Trial by Duel.
Kaaang -!
Sparks flew alongside a metallic screech sharp enough to tear through the ears.
The target of the Meteor Sword I recreated was Delline's blade.
His sword, overflowing with mana, glowed blue.
"As expected, it didn't break through!"
The moment he blocked my strike, Delline charged forward.
I immediately leapt backward and shifted into a defensive stance.
No matter how exceptional my talent was, this frail body had never properly wielded a sword before.
Beating a knight like Delline with raw strength was impossible.
'If I try to block it head-on, my arm will be ruined. I need to deflect it somehow…!'
The moment I looked ahead with that thought—
"Ah, fuck. This won't work."
Whether he was flustered by the unexpected situation, or whether he had genuinely sensed danger from my sword,
Delline no longer wore his usual relaxed expression.
Instead, he swung his sword at me with a terrifyingly twisted face.
Kwoooaaang -!
The sound of swords clashing?
No, it was beyond that.
A deafening explosion rang out like a bomb detonating, and dust billowed across the training grounds.
"This…!"
"Young Master Delline! Have you forgotten this is a spar?!"
At Dunkel's shout, Delline suddenly snapped back to his senses.
"Damn it!"
Only then did he realize just how much mana he had poured into his sword.
Delline hastily threw the blade aside and rushed toward me.
"Klein! Are you alright?!"
Delline's urgent voice called out to me.
The mana from just moments ago was overwhelming beyond comparison.
The instant he blocked Meteor Sword, it must have burst out instinctively.
Crack!
A sound of destruction echoed out.
It came from my sword.
Craaash!
The completely shattered blade flew away and stabbed into the ground.
Compared to my sword, broken into pieces, Delline's blade did not even have a nick on it.
My defeat.
"Ah, my arm hurts like hell. I tried using a trick, but I guess it's still impossible for now."
I gave an awkward laugh as I said it, but the expressions on Delline's face—and Duke Heinkel's as well—only became stranger.
"Klein, you…?"
"Hah…!"
It was disappointing, but losing didn't really cost me anything.
That spar alone had already allowed me to engrave countless pieces of information into my head—Delline's sword path, techniques, and more.
On top of that, I had succeeded in making the family head, Heinkel, acknowledge my existence.
All that remained now was to wait for his decision.
While I was thinking that, Heinkel, who had been silently contemplating for a moment, slowly nodded.
"So this wasn't a reckless act born from childish impulse after all, Klein."
After saying that, Heinkel looked at me and spoke.
"Very well. Do as you wish."
"Thank you."
I answered with a smile.
Heinkel nodded once before turning around and heading back toward the mansion.
"Wait, Father! Klein's mana is—!"
"You should understand better than anyone after facing him yourself, Delline."
Heinkel cut off Delline's objection.
"That Meteor Sword just now. If it had contained mana, your sword would have been cut apart."
"But in the end, it still didn't break through. I should be the one to step in—!"
"Think about the position you stand in, Brother."
My firm words stopped Delline's protest cold.
"The Empire is constantly searching for chances to advance into the North, and the branch families have attached themselves to them. Meanwhile, the regional powers capable of keeping them in check are too divided to unite."
Delline frowned at my accurate summary of the current state of the North.
"And yet, there's only one reason we can still claim to rule the North."
Heinkel picked up where I left off.
"Because of me, who claims the title of the North's strongest. And because of you, who will succeed me. The moment even that disappears, Leinrant's authority collapses."
I nodded at Heinkel's explanation before speaking again.
"What do you think happens if you step into the trial by duel to save me?"
"That's…"
"It gives the branch family a legal opportunity to kill Leinrant's heir."
Unable to refute me, Delline lowered his head.
I could see his tightly clenched fists trembling.
'It must be frustrating. Being chained down, unable to do anything because of the title of heir.'
Without a word, I patted Delline's shoulder.
"My life alone isn't that great a loss anyway. Just trust me this once."
A second son with no political foundation—
Just as I said that and tried to walk past him—
"It is a great loss!"
This time, Delline's shout stopped me in my tracks.
Still facing away from him, I turned my head slightly.
Delline, his face twisted into a frown, spoke toward me.
"Don't think your life has no value."
