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Chapter 77 - CHAPTER 77

Time flowed quickly.

The semifinals of the jousting tournament proceeded just as everyone had expected.

Ruina Verchev defeated Kuntz Virel, and Rob Kaelin defeated Valosi Bienderk.

After a short day of rest, the day of the finals—also the last day of the festival—dawned.

The jousting finals and the magic duel finals.

The entrance to the arena where the two championships would be decided was packed with people eager to watch.

"Welcome, Lord Fernan. Allow me to guide you."

Without waiting in line, Fernan went straight to the VVIP seats, but he stopped short when he saw someone occupying his spot.

"What are you doing? Come and sit."

"That is my seat, however."

"Seats are abundant."

The VVIP section was divided like small private rooms with partitions for each guest's privacy.

"When did such a busy man as you arrive, Father?"

"No matter how busy I am, it's not so much that I can't come to see my son at least once. Not that you're the only reason I came."

"So, it's a side errand."

A duke of Pellenberg's stature could not move lightly. Of course, this time he had come personally because of the grave matter concerning demons, but there was no reason he couldn't handle several matters at once.

"Humans are deceitful creatures. Even if one receives payment that is fully deserved, if there's no acknowledgment, resentment can form."

"You mean the chancellor?"

"The chancellor isn't that kind of man. But words of gratitude cost nothing, and yet sometimes they are worth millions."

"I understand."

Of course, Fernan knew that wasn't all. He was certain the duke and the chancellor had discussed the demons.

And likely, it was about the direction things would take in the future.

"Have the other electors come as well?"

"I'm the only elector to come in person."

Indeed, the title of Elector was not light. Especially since they thought of the demons as merely a corrupted race, not true demons, they would not move easily.

Still, that meant the hands and agents of the electors were scattered throughout the VVIP seats.

"So, which part is real?"

The duke spoke abruptly, but Fernan understood easily enough.

"All of it."

"Then which parts weren't recorded from the start?"

Just as the chancellor had noticed something strange, the duke, upon reviewing the record sphere, also saw the abrupt gaps.

"The moment Ruina Verchev stood before Aint Armian."

"The necklace."

The duke's gaze shifted to the necklace hanging around Fernan's neck.

"If you reduce the size of what you made using my craftsmen and facilities, it would turn out like that."

"Yes. It's a golem."

The tiny Uden waved its hand. Knowing it was an ego golem, the duke was not surprised.

"It seemed quite effective against Andromalius."

"It dragged him to the brink of death."

"Well hidden."

An ego golem was an item that could shake the entire continent.

"But it was sloppy."

It wasn't sloppy. There wasn't a trace of Uden left in the record sphere.

But that wasn't what the duke was referring to.

"The inquisitors who received the chancellor's letter have begun to move."

"…So the problem isn't the golem, but that I was revealed to be there."

"Keep silent. There's no cure if you're bitten by a mad dog. Especially don't mention that you knew demons would be summoned beforehand."

The sudden words made Fernan struggle to maintain his composure.

"I didn't know."

"Let's assume so."

"It's the truth."

"And yet you just happened to be where a demon was summoned."

"It was coincidence. If I had known, I would've avoided it. I'm not a fool who would walk into that."

"The World Tree's branch."

"That has been well restored."

"And then the demon emerged."

Fernan had no answer.

"I didn't know."

But there was no need to say more.

The duke also seemed disinclined to press further, turning his gaze away.

"You are right."

By now, the finalists were stepping onto the stage.

The duke's eyes glimmered as he spotted Ruina Verchev.

"To reach such achievements at that age… The Verchevs have not declined yet."

"Were you planning to truly bring about their decline?"

"If a house collapses simply because some secret swordsmanship was taken, they don't deserve the name of Elector."

"Though in fact, they are not electors at present."

And it was the duke who had maneuvered them into selling their electoral rights, the Golden Bull charter.

"Secret swordsmanship is just a copy, not the true original. And it's not like we'd spread it across the world anyway, so it wouldn't have hurt the Verchevs much."

Even so, of the two choices, the Verchevs had chosen to sell their Golden Bull rights rather than give up their secret swordsmanship.

"But against us, they would've been helpless."

Owning a sword manual wasn't just about learning it. The true value lay in analyzing it and developing counters against it.

"You say you paired up with her—have you grown attached already?"

"Ruina will become a Royal Knight."

"So you're currying favor in advance?"

"Words of thanks cost nothing."

"The words of one in high position are worth gold."

