Chapter 7
The Cardenos family head's office.
Valdemar was reviewing documents detailing the estate's tax revenue.
A memory suddenly came to mind, and Valdemar stared into the fireplace.
Gazing at the burning embers, he sank into deep thought.
There was only one thing troubling his mind.
The bizarre things Astin had shown in such a short time.
Defeating the apprentice knights thirty times in a row.
Suddenly suggesting that his father go hunting with him, despite having kept him at a distance.
Even declaring the broken engagement first to Azeline, who had begged and pleaded with him so desperately.
He hadn't even withdrawn that statement.
"What could have made him change overnight?"
It was clearly a good thing.
How many times had he wished for the boy to come to his senses? It seemed that wish had been granted.
It was just that the cause remained a mystery, since he couldn't put his finger on it.
His continuing thoughts reached a single remark Astin had made.
-I will weave a solar ring.
Solar, the solar ring.
It was nothing more than a forgotten ballad of knights, sung decades ago.
In reality, the only ones who had rings within them were those who had 'survived until now.'
The old ghosts had simply refused to let go of their stubborn pride.
Knights who walked the Path laughed at those who wove rings.
Backroom old men. Ghosts of the past. Foolish men who couldn't walk the Path and merely went round and round, trapped within their rings.
They weren't wrong.
Solar's ceiling was certainly high.
A Swordmaster with seven rings and a Swordmaster who had opened seven mana circuits.
If the two engaged in a fight to the death, the ring knight would win nine times out of ten. Their firepower was simply on another level.
Yet there were only two living ring Swordmasters on the entire continent.
In contrast, there were ten Swordmasters who walked the Path. Three of them had already opened eight Paths, no less.
Solar's high ceiling was nothing more than a theoretical facade.
Unlike Luna, not a single knight in history had ever woven eight rings.
"Knights of the ring are no different from moths. They are bewitched by the flames and hasten their own deaths."
Ring knights tended to die young. That was the price of carrying a raging fire inside their bodies.
There had originally been three Swordmasters with seven rings, but one had died suddenly not long ago, reducing the number to two.
Weaving a solar ring meant walking through flames.
That was the decisive reason Solar had faded into the pages of history.
-If you take the easy path, you'll only become a mediocre knight. So I'll take the difficult one.
Astin's words had merit. More than merit—they were justified.
A solar ring was a scar laid over a scar.
There was always something to learn from wounds.
Cardenos's Black Lion symbol was based on the solar ring for the same reason.
Since weaving each ring meant risking one's life, the ancestors urged their descendants to weave rings.
A family carried on by children who had survived the brink of death.
That was Cardenos.
That was why Cardenos had maintained its standing to this day.
Thump-
Valdemar placed a hand over his chest.
A heart that had lain cold for so long gave a beat.
He remembered the first time he had woven a ring as a child.
He had run around, bouncing with excitement, showing it off to his family.
He remembered when he had woven six rings.
He hadn't let it show, wanting to preserve the dignity of the family head, but he hadn't slept properly all day.
The afterglow of that day now lifted the corners of Valdemar's mouth.
"I thought it had gone out."
A brief laugh slipped through the sound of the logs burning away.
Had the knight's ember, which he thought had died down, still remained?
His sentimental reverie lasted only a moment.
Valdemar's eyes turned cold.
Theory and instinct were different. Romance and reality were different.
Valdemar had long since ridden the currents of the new era.
The family head's reputation was inseparable from the family's prestige.
Being mocked like his old comrades was something he could not allow to happen.
What kind of knight was Valdemar now?
A Swordmaster who had opened seven mana circuits and commanded the respect of all the knights. The Black Lion of Cardenos, keeping pace with the times.
He certainly respected his son's choice.
But respect was all it was; his prevailing opinion was that it was foolish.
"Astin. You'll come to acknowledge it soon enough."
Valdemar regarded his son's bold declaration as half bluster.
It was true Astin had changed 180 degrees in a matter of days.
But that was as far as it went.
There was an enormous difference between making a decision and putting it into action.
And the difference between putting it into action and succeeding was as vast as heaven and earth.
'With that resolve in him, attempting to put it into action isn't unreasonable.'
He might try to kindle the ember, even if he had to force it.
He expected nothing beyond that.
Luna had coiled itself within Astin's core.
To weave a solar ring of the exact opposite nature by breaking through that enormous repulsive force?
It was, without exaggeration, a suicidal act with his life as collateral.
'There is no chance he'll succeed.'
Valdemar reached a merciless conclusion.
Astin would give up halfway through. It would actually be a blessing if he did.
If he refused to give up until the end, he might be roasted to death by the heat blazing from within.
