Episode 33: The Leafy Plains (3)
“Pavel Vermond.”
The Duke knew the names and skills of all the knights participating in the duel. So when he heard the name Pavel Vermond, he immediately recalled who he was.
“I’ve heard he’s quite skilled among the candidates for the duel.”
“You’ve heard correctly, Your Grace.”
“If Sir Damian recommends him, his skills must be assured, but…”
The Duke trailed off. As seen in Fabian Vincenzo’s duel, the knights of the Marquis’ house were far superior to those of the Duke’s. Even with Pavel Vermond, victory wasn’t guaranteed, leaving the Duke hesitant.
“Your Grace, while the Duke’s knights are strong, they are still of the same low class. There’s no reason to feel disadvantaged.”
Damian Haxen began to persuade the Duke.
“Sir Pavel Vermond has prepared extensively with me for this duel. He won’t lose to any opponent.”
If the knight they sent out lost, defeat would be certain. Yet, despite the risk of being blamed for a loss, Damian Haxen seemed unfazed. His confidence instilled a strange sense of trust in the Duke.
“I’ll trust your word. Have Pavel Vermond step forward.”
At the Duke’s command, Pavel Vermond walked out, his face pale with tension.
“Pavel Vermond. Sir Damian Haxen has recommended you. Do you have the confidence to meet these expectations?”
Pavel hesitated before answering, contemplating for a moment.
”…Yes, I will secure victory, even if it costs me my life.”
The Duke smiled, satisfied with the response.
“Good. Go and fight.”
Pavel Vermond took up his sword and headed to the plains.
The cheers from the Marquis’ side continued until Pavel Vermond stepped forward. As he reached the center of the dueling ground, the Marquis raised his fist, and the soldiers’ cheers abruptly ceased—a testament to his commanding presence.
Soon, a knight emerged from the Marquis’ ranks. He was handsome, with bronzed skin and a large sword strapped to his back, exuding confidence.
’…He’s stronger than me.’
The moment Pavel saw him, he instinctively knew this knight was more powerful.
“I’m Huey Selection. And you are?”
The Marquis’ knight asked Pavel. After taking a deep breath, Pavel replied.
”…Pavel Vermond.”
Upon hearing the name, Huey Selection sighed dramatically.
“Never heard of you. I was hoping for a famous opponent. Beating someone like you won’t earn me any recognition.”
Huey shook his head, his demeanor much lighter than the previous knight.
“Can’t I fight Damian Haxen instead? He’s well-known and seems like he’d be a worthy challenge.”
At the mention of Damian Haxen, Pavel couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Huey asked, tilting his head.
“It’s amusing to hear a stray dog mention a tiger.”
Huey Selection was strong, but he was no Damian Haxen. Damian’s strength was beyond ordinary comprehension. There couldn’t be another like him.
“You’re not famous, but you sure know how to get under someone’s skin.”
Huey lifted the massive sword from his back with ease, as if it were a mere twig. At the same time, he unleashed a surge of power, like a scorching wind.
”…Damn.”
Pavel muttered under his breath. As expected, this man was indeed stronger. Could he really win this fight? A deep sense of despair and doubt filled Pavel’s heart.
“Hey, what are you doing standing there like that? You should be on guard, or else… you’ll get taken down in an instant!”
Huey suddenly charged, aiming the hilt of his sword at Pavel’s chest with astonishing speed. Just in time, Pavel blocked it with the flat of his longsword, though he was pushed back.
“Oh… you seem to have some skill,” Huey remarked, sounding like a superior praising a subordinate.
“Why so quiet? Too shocked to speak?”
Pavel was indeed shocked, but not because of Huey’s surprise attack.
’…It’s similar.’
The technique Huey used was the same one Damian Haxen often employed. Whenever Pavel approached, Damian would frequently strike with the hilt.
’…Is it a coincidence?’
Using the hilt instead of the blade was a common technique in various sword styles. Thus, Pavel couldn’t be certain.
“This might actually be fun!”
Huey charged at Pavel again, closing the distance in an instant and raising his sword. The speed was so great that the air seemed to tear.
Pavel instinctively retreated, narrowly avoiding the sword as it struck the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.
“Let’s see if you can dodge this too!”
Through the dust, Huey’s sword swung horizontally, targeting Pavel’s side. But Pavel was already in a defensive stance, blocking the incoming sword with his blade.
”…You blocked that too?”
For the first time, Huey Selection looked genuinely surprised.
’…Unbelievable.’
