louder at the news of Jeffrey's bet.
"How much did you bet?"
"10 gold."
I clapped my hands.
"Congratulations. You will be the true victor of this occasion."
"I believe only in you, Young Master."
"Of course."
I rolled my eyes, observing the crowd contemplating where to place their bets, then spotted Keseg walking out from afar with a face full of dissatisfaction.
"Ah, finally, another protagonist has appeared."
Oh, how awkward this might be.
The atmosphere had already shifted to my advantage.
* * *
"Both sides, please step forward."
Olivier, serving as the notary, naturally took on the role of referee.
"This is a duel. The victor will be determined by the referee's judgnt when one side acknowledges defeat, drops their sword, or when one side's prospects of victory beco clearly dim."
"Understood."
"Ok."
Keseg and I answered simultaneously.
"Using mana or Killing techniques will result in imdiate disqualification."
"Yes."
"Do not worry."
Olivier looked sharply at Keseg. It was a look that seed to say ‘Don't try anything.’
But for Keseg, whose chest was now a mix of burning pride, honor, and frustration, such a glance would hardly have any effect.
"Both sides, take five steps back."
The distance between us increased significantly.
Keseg stared at with a face as if he had eaten shit. Apparently, he was jealous of having his attention stolen.
"Have you eaten your lunch? Your expression looks rather poor."
"...Young Master."
Keseg spoke with a bitter tone.
"Accepting this duel was clearly a mistake. You have greatly underestimated this Keseg."
"..."
Wow, look at how dramatically he's delivering that line.
"Was that a prepared line?"
"...!"
"I'm going crazy. Please tell it's not."
Keseg's face turned deep red.
"What's wrong? Are you angry or embarrassed?"
"...Let's begin."
"Why suddenly change your tone?"
I scratched my ear and slowly raised the wooden sword. It was made of solid, dense wood. A direct hit outside protective gear would break bones. Like Barclava's hand bones.
"I'm ready."
Keseg raised his wooden sword to chest height. A standard mid-level stance. I took the exact sa posture.
Swoosh— Keseg approached, slowly dragging his feet. A technique to disrupt the opponent's senses and close the distance.
'Not bad.'
I mimicked him exactly. Instantly, our distance narrowed.
"Look, the movents are completely identical!"
"I heard young master haven't learned swordsmanship. Did he separately learn footwork?"
"No way."
"Then did he mimic it just by watching?"
Seemingly conscious of the spectators, Keseg's footwork changed. A form I'd never seen even during guard training. Could it be his family's secret martial technique?
'How cute.'
I copied his movents precisely.
"This ti it's the sa too!"
"He’s directly stealing the opponent's technique?!"
"What incredible observation."
"This is absurd. Is sothing like this even possible?"
"Probably not."
I went a step further, executing footwork faster than Keseg's, moving to his blind spot.
"Foo, fhoo-fhoo, foo."
Look. Exhaling through my mouth makes feel even lighter.
"Waaaaaah!"
"Young Master is faster!"
Since no mana was used, this was purely a difference in our physical movents.
"...Young Master, a duel is not a joke."
Keseg's expression hardened as he felt mocked.
“I know. I'm just trying to copy your moves because I haven't learned anything yet.
"Then let's see if you can follow this."
Swish—!
Keseg's sword suddenly flew, targeting my blind spot. I lightly stepped back, deflecting the strike.
Clang!
The sound of wooden swords colliding. My grip tingled.
'Indeed, the power is trendous.'
A wooden sword wielded by a 4th-tier Royal Guard was a weapon in itself. Blocking directly would not make it last long.
'However...'
Disadvantages in strength, speed, and technique were familiar to .
"Why are you just defending!"
Keseg proclaid confidently.
"You can never defeat by just blocking!"
I calmly observed Keseg's movents, deflecting his strikes at the last possible mont. To onlookers, it probably seed precarious. But my center of gravity never wavered.
‘So, this is how he fights.’
I had spent a lot of ti ticulously studying the unique characteristics of the sword techniques practiced by the Royal Guards.
‘Knights clad in heavy armor typically favor an offensive style, wielding greatswords or powerful longswords.’
But the Royal Guards, equipped for combat in urban environnts with lighter gear, had a different approach. Their style emphasized speed, precision, and a seamless balance between attack and defense.
‘In a way, I can see the glimpse of the Grunewald’s swordsmanship.’
Now that I think of it, it makes sense that the techniques of the Grunewald influenced the guards’ combat style. After all, the Grunewalds had long been associated with the kingdom's military structure.
Still, it was fascinating how the combat style varied depending on the role of the unit.
“Hngh!”
Frustrated by my unyielding defense, Keseg’s movents grew larger and more forceful.
It’s human nature.
When faced with an impenetrable defense, the instinct is to apply more power to break through.
But rember—when you focus solely on attacking, you’re at your most vulnerable.
As Keseg raised his sword high, leaving himself open, I swiftly struck at the gap and then retreated.
“Gah!”
“Your chest was wide open.”
