When Yuri threw down the gauntlet, his neck on the line, Zair’s face twisted in anger. His fist trembled violently. But Yuri had no intention of sparing him any sympathy for how upset he was.
After all, Zair had been the one to pick a fight first.
That arrogant attitude, as if he were sure he was stronger—it disgusted Yuri so much he wanted to shove a knife to his throat and make him whimper on the spot.
Come to think of it, it had been a long time since he’d properly crossed swords with someone.
The last time he’d fought with his life on the line was against Okua.
Maybe that’s why this urge had been bottled up inside him.
Smirking, Yuri looked straight at Zair’s furious face.
“I told you, I’m busy. That’s why I even slapped you myself. Let’s get this over with.”
“Hahaha…”
Zair laughed, incredulous. He looked down at Yuri, a vague smile playing on his lips as if lost in thought, then nodded.
“Very well.”
He turned on his heel.
“Come with me. It would be a stain on my honor to have a prince humiliated in the marketplace. We shall duel within the castle walls.”
“Do you even know what honor means, for someone like you?”
Yuri sneered openly and followed him.
The Gatencha knights, sharing Zair’s anger, created a tense atmosphere.
Even if their lord was at fault, a knight’s duty was to follow orders.
Yuri asked Jared, who stood beside him.
“I envy that. You should always take my side like they do.”
“Well…”
Jared frowned, unconvinced.
Anyway, they passed through the streets of Gatencha and arrived at the castle where Zair resided.
Though it was a count’s castle, the architecture was impressive. Yuri didn’t like it, but he couldn’t deny the empire’s wealth and advancement.
Zair stopped in the middle of a wide courtyard outside the castle.
The ground was well-trodden, marked with boot prints here and there.
Zair glanced back at Yuri.
“This is where the knights train. It should be suitable.”
Yuri stretched.
“Not enough spectators. Why not bring more?”
“You’re confident, aren’t you?”
“You too. Or do you just think you’re strong because you’re older?”
“A knight’s training is proportional to time.”
That was generally true.
Thanks to the mana method.
The longer a knight trained, the greater their mana reserves and the keener their control. Add swordsmanship mastery, and with no sign of physical decline, they only got stronger.
Zair looked competent at a glance.
He probably would have done well even fighting in the alliance army.
But that was as far as it went.
“Don’t worry. I won’t go easy on you.”
“Good. I was worried I might have to kill someone today.”
“I don’t know about that. Swords have no eyes.”
“Well, mine do.”
Yuri said, swinging his sword to the side.
A snake slithering on the ground was sliced in two, writhing.
“Looks like they don’t take care of the grounds much.”
“Your senses are sharp.”
Zair raised his sword.
“Let’s settle the matter of our predecessors here.”
“You don’t have the guts to face the man himself, so you pick a fight with his son? Is that all you’ve got?”
Yuri gripped his sword and stepped forward.
Somehow, he understood why his father had once beheaded a knight in Gatencha.
He felt a visceral disgust toward Zair.
Their temperaments were worlds apart.
What Yuri saw as cowardly and dishonorable, Zair tried to dress up as something righteous, even throwing out pathetic excuses.
What if Yuri had been weak?
He smirked.
The third prince of Briol would have been humiliated in Gatencha and scorned across the continent.
In fact, Zair was hoping for exactly that outcome.
“This must be inherited.”
“Huh?”
“I think my father felt the same about your dead father.”
Zair’s face hardened. Yuri laughed freely at the sight.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.”
“You’re rushing my anger.”
Zair charged at Yuri.
He came at him like a storm, striking high then low, attacking from the right before suddenly switching to the left. Yuri blocked and dodged, retreating step by step.
He was strong.
Now Yuri understood why Zair had picked a fight with him.
No matter how much a knight Yuri’s age trained, it was hard to match this level.
Maybe Zair had swallowed his anger, dreaming of revenge someday.
“Too bad.”
Amid the chaotic waves of sword strikes, Yuri found a single opening and thrust his blade in.
A sharp crack echoed, and Zair’s relentless assault faltered. He stepped back, catching his breath, glaring at Yuri.
Zair tilted his head in confusion.
Then he charged again.
The rain of blades came down once more. Yuri dodged and blocked, then thrust his sword again.
With another crack, Zair staggered backward.
His eyes wavered.
“Now…”
Yuri stepped forward. Zair instinctively retreated. Yuri smiled and pointed at his feet.
“Running away?”
“Nonsense!”
There was no more composure in Zair’s voice.
Yuri stared down the desperate sword strikes coming at him.
Every trajectory was clear.
It didn’t matter how many attacks Zair launched or how much he twisted his path.
The start and end points were fixed.
From Zair’s body to Yuri’s.
So Yuri only needed to push back that origin.
“Ugh!”
From the outside, it looked ridiculous.
A grown knight wildly swinging his sword at a young man, only to be stopped repeatedly by what seemed like playful jabs, then startled into retreat.
But no one laughed.
Not even the Briol knights on Yuri’s side.
Especially not Roland, whose expression was dark.
“Your Highness…”
After winning the tournament, he thought he’d caught up to Yuri somewhat.
Not equal, but at least strong enough not to hold him back, maybe even help.
But no.
Jared chuckled bitterly.
“This makes no sense.”
Everyone there thought the same.
Zair’s attitude was petty, but his swordsmanship was no joke.
He’d earned a reputation since childhood and was considered a fully-fledged knight in his thirties.
When assessing the empire’s strength, just writing his name was enough to form a formidable unit.
Yet here he was, being toyed with like a child.
“Yaaaah!”