But Pavel was even more astonished.
‘This is similar too?’
Damian Haxen always followed a downward strike with a horizontal slash. During their training, the stone floor hadn’t kicked up dust, but Pavel had faced the move so often that his body reacted instinctively.
This wasn’t just similar; it was identical.
‘I’ve heard the Marquis’ knights practice a style called the Lion’s Sword… How did Damian Haxen learn it?’
A possibility flashed through Pavel’s mind.
A spy.
Could Damian Haxen be a spy sent by the Marquis?
’…That’s a ridiculous thought.’
But Pavel quickly dismissed the idea. Two days ago, after their training, Damian had advised the duelists:
Damian’s advice had been invaluable. By repeatedly reviewing Damian’s moves, Pavel had managed to evade Huey Selection’s attacks.
‘No spy would share their family’s secrets with a rival.’
That left only one possibility.
’…He learned it by watching.’
He’d heard of geniuses who could replicate techniques just by observing them. For someone of Damian Haxen’s caliber, it was entirely plausible.
‘No, Damian Haxen didn’t just mimic it…’
Though both used the Lion’s Sword, Damian’s execution was far superior. Huey Selection’s technique seemed childish in comparison.
‘He not only learned the Marquis’ secret style but surpassed their knights?’
A chill ran down Pavel’s spine, momentarily freezing him.
“I told you to focus!”
Huey Selection seized the opportunity, swinging his sword at Pavel’s head. It was another technique Pavel had faced countless times with Damian.
Pavel deftly deflected the blow with his blade.
“You little…!”
Huey pressed his attack, his sword moving relentlessly. Yet none of his strikes landed on Pavel.
Pavel evaded Huey’s sword with ease, countering the final attack with his own blade. The sharp clash of metal echoed as Huey’s sword was knocked back.
“Ugh?”
Huey Selection’s face showed confusion. Pavel didn’t miss the opening.
For the first time since the duel began, Pavel advanced, launching his own offensive and putting Huey on the defensive.
“Ugh, damn it!”
Huey struggled to fend off Pavel’s attacks, overwhelmed by the opponent he had underestimated.
Humiliated, Huey’s face flushed with anger.
“Enough of this!”
Huey put more force into his sword, but Pavel noticed immediately. Their swords tangled, and Pavel used his strength to disarm Huey, sending his sword flying.
Huey stared at his empty hands in disbelief, just as Pavel’s blade touched his neck.
“I win.”
Pavel declared calmly, his sword poised.
“Wow!”
“Yeah!”
Thunderous cheers erupted, welcoming Pavel’s victory. The overwhelming sound sent a shiver through him.
Pavel sheathed his sword and turned toward the Duke’s side, prompting even louder cheers. He felt something swell within his chest, a sense of triumph and fulfillment.
At that moment, Pavel Vermond’s gaze fell upon Demian Haxen.
Unlike the jubilant members of the duke’s household, Demian Haxen wore an expression of utter calm, as if he had anticipated this outcome all along.
“Demian Haxen…”
The excitement that had been bubbling within Pavel suddenly dissipated, replaced by a sense of foreboding and fear.
“Who are you, really?”
Pavel shivered as he posed the unanswerable question to himself.
“Who would have thought Sir Pavel Vermond would win so splendidly?”
The Duke of Goldpixie spoke, his face unable to hide a broad smile.
“Sir Demian’s judgment was spot on.”
“Sir Pavel Vermond simply did his part.”
“And it was you who recognized and recommended him, wasn’t it?”
The duke nodded, adding, “Unlike someone who cost us a round due to poor judgment.”
Sebastian Vincenzo lowered his head at the duke’s barbed remark.
“Now, only the representative duel remains. Are you confident?”
In response to the duke’s question, Demian replied nonchalantly, “I’ll handle it well enough.”
“Please… kill me.”
Hugh Selection pleaded, prostrated before the marquis.
“Why speak such words? You did your best. The other knight was simply stronger.”
The marquis consoled Hugh Selection. Punishing a knight who fought for the family was unthinkable.
“And don’t be too disheartened. Victory is ours in the end.”
The marquis turned his gaze to where Michael Ryanbloom stood, quietly observing the plains.
“His Excellency is right,” Hugh Selection said, his face full of respect.
To the marquis’s knights, Michael Ryanbloom was a symbol of invincibility.
“Go and rest now.”
Hugh Selection bowed and withdrew.
The marquis approached Michael, who continued to gaze at the plains even as his father neared.