Even knowing that, Valdemar did not try to stop him.
Was he trying to test his son's qualifications by driving him to the brink of death, as the old ancestors had done?
He didn't know.
But...
"My son. Just don't die. There is nothing to be learned from death."
He supposed he was softer than his ancestors.
Valdemar swallowed his worry and picked up the documents.
***
Fwoosh-!
Flames rose over the dagger's blade.
The shimmering heat warmed the air in the room.
It was a fundamentally different sensation from handling Luna.
The raw heat itself was being controlled entirely according to my will.
"Okay. Perfect."
The solar ring pulsed steadily.
A day had passed, so the aftereffects of the Heart Demon should have completely faded as well.
I twisted my stiff neck from side to side and threw open the door.
Cool air filled my lungs.
After being cooped up in my room all day, I felt as though every joint in my body ached.
I strolled leisurely down the marble corridor, feeling refreshed.
"G-good morning, Young Master!"
"Oh, yeah."
"Young Master! You look so refined today!"
"I told you, you don't have to flatter me."
Every servant I passed bowed their heads with great deference.
Maybe it was because of their old impression of me as a wastrel, or because yesterday's reception-room rumor had spread.
I wasn't sure which, and I didn't care to know.
As I walked along absentmindedly, my gaze drifted out the window.
A massive iron gate opened, and a carriage was entering.
"Tsk—this looks vaguely familiar."
It wasn't a carriage bearing the Black Lion crest etched into it.
It had a rather luxurious exterior and a peacock crest.
What was it? Which family did that belong to again?
I racked my memory as I looked out the window.
"Y-young master!"
Urgent footsteps rang out from the far end of the corridor.
An unknown attendant came rushing toward me, panting.
"What now? What is it this time?"
"I-I have something to tell you... Huh? Th-there, already!?"
I turned back toward the window, following the attendant's gesture.
Just then, the carriage that had stopped in front of the main gate began to open its door.
"Aha."
Azeline emerged from it, displaying the hem of a splendid dress.
A rough male hand rested atop hers.
A red-haired man who had gotten out of the carriage first was escorting Azeline.
Handsome, with a pretty-boy face. An upright posture and a smile brimming with youthful charm.
The male lead of the secondary romance and the fallen noble knight Azeline cherished above all else. Julian.
"Young master? What should we do? Shall I bring them inside? Or should we turn them away at the door...?"
It was only yesterday that I'd warned her about the affair.
'So they're coming straight at me?'
Well, it was what I'd expected.
I would have been disappointed if they hadn't.
"No. They're guests who've come all this way. We should welcome them."
I hurried outside.
Several attendants were already waiting beyond the main gate.
The attendants, who had been gathered in small groups and whispering, all fixed their eyes on me.
Faces filled with bewilderment and tension.
They looked as though they expected me to erupt in anger at any moment.
I calmly walked out among the attendants.
The pair, walking close together some distance away, stopped when they saw me.
Julian stepped forward with a sly, ingratiating smile.
"Pardon the intrusion, Sir Astin. Do you remember me?"
"Of course I do."
I scratched my chin and looked him up and down.
"You're Julian. The fallen noble who couldn't even meet my eyes when we attended the Academy. What was your surname again?"
"Calvert. Have you forgotten?"
"Why would I remember it? A fallen house not even listed in the noble register."
A crack split Julian's fake mask.
Azeline's expression was even more satisfying to look at.
It twisted into a vicious scowl, as if she might bite me at any moment.
A star-crossed couple thwarted by an engagement, with a disposable villain standing in their way.
For now, I played along with their tune.
"Sir Astin. You are going too far."
"Did I say anything untrue?"
"In that case, I shall change the form of address as well. Young Master Astin."
"Suit yourself. Sir or Young Master, I couldn't care less."
I snorted like a third-rate villain.
"Anyway. What brings the two of you here? Did you come to grovel and say yesterday was all a misunderstanding?"
Julian and Azeline exchanged sidelong glances.
Significant looks passed between them, and then Julian, his face set with determination, hid Azeline behind him.
"Young Master Astin. I have a formal proposal for you."
Swish-
Julian reached into his coat. His hand moved with considerable solemnity.
"That's a glove."
"...!"
The hand rummaging inside his coat froze in place.
"You came to challenge me to a duel with Azeline as the prize. H-how did you know? That's exactly the face you're making. Your thoughts are written all over you."
"......."
"Not denying it, I see."
Julian finally pulled out a white glove.
Fwoop!
The glove struck me in the chest and slid downward.
"Julian, the White-Winged Knight, formally challenges you to a duel."
"White-Winged Knight? Well, look at the angel."
