When Yuri staked his pride and provoked him, Zaire's face contorted. His clenched fist trembled violently. But Yuri had no intention of caring how hurt Zaire might feel.
The other had picked a fight first.
That arrogant attitude, as if he was certain of his own superiority, was revolting.
Yuri wanted to press a blade to his throat and make him cry right then and there.
Come to think of it, it had been a while since he last crossed swords properly with someone.
The last time he truly fought for his life had been in Okua.
Maybe it was a desire that had been long repressed.
With the corners of his mouth raised, Yuri spoke to Zaire's angry face.
"I'm busy, you know. That's why I was kind enough to slap you myself. Let's get this over with."
"Ha ha ha ha…"
Zaire laughed in disbelief. He looked down at Yuri with a vague smile, seeming to ponder something, then nodded.
"Very well."
Then he turned around.
"Follow me. Shaming a prince of a kingdom in the middle of the marketplace would tarnish my honor. I will duel you at the castle."
"Do you even know what honor is, with your pathetic status?"
Yuri scoffed openly and followed him.
The knights of Gatensha mirrored Zaire's fury, creating a menacing atmosphere.
Even if their lord was at fault, knights ultimately acted according to the direction given to them.
Yuri asked Jared, who was standing nearby.
"That's a nice perk. You should back me unconditionally like they do."
"Well…"
Jared looked rather displeased.
At any rate, they passed through the streets of Gatensha and arrived at the castle where Zaire resided.
Despite being only a count's castle, the architectural quality was impressive. He didn't like it, but he couldn't deny that the Empire was wealthy and advanced.
Zaire stopped in the middle of a wide open field outside the castle.
The ground was well-packed, with traces of boot prints scattered across it.
Zaire turned to Yuri.
"This is the knights' training ground. I believe this place will suffice."
Yuri stretched.
"Too few spectators. Why don't you call in some more?"
"You seem very confident."
"You're the one acting confident. Is it just because you're older and think that makes you stronger?"
"Training for knights is proportional to time."
He wasn't wrong, generally speaking.
It was because of the mana method.
The longer a knight trained, the more total mana they possessed, and the sharper their senses became in handling it. On top of that, they became more adept with the sword. Without any physical aging to hold them back, there was only room to grow stronger.
At a glance, Zaire was certainly capable.
He probably would have held his own quite well even among the Allied Army.
But that was as far as it went.
"Don't worry. I won't go easy on you."
"Good. I was wondering if I'd end up killing someone today."
"I wouldn't know. A sword has no eyes."
"Well, mine does."
With that, Yuri casually swung his sword to the side.
A snake crawling along the ground was sliced in half and writhed.
"You don't seem to maintain this place very well."
"Sharp senses."
Zaire drew his sword.
"Let's settle the matters of the previous generation here."
"Too bad the actual party doesn't have the courage, so now you're picking a fight with his son? That's all you've got to say?"
Yuri stepped forward, holding Guilty.
Somehow, he could understand now why his father had once beheaded a knight in Gatensha.
Yuri felt a visceral revulsion toward Zaire.
Their temperaments were completely incompatible.
Things Yuri saw as cowardly and dishonorable, Zaire dressed up as if they were noble, even trying to justify them with flimsy excuses.
What if Yuri had been weak?
He smirked.
The third prince of Briol would probably have been humiliated in Gatensha and mocked across the entire continent.
And Zaire was clearly hoping for that outcome.
"This must be inherited."
"What?"
"My father probably felt the same thing about your dead father."
"…."
Zaire's face hardened. Seeing that, Yuri burst into a refreshing laugh.
"Don't worry. I won't kill you."
"You're provoking me."
Zaire charged at Yuri.
He surged forward like a storm. He seemed to strike from above, then swept low, then came flying from the right only to switch directions and slash from the left.
Yuri backed away, blocking each attack.
He was fairly strong.
Yuri could see why he had confidently picked a fight.
A knight of Yuri's age, no matter how much they trained, would have a hard time standing against him.
Maybe Zaire had been quietly swallowing his rage all along, dreaming of revenge one day.