“Michael.”
Despite being called, Michael remained silent, prompting the marquis to sigh deeply.
Just as he was about to call his son’s name again, Michael spoke up.
“Father, isn’t it strange?”
Michael began abruptly.
“Hugh was stronger than the duke’s knight. By two, no, three levels, I would say.”
The marquis agreed with Michael’s assessment. Even by his high standards, Hugh Selection was superior in physique, magic, skill, and experience.
Yet, he had lost. Not just lost, but was overwhelmed.
The duke’s knight had blocked all of Hugh’s attacks, seized the upper hand, and claimed victory.
It was as if a dog had devoured a wolf.
“The duke’s knight completely saw through the Lion’s Guard technique. But it’s odd, isn’t it? He didn’t seem that talented.”
The marquis nodded at his son’s words.
“I think the same. Perhaps the Lion’s Guard technique has been leaked. We should conduct a thorough investigation when we return…”
“Father, that’s not it.”
Michael interrupted his father.
“The Lion’s Guard wasn’t leaked. That man discovered it. He figured it out and taught it.”
Only then did the marquis realize where Michael’s gaze was fixed.
Demian Haxen.
He was looking solely at that man.
“Isn’t it incredible? The Lion’s Guard isn’t a low-level technique. It’s a swordsmanship refined and improved by our ancestors over generations. Not only did he see through it, but he also taught it to other knights.”
Such a feat was beyond ordinary talent.
Even for most geniuses, it would be impossible.
“Father, you know, I’ve never felt my heart race like this before.”
Michael placed a hand over his chest, his face slightly flushed.
“I’ve finally found someone like me.”
The marquis looked at his son with a complicated expression.
He had intended to stress the importance of winning.
But he couldn’t bring himself to dampen his son’s excitement.
Besides, it seemed unnecessary.
“Michael, go and enjoy yourself to the fullest.”
At his father’s words, Michael picked up his sword.
As he walked to the dueling ground, Michael Ryanbloom could feel his heart pounding fiercely.
“Finally, I’ve met him.”
Michael Ryanbloom’s life could be summed up in one word: boredom.
When he first picked up a sword, he was filled with anticipation.
Learning swordsmanship from his father was exhilarating.
Meeting senior knights was thrilling.
But as the days of wielding a sword stretched on, that excitement and curiosity quickly faded.
In short, it was all too easy.
He could mimic his father’s sword techniques after seeing them just once.
Knights who were said to be stronger than him turned out to be nothing special in battle.
At some point, Michael stopped going near the training grounds.
He put down his sword, plagued by ennui and lethargy.
“I’ve found him.”
He had thought he would never encounter a rival or equal.
But today, in an unexpected place, he had found one.
A genius with talent to match his own.
A knight who could be his rival.
Michael Ryanbloom stood before Demian Haxen.
“I’m Michael Ryanbloom.”
Suppressing his excitement, Michael introduced himself. Demian Haxen yawned before responding.
“Demian Haxen.”
Michael felt a smile creeping onto his face.
“I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time.”
He wanted to draw his sword immediately.
But this was a precious rival he had finally met.
He wanted to do things properly.
“A peer who can fight me on equal terms.”
Michael Ryanbloom gripped his sword hilt, his heart racing.
“I beg you, don’t disappoint me.”
Michael Ryanbloom drew his sword, the blade glinting coldly in the sunlight.
“Equal?”
Demian Haxen uttered the word dismissively.
“Have you not fully realized your potential? Otherwise, you wouldn’t say such a thing.”
Demian Haxen’s words were entirely unexpected for Michael Ryanbloom.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to come down to your level.”
What are you talking about?
Michael was about to ask when suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. It felt as if a rough hand had grabbed the back of his neck.
Dread, a sense of danger, fear.
All these emotions surged within him.
Unconsciously, Michael drew his sword, aiming it at Demian Haxen.
Or at least, he tried to.
The sword tip refused to rise, frozen in place, pointing downward.
He couldn’t even properly look at Demian Haxen, let alone aim his sword at him.
His entire body trembled. Cold sweat dripped onto the ground.
“Michael Ryanbloom.”
Demian Haxen spoke softly.
To Michael, it felt like a spike piercing his ears.
“Do you still see me as your equal?”
The sword fell to the ground.
Before Michael Ryanbloom even realized he had dropped his sword, he was on his knees.
“I… yield…”
His mouth moved on its own. Michael couldn’t even think to stop it.
“I yield…”
The third duel’s victor was decided.