Chapter 10: The Duel of Pride
The news spread through the capital overnight.
"The F-Rank adventurer who saved Eastwood Village will duel Prince Lucien!"
By sunrise, the Royal Training Grounds were packed with spectators.
Nobles filled the upper balconies.
Royal Knights stood in perfect formation.
Adventurers from the guild gathered behind Helena and Garrick.
Lyra nervously clasped her hands together.
"I hope he doesn't push himself..."
Fenrir lay beneath a nearby tree, calmly watching the arena.
At the center of the arena stood Prince Lucien Solaris.
He wore polished silver armor, a royal blue cape flowing behind him.
A finely crafted longsword rested in his hand.
Across from him stood Abster.
Unlike the prince, he wore simple adventurer's clothes.
His only weapon was a standard steel sword borrowed from the guild.
The contrast couldn't have been greater.
One spectator laughed.
"This won't last a minute."
Another nodded.
"The prince is an A-Rank swordsman."
"The adventurer doesn't stand a chance."
King Aldric raised his hand.
"This duel shall end when one combatant yields or is unable to continue."
"No killing."
Lucien pointed his sword toward Abster.
"Draw your weapon."
Abster calmly did so.
"I have one condition."
Lucien frowned.
"What is it?"
"I don't want this duel to become a fight fueled by hatred."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"Agreed."
"For today..."
"We fight as swordsmen."
The signal was given.
"Begin!"
Lucien moved first.
His speed surprised everyone.
Clang!
Abster barely blocked the opening strike.
The impact pushed him backward.
Lucien didn't stop.
A second strike.
Then a third.
Each attack flowed smoothly into the next.
"He really is talented," Garrick muttered.
Abster remained on the defensive.
He focused on Lucien's breathing.
His footing.
The movement of his shoulders.
"He's not reckless..."
"He's testing me."
Lucien suddenly changed rhythm.
His sword flashed toward Abster's side.
Abster narrowly dodged.
The blade sliced through part of his sleeve.
A few strands of black cloth drifted to the ground.
The crowd gasped.
"So close..."
Princess Elena watched silently.
Unlike the others...
She noticed something strange.
Abster wasn't fighting to win.
He was learning.
Every exchange revealed another piece of Lucien's swordsmanship.
Every movement sharpened Abster's own.
Lucien smiled.
"So you finally understand."
Abster nodded.
"You're holding back too."
The prince laughed.
"Looks like I underestimated you."
He raised his sword.
Blue mana gathered around the blade.
The air itself seemed to vibrate.
"Royal Sword Art..."
"First Form—"
Azure Fang!
A crescent of blue energy raced across the arena.
The spectators leapt to their feet.
"That's a Royal Technique!"
Abster inhaled deeply.
"No Authority..."
"No strange power..."
"Just me."
At the last possible moment—
He stepped forward instead of backward.
The blue slash passed inches from his face.
Before Lucien could react—
Clang!
Abster's sword stopped at the prince's throat.
Silence.
No one moved.
Lucien slowly looked down.
His own sword was resting harmlessly against Abster's shoulder.
They had both reached each other at exactly the same moment.
King Aldric stood.
"...A draw."
The arena erupted into cheers.
Lucien lowered his sword and smiled honestly for the first time.
"I've trained since childhood."
"You matched me without using magic."
He extended his hand.
"I was wrong about you."
Abster accepted the handshake.
"So was I."
The crowd applauded.
Not because someone had won...
But because they had witnessed two warriors earning each other's respect.
As everyone celebrated...
A figure watched from the palace rooftop.
The hooded woman with violet eyes smiled.
"He still refuses to rely on the Authority."
"Good..."
"That means his heart is still his own."
She turned toward the distant mountains.
Far beyond Valoria...
A black fortress stood beneath storm-filled skies.
Upon its highest throne sat Lord Zarek.
A shadowy messenger knelt before him.
"My Lord."
"The duel has ended."
Zarek closed his eyes.
"So..."
"He chooses skill over power."
A faint smile appeared.
"The Sovereign hasn't changed."
He slowly rose from his throne.
"Prepare the Black Legion."
"It is time..."
"...to greet our king."
Lightning split the sky above the fortress.
Far away, Abster looked toward the dark horizon without knowing why.
For a brief moment...
He felt as though someone was calling his name.
End of Chapter 10