Chapter 142
In the Holy City, there were areas inaccessible to those not invited.
The luxurious and spacious area, comparable to the Imperial Palace, was used by fewer than a hundred people, making it quiet and secluded, with rare encounters with strangers.
Silveryn and Erzsebet were walking through a long corridor in Flenche Square, named after the current Holy Maiden, engaging in light conversation.
Thanks to the soaring ceiling height, the golden evening sun penetrated straight through the corridor.
Silveryn's hair rippled and sparkled with each step.
Then, with a "wing" sound, a Stitch passed overhead. Though the sound was very faint, Silveryn noticed and glanced sideways, pretending not to care while secretly paying attention.
Erzsebet caught this subtle behavior and said, "Your heart seems to still be in Eternia."
Silveryn smoothly avoided Erzsebet's gaze.
"...My disciple's messages have become sparse lately."
Erzsebet smiled gently and said, "Children in their adjustment period naturally pour all their attention into their surroundings. That child will be fine."
"..."
"I never expected you would become so concerned."
"When I first brought him in, I didn't expect to become this attached."
Just then, an elderly man walked steadily from the opposite end of the corridor.
White hair and beard. His sturdy frame and straight limbs made him appear not at all old. He bowed slightly in respect to Silveryn and Erzsebet as if he had been waiting for them.
It was Callios, the Empire's Sword Master known as the “White Lion”. He stopped about ten paces away.
"Ho ho, I never expected to meet the hero of the North again in this place."
Silveryn and Erzsebet returned the gesture with slight bows. They were already acquainted. First meeting on the northern battlefield, second at Damian's Masters Class examination.
Erzsebet spoke, "Good to see you again, Sword Master Callios."
Callios waved his hand dismissively.
"I'm too old now for such an embarrassing title. I plan to pass my position to a junior soon and focus on teaching. This old body was invited to the Holy City merely as a senior educator."
Erzsebet smiled and said, "We too were invited as educators."
"Ho ho, indeed. As I happen to have something to discuss, may I walk with you for a while?"
Erzsebet readily agreed. "By all means."
The three walked side by side down the corridor.
Erzsebet lightly asked first, "Are you still teaching in the Empire?"
"I've stepped away now. When I started, I believed I could raise anyone to the peak, but I realized that was an illusion and I too had limits."
"We empathize with that."
"They say a great sculptor doesn't create but uncovers what sleeps within the stone. I've deeply understood that saying. Choosing the right jade is crucial for the finest work. No matter how much you try to draw out potential from a pebble, it remains a pebble. I've wasted time trying to raise pebbles."
"None of that would have been meaningless."
His lament differed somewhat from reality. Some of Callios's disciples had gained fame across the continent. He was merely unsatisfied without a successor to follow him.
"I hope so. But I hear the Holy City has received a rare jade this time. Have you heard about Zeldan's successor?"
Silveryn said, "I've heard rumors of an interesting fellow causing quite a stir in the Order."
Callios walked with his hands behind his back as he spoke, "The Order seems to have chosen him as Zeldan's successor. This means they plan to reorganize the northern front around that boy and the next Holy Maiden."
And the role of nurturing Zeldan's successor would be entrusted to the Archmages and Sword Masters summoned this time.
"What are your thoughts, Sir Callios?"
"I've already met the boy at the Order's request. Even crossed swords with him once. Indeed, he was exceptional enough to turn the Order upside down. His fundamentals were flawless, and he had mastered numerous schools' sword techniques, freely adapting them to situations. They say he's never lost a single match against his peers. He showed the most outstanding potential among all who've passed through the Imperial Royal Academy."
"It's been a while since you've given such high praise, Sir Callios."
"Though I was reluctant due to the Order's unsightliness, I had to acknowledge it."
Erzsebet nodded slowly with a thoughtful expression.
"Interesting. You also judged the Masters Class examination. Could we hear your honest assessment of our Eternia's Damian?"
Callios heaved a heavy sigh and spoke with difficulty, "Hmm, here? You put me in a difficult position. I'll speak plainly. That boy's fundamentals are embarrassingly lacking. His fighting style is recklessly foolish. Not only that, his way of putting power into his sword doesn't even match a butcher's level. His excessive reliance on improvisation is also problematic."
Though he poured out criticism bordering on slander before Damian's direct master, Erzsebet, and Silveryn smiled without showing any displeasure.
Callios paused for a beat before continuing brightly, "Nevertheless, he showed the most marvelous talent I've seen in my life. I've held a sword my whole life, yet how can I not be ashamed that you found better jade than I?"
