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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Contract Magic
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The slave soldiers raised under the hand of Wolfram, the second son responsible for the Argent Family's troops.
Among them, only a rare few demonstrated such exceptional talent that, despite their slave status, they were recognized as formal knights.
And among those rare few, only four—perfectly embodying strength, loyalty, and madness, and catching the direct eye of Family Head Agram himself, rather than any mere "heir"—received this title.
Black Iron Knights.
They were, quite literally, the swords of the Argent Family.
They knew no deprivation.
Their helmets were forged from the ice scales of salamanders that dwelled in the northern winters, and their plate armor was masterwork crafted from refined scales harvested from eastern dragons.
But the true masterpiece was the swords they wielded.
Pitch-black longswords refined from special black iron, mined solely from the veins of the "Demon Realm"—the heart of the continent, where endless darkness writhed.
Their hardness was laughable compared to ordinary steel, and they boasted overwhelming power rivaling enchanted artifact blades.
Yet such a sword had just broken.
The shock and silence that enveloped the dueling arena was fleeting.
Garin, having frozen in astonishment, drew in a sharp breath and gazed down at the shattered remnants of his blade scattered across the ground.
And then—
The moment he caught sight of Piel's movement, his battle instincts reignited like a flash.
From the arm of the young fox beastkin, a shield etched with a dragon pattern slowly lifted into position.
A small, fragile body.
A torn maid outfit.
Trembling breaths.
Yet even so... the girl raised the shield squarely in front of her, as if the Dragon Pattern Shield itself were aiming at Garin.
In that instant, Garin sensed it instinctively.
'It's not over yet!'
Tremble.
His entire body shuddered with the premonition of battle.
And as expected, alongside the Shield of Obliteration, Piel summoned a second shield.
From the dragon pattern on the front of the Shield of Rebound—which returned every shock she had endured so far, amplified twofold—a single beam of light flashed.
Boom!
"Guh?!"
"G-Garin?!"
"A Black Iron Knight...?"
"He got hit with a 'rebound' from that kid?!"
The explosive roar that shook the dueling arena carried the backlash straight through Garin's armor, rattling his internal organs.
And in that momentum, the Black Iron Knight Garin flew past Syl and slammed into the arena wall—a sight no one could have imagined.
Syl's face twisted for the first time.
Not in surprise or anger, but in a sense of crisis.
Wolfram and Seratina froze, speechless.
Black Iron Knight.
The elite knights representing the Argent Family.
One of them... had been sent flying by a young beastkin slave who, just a month ago, had been discarded like a worthless sack.
If this had been an officially broadcasted gladiatorial match rather than an internal Proxy Blood Fate, it would have shaken the entire continent beyond any mere scandal.
"Garin... what are you doing?! Get up already! This makes it look like I lost!!"
The Black Knight, half-embedded in the wall with only his lower body visible.
It was so absurd that Syl bellowed at the top of her lungs, half-worried he might actually be down.
And after a moment of silence.
Clank.
"My apologies, Lady Syl. I was... no, severely careless."
With those words, Garin brushed off the rock fragments and rose.
Bloodstains marred the front of his helmet, but he bowed deeply in apology, as if this were mere morning stretching.
"...H-Haha! That's more like it! That's what I expect from my guard knight!"
Syl let out a sigh of relief, her face a mix of shock and pride.
Garin casually tossed the broken sword hilt to the ground.
As if it were worthless scrap metal.
And when he slowly walked across the arena floor to face Piel once more, the little fox beastkin stood with her shield raised, her gaze unwavering.
Garin murmured lowly at the sight.
"Little girl. Your name... was Piel, was it?"
"Yes?"
"I apologize for my 'mistakes' up until now."
"...Mistakes?"
Garin's voice sank low.
"Indeed. Until now, to me, you were no different from some insect I happened to crush."
Piel's ears twitched sharply.
"But... that blow just now made me realize."
Garin's presence shifted.
The air compressed around them, and every hair on Piel's body stood on end.
"You are no longer a pathetic insect. You are a clear 'enemy'."
The moment the words ended, the overwhelming killing intent unique to Black Iron Knights flooded the arena.
"So from now on... I'll face you with the full sincerity due an enemy."
Garin's form shattered from Piel's vision.
And immediately after, a pressure stabbing at the base of her spine arrived belatedly from her toes.
"Gah?!"
Her breath burst out in a scream as her small body launched forward; before she could right herself in midair, Garin's hand had already seized her by the hair.
The next was the ground.
Thud!
The floor cracked, shards flying everywhere.
Before Piel's body could even roll away, Garin's shadow loomed over her.
"Ha...!"