"Pity."
Amid the whirlwind of slashing blades, Yuri stabbed toward a single point that generated the flow.
A shattering sound echoed, and Zaire's onslaught came to a sudden stop.
He backed away, catching his breath, glaring at Yuri.
Zaire tilted his head slightly.
Then charged again.
Another rain of sword strikes fell upon Yuri. He dodged and blocked them all, then once again thrust his sword forward.
With another cracking sound, Zaire stumbled backward.
His eyes wavered.
"Now then…"
Yuri stepped forward. Zaire reflexively backed away. Yuri grinned and pointed to his feet.
"Running away?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
There was no longer any composure in Zaire's voice.
Yuri stared at the desperate flurry of sword strikes coming his way.
He could see every trajectory clearly.
No matter how many times Zaire attacked or twisted his path, it didn't matter.
The beginning and end of the strike were fixed from the moment the sword moved.
They started from Zaire's body, and aimed toward Yuri's.
So all Yuri had to do was push away the origin point.
"Guh!"
To an outsider, it would've looked absurd.
A fully grown knight wildly swinging his sword at a young man, only to be repeatedly startled and knocked back by the youth's casual thrusts — a scene that kept repeating.
But no one laughed.
Not even the knights from Briol who were on Yuri's side.
Especially Laurent, who wore a grim expression.
"Your Highness…"
He had thought that by winning the tournament, he'd finally caught up to Yuri a little.
Maybe not on the same level, but strong enough at least to not drag him down — maybe even be helpful.
But he was wrong.
Jared let out a hollow chuckle and muttered.
"That's just absurd…"
Everyone present thought the same.
Zaire, despite his disgraceful behavior, was by no means lacking in swordsmanship.
He had been renowned since youth, and by the time he passed thirty, had been considered a complete knight.
When evaluating the Empire's military strength, his name alone was counted among the few that could function as a singular unit of measure.
Yet here he was, being toyed with like a child.
"Yiaaaaaaah!"
Now Zaire was shouting as he lunged at Yuri.
Some of the knights of Gatensha looked up at the sky in disbelief, or dropped their heads to the ground.
"This is absurd!"
The composure he had pretended to show was now nowhere to be found.
Zaire burst forth with his mana method, attacking Yuri recklessly, as if in a frenzy.
Any other knight would have been caught up in that assault and reduced to pulp.
But the one he was facing now, Yuri Briol, blocked the attacks with ease.
The Third Prince's mana moved cunningly, almost as if it were alive.
He deflected the flying strikes at an angle, and even before a movement could begin, he would step an inch forward and suppress the release of power.
It looked like Zaire was attacking, but in truth, it was as if he were being manipulated by the will of his opponent.
A sense of dread filled Zaire's chest.
"This is absurd…"
He denied the reality.
The plan he had devised was this:
He would use his knights to provoke a confrontation. If Yuri endured the insult, he could be mocked and laughed at, and if not, Zaire would use it as justification to demand a duel and release his pent-up rage directly.
Even if Yuri had been part of the Allied Army, he was still, ultimately, just a kid.
Zaire was confident he could defeat Laurent, the tournament champion—so what could a Third Prince, whose war merits were rumored to be exaggerated, possibly do?
But then, something ridiculous happened.
No matter how fast a tree grew, it couldn't become a massive ancient oak in just ten years. So what in the world had happened?
At some point, the Third Prince of Briol began to feel like a demon. It was as if he were toying with him using some cunning deception.
Perhaps it had all been a trap laid by the Third Prince from the start.
All kinds of irrational thoughts surged through his mind.
Yuri Briol, who had stopped blocking and was now stepping forward, opened his mouth.
"Did the former lord of Gatensha never say anything to you?"
At those words, Zaire recalled the past.
After his father was beheaded, Zaire vowed revenge. But his grandfather had said this:
'Forget revenge. He's a monster of a different breed than you.'
Though he had resented it, Zaire had obeyed those words.
Fiore Briol was both one of the Ten Strongest and the king of a country.
There was nothing he could do.