Now Zair shouted as he lunged at Yuri.
Some Gatencha knights looked up at the sky in disbelief or bowed their heads to the ground.
“This is absurd!”
His previously composed demeanor was gone.
Zair unleashed his mana method in a frenzy, attacking Yuri recklessly.
Any other knight would have been crushed.
But Yuri Briol stopped every strike with ease.
The third prince’s mana moved as if alive, deftly deflecting attacks at an angle, stepping forward before the motion even began to suppress the force.
It looked like Zair was attacking, but in reality, he was being manipulated at will.
A dark feeling welled up inside Zair’s chest.
“This can’t be…”
He denied reality.
His plan had been simple.
Use the knights to provoke a fight. If Yuri endured the insult, he’d become a laughingstock. If not, he’d challenge him to a duel to vent his frustration.
Though he’d joined the alliance army, Yuri was still just a kid.
He was confident he could beat Roland, the tournament champion, and thought the rumors about the third prince’s exaggerated achievements meant he could easily crush him.
But something ridiculous had happened.
No matter how fast a tree grows, it can’t become a giant oak in ten years. So how?
At some point, the third prince of Briol felt like a demon. It was as if he was being toyed with by a cunning trickster.
Maybe he’d been caught in a trap the third prince set from the start.
All sorts of irrational thoughts flooded his mind.
Now Yuri, no longer holding back, spoke.
“Did the former lord of Gatencha say nothing?”
At those words, Zair recalled the past.
After his father was beheaded, his grandfather told him, as he vowed revenge:
“Don’t think about revenge. He’s a monster unlike you.”
Zair had rebelled but kept that promise.
Fiore Briol was both one of the Ten Great and a king.
There was nothing he could do.
But today, news came that his son had arrived in Gatencha. He saw it as a godsend. Since Fiore had killed his father, humiliating his son would restore balance.
But everything had gone wrong.
Like Fiore Briol, his son Yuri was also a monster. The demonic blood of the sword flowed undiluted in this kid.
Then what about himself?
Zair gritted his teeth.
“Shut your nonsense!”
His life was a quest to restore the honor of the Enekin family.
He trained his sword to wash away disgrace and became a renowned knight.
He couldn’t bring himself to admit that all that time had been for nothing.
Was bloodline really the thing that decided everything from the start?
No matter how much he squeezed out his mana and swung his sword, he couldn’t reach him.
He was just too far away.
“Zair.”
The third prince spoke to him again.
Zair snapped irritably, “Shut up!”
“Oh, now you’re talking down to me?”
“Shut it!”
“Didn’t the former lord say anything?”
“What are you trying to say?”
The third prince’s attack stopped.
Cornered, Zair let his sword drop and gasped for breath. Even holding the sword was difficult. His opponent was like a feather drifting in the air—something he wanted to grasp but simply couldn’t.
The third prince rested his sword casually on his shoulder, wearing a relaxed expression.
“I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just curious.”
“What?”
“I’ve heard from my father about the Gaten-sha incident.”
Zair glared at him.
“I’m curious how you remember it.”
Zair burst out laughing—a voice laced with anger and madness.
“Yeah, go ahead and tell me. They said I was a monster born of a different stock, that I shouldn’t even think about revenge. If I’d known I inherited that bloodline like my father, I’d have made different plans. So, how’s that for the answer you wanted?”
“Yeah, that explains a lot.”
Yuri nodded with a smile after hearing him.
“Genetics are scary, aren’t they?”
“What?”
“All three of us are the same.”
Yuri recalled the past.
When he asked Fiore, Zair’s father, about what happened at Gaten-sha, Fiore had answered simply:
“It couldn’t be helped.”
That was it.
It just happened that way.
Briol wasn’t weak enough for Enekin to act recklessly, and Enekin wasn’t honorable enough for Briol to show mercy.
Now, the two men who inherited the natures of those two families faced each other, and the same story was repeating itself.
That was all there was to it.
If Zair’s grandfather had told him something other than revenge, if he had warned him not to repeat his father’s mistakes, would Zair have turned out better?
It was a meaningless question.
Because the former lord of Gaten-sha was a petty man to begin with.
“My father pushed me into this,” Yuri said, shaking off Fiore’s voice.
“Zair. Do you have children?”
“What nonsense is this now?”
“I’m just asking if you have any.”
“I have a son.”
“I see…”
Yuri approached Zair, carrying the sword Guilty on his shoulder. Since Yuri wasn’t swinging his sword, Zair didn’t know how to react and stood awkwardly.
Suddenly, Yuri held out his hand.
“Shake.”
“What?”
“I don’t like you, and you probably don’t like me. You’re that kind of guy.”
“Are you trying to insult me?”
“No. It means it can’t be helped.”
Zair waved off the offered hand. Not knowing what to do, he extended his hand a little, and Yuri immediately grabbed it.
An awkward handshake followed.
“Let’s say Enekin and Briol have made peace with this.”
“What?”
“Tell your son that.”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Let’s end it here.”
Yuri threw Zair’s hand away and turned around.
Zair stared blankly at Yuri’s back as he walked away, still holding his hand.
Yuri waved his hand over his shoulder.
“After a stylish duel, they shook off old grudges and the two families became friends. How’s that? Not bad, right?”
“Are you pitying me?”
“Don’t talk down to me anymore if you don’t want to die.”
“Uh…”
“Have fun while you’re at it.”
Zair watched Yuri Briol’s retreating back as he led his men away.
He felt an emotion that was hard to explain.
Maybe defeat, maybe not.
Suddenly, he found himself longing to see his son.