The duke took a sip of the chilled tea that had been prepared in advance.

"Begin!"

The finals commenced.

Ruina Verchev and Rob Kaelin. The two knights spurred their horses and charged toward each other.

────!

A thunderous roar tore the air apart.

Shockwaves spread in all directions, but they could not break through the defensive magic array shielding the stands.

"Albinus Verchev is already a Royal Knight."

It was a sudden remark.

"I know."

"If Ruina Verchev becomes a Royal Knight, the Verchevs will have two Royal Knights."

"Yes."

"That's not a bad method—to gain a Royal Knight, something money cannot buy."

────!

The second clash. Still, no victor.

Amid the roar, Fernan replied calmly, his expression unchanged.

"Forgive me, but you are mistaken."

"Are you saying you'd bake bread and give it to a beggar?"

"I didn't bake any bread."

"You used mandragora as firewood, I heard."

Fernan had been speaking of the mandragora root he had given to Ruina.

─────!

The third clash. The two knights dismounted simultaneously and drew their swords.

"There's no law that says flour must only make bread."

"Only when you sell it and receive proper payment is the investment complete."

"I will receive it."

And in truth, he had already recovered the principal.

The fact that Fernan was here, un-expelled and seated at the duke's side conversing with him, was already worth far more than the principal.

─!

──!

Sword strikes tangled together.

Silvery trails and azure sword-auras resembling the sky bit and tore into one another.

"A rare sight indeed."

It was not easy to watch a duel between the heirs of Royal Knights.

"Father."

The duke turned his head slightly in silence.

"I wish to make a trade."

─!

"Speak."

─!

"What kind of man is the Mercenary King?"

"Is that your trade?"

"Just a simple question."

"He is a Royal Knight. A man who, though not a knight, bears the greatest knightly title."

That was something everyone knew.

"You granted him the obsidian mine, did you not?"

"I never said I would develop it."

"Will you not?"

"I never said I wouldn't. It will be processed according to your report."

"Nothing else?"

"He is a mercenary to his very bones."

─!

The clash between the two knights grew more violent. Shards of shattered aura swept across the arena.

Yet neither Ruina nor Rob gave an inch.

It was like a dance.

A performance.

A pair of man and woman weaving a sword-dance that filled the entire arena.

So beautiful that the audience fell into an awed silence, captivated.

Only Fernan ignored the duel, focusing instead on the duke's voice.

"He accepts any commission and completes it. No matter what, he prioritizes the client's command above all else. He is one you can truly say is worth paying for."

Though that did not mean the client was automatically his master.

"Garrett Schreiner has his own line. Cross it, and he will break contract and forfeit the commission immediately."

"That's all?"

"If he were so strong yet acted solely by whim, do you think he could have earned the title of king?"

It was useful information. Once you secured a contract, he would follow the client's orders under most circumstances.

"Then even in urgent situations, if the client orders him not to move, will he truly remain still?"

"Do you think Garrett is a dog?"

For once, expression crossed the duke's usually impassive face—a faint laugh.

"Of course not."

"If it does not endanger Garrett himself or his mercenaries, then yes."

That was it. Fernan clenched his fist unseen.

"But Garrett does not accept just any request. If the client lacks qualification, or the task fails to interest him, he will refuse."

"I know he takes at most one or two requests a year."

That didn't matter. Fernan had the bait—irresistible bait—to lure the Mercenary King.

"Thank you."

"Abandon the thought of approaching carelessly. Garrett is no easy man."

"How could a Royal Knight be easy?"

Fernan had no intention of anything special. Mercenary and client. What else would pass between them but a contract?

A mercenary. Their king.

He would hire him to fight demons. A Royal Knight. That was Fernan's ultimate bulwark.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if this was the right path—or if he was hindering Aint's growth.

But it was also true that relying only on Aint left him uneasy.

That was why—the Mercenary King. A man who prioritized the client's word.

Until the moment comes when Aint cannot win, I can hold him back from stepping in.

Of course, borrowing his family's might was the simplest solution. But that was not the right path.

Fighting demons could mean irreparable losses for the family, and there was no convincing way to explain that demons would be summoned in the first place.

The ability to see the future was Fernan's greatest weapon. Whether others believed him or not, he could never tell anyone.

───!

─!

──!

As Fernan and the duke conversed, the match surged toward its climax.

The aura blades extending from their swords were solid and razor-sharp, and each strike aimed with such lethal intent that it wouldn't have been surprising had an artifact activated.

