Chapter 169
Episode 56: The Sculptor of Chaos (Part 4)
Of course, it was a blatant lie. With Vishkel openly showing his displeasure, there was no other choice.
‘Vishkel Ibriano is the kind of person who becomes a headache if even once he suspects something. I need to tell a story he can actually believe…’
Vishkel tilted his head, shaking it slightly, his sharp eyes gleaming.
“So, you didn’t come for Bubar, but to see me?”
“Yes.”
“For what reason… Ah, no way.”
Jin’s expression darkened with a provocative glare. Watching that, Vishkel smirked with interest.
“You wanted to challenge me as a prospective knight?”
Not a bad reaction.
“I’m embarrassed to admit it, but yes. Given my status, I couldn’t just show up at the Ibriano estate without an invitation, so I first sought out Bubar, whom Lady Margiela introduced as ‘our friend.’”
At the phrase ‘our friend,’ Vishkel’s eyebrows twitched.
“Ah, so you tried to reach me through Bubar.”
Vishkel didn’t ask how Jin knew the location of this workshop. He assumed that Runcandel had already investigated Bubar’s background after the duel at the banquet.
“The part about making a bust of my father isn’t a lie either. If I’d known Bubar was the finest sculptor in this city of art, I wouldn’t have spent the whole afternoon wandering the workshop district.”
A brief silence fell.
Jin’s lie was hard to discern, but he showed no sign of it. Vishkel pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
Click. The match flared, smoke curling into the air.
Vishkel spoke again only after the cigarette had burned halfway down, gathering his thoughts on Jin’s sudden visit.
“…That duel with you, Lord Jin, was a memorable event for me as well. I was looking forward to facing you again.”
“I appreciate the compliment.”
“But I don’t think now is the right time.”
“Why not now?”
“Because, to put it bluntly, you’re like a budding flower—I can’t just trample it. As a senior, I’ll give you one piece of advice: excessive passion is always poison.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Jin’s eyes.
‘Look at that…’
Though the duel request began with a lie, there was no need to be dismissed so lightly.
Of course, Jin had no intention of reacting rashly.
“Since becoming a prospective knight, I’ve fought many opponents. But perhaps due to their lack, I’ve never felt the desperate edge I did when dueling you, Sir Vishkel. That sensation of unleashing the true spirit of the sword.”
“Do not mistake a fleeting glimpse of mastery for your own, Lord Jin.”
“That fleeting glimpse nearly caused an upset in our duel.”
The provocation grew sharper.
Still, Jin didn’t believe Vishkel would actually fight him.
‘He’s not the type to fall for such provocations, and there’s nothing to gain from fighting me.’
Vishkel was an 8-star, while Jin was known as a 5-star at the time of the banquet—a vast gap between them.
Yet Vishkel had noticed, in the year and a half since, that Jin’s achievements were no small feat. Still, not enough to affect the outcome of a fight.
Haah.
Vishkel crushed the cigarette and sighed.
“Enough, Lord Jin. I don’t want to waste energy on pointless matters. Besides, I’m here to rest. Don’t you think this is a bit rude?”
“I apologize for that.”
Whoosh!
Suddenly, Vishkel formed a palm-sized blade of aura and sliced through Jin’s bangs.
Before the blade’s trail vanished, before a few strands of hair even hit the floor, he swung again, severing the cut hair in two—a display of his skill.
Jin flinched a half-beat late, a chill running down his spine. Even Bubar’s eyes went wide, thinking Vishkel had just slashed Jin’s throat.
“This is to show you, in case you didn’t understand. If you can’t react to a surprise attack like this, how can a duel even be valid?”
A fair point.
Except Jin had deliberately held back his reaction.
‘I almost reflexively dodged. That was chilling. If I had, we really would have ended up dueling Vishkel.’
That was the last thing Jin wanted. His provocations were only to avoid suspicion and keep Yona out of trouble.
If a duel really happened, Jin would either lose using only swordsmanship or have to reveal his hidden power. Neither outcome was desirable.
‘Luckily, he doesn’t realize I purposely didn’t dodge.’
Still, it was an impressive ambush, enough to make Jin tense up. A sharp, clean response that ended the matter neatly.
Hmm! Bubar clicked his tongue regretfully.
“Why didn’t you just cut that arrogant brat down, Sir Vishkel? It must have felt so satisfying.”
“Bubar, please, enough. What will you do if Lord Jin becomes a knight someday?”
“That guy will die before he becomes a knight. Just look at how recklessly he challenges Sir Vishkel. He thinks being from Runcandel means he’s better than everyone else…”
“Bubar Gaston.”
Jin spun around and approached, making Bubar scowl.
“What? What?”
“How do you really plan to handle this?”
“Hmph. Do you think I’m scared?”
Swish!
Jin pointed his sword, Bradamante, at him.
“Lord Jin?”
“I admit my arrogance and rudeness, Sir Vishkel. I’m still just a novice unworthy to cross blades with you. But this friend insulting Runcandel—that’s a different matter entirely…”
This time, the murderous intent was genuine. Bubar flinched and scrambled to hide behind Vishkel.