***
The knights gathered in a circle, forming a makeshift arena. It looked like a wolf pack surrounding young prey.
The man who had tripped Damian took off his helmet and threw it aside, revealing a scar running vertically from his cheek to his neck.
He traced the scar line with his finger and said, "I'll leave an even prettier mark on your face. Consider it a medal for your first life lesson."
Since this was a duel of honor, no one could be held responsible for injuries sustained during the fight.
"..."
Damian didn't respond to the provocation, simply drawing the sword Silveryn had given him and wiping the blade with a handkerchief.
The guard knights snickered at Damian's appearance. It was an impossible fight to win. The match was overwhelmingly one-sided from the start.
He was a complete novice, just starting his first semester as a first-year, while his opponent was an Imperial Royal Academy honors graduate with actual combat experience.
No matter how prestigious the continent's top academy might be, there were limits to age and experience. Eternia and the Imperial Academy held exchange tournaments. With accumulated experience, the Imperial Academy no longer put Eternia on a pedestal.
No matter how good, an Eternia first-year was no match.
He must have made such reckless provocations, puffed up by ignorance and backing from Eternia and Silveryn.
The guard knights had been subtly waiting for this situation. A youngster who acted disrespectfully toward their lord, and even went so far as to criticize the academy they belonged to. Damian had no allies here. In the world of knights, those who acted without knowing their place met death. This arrogant youth would learn a painful lesson.
After preparations, they faced each other three steps apart. At a sword's reach, they stared into each other's eyes.
The scarred man inwardly laughed at Damian's stance. His form was completely sloppy from the start.
The scarred man broke the standoff first, raising his sword and charging. Thus the duel began.
"Kyaaah!"
With a mighty battle cry, he slashed diagonally.
Clang!
Their swords met.
Damian's sword trembled slightly. It didn't take long to gauge skill. Swordsmen could feel it immediately upon crossing blades.
Damian seemed to be slightly overwhelmed in terms of strength.
"Reminds me of old times. I made your senior crawl on the ground during the exchange tournament too."
"..."
"If you bow down now, I might forgive you."
Damian merely received the sword with killing intent in his eyes, without responding.
The scarred man pressed his sword against Damian's, pushing him back. He retreated several steps without much resistance.
Before he could regain his stance, the scarred man charged again.
"Die!"
Clang! Clang!
Damian continuously blocked the powerful strikes. Though his reflexes were decent, he was gradually pushed back while focusing on defense.
"Do Eternia's professors only teach students to retreat?"
Damian was being pushed back toward the boundary line where the knights stood.
The spectators jeered and mocked at this sight.
From the momentum, it seemed the match would end without any surprises.
The scarred man swung his sword more violently, pressing his advantage.
Clang! Clang!
The swords clashed so hard sparks flew.
Though Damian was completely on the defensive, not a single decisive blow had landed.
The scarred man gritted his teeth.
Though he had clearly cornered him, Damian was blocking all his attacks with seemingly foundationless movements. And he absolutely refused to be pushed beyond the boundary line.
The watching knights' faces grew slightly tense.
"Die, die!"
The scarred man put so much force into it that veins stood out on his neck. Though his sword strikes grew faster with shorter intervals between clashes, Damian remained unscratched.
His enraged opponent completely abandoned defense and began slashing wildly like attacking a scarecrow.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Even these wild attacks that would have turned him to mincemeat if they'd hit, Damian defended against them all while moving along the boundary line like a tightrope walker.
It was like watching an enchanted acrobatic performance.
As all his attacks ended up either cutting air or being blocked, the color gradually drained from the man's face.
The tide of battle was slowly turning. Damian now seemed familiar with his attack patterns.
It could no longer be called one-sided in Damian's disfavor.
The spectators froze as they realized the duel was taking a strange turn.
Damian dodged a downward strike at his crown and kicked his opponent's solar plexus with his foot.
"Kuhek!"
The man coughed and bent over, stumbling backward.
The watching knights stared with expressions that seemed to say, “What did I just see?”
That kick was the first effective strike in this duel.
Damian now stepped forward.
The man clutched his chest and swung his sword in a large threatening arc.
"Huaah!"
Only his weak battle cry echoed through the air.
As the pain subsided slightly, the man lunged forward trying to catch Damian off guard.
Damian blocked his attack with his sword in one hand as if expecting it, deflecting it smoothly. Then he grabbed his own scabbard with his free hand and swung it like a club.
Whack!
The scabbard struck the man's wrist precisely.
"Arghhhh!"
