From somewhere, a muttered remark slipped out.
“We, too, have mouths, you know?”
At that, Masid bristled and shouted loudly toward where the voice had come from.
“Who was it? Who just said something about mouths?!”
His voice scattered across the mass of subjugation members.
Since others must have heard it, he should have been able to find the person who said it.
But as if they had all conspired together, no one spoke up.
The longer the silence stretched, the redder Masid’s face became.
“What is this? What’s with the atmosphere right now? This isn’t even food you usually eat. Did I say anything wrong?!”
His voice boomed, ringing loudly across the wide training grounds.
Masid looked ready to draw his sword and swing at any moment.
Even if he was from a collateral line, a noble was still a noble.
If a fight broke out and the old-generation nobles stepped in, the subjugation members would be the only ones to suffer.
Liselotte clapped her hands sharply, briskly cutting through the tension.
“All right, all right. Everyone, finish your sandwiches. I came today because I want to watch a spar!”
At her words, Ferento, who had been chewing a mouthful of sandwich, raised a hand and asked,
“Just a regular spar? Who would it be between?”
Perhaps because it was such an everyday matter for the knights, they all showed curiosity about who the opponents would be.
Liselotte held up both hands with a ta-da!, pointing straight at Masid.
“I want to see Sir Masid spar with His Highness!”
The moment her words ended, Ferento—who had been sitting on the training grounds floor, swallowing a sandwich—started coughing violently, pounding his chest with his fist.
It looked like he had choked, and his face began to turn red enough to match his hair.
Just when it seemed like he might pass out, Ferento’s coughing abruptly stopped and he fell silent.
‘…D-Did something happen?’
It seemed Liselotte was not the only one suddenly worried.
Masid also seemed shocked and fell silent, his eyes wide open.
Even Eren, who was usually taciturn, asked after him.
“Ferento. Are you alive?”
‘You cannot just say that out loud!’
Ferento, who had been sitting on the training ground floor, sprang to his feet.
“Ah, sorry. That startled me so much, I just…”
Rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, Ferento finally gave his delayed response.
“U-um, Princess Liselotte. I’m sorry to say this, but duels between knight commanders and the Head of the House usually aren’t done.”
“Why?”
“Well, if one of them gets injured, it would be troublesome when it’s time to go on a subjugation…”
Ferento’s voice gradually lost strength and trailed off.
She could guess the reason.
The knight commanders had to risk their lives leading the subjugation force.
If frequent duels with the Lord revealed differences in strength, the subjugation force would inevitably begin to split, consciously or unconsciously, in whom they followed.
The balance of power within the subjugation force could collapse.
If the Lord was too strong, the knight commander would be overshadowed.
If the Lord was weak, there was a high chance the entire subjugation force would fall apart.
She understood, but who did they think she was?
“Then they can use wooden swords, can’t they?”
After blinking once, Liselotte tilted her head and asked in an almost innocent tone.
After all, this was the woman who had behaved however she pleased in the North.
Even if she had been calmer lately, that image of causing trouble had not vanished.
Faced with her request, no one could outright refuse. They merely gauged each other’s reactions, swallowing their discomfort.
Masid let out a deep sigh, as if he had expected this.
“Honestly. Princess, did you come here saying you wanted to watch without even knowing the basic rules?”
“I understand. You’re worried the subjugation members might start doubting the knights’ qualifications, right?”
After finishing her sentence, Liselotte widened her eyes as if she had just realized something.
“Oh. So everyone’s actually worried that Sir Masid might lose in a duel with His Highness!”
“…Hah? Excuse me? What did you just say?”
He stared at her as if he had just heard something impossible.
No matter how much Masid tried to belittle him, in terms of skill, Eren clearly held the upper hand.
Of course, Masid would never think so.
In the original story, when Eren finally lost his sanity, the first people he dealt with were those who opposed him.
That list included collateral relatives as well.
They were unable to put up any proper resistance and met the end of their lives cleanly beneath his blade.
In truth, the reason Masid did not acknowledge him was simple. It was because he used the swordsmanship of House Keilos despite being of half-blood origin.
How dare a half-blood presume to inherit the swordsmanship of Keilos, the very swordsmanship Masid had taken pride in his entire life.