The crowd erupted in cheers at the sight of casually outmaneuvering Keseg.
“Woooah!”
“What the—what just happened?”
“I couldn’t even see the movent!”
“Wait, he really hasn’t trained in swordsmanship before? How is this possible?”
Perfect—be even more amazed. I stood still, watching Keseg as he staggered.
“Urgh… cough!”
Keseg clutched his chest and coughed repeatedly as if struggling to breathe.
“That was just a light tap, so it doesn’t count for determining the winner. If you’d been wearing armor, it wouldn’t have worked, right?”
I glanced at Olivier, who answered with a subtle nod.
Olivier t my gaze and responded.
"Correct. Both sides, continue."
Keseg's expression turned savage after the unexpected counterattack.
"It's best to use all available techniques."
Keseg's montum beca fierce, seemingly taking my advice seriously.
"That's right, give it your best."
I intended to steal every martial technique Keseg had learned today.
‘You think I can't learn if you don't teach ?’
There's always a way.
* * *
Ulbhild and the mbers of the Special Operations Division were stunned by the scene.
"...Wow."
Soone muttered.
"Is this even possible?"
Initially seeming to be on the defensive, Allenvert had begun precisely mimicking Keseg's techniques.
This was beyond re mimicry. Each of Allenvert's movents matched Keseg's with such precision that one couldn't tell who was the actual Royal Guard.
Even more astonishing was how ticulously he replicated every minute detail—footwork, breathing, sword angles.
"Normally, soone would need days of training to achieve this."
"At this level, does he even need an instructor?"
"Not quite. With such combat sense and proper martial arts training..."
Just then, Allenvert effortlessly deflected Keseg's triple strike and struck his shoulder blade.
"!"
"That!"
The technique was so subtle that about half the Special Operations Division couldn't fully see the movent.
"Listen, Keseg. Your all attacks are nothing but flashy. What matters is the flow of consecutive strikes, not the form. Haven't you realized that?"
Allenvert was even teaching Keseg a lesson.
"...Allen."
Ulbhild's lips parted slightly.
"Truly remarkable."
She was srized by her brother's talent.
"Look, Harold. This is sothing only an instructor would do when teaching an inexperienced student—mimicking the student's movents while correcting weaknesses."
"...Indeed."
Harold wiped the sweat on his forehead. He was equally shocked.
"But Allenvert has never learned swordsmanship from anyone."
"Is that really true?"
"Absolutely."
"So you're saying Allenvert can perfectly replicate a Royal Guard's swordsmanship after seeing it just once?"
"What else could it be?"
Ulbhild countered.
"Even I or Brother Verdzig couldn't do this. ...He's a genius of a type we've never seen."
At that mont, Allenvert Grunewald was displaying the extraordinary talent hidden within him.
It was a brilliance that srized all who watched. Truly, a once-in-a-generation prodigy stood before them.
"He could join the Special Operations Division right now."
"I agree. We're short on people anyway."
The Special Operations Division forgot their jealousy, marveling at Allenvert's talent.
'How tragic. If father truly intends to neglect Allen's talent because of his background...'
Ulbhild's gaze deepened.
'I'll teach him myself.'
As a swordsman, she couldn't leave such talent untrained.
And one more thought.
'Allen, perhaps you are...'
Another possibility was unfolding in Ulbhild's mind.
***
In the Royal Guard's underground prison, several people were groaning.
"Damn it, brother. Can we even get out of here alive?"
"I don't know, so stop asking."
"Shit, I told you not to do this."
The leader, with his ponytail completely torn and pulled out, was biting his younger brothers' fingernails with his mouth.
"We were completely set up. That guy deliberately pushed us, knowing he's from Grunewald. He kept it a secret from us."
"What good is that now?"
"What do you an, 'good'? That bastard put us in this state. When we get out, we'll get our revenge!"
"Even if I'm released, I'm finished. Who'd be scared of a guy with no hands, can't even swing a knife!!”
"Stop being dramatic. So have died."
"Bullshit. What does it matter if we die first when we're all dead anyway?"
They were n who had touched Allenvert under Sorset's instigation and ended up in this miserable state.
"...The outside seems quite noisy today."
"Looks like a festival."
"Damn it."
They had no way of knowing this commotion was all because of Allenvert.
"Think we can escape in this chaos?"
"Forget it. We'd be caught before going 100 steps."
"So what? Just die locked up?"
"If no cri is found, they'll release us. We barely touched him, just got beaten. They won't kill us."
"Easy for you to say. If it were you, touching a treasured young master..."
Squeak.
The n, arguing and spitting, simultaneously turned as the door opened.
"...?"
"Who's there?"
A black-robed figure slowly walked towards them, face hidden.
"Hey, who are you!"
The shadowless figure's shadow suddenly covered their faces without explanation.
"My apologies, gentlen-"
With a voice dry as a riverbed in drought, the black-robed figure spoke.
"Don't resent in the underworld."
The shadow of death descended.
[Translator - Prøks]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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