His sword clattered to the ground, and the man rolled on the floor clutching his wrist.
The observers' jaws dropped at this sight.
Damian watched the rolling man, tucked his scabbard into his belt, and dusted off his hands.
In a real fight, the man's wrist would have been severed. The match was essentially over.
Damian turned to leave the dueling ground, seeming too bothered to even speak.
Then the scarred man crawled to pick up his fallen sword and shouted, "It's not over yet, you bastard!"
Before his words finished, something flashed through the air beside him.
Clang!
The sword Damian had been holding flew like an arrow and embedded itself in the helmet on the ground.
The blade had pierced exactly through the helmet's faceplate.
The scarred man froze halfway through standing up, staring at the pierced helmet in an awkward posture. His face showed he couldn't understand how it had been done.
Damian, who had been leaving, deliberately turned and stepped back into the dueling ground.
"You'll regret those words."
***
A soldier came running to Advisor Gerald's tent, armor clattering.
"L-Lord Gerald, you should see the commotion at the First Unit knights' camp."
Gerald replied dismissively while writing a letter to the Principality, "What's the matter?"
"The knights got into an argument and couldn't hold back, now they're dueling."
"Is that so special?"
During peaceful times, knights often sharpened their combat senses through informal sparring matches. Wasn't dueling just what knights typically did? It wasn't strange.
Moreover, he wondered why they brought to Gerald an issue that should end at the First Unit commander level. He was in a position to just receive after-action reports.
"Well... the Archmage's disciple and one of the guard knights got into a dispute and are having a duel."
Gerald stopped his work and showed interest.
"What? Where is the First Unit commander?"
"He went with Captain Nielin to escort Lady Bibi on her walk."
Gerald bit his lip. This was a major setback for Damian. Those who handled swords became like a wolf pack when they gathered. When someone didn't benefit the group or tried to blur the rules, they ostracized and tormented them playfully.
Damian seemed completely marked as an outcast from that wolf pack. Gerald needed to intervene directly. Not for the guard's sake, but for Damian's.
He stood abruptly and put on his coat.
"Guide me to where the duel is taking place immediately."
Gerald followed a soldier to the First Unit camp. Not even an ant could be seen around the neatly arranged tents and bubbling pots. In the distance, knights were clustered messily in an open space. This was where the duel was happening.
Yet the scene that should have been noisy was quiet as if doused with cold water. No jeers or mockery could be heard.
And in that silence, dull impact sounds spread.
Thud, thud, thud.
"What's going on? Everyone move aside!"
When Gerald shouted loudly, the knights hurriedly made way.
The scene appeared like a curtain call dropping.
At its center, a man was mounted on someone, viciously driving down his fists. Beside them was a sword stuck in a helmet, and blood spatters and bloodied fists could be seen on the ground.
Gerald pressed and released his eyes after seeing who was on top.
He hadn't seen wrong. It was Damian, inflicting one-sided violence on a guard knight.
When Gerald stood behind him, his fist stopped in mid-air as if sensing him. As if he knew who it was without looking back.
Damian dismounted slowly and stood up. Then he greeted Gerald with a gentlemanly gesture. With his blood-covered body, the greeting felt grotesque.
"You'll need to give me an acceptable explanation for this incident."
"I merely received a duel challenge from a guard knight and had no choice but to fight for my honor. As you can see, all these men are witnesses."
Gerald shouted at the watching knights, "A duel, was that true? Was there no deception or trickery?"
No one could answer. And for good reason—if it had been simple fistfighting, the knight's colleagues wouldn't have stood idle. This meant Damian had overwhelmed this knight with pure skill and beaten him to a pulp.
A student who had just started the first semester of his first year at Eternia.
It was hard to believe even seeing it with his own eyes.
The gathered knights also wore faces shocked by something they'd never experienced in their lives. They were thoroughly intimidated by a mere boy.
Damian looked up at Gerald. With killing intent still remaining, his eyes were closer to those of a beast than a human.
Damian said, "This duel has created a vacancy in the guard personnel. You'll need to find a more useful replacement to reinforce your fighting strength."
Though his tone was serious, it contained a hint of sarcasm. As if deliberately reminding them of his request to join the guard.
Gerald smoothly ignored Damian's subtle provocation.
"I'll gather more definite testimony and decide how to handle the two who caused this disturbance. Dismiss this gathering immediately and carry that fellow away for treatment."
The situation was quickly resolved. Gerald turned and left the scene.
Though he maintained a stern expression throughout his return, once inside his tent, a relieved smile crept across his face.