Amunson’s sword was faster. Simon cried out as the blade struck his shoulder.
“Ugh!”
Simon staggered back, trying to steady himself. But his right shoulder was clearly injured—his arm hung limply, and he struggled to raise his sword.
Instinctively, Amunson knew.
He couldn’t give him any more time.
If this was an injury sustained during the duel, it wasn’t cowardly. This was the moment to seize victory.
“Die!”
Amunson shouted fiercely, raising his wooden sword with both hands.
And just as he brought it down hard—
“Ha!”
Simon, who looked like he might collapse at any second, suddenly snapped back to full strength and stabbed Amunson in the stomach.
The right arm that was thought to be injured was suddenly as strong as ever.
Amunson doubled over in pain, muttering through gritted teeth.
“Coward…”
And then he collapsed with a heavy thud.
“Ha….”
Simon had won.
He swung his wooden sword through the air with flair, then sheathed it behind his back.
“That was a good match, Amunson.”
Closing his eyes, Simon savored the moment of victory.
The secret technique Yuli had taught him—the art of feigning injury.
A dark tactic that deceived the enemy to create the perfect counterattack opportunity.
It wasn’t as simple as it looked.
The skill levels had to be evenly matched, the ability to improvise and incorporate the opponent’s attack into the technique was essential, and exceptional acting skills were required.
Above all, luck had to be on your side.
All those elements aligned perfectly, and Amunson was completely fooled. His reckless move had cost him dearly—death.
Though, not actual death.
“Uh…”
“That was…”
The audience was stunned, unsure how to react to Simon’s confident execution of the feigned injury.
“Maybe he really was hurt?”
Someone whispered.
This wasn’t just a sparring match; the entire continent was watching. Would a knight bearing the name of Briol really stoop to trickery?
With that naive thought, the crowd began to lean toward a more positive opinion.
“Yeah, maybe he was really hurt and gritted his teeth to keep going.”
“He’s got guts.”
“Anyone would think he wasn’t hurt at all. Ha ha ha…”
Simon said nothing, only looking at Yuli. She smiled back.
Simon felt a deeper respect for Yuli and bowed silently.
Graham, who had been standing quietly nearby, declared Simon’s victory.
“The win goes to Briol.”
Having watched the duel up close, Graham had suspected some trickery, but he believed that even a sparring match should be as real as a battle, so he didn’t overturn the result.
Simon won, Amunson lost.
That was all there was to it.
Before anyone could object, Gonte stood and applauded.
“Unfortunate loss. But well fought, Amunson. You accept defeat like a true knight. That was a splendid match.”
Yuli quickly accepted his praise.
“What does winning or losing matter? The important thing is that two outstanding knights met and learned from each other. It was just luck. If Sir Amunson had had one less drink, Simon would be the one lying on the ground.”
“Thank you for your kind words!”
“Likewise!”
Yuli and Gonte clapped and smiled at each other.
And so, the wager between the two nations ended.
Joachim would send knights to Briol to receive a different kind of training.
Jared, who had sensed some scheme, muttered beside them.
“I can’t believe that trick actually worked…”
Yuli nudged him and pushed through the crowd, calling out.
“Come on, let’s continue the feast! The winner deserves to celebrate. Even the orcs who went to the afterlife are surely blessing our feast from the boiling pits of hell!”
Yuli was glad to personally train new allies to stand against the empire, and Gonte was pleased to be able to straighten out the weak-willed younger generation.
The rest simply enjoyed watching the fight.
Everyone had won—except one.
Only Amunson lay forgotten on the cold ground, cooling in the night air.
The feast was over.
Everyone returned to their lodgings, and one by one, the lights in Valshard dimmed.
The night grew quiet.
Marie-Rose sat in her bedroom, humming softly as she brushed her hair.
Suddenly, the brush caught on a tangled knot.
“Ouch.”
She frowned deeply.
“Ugh, so annoying.”
She pulled the brush free and tossed it onto the bed.
“What’s got you so irritated?”
“You.”
Hernando was leaning against the window frame.
Marie-Rose grumbled.
“What kind of ill-mannered behavior is this, barging into a lady’s bedroom uninvited?”
“You knew I was coming.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“But I warned you.”
“You should have dispelled it.”
Before Hernando entered, the mana in the room had flowed unnaturally—a subtle warning of his arrival.
“The one I really want to see never shows up…”
“Dream on.”
“Who do you think I’m talking about?”
Hernando gave her a sharp look.
“At first, I thought it was a joke, but now I’m worried.”
“It was never a joke.”
“You’re still young.”
“Oh?”
Marie-Rose narrowed her eyes at Hernando.
“Are you serious?”
“About what?”
“I thought you were just here out of curiosity, but it seems you’ve really grown attached. Is that okay?”
“Even a third party would react the same way.”
“No, I wouldn’t. Should I call the person involved and ask?”
“Honestly…”
Hernando sighed, holding his head.
“Enough.”
“Oh, so you’re giving me permission?”
“Stop talking nonsense. I’m here because of this.”
“What is it?”
Hernando looked around the room, then spread out a magical barrier.
Marie-Rose tilted her head.
It wasn’t just sound being blocked—this was a wall to prevent magical energy from leaking out.
Hernando pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and placed it on the table by the window.
“Come see.”
“Give it to me.”
“Come see.”
“Do I have to?”
“Marie-Rose.”
His expression turned serious, and she stood up.
“Alright, alright.”
“Cast your mental defenses.”
“Huh?”
“Then look.”
