The Way of KnightChapter 14 – Trial of Blood in Helbrecht's HallThe Beginning of the Duel
That morning, the training yard of Helbrecht Castle was filled with minor nobles, retainers, and even a handful of elite knights. They had gathered not just to watch a duel, but to measure the worth of a boy whose name had begun to spread—Fenrir Eisenwald.
In the center of the stone-paved arena, Marquis Helbrecht sat in the seat of honor, a sly smile tugging at his lips, eyes brimming with anticipation. Beside him stood a towering man clad in heavy armor, radiating the oppressive aura of a battlefield veteran.
"Fenrir Eisenwald," Helbrecht's voice echoed, "today you will prove whether you are a cub destined to be a wolf—or just a puppy yapping at lions. Your opponent is one of my finest knights, Sir Albrecht von Grauwolf."
The man stepped forward. Nearly two meters tall, muscles like forged steel, his face scarred by a brutal past. Each step seemed to shake the ground.
Fenrir's breath hitched. So this is my trial… against a war-hardened veteran.
Status Panel – Enemy
🔻 [Enemy Status] 🔻
Name: Sir Albrecht von Grauwolf
Title: Iron Fang of Helbrecht
Age: 32
Level: 12
EXP: 18,400 / 22,000
Aura: 128
Stamina: 155
Strength: 142
Cunning: 68
Charisma: 35
Mental Fortitude: 95
Skills:
[Aura Weapon Mastery Lv.2] – Enhances weapon with hardened aura. [Heavy Swordsmanship Lv.3] – Specializes in overwhelming, crushing blows. [Intimidation Lv.2] – Lowers enemy morale within a short radius. [Battlefield Instinct Lv.2] – Reads enemy motions in close quarters.
Trait:Iron Will – Immune to fear, highly resistant to mental attacks.
Whispers spread among the nobles:
"Impossible… that child will fight Grauwolf?"
"This isn't a duel—it's an execution."
"The Marquis is cunning. If the boy dies, no one will care."
Fenrir stood at the opposite end of the arena, drawing his plain steel blade—no relic, no artifact, just iron polished by his father Geralt the night before. Yet in his eyes, a steady flame refused to dim.
Status Panel – Fenrir (Post-Training Update)
🔻 [Fenrir's Status – Pre-Duel] 🔻
Name: Fenrir Eisenwald
Title: Wolf Cub of Eisenwald
Age: 13
Level: 4
EXP: 1700 / 2500
Aura: 48
Stamina: 55
Strength: 34
Cunning: 60
Charisma: 44
Mental Fortitude: 52
Skills:
[Aura Control Lv.2] – Channels aura more effectively into strikes. [Swordsmanship Lv.2] – Sharper, faster sword techniques. [Leadership Lv.2] – Grants +10% morale to small units. [Tactical Instinct Lv.2] – Anticipates enemy moves with limited accuracy. [Adaptive Focus] (Passive) – Concentration sharpens under pressure.
Trait: [Wounds That Shape] – Transforms war trauma into mental growth.
The gong rang. Sir Albrecht lifted his massive blade—wider than Fenrir's chest. A single swing cracked the ground, the air splitting as if thunder struck.
Fenrir dove aside. The knight's strike shattered stone, leaving a crater. The crowd roared.
"One swing could cleave a horse in half!"
Fenrir's heart pounded. I can't meet him head-on. I'll need speed and wits to survive.
He darted forward, thrusting for the gap beneath Albrecht's arm. But the knight turned fluidly, aura flaring along his blade. Steel clashed against aura, sparking light.
"A clever cub," Grauwolf muttered. "But cleverness won't save you from true power."
Fenrir retreated, steadying his breath. That strength… monstrous. But with stamina that large, he'll burn energy quickly. If I drag this out, his swings will slow.
Grauwolf charged, unleashing a three-strike combo, each swing enough to crush bone. Fenrir tapped into [Tactical Instinct Lv.2], predicting the sequence and slipping under the final blow. The knight's sword whistled just over his head, nearly grazing his hair.
The audience gasped.
"He… he read Grauwolf's movements!"
"No way! That's the instinct of veterans—how can a boy do that?"
Fenrir smirked faintly. Sun Tzu's lesson: When the enemy is strong, wear him down. When the enemy is enraged, drain him further.
After a dozen exchanges, Fenrir's body burned, aura surging wildly. He decided to gamble. Aura wrapped around his plain sword, faint but steady.
Grauwolf's eyes glinted. "So, you too wield aura. Interesting."
Their blades collided, aura clashing like storm and flame. The impact rang like a bell across the yard. Fenrir staggered back, arms numb, yet he held firm.
Grauwolf gave him a measure of respect. "You are no ordinary brat. But the gulf between us remains vast."
Fenrir spat a thin line of blood. "A gulf can be crossed… with will."
Grauwolf roared, unleashing his full aura. His blade blazed like molten iron, the ground trembling. Nobles flinched back in fear from the sheer pressure.
Fenrir closed his eyes for a heartbeat. [Adaptive Focus] ignited. The world shrank—noise dulled, breaths slowed. Only rhythm and instinct remained.
When the colossal sword descended, Fenrir pivoted, slipping past by inches. His counterstrike pierced the narrow seam in Grauwolf's armor. The blade drew blood.
The arena erupted. "He… he wounded Grauwolf!"
The knight froze, then burst into booming laughter. "A scratch… yet it awakens my blood. You are worthy of being called a wolf cub, Eisenwald!"
Fenrir's chest heaved, his legs trembling, yet his sword remained lifted. I may not win this fight, but I have proven one truth—I am no puppy.
Before the duel could continue, Marquis Helbrecht raised his hand. "Enough!"
The yard fell silent. Helbrecht's smile widened.
"Fenrir Eisenwald… you have shown your fangs. I acknowledge your courage."
Fenrir bowed faintly, body quivering yet gaze unyielding. Deep inside, he knew: Today, I did not claim victory. But neither did I lose. I opened the eyes of nobles who once saw only a poor baron's son.
#wanD48