Then today, news came that his son had arrived in Gatensha. He thought it was a chance granted by the heavens. Fiore had killed his father, so it would only be fair for him to humiliate Fiore's son—then things would be balanced.
But everything had gone awry.
Just like Fiore Briol, his son Yuri Briol was also a monster. That blood of the demonic sword had flowed into this child without losing a single drop of potency.
Then what about himself?
Zaire clenched his teeth.
"Cut the crap!"
His life had been a struggle to restore the honor of House Enekin.
He had trained with the sword to wash away his family's disgrace, and through that he became a renowned knight.
He couldn't accept that all that time had been for nothing.
Did bloodline determine everything from the start?
But no matter how hard he squeezed his mana method and swung his sword, it didn't reach.
It was too far.
"Zaire."
The Third Prince called out to him again.
Zaire snapped back irritably.
"Shut up!"
"Oh? Now you're speaking informally?"
"Shut it!"
"I asked, did the previous lord of Gatensha really say nothing?"
"What are you trying to say?"
The Third Prince stopped attacking.
Zaire, who had been pushed into a defensive corner, lowered his sword and panted for breath. Even holding the sword had become difficult. His opponent was like a feather drifting through the air—impossible to grasp even if he reached out.
The Third Prince rested his sword on his shoulder with a relaxed expression.
"I'm not picking a fight. I'm genuinely curious."
"What?"
"I heard from my father about what happened in Gatensha, too."
Zaire glared at him.
"So I was wondering how your side remembered it."
Zaire burst out laughing. It was a voice mixed with fury and madness.
"Fine, I'll tell you. He said not to even think about revenge because that monster was a different breed. If I had known you inherited your father's blood just as purely, I would've planned things differently. Well? Is that the answer you were hoping for?"
"Yeah, that explains a lot."
Hearing that, Yuri smiled and nodded.
"Inheritance is terrifying, isn't it?"
"What?"
"All three of us are the same."
Yuri recalled a moment from the past.
When he once asked his father, Fiore, about what had happened in Gatensha, Fiore had replied:
'I had no choice.'
That's how it had gone.
It was simply the natural flow of things.
Briol hadn't been weak enough for Enekin to act rashly, and Enekin hadn't been honorable enough for Briol to show mercy.
Now, the descendants of those two houses, carrying on those same natures, had crossed paths—and the same thing was repeating itself.
That was all there was to it.
If Zaire's grandfather had told him something else, if he had told him not to repeat the mistake his father had made, would Zaire have turned out to be a better person?
It was a meaningless thought.
The previous lord of Gatensha had been a petty man from the start.
'His own father pushed him forward.'
Brushing off Fiore's voice in his head, Yuri said,
"Zaire. Do you have a child?"
"What kind of nonsense is this now?"
"I'm just asking if you have one."
"I have a son."
"I see…"
With Guilty resting on his shoulder, Yuri approached Zaire. Since Yuri wasn't swinging his sword, Zaire didn't know how to respond and stood there awkwardly.
Suddenly, Yuri extended his hand.
"Let's shake."
"What?"
"I don't like you, and you don't like me either. You're that kind of guy."
"Are you mocking me?"
"No. I mean it's inevitable."
Yuri shook his outstretched hand. When Zaire hesitantly extended his own hand, Yuri immediately grabbed it.
An awkward handshake followed.
"With this, let's say Enekin and Briol have reconciled."
"What?"
"Tell your son that."
"What are you even saying…"
"Let's end it here."
Yuri immediately tossed Zaire's hand aside and turned away.
Zaire clutched his hand, staring blankly at Yuri Briol's retreating back.
Yuri waved a hand over his shoulder.
"Say that after a glorious duel, old grudges were set aside and the two houses became friends. How's that? Not bad, right?"
"Are you pitying me?"
"Stop speaking informally. If you don't want to die."
"I…"
"Thanks for the match."
Zaire watched silently as Yuri Briol walked away with his group.
An emotion too difficult to describe stirred within him.
It felt like defeat—yet also, somehow, not.
Suddenly, he missed his son.
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