The atmosphere was tense.
Only then did Marie-Rose glance sideways at the parchment on the table.
…
She stepped back.
Her pupils trembled.
“What on earth is that…?”
When she looked at Hernando, he just shook his head.
Marie-Rose wrapped her mind in a mental shield and cautiously stepped forward.
Her breath quickened as she approached.
The edges of her vision were swallowed by darkness.
Within the undulating black energy, only the old parchment on the table glowed faintly.
Marie-Rose chanted another spell.
A white light enveloped her, and the mysterious dark energy receded.
She stood before the table, staring at the parchment.
It was covered in strange, indecipherable characters.
Suddenly, a whispering began behind her. At first, she thought it was Hernando, but the voice grew closer.
Now it was right at the nape of her neck.
Her body froze, unable to move.
The whisper climbed along her neck, reaching her ear, murmuring directly.
…
Marie-Rose’s reason blurred.
The characters on the parchment writhed, crawling like worms before twisting together into a single form—a living tower.
A black tower soaring to the sky.
Against a blood-red sky, it slowly grew.
An eye opened in its center.
The whispering grew louder.
The sound shook her head.
She wanted to stop listening, but she was rooted to the spot.
Exhaling the breath she’d been holding, she shouted,
“Aegis!”
A brilliant light flared from her body.
The eerie whispers and the blurring hallucinations faded. Only the eye in the tower remained, glaring at her before vanishing.
Marie-Rose layered multiple mana seals over the parchment. Still, the malevolent energy tried to seep out.
“Seal, seal, seal, seal!”
She shouted nervously, wrapping the parchment in layers of mana.
Catching her breath, Marie-Rose looked at Hernando.
“What is this?”
Her face was flushed, sweat trickling down her neck.
“I just took a bath.”
She wiped her forehead and neck with a handkerchief.
“If it were anyone else, their mind would have been corrupted. What is this thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Where did you get it?”
“From Oqua’s corpse.”
Hernando crossed his arms and approached the table.
“It was left there.”
The parchment, wrapped in layers of Marie-Rose’s magic, looked like an old relic covered in an incomprehensible language.
“He said the body was just a lump of flesh.”
“Yes.”
“After Longinus pierced it…”
“You used Longinus? Without removing the seal?”
“We connected all the allied mages to use it. They were all skilled.”
“And?”
“I went to check because I was curious how such a thing happened. There was a faint aura of evil energy. Because of Longinus, it was temporarily powerless.”
“Even after being pierced by Longinus, it’s like this…”
“I sealed it immediately when I saw it.”
“If someone else had found it, many would have gone mad.”
Marie-Rose waved the parchment up and down.
“A fragment of a dark grimoire?”
“Probably.”
Hernando stared intently at Marie-Rose and said,
“So, what do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can you decipher it?”
Without hesitation, she slammed the parchment down on the table.
“No, I don’t want to.”
“Marie-Rose, this is important.”
Hernando picked it up again and held it out to her.
“Look here.”
He pointed to the torn edge of the parchment. The ragged tear was still visible.
“Like you said, this is only a fragment. It might not end with just one page.”
“Are you saying someone gave this to Okua?”
“I hope not, but it’s very likely.”
“Maybe someone just happened to find it somewhere out on the plains?”
“That guy used dark magic. He knew how to handle this. It’s too dangerous to chalk it up to coincidence.”
Marie-Rose sighed deeply.
“Alright. I don’t even know if I can read this—it’s a completely unfamiliar script—but I’ll try.”
“When will the transcendental interpretation method be ready?”
“Do you think it’s something you can just whip up whenever you want?”
“Well, you should be able to at least get part of it.”
“That’s true, but this is different. This thing is dangerous even if you leave it alone. You don’t think it’ll just translate straightforwardly, do you?”
“I see.”
“Here, give it to me. I’ll give it a shot.”
Marie-Rose placed her hand on the parchment.
“But you know,”
“Hmm?”
“If someone really did give this to him, the timing is suspicious, isn’t it?”
Hernando didn’t answer.
Leaning on the table, Marie-Rose smiled faintly.
“If our prince hadn’t pulled off that unbelievable feat, and if that stranger hadn’t joined us by chance, the allied forces might have been sacrificed alive.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Just think—so many troops just wandered right into the orc king’s hands, who happened to get this very item.”
She opened the window.
A cold night breeze swept in.
Gazing out at the dark landscape of Valshard, Marie-Rose continued,
“Don’t you have a guess who might have handed it over?”
“Enough.”
Hernando closed the window with a stern expression.
“Don’t say any more. That’s a dangerous line of thought.”
“Why?”
“Stop here.”
He stepped away from Marie-Rose.
“All I’m asking is for you to translate this as best you can. Nothing more. Just that much, and then let me know.”
“Understood.”
“Then I’m off.”
Just as Hernando began gathering his mana again,
knock, knock, knock.
They both turned their heads simultaneously.
Someone was knocking on the door.
The visitor knocked politely once more.
knock, knock, knock.
Hernando looked at Marie-Rose. She shrugged and silently mouthed, I don’t know.
The person outside stopped knocking and fell silent.
Marie-Rose muttered softly,
“Gone…?”
Suddenly, Hernando reached out.
“No, quite the opposite.”
With mana, he flung the door open.
Standing there was an uninvited guest.
Hernando sighed.
“Next time, at least knock three times.”
Yuri, who had been preparing to kick, scratched the back of her head and lowered her foot.
“This is kind of embarrassing.”