A brief breath.
The instant he gripped her nape, he hoisted her up and hurled her toward the wall right beside where he'd been embedded moments ago.
Crunch!
Bricks shattered, split, and crumbled, the sound tearing at the ears.
The little beastkin's body dangled upside down, embedded in the wall, shaking.
That sight conveyed an absolute disparity anyone could understand.
The fleeting counterattack Piel had shown at first—that slender thread of hope—seemed utterly severed in this moment.
"Lady Syl. That should settle it now."
Garin glanced briefly toward the wall where Piel was embedded and said,
"The opponent was unexpectedly strong... so I damaged her a bit, but I controlled my strength as much as possible."
"As expected of Garin! Haha... for a second there, I thought you were getting pushed, and my heart nearly stopped!"
"I am the Argent Family's blade of ebony. I cannot bring such dishonor to my lady."
As Garin knelt on one knee to pledge his loyalty, Syl jumped up and down, clapping with relief from her fear.
The spectators were the same.
Most of the servants rose with reactions like "As expected" or "That poor beastkin's done for...", while even Wolfram and Seratina were already pondering their next moves.
'The referee just needs to blow the pipe, and it's over.'
Such was the atmosphere.
But in that instant.
"Who said to blow the horn pipe just now?"
Agram's low, heavy voice crushed the arena.
"F-Family Head...?"
The two heirs froze in unison.
The referee halted with the pipe to his lips.
And right then.
"Lady Syl, then I'll go wrap things up—"
"Garin?"
Splurt! Something burst from beneath the Black Knight's helmet.
"Bugh?! Gah...!"
Blood surged up like reflux from within the regulated metal.
"G-Garin?! What in the world—"
The moment Syl cried out in shock and turned toward the wall where Piel had been embedded.
Crunch!!!
The solid stone wall split open from within, and amid the dust, a girl's silhouette emerged.
Blood streamed from her arms and legs, her maid outfit in tatters.
But the edge of the shield in her small hand was raised like a blade.
And her voice was not that of the child who'd just been slammed into the wall.
"You thought that was enough to take me down?!"
It was Piel.
In a flash, she slipped beside the kneeling Garin and slammed the shield's edge down onto his helmet—
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
Steel screamed as Garin's body rocked backward.
Without missing the opening, Piel mounted his body, pinning the Black Iron Knight's chest and hammering down relentlessly with her shield.
"I'm! Still! Fine!"
Eyes beyond human limits.
Utterly feral, the shield pounded the helmet at insane speeds.
"H-Hiiik?!"
As metal wailed and shards scattered before her eyes, Syl's legs gave out, nearly collapsing.
But Garin was Garin, after all.
The instant Piel swung down again, a thick hand shot out like lightning and twisted into her hair.
The next moment, her small body flipped in midair and was thrown into the center of the arena.
Before her back hit the ground, the sky suddenly darkened.
"You've got grit... but that's as far as you go!"
Boom!
His kick slammed down, resonating through the entire arena.
The floor split, dust exploding and wafting even to the spectator seats.
...It looked finished.
However.
"What...!"
Where Garin's attack should have landed, the Shield of Obliteration had morphed form to intercept.
A speed she couldn't match moments ago now aligned perfectly for defense.
And she barely, but once again, blocked the follow-up as Garin lunged to pin her.
Her wrists, which should have trembled, held firm instead.
An incomprehensible scene.
Garin was certain.
'...Growing mid-battle? In just these few exchanges?'
No genius could achieve such speed.
Yet this girl was undoubtedly growing stronger, layer by layer.
At that moment, thunderous laughter cleaved through the arena.
"Kuhahahahaha!!"
A thunderclap of a laugh.
From Family Head Agram.
The sight alone was an anomaly.
This laughter that shook the family could freeze even Black Iron Knights with its weight.
And the truly astonishing part came next.
"To think you could even pull off something like that! Lucas Argent!!"
"Young Master... Lucas?"
The focus wasn't on Piel or Garin.
It was Lucas, who had quietly watched from behind.
Yet he stood there bearing the same wounds, the same bloodstains, the same labored breaths as Piel.
It was no coincidence.
Garin finally realized.
Why Piel could leap back after the first strike.
Why she suddenly kept up with his speed.
Why this "impossible" growth was unfolding before his eyes.
The girl wasn't fighting alone.
This battle had been a joint fight between Piel and Lucas from the very start.
"This is a 'contract'. Until this Proxy Blood Fate ends, Piel's growth speed accelerates abnormally. And half of any damage she takes, I bear in her place. In return, the moment we lose, Lucas Argent's and Piel's hearts stop dead right there on the spot."
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