He's making such a damn spectacle of himself. My eyes are aching just looking at him.
I snatched the glove before it could fall at my feet.
"What if I refuse?"
"I don't believe Cardenos's eldest son would run from a duel with a fallen noble."
"So what if I tell you to shove your reputation and everything else up your ass?"
"How could you say something so vulgar!"
The words came from Azeline's lips.
"Maintain your dignity, Astin. Realize that a single word from you can damage the family's prestige."
"I don't think a slut who gave her body and heart to another man has any room to talk."
"Astin! Mind your tongue!"
Julian cut in when I insulted Azeline.
They really were made for each other.
I shrugged as obnoxiously as I could.
"Do we have to drag this out?"
I walked past them and jerked my chin toward the training ground inside.
"Come on. Let's have a go."
***
"A duel! The young master is going to duel!"
The rumor spread through the estate and beyond like wildfire.
A live-blade duel between Astin and Julian.
At the news, knights in training and servants flocked to the training ground like a herd of sheep.
Once the full story between the two had spread, the mood split sharply in two.
"Oh my, that's Sir Julian, isn't it? Isn't he incredibly handsome?"
"He's trying to win love even in the face of an arranged marriage! It's just like a romance novel!"
Red-cheeked maids whispered among themselves.
A pretty-faced knight from a fallen house.
The story of Julian taking up his sword for a young lady bound by an arranged marriage was more than enough to stir the girls' romantic fantasies.
Of course, the reaction of the knights surrounding the training ground was the exact opposite.
"What does that pretty-boy bastard think an arranged marriage is?"
"He barges into someone else's front yard and tries to steal the young master's fiancée? What the hell does romance have to do with this? It's an insult to Cardenos!"
The challenge itself was an act that besmirched the name of Cardenos.
From the moment he arrived here, Julian became the knights' public enemy.
Moreover, the Black Lion Knights had witnessed Astin's thirty consecutive victories with their own eyes only recently.
To men who revered martial prowess, Astin was no longer the wastrel he had once been.
"Young Master! Flatten that arrogant nose!"
"Show him the sword of Cardenos! Don't let your guard down!"
Even in the face of such blatant hostility, Julian's expression remained unchanged.
A fallen noble house. His fortune had been completely wiped out. The only thing worth sparing about that man was his face.
Julian had endured countless looks and judgments that held him in contempt.
He had always been the underdog, the weaker party.
In other words, he had worked his hardest to claw his way up from the bottom.
And there was one woman who recognized those efforts.
Julian turned his head.
He saw Azeline watching him among the onlookers, her face anxious.
Julian flashed her a bright smile. He whispered silently, shaping the words with his lips.
[I'll be sure to come back.]
!
Tears welled up in Azeline's eyes.
She pressed her lips together and gently nodded.
A Cardenos knight serving as the witness walked out to the center.
"The duel will be fought with swords alone, without the use of aura. Do you agree?"
""I agree.""
"The duel will be conducted as a nonlethal duel, not a fight to the death. If either party inflicts an irreparable wound on the other's body or cripples the opponent, it will count as a defeat. Do you agree?"
""I agree.""
"The loser of the duel must accept the following terms. If Young Master Astin loses, he must dissolve the engagement himself. If Sir Julian loses, he must give up Lady Azeline and bear an indelible disgrace. Do you agree?"
""I agree.""
"The duel will continue until one side surrenders or becomes incapable of fighting. The starting signal is the moment the coin touches the ground."
Julian rested a hand on the pommel at his side and glared at Astin.
Crack!
That shameless face.
Recalling all the misdeeds Astin had committed over the years made his teeth grind.
"Do you know why you are standing here?"
"Why?"
"Because you think money and power can buy you anything."
Azeline was a pitiful woman.
A woman who longed for love but had never received true love.
Without understanding Azeline's true feelings, that man had bound her for years by invoking their engagement.
"You cannot win love with your family's money and connections. Azeline is not a vulgar materialist like you. She is simply a woman who wants to receive genuine love."
"What are you talking about? She was the one who said she wanted a ring and a dress as a gift."
"She only said that because she was trying to placate you."
Julian believed he himself was different from Astin.
Once this duel ended, Julian would return to Azeline.
He would love Azeline openly, without hiding any longer.
"Azeline told me. She said you defeated thirty apprentice knights."
Of course, it was a baseless rumor. Azeline had said so too.
"Do you think dressing it up like that changes what you are? Do you think people look up to you? Astin, you are a man who cannot live without lies and deceit."
At the Academy, too, Astin had been rumored to be a halfwit.
A womanizer, a wastrel, a swindler, a good-for-nothing.