It was a line he repeated like a mantra in the original story.
A knight ought to take pride in their Lord’s swordsmanship, but Masid behaved as if Eren’s origins alone defined everything.
It was a paltry sort of pride, and he was the type to tremble violently when it was poked at.
And a personality like that, when cornered with inescapable provocation…
“Even so, it is His Highness. I understand. That can happen.”
“Ha, Princess Liselotte. Watch closely. I will show you how the knights of the North are different from those third-rate subjugation troops.”
…inevitably takes the bait.
Going by Ferento’s explanation, it seemed he had never sparred with Eren even once.
Masid adjusted his grip on his sword and gave a light hop in place.
As he warmed up, he asked Eren with a sly, twisted smile,
“Your Highness. Shall we have a bout?”
Ferento hurriedly sprang to his feet and cried out in shock,
“Sir Masid? Not even a wooden sword, but a real blade? If you had that much energy, you should have unleashed it during subjugation missions. Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
“Our great Imperial Princess has graciously said she wishes to watch the knights put on a little show, so shouldn’t we oblige her? Isn’t that right?”
Masid was confident. Eren would not even be able to harm him by a fingertip.
Why did the continent tolerate the existence of the Word of Command?
Because he did not openly wield its power.
If casualties were produced through the Word of Command, pressure would arise not only within the Empire but among countless families of foreign nations as well.
There was no country in this world that would simply watch such a dangerous power go unchecked.
Then the collateral branch could use that as an excuse to cling to stripping Eren of his qualification as Grand Duke.
Knowing this, Eren subdued his power and revealed his instincts only during actual subjugations.
Which meant this spar was practically decided before it began.
At Masid’s provocation, Eren let out a quiet sigh and drew the sword at his waist.
The blade gleamed a chilling blue, sharp enough to sting the eyes.
Liselotte trembled slightly in fear.
‘So this is… the sword that killed the original Liselotte.’
It was the blade passed down through generations of Grand Dukes, said to have been forged from a dragon’s heart.
Whether that was true, Liselotte had no way of knowing.
But one thing was certain: the collateral branch had always coveted that sword.
Eren raised one hand, urging her to step back a little further.
She took a step back, but apparently it was not enough to satisfy him, because he gestured toward Ferento with his eyes.
Ferento let out a short sigh and guided her away.
“Ah! Princess Liselotte, it is dangerous, so please watch from a bit farther away.”
The subjugation members were already clustered tightly around the outer edge of the training ground, and every time she moved, they let out a collective “Ooooh”.
“Your Highness, please come this way. This spot is the safest.”
“No, idiot. Your Highness, that side is where a sword is less likely to fly toward you by accident during the spar.”
As if a tidal wave would occur wherever she passed, the subjugation members pointed all over the training ground in a rush.
Compared to the first time she had come to the training ground, they were speaking to her much more comfortably now.
Most of the subjugation members were commoners, and since they had not witnessed her past misdeeds at the Imperial Palace firsthand, they seemed to adapt quickly.
In the end, following Ferento’s guidance, Liselotte also settled into a position a fair distance away.
Only then did Eren adjust his stance.
Unlike Masid, who was glaring as though he wanted to kill him, Eren looked composed and unperturbed.
Ail, acting as the referee, stood at the center, raised his hand, and shouted,
“Then, we will now begin the spar between Sir Masid and His Highness, the Grand Duke.”
The moment he nimbly retreated backward, Masid charged in at high speed.
Faster than her eyes could track, clang, the sound of blades colliding rang painfully in her ears.
He had not become a knight for nothing; his movements were agile.
However, they were still not enough to match Eren once he moved.
Kkagagang—
As the two locked blades and faced off, Eren, who had remained completely still without even a twitch, shoved Masid back with sheer strength.
The entire sequence felt more like fighting a monster than a spar between people, rough and brutal.
Liselotte leaned forward slightly to see more clearly.
Strangely, because Eren’s movement path had him turned away from her, she could not see the blade well.
‘What? I can’t really see it.’
At this point, it felt as suffocating as if someone had forcibly censored a crucial scene in an adults-only movie with a white blur.