His voice was rigid and firm.
For a moment, I had no response.
"At least I've never thought of you that way."
The words he said next made me let out a hollow laugh.
'Seriously… he's exactly like that bastard Berkel.'
That unwavering gaze held not the slightest hesitation or doubt.
Unlike me, he truly was the descendant of a hero.
"Father Garrison hasn't been coming around lately~"
Noon on the day of the duel.
As I prepared to head to the training grounds, I glanced at Arin, sprawled across the sofa in my room while munching on cookies.
"That's actually a good thing. Thanks to that, I've finally been freed from those torture sessions."
"Eeeh~ But I'm bored, Young Master."
"Go do your job. Honestly, you're way too idle."
Even as I said that, cold sweat still ran down the back of my neck.
'For now, I brushed it off by claiming it was the work of an Imperial necromancer, but he's not someone who'll back down that easily.'
Unlike my necromancy, which leaves no traces behind, the Soul-Returning Art that bastard used leaves powerful traces.
Ordinarily, it would be difficult to uncover my traces there, but considering who my opponent was, letting my guard down was out of the question.
'I need to prepare countermeasures. At least Father is here, so it should be manageable for now…'
As I opened the door while lost in thought, Dunkel was standing there waiting for me.
"The sword you requested."
"Oh, looks like it arrived right on time?"
I drew the sword from its scabbard and inspected the blade.
It had been lightened to the point it was nearly comparable to a wooden sword.
Crafted by the artisans of the ducal house, it was flawless.
"I made it exactly as you requested, but be careful. The moment swords collide, it'll break."
I nodded at Dunkel's warning.
No matter how skilled the craftsman, it was still ultimately an iron sword.
Since the weight had been reduced so drastically, the durability had obviously suffered as well.
After fastening the sword to my waist, I started walking toward the training grounds.
"What about the guests staying here?"
"They've all gathered at the training grounds. They seemed excited, saying they never thought they'd live to see another trial by duel."
"I suppose so."
Once Heinkel gave his permission, the plan progressed rapidly.
A trial by duel taking place for the first time in decades.
Most nobles shook their heads, claiming the second young master had gone insane, but among them were also those who viewed the matter favorably like this.
"Are you planning to win them over?"
"Not yet. Right now, I'm just making sure they remember my face."
The local lords of the North had remained here for over a week for one reason alone—to witness the revival of a northern tradition.
For someone like me, who was acknowledged by neither the direct line nor the branch family, they were practically my only option.
"Oh, you're here?"
"You're really planning to come alone…?"
When I arrived at the training grounds, I was greeted by the Count Cornwell faction and several regional lords.
And standing there as the overseer of the duel was Father—Heinkel.
"Kuhaha?! I never imagined you'd actually come yourself, Young Master!"
A rough, phlegm-filled voice rang out.
When I turned toward it, a gigantic man well over two meters tall stood there.
"Less intimidating than Garrison, though."
I muttered that as I walked toward him.
An arming sword in one hand, a net in the other.
For northern knights who mainly wielded greatswords, it was practically their natural enemy.
'So he prepared this from the start, expecting Delline to show up.'
Watching Randel smack his lips in disappointment, I let out a bitter smile.
In other words, he had never considered me a threat to begin with.
"Young Master Klein."
Tapping his shoulder with the sword, Randel spoke.
"I'm not usually the type to give opportunities like this, but today I'll make a special exception."
His face was filled with mockery.
"Even now, if you admit your disrespect toward Count Cornwell and kneel to apologize, I may show a bit of merc—"
"Mercy my ass."
The rough curse that came out of my mouth instantly cut him off.
"Young Master, what did you just say…?"
"Watch your damn tone, bastard. Does the Emperor not teach his knights about hierarchy?"
I deliberately brought up the Empire to get under his skin.
Judging by how quickly his expression stiffened, the effect was excellent.
"Then again, a mutt who doesn't even know where home is probably deserves to be thrown away by the Emperor."
The moment I added that—
"Pfft!"
Laughter burst out from a corner.
It came from a woman seated among the gathered local lords.
"Ha! Seriously now…"
It was a cliché provocation, but his reaction was more intense than expected.