“Take one step and I’ll cut you down, Bubar.”
“Lord Jin, please stop.”
“Will you stand idly by while the Ibriano family is insulted before your eyes?”
Vishkel couldn’t answer. It was true that Bubar had insulted Runcandel.
“I tolerated Bubar’s insults because I saw your face, but to drag Runcandel’s name into this? That’s madness.”
With the situation escalating, Bubar fell silent, instinctively realizing that moving would mean death.
“Ha, I understand. But if that’s the case, I have no choice but to stop you.”
“Do as you must.”
“And if you die because of it?”
“Even if I die, I’ll cut that bastard down and protect Runcandel’s honor. Of course, as a prospective knight, my family won’t seek revenge against you.”
“If you kill Bubar, I will kill you. Then what good is it that you died protecting Runcandel’s honor?”
“Even if my family never learns of this, I won’t be ashamed of myself. That’s enough.”
“Must it come to this?”
For the first time, Vishkel shouted.
‘Damn it! It’s my fault for not shutting that damn mouth. Judging by Lord Jin’s attitude, this is no bluff.’
What to do?
A cold sweat trickled down Vishkel’s neck. Though he wanted to kill Bubar more than anyone, the man had to live until Kinzel’s grand plan was complete.
Blocking them clumsily was impossible—the distance between Bubar and Jin was too close. To stop Jin before he swung his sword, Vishkel would have to sever an arm or cut a throat.
But cutting an arm was out of the question.
Vishkel only wore a belt at his waist. Before Jin arrived, he’d been in the workshop’s basement, eating sweet potato croquettes with Bubar, so he hadn’t drawn his sword.
Even if he formed a blade of aura like when he cut Jin’s hair, such a small blade wouldn’t suffice.
To sever an arm, he’d need a blade at least the size of a longsword—but then Bubar’s neck would be cut first. In other words, Vishkel’s only real option was to cut Jin’s throat to stop him.
‘If Jin Runcandel dies, will Sir Shiron really stay silent?’
Shiron wouldn’t retaliate if Vishkel killed Jin.
Though he cared for Jin, if the head of the family retaliated for a prospective knight, it would be a direct denial of tradition.
But Vishkel couldn’t be sure. If rumors spread that the Ibriano family killed the youngest son, the star of the Runcandel banquet since Luna…
The Ibriano family—and Kinzel—might suffer.
Vishkel thought.
‘I can hide it. No, I can’t. Too many people saw the Lord’s face in the workshop district.’
Leaving the confused Vishkel behind, Jin spoke.
“I’ll count to three, Bubar. Kneel and apologize. One.”
“Kneel, Bubar!”
Vishkel shouted. If Bubar knelt, this dreadful incident could end without further trouble.
“Two.”
“Kneel…!”
Thud!
Bubar’s round knees hit the floor. Just as Vishkel was about to sigh in relief, Jin pressed the tip of his sword to Bubar’s neck.
“You did as I said…!”
“No. Now it’s time to apologize. I hope you have a convincing story before my hand slips.”
Watching Bubar tremble with rage and shame, Bishkel felt his insides burn black with frustration.
“I… messed up…”
Only then did Jin sheath his sword and smile.
“If it weren’t for Sir Bishkel, I would have killed him right after receiving his apology. That’s the proper way to deal with someone who insults Runkandel. You should be grateful, Sculptor.”
Then Jin approached Bishkel and bowed politely.
“My junior has been excessively rude in many ways, Sir Bishkel. If you wish, you may take it out on me until you feel better.”
Bishkel pressed his forehead tiredly.
“…They say Runkandel is fiery, but this is the first time I’ve seen a Confucius-like temper. There was nothing wrong with your punishment of Bubar. I salute you as the head of the Ibliano family.”
He was genuinely impressed.
‘It’s absurd and irritating, sure, but even among Runkandel’s true riders, few could act like this. Jin Runkandel keeps surprising me, even since the banquet.’
At the same time, he resolved to keep a tight leash on Bubar’s mouth whenever outsiders were around from now on.
“Just… let’s hope nothing like this happens again. Remember, the only reason I’m not harming you today is because of the mercy you showed Bubar.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Now, be on your way.”
As Jin left the sculpting workshop, Bishkel watched his retreating figure through the window for a while.
The moment Jin disappeared from sight, Bishkel muttered a string of curses under his breath.
Five swear words in a row. Bubar, who had been about to cling to Bishkel and complain, had no choice but to quietly retreat to the basement.
‘This is the first time I’ve seen Sir Bishkel this angry. Jin Runkandel, damn him. He must have been outrageously rude…!’
What Bubar didn’t realize, not even in his wildest dreams, was that Bishkel’s anger was directed not at Jin, but at himself.
Perhaps that’s why, when Bubar came back up to the first floor, his arms were full of sweet potato croquettes.
Rustle, rustle.
“Please have some of these and cheer up, Sir Bishkel. Ugh, that damn bastard won’t live out his days in peace, I swear.”