He wore every kind of disgrace like a label and felt no shame. He didn't even try to change.
He simply rampaged around, relying on the value of his family name.
"This entire tragedy is your problem alone. Learn from today's lesson."
"Do you fight with that tongue of yours?"
"...Ha."
Julian's jaw trembled.
Shing!
He drew his sword irritably.
Astin lightly gripped his sword hilt in turn.
At Astin's signal, the witness flicked a silver coin into the air with his thumb.
Ting-!
With a clear chime, the coin soared into the air.
The silver coin spun, reflecting the sunlight, and traced a parabola.
Tap-!
Taking the scraping sound as his signal, Julian charged, kicking up clouds of dust.
Julian was an elite who contended for top honors in the Academy's Practical Swordsmanship Department.
At his breakneck speed, the knights unconsciously sucked in startled breaths.
As though he had grown wings, Julian leaped nearly ten meters in a single step.
Whoosh!
A trajectory faster than a bird's flight and more fluid than a snake's.
It was the moment Julian's sword aimed at his opponent's side.
Clang—!!
A metallic crash rang out, battering the eardrums.
Along with it, a sword spun round and round through the air.
Chiiing....
The sword that had fallen flat against the ground trembled faintly.
Gasp!
The maids watching gaped, while the knights stared at Julian in bewilderment.
"So this is the White-Winged Knight."
Julian looked back and forth between his sword and Astin, his pupils trembling.
Astin sneered at that dazed face.
"Looks like the wings belong to the sword, not you. It's flying around just fine."
"Kuh...!"
Julian's complexion flushed red, then purple.
His mind couldn't process what had just happened.
Astin had merely tapped him carelessly, yet the strength had left his grip.
And when he came to his senses, this was the result.
"What are you doing? Go pick it up."
Astin pointed with the tip of his sword to where Julian's sword had fallen.
"I'm giving you a chance. If it ends like this, you'll only lose face. You should at least struggle before it ends, don't you think?"
It wasn't mercy, but mockery.
Julian bit down on his lip as though trying to crush it.
'I made a mistake. I let my guard down. My hand just slipped.'
There were plenty of explanations he could pin it on: coincidence, a mistake, a fluke.
Having finished rationalizing it to himself, Julian picked up his sword.
In the meantime, Astin turned his gaze toward the witness.
"Now that I've crossed swords with him myself, I know. Even if that guy dies and comes back to life, he can't beat me with a sword. This isn't fun, and it won't be moving either. How about we let each other use aura?"
"Well... there'd be no problem if the other party agrees."
Astin gazed at Julian. A look asking for his consent.
A deep suspicion flashed through Julian's mind.
'Why suggest using aura all of a sudden?'
His thoughts began racing.
In truth, Julian's strength lay in his aura, not his swordsmanship.
Julian was a rare, peerless genius who had opened three Paths at a young age.
Astin, on the other hand, was a third-rate knight who had opened only two Paths.
If it came down to an aura battle, Julian had an overwhelming advantage in total quantity and density.
But why? He simply couldn't put his finger on the reason.
Julian had no choice but to set his doubts aside.
"I agree, but are you sure?"
Vwoom—!
A chill aura wrapped around the blade, ominously building in force.
The blue mana circuits running from Julian's core to his right arm, left arm, and lower dantian—the three circuits—began to glow brightly.
"What are you talking about?! That man isn't even old enough to have reached twenty!"
"He opened three Paths at that age...? That's on par with our captain in his youth!"
"Young Master! Withdraw your statement while you still can! He's no ordinary man!"
The faces of knights who had been euphoric moments ago were instantly colored with unease.
Regardless.
Astin tightened his grip on the sword hilt until it seemed ready to break and sank into his inner world.
Fwoosh—!!
What surged up along the blade was not the cool light of moonlight.
It was a brilliant, ferocious flame, as though fragments of the sun had been cut up and inserted into it.
The searing hellfire devoured the training ground's air in an instant. Suffocating heat spread in every direction.
At the same time.
A crimson-gold ring radiated a brilliant light near Astin's heart.
A perfectly circular flame: the solar ring.
A silent uproar swept through the training ground.
In the silence, everyone's shock burst forth.
Knights rubbed their eyes, unable to believe them; Azeline blinked repeatedly; and Julian stood with his mouth hanging open in a perfect circle.
Celine, who had learned of the news later than everyone else, came running breathlessly before stopping short.
Everyone in the training ground expressed shock in their own way.
Astin tilted his head toward the gaze he felt from above.
When he looked there, a snort of laughter escaped him.
'It's too early for you to be surprised.'
A pair of eyes visible through an arched window.
Valdemar was watching him with an expression utterly out of character for him.