Chapter 67
“How is he?”
Not long after the match resumed, Roselyn hurriedly asked Allen as he returned to his seat.
“He won’t die. But….”
“But…?”
Allen sat down, pinching the bridge of his nose as if in pain.
“The rotator cuff on his right side was cut so deeply that he might not be able to hold a sword properly again….”
“Gah…!”
Roselyn gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth, tears threatening to spill. Ludiana gripped her shoulder and spoke in a worried voice.
“Vinzga is a baron family, right?”
“Yes. Brown hoped to score well in this tournament and be admitted into the Royal Knight Order.”
Allen’s face twisted further; he rubbed his forehead with both hands.
“How could a blade…?”
“It makes no sense. A real sword breaking in a single exchange.”
Ludiana hadn’t seen the incident with her own eyes because she had been watching Allen, but Roselyn recounted what had happened.
‘Brown’s blade broke while he was receiving Lanshtein’s sword, and the broken sword pierced his shoulder.’
From the way things looked, neither Faden—who inflicted the wound—nor Brown—who was wounded—could be blamed. It was clearly an accident.
But breaking in a single exchange?
No swordsman could shatter a real blade in one strike. Besides, weren’t these swords just recently issued by the crown for the tournament?
They shouldn’t have been struck by any major impact or had their edges compromised before the match.
“Your Grace, could Fayden Ranshtain’s strength be that great?”
“No. Even in the joint drills not long ago, he didn’t stand out.”
Then had the crown been careless and issued flawed swords only to the Eastern side…?
‘No. That would be a disadvantage to the Emperor.’
The Emperor agreed to establish the Eastern Academy to keep Western nobles in check. Moreover, this tournament served as a sort of report card showing the results of that policy.
He, who cared about public opinion, wouldn’t allow faulty swords at a contest the entire nation watched.
‘Then… could it really be Fayden Ranshtain’s strength?’
The joint training between the Eastern and Western academies had been only six months ago. How on earth could he have gained that much power in such a short time?
Ludiana, who had been watching the next match with heavy eyes, turned her head.
The entrance that connected to the Western team’s waiting room.
She remembered Fayden right after the match.
‘Why was he breathing so hard?’
Their match had ended in a single exchange. Even so, Fayden’s breathing had been unusually ragged.
“Stop!”
The shout from the leader of the Royal Knight Order announcing the end of the bout rang through the arena.
“The Western Academy, Nartas, wins!”
“Waaah—!”
Two more matches were fought after that, and after the fifth announced name, Karlos, and the sixth, Irene, finished their bouts, the Knight Commander returned to the arena.
“We will now begin the second round!”
A familiar name came from his lips.
“Western — Fayden Ranshtain. Eastern — Karlos, step forward!”
Ludiana’s startled gaze swung toward the Eastern waiting room’s entrance.
Fayden had already fought earlier, but Karlos had only recently finished his match.
‘There’s definitely going to be a stamina gap!’
She had never imagined Karlos would lose, but after seeing Fayden’s bout earlier, her heart started to pound.
Fayden Ranshtain’s sudden increase in strength was inexplicable, but he was dangerous now.
‘Karlos…!’
Karlos emerged from the waiting room. The sunlight made his beautiful blond hair shine even brighter. His broad shoulders and tall frame, his muscles lean yet firm — he drew everyone’s eyes as he stepped into the arena.
‘Please, don’t get hurt…!’
Ludiana clutched her skirt until her hand cramped.
“Whoo… bastard bastard… huff.”
“…….”
Fayden, standing in the middle of the arena, looked plainly strange.
‘When did round one even end?’
Karlos’s slate-blue eyes scanned Fayden up and down.
His breathing was so ragged it could have been from running at full speed. His cheeks were flushed, sweat soaked his brow and neck. Above all—
‘His focus is gone.’
He looked even worse than when Brown had described him.
“That guy was odd. Even before the match, he was breathing like someone who’d already fought,” someone muttered.