Randel forced out a hollow laugh as if trying to brush it off,
but the twitching veins on his forehead only made my smile deepen.
"I was trying to settle this peacefully, but you just had to keep flapping that mouth of yours… without even knowing your place."
Though he was smiling as he spoke, thick killing intent filled Randel's face.
"Peacefully, my ass."
Meeting his gaze head-on, I drew my sword from its scabbard.
Compared to the murderous aura that priest bastard used to release, this was less threatening than a rat.
"You never intended to let me live from the beginning anyway, did you?"
I smiled back at him as I spoke, and Randel's eyes narrowed.
Then, the very next instant—
"So you figured it out after all?"
Randel's sword was already swinging toward my face.
Fwooom -!
'The moment the swords collide, it'll break.'
Recalling Dunkel's warning, I tracked the blade with my eyes.
The instant he rushed toward me, I combined all the information flowing into my head.
The sword's trajectory.
His line of sight.
Even the movement of his muscles.
"I'll crush you where you stand!"
Kwoooaang -!
The monstrous strength behind his strike gouged out a chunk of the training ground floor.
"Kuhaha! A loudmouth like you dares challenge me—!"
Randel's triumphant words suddenly cut off.
"W-What?!"
I was no longer where his sword had struck.
By the moment he swung, I had already slipped behind him.
"T-That just now…!"
"That was Young Master Delline's footwork. It takes at least four years of training to master that technique, so how…?!"
The knights of the North, Leinrant, fought within the snowy fields of Chokhan.
That was why, unlike the Empire's overwhelming swordsmanship that poured mana into brute force, their swordsmanship minimized mana consumption to the absolute limit.
Maximum efficiency with minimal mana.
That was the reason why even someone without mana like me could use Delline's swordsmanship.
"You rat bastard…!"
The moment he turned around, he swung upward with his sword.
I stepped back and narrowly avoided it.
Whether enraged by the realization that he'd been toyed with, Randel's eyes glared at me murderously through gritted teeth.
"Damn, you're like some rabid boar bastard."
"KRAAAAH!"
Furious at my taunt, Randel hurled the net toward me.
A weapon that spread out like a fan, sealing off every escape route.
The moment it caught me, he probably planned to slam me into the ground and beat me into pulp.
Fwaaash -!
Instead of dodging the net spreading toward me, I charged straight forward and slipped inside its range.
"W-What?!"
Instead of retreating to avoid the net, I closed the distance instead.
Caught completely off guard by my unexpected move, Randel's eyes widened.
"Bringing that to deal with Delline was smart, but you didn't think it through."
A leather net capable of locking down a wide area.
Its greatest weakness was its overwhelming weight—heavier than a tower shield.
Piiing -!
My sword slashed upward at high speed, forcing Randel to twist his body aside.
But the already-expanded net restricted his movements.
"Now it's a fifty-fifty choice, Randel."
"You bastard…!"
"Throw away the net and seize your chance, or hold onto it and die!"
As I said that, I targeted his abdomen and waist.
The arming sword had a short grip but a long blade.
Now that I had already entered close range, he couldn't defend properly unless he released the net.
"You son of a bitch!"
In the end, Randel released the net in his left hand and swung his sword at me.
Craaack!
Metal screeched as my weaker sword shattered instantly.
"Hah! Nicely done, Klein! Now your sword is—!"
"Perfect for beating the shit out of you!"
The blade had snapped down to nearly elbow-length.
But in this kind of brutal close-range brawl, a short blade was actually more advantageous.
Slash!
I sliced straight through the wrist Randel had extended to grab me.
Even a body strengthened with mana was still flesh and blood.
The sharpened blade easily carved through his flesh and severed the bone.
"AAAAAGH?!"
Randel's left hand spun once through the air before crashing onto the ground.
"M-My arm! My aaaarm—!"
Unable to endure the pain, Randel collapsed onto the floor.
Blood sprayed like a fountain from his severed wrist.
"R-Randel?!"
"What the hell?! How did Young Master Klein beat Randel…?!"
"So it was true?!"
Randel's screams echoed across the training grounds now filled with shock.
"I'll return the words you said earlier right back to you."
After quietly observing him for a moment, I approached while holding the broken sword and pointed it at him.
"Kneel, you bastard."