Though hundreds of exchanges passed, neither blade slowed. Neither expression faltered.

Their swords remained both light and heavy, while the arena floor cracked and split as if meteors had struck.

"How did that golem perform?"

"..."

"I'll tell you how to put in a request to the Mercenary King. What you do after that is your business."

"It tore apart and killed Andromalius's serpent."

"That little snake?"

"It grew over twenty meters long."

"A demonic beast then. Hmph, worth the high price after all. When you first said you'd make a golem with such costly materials, I thought you'd gone mad."

But if it could tear apart a demon's beast, there could be no doubt of its performance.

"The perfect partner for a merchant."

Boom!

Uden, dangling from the necklace, waved happily in greeting. The duke looked down at it with indifference.

At that moment—

WAAAAHHHHHHHH!

A deafening roar of the crowd shook the arena.

"The match is decided."

The duke checked the arena and rose from his seat.

"Can those caught on the record sphere be trusted?"

Ruina, Aria, Verian, and Aint.

"One can be trusted completely, one can be bargained with, one can be threatened."

"And the last one?"

"Can be persuaded."

"If you don't want the inquisitors to discover the truth about demons, you must seal their mouths tightly. A merchant who has taken the down payment must fulfill the bargain."

He was speaking of the Chancellor.

"I will keep that in mind."

As the duke departed first, Fernan called out after him.

"Will you not stay to watch the finals of the magic duel?"

"I only came to see who among your people could be trusted."

Fernan checked the arena, and a smile spread across his lips.

From the beginning of the festival until now—

The funds to hire the Mercenary King had been secured.

And—

"Young master, the first report on Gismond Ert has arrived."

Information on that strange man, too.

Strong.

From the very first clash of lances, Ruina realized it.

No, truthfully, she had known even before their lances struck.

Her opponent was Rob Kaelin.

Grandson and disciple of a Royal Knight.

Last year's jousting champion.

Two years her senior. To some, two years might seem short, but for a genius, two years could be an immense wall.

And yet, Ruina did not feel fear. Even amid the chilling hostility and vicious waves of aura, she stepped forward and extended her sword.

If he was the grandson of a Royal Knight, she was the daughter of a Royal Knight.

A knight who had fought a demon—and won.

Rob Kaelin was certainly formidable. Strong.

But he was not as frightening as a demon. He was not as strong as a demon.

Therefore, she had confidence she would not lose.

"I said I would win."

For a knight, a promise was as dear as life itself.

Thus, she had to win.

No—more than that, she wanted to win.

Not every jousting champion became a Royal Knight.

But with the exception of two who had never entered the academy, every Royal Knight had once won the jousting tournament.

Therefore, Ruina had to win.

Swords clashed. Rob Kaelin was stronger than any academy student she had ever faced.

Every impact of his strikes rattled her bones, making her grit her teeth.

But she endured.

Compared to when she had fought Andromalius, when every blow tore muscle and burst veins, this was nothing.

The pressure.

The destructive power.

The speed.

Everything whispered to her that she had no reason she could not win.

And that whisper became reality.

─!

The swords that had clashed hundreds of times met once more.

Clang—!

Her blade slid along the flat of his.

She bent forward, raising her arm. His torso was exposed.

She drove her knee upward, but the hard aura shielded his breastplate. She shoved forward, sending him stumbling.

Crash! The roar was like colliding carriages as they tumbled to the ground together.

They soon staggered back to their feet, panting.

Both raised their swords again, and as though by unspoken agreement, their auras flared.

Ruina and Rob both knew this would be the final exchange. Neither had strength nor aura left to spare.

Sharper. Sharper still.

Just as when she had staked everything and pierced the demon's heart.

The two blades, honed with desperate edge, collided.

An auric halo engulfed the entire arena.

And when the light faded—

"Huff, huff…!"

It was Ruina who remained standing.

From Rob's bracelet, as he lay on the ground staring at the sky, came a faint glow.

…Had she won?

"…Ha… I never thought I'd lose."

She had won.

Ruina instinctively lifted her head.

Toward the seats of the high nobility—where Fernan would surely be.

Why she looked there first, she herself did not know.

She just wanted to.

Because if not for Fernan—

This victory would not have been hers.

She would not have become top of her class, nor reached this stage.

Ruina raised her sword high.

"The victor! Ruina Verchev!"

The judge's voice proclaimed the tournament's champion.

Ruina did not know. She could not see the golden drops falling from Fernan's eyes as he looked upon her.

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