“Begin!”
With the Knight Commander’s signal, Fayden — whose gaze was unfocused — charged straight at Karlos.
Clang!
With crushing force, Fayden thrust his sword down onto Karlos. Karlos bent his knees and raised both hands over his head, taking Fayden’s blade on the flat of his sword.
‘Ugh, what kind of power is this…!’
Feeling the tingle in his arms as the force transmitted through the blade, Karlos barely kept the strike at bay. At that moment, Fayden murmured softly.
“The true Ranshtain is….”
Fayden lifted his sword again.
“It’s me!!”
He struck again and again with tremendous momentum.
Clang! Crack! Clang!
He repeatedly raised the blade high and brought it down; Karlos’s palms, taking those shocks through the sword, split and bled.
‘This won’t do…’
Just as Fayden lifted the sword yet again to bring it down, Karlos quickly rolled to the side.
Thud!
With a deafening sound, the sword lodged into the arena’s stone slab.
“Huh?!”
Out of disbelief at the sheer force, Karlos let out a hollow laugh. He quickly composed himself and set his stance.
He intended to attack before Fayden could recover. But the next attack never came.
“This is! What the hell is this…!”
Fayden thrashed at the sword stuck in the ground. When it wouldn’t come free, he began to howl.
“Argh!! Damn it!!”
Fayden stamped and cursed until the Knight Commander shouted.
“That’s enough!! We’ll take a moment to regroup. Both of you, step down!”
Fayden looked back at Karlos with a glaring stare. Sweat dripped from his brow.
He refused to step down; the Knight Commander approached him.
“Grr….”
“Ranshtain, step down.”
“Damn it…!”
Eventually, Fayden let go of the hilt and climbed down from the arena. He walked over to a makeshift bench set aside at the side. Looking around, he grabbed a small bottle sitting on the bench roughly.
“Whew, bastard….”
Fayden popped the cork and swallowed the liquid inside in one gulp.
After swallowing the whole thing, he curled his lips in a sly grin and turned.
“This time I’ll really kill him….”
Thud!
Because the sword wouldn’t come out, the Royal Knights smashed the slab of the arena. Receiving the sword back from the knights, the Commander scowled and approached Fayden.
“You alright?”
“Huff… huff, I’m fine.”
“You look off.”
“Nah, I’m fine!”
Fayden snatched the sword from the Commander and strode back into the arena, spitting as he moved. He looked like a hunting hound eager to chase prey.
Karlos met his gaze, snorting a laugh and mocking him.
“They used the family crest on a wolf, and now you want to be an actual beast?”
“I’ll… I’ll kill you!”
“You dumbass.”
Fayden charged at Karlos with even more ferocity. Karlos curled one corner of his mouth into a smirk.
‘That strength is definitely enormous.’
With that kind of force behind him, a real sword could break.
Reading the blade’s trajectory, Karlos dodged and caught Fayden’s arm with a sweep kick. During the short break, Karlos thought out a way to counter — and it wasn’t difficult.
“Ugh…!”
“Brute strength alone won’t win you the match.”
Fayden staggered and fell to one side. He raised his head.
“I don’t know how you produce such power with that body, but swinging wildly without sense or technique won’t cut it,” Karlos said as he straightened.
“Now I see — you’re not a wolf. You’re a bull.”
Karlos walked up until he stood right in front of Fayden, and the blinding sunlight blocked his view for a moment. Dazed, Fayden lurched to his feet and ground his teeth.
“I’ll kill you.”
“You? Kill me?”
Karlos shrugged and beckoned with his hand.
“Come charge head-on, bull.”
Rage flared in Fayden’s blue eyes. He breathed heavily and shouted again.
“I’ll kill you…!!”
A bead of sweat slipped from Karlos’s temple.
The midsummer sun had heated the arena. The white stone slabs reflected the sunlight so intensely that heat haze began to shimmer in the air.
