"Heh heh, what a shame. The golden female knight beside His Highness the
"Is that so?" A cold glint flashed through
Lorist smiled and nodded toward Count Chiugivek. "Would you tell us about those formidable generals under the Second Prince's command? Commanding an army of three hundred thousand, he must have no shortage of valiant knights. Who are the Five Tigers you mentioned?"
"Of course. I'd be happy to explain for the Count." Count Chiugivek grabbed another small linen cloth from the table, dabbed his forehead, and stood up.
Count Dalek of the Sabagi Duchy, seated at the table to his left, looked at him curiously. He had already noticed something off about Count Chiugivek. The man seemed rather deferential toward that young northern Count sitting across from him. Every response, every gesture and posture showed more respect than he displayed toward Grand Duke Fisablen, who sat at the head of the table.
"In truth, the Second Prince has no fewer than twenty to thirty Golden Knights under his command, and some two to three hundred Silver Knights besides. He also has two First-Class Great Swordmasters at his side, though those two are retainers of the Andinak royal family who came to the Second Prince's side after the Third Prince's death, responsible for protecting his life.
Among the Second Prince's many Golden Knights, the ones he trusts most are what's known as the 'One Flower and Five Tigers.' The One Flower is that golden female knight called Krisha. She commands the Second Prince's personal guard, so she can issue orders on his behalf. The Five Tigers are five Golden Knights. They may not be the strongest fighters among the Second Prince's many Golden Knights, but they are undeniably his five most capable field commanders.
The commander of the First Royal Guard Corps is Bowen Corti, a Golden Three-Star. He's said to have served the Second Prince the longest. The commander of the Second Royal Guard Corps is Hisred, another of the Second Prince's old subordinates. The remaining three serve as army group commanders. Among them, the Golden Knight Velibalo was ordered to lead the newly formed army groups composed of prisoners. When he was ambushed in Majik Province and seventy thousand men were drowned by floodwaters, he felt too ashamed to face the Second Prince again and charged into the enemy ranks, dying a heroic death.
Then there are the so-called 'Tiger Two' and 'Tiger Three'—Bensky, a Golden Two-Star Knight, and Yaritom, a Golden One-Star Knight. Both are the Second Prince's trusted confidants and old subordinates. However, Yaritom did not accompany the Second Prince on this campaign to the Kingdom of Redelis, and Bensky appears to have been seriously wounded while besieging a noble's castle in Andevoid Province. He was sent back to the Kingdom of Andinak. The ones trapped inside the royal city of Fedriga were that golden female knight and the two Royal Guard Corps commanders.
After we captured Fedriga, we searched for a long time but simply couldn't locate that golden female knight or the two Royal Guard Corps commanders. In the end, we could only suspect that the moment the city fell, the Second Prince had already escaped through secret tunnels with his confidants and personal guard. What's most baffling is that this group vanished without a trace, just like the First Prince did. We expanded our search area considerably but found nothing."
"Count Chiugivek, I'd like to ask—two of my friends served under the Second Prince. One is called Karitok, the other Sende. Four or five years ago, they were already Silver Three-Star Knights. Have you perhaps heard their names? Do you know what became of them?" Lorist asked.
Count Chiugivek furrowed his brow in thought for a long while, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Count
Lorist placed a hand over his heart and bowed sincerely to Count Chiugivek. "I'm very grateful for your help."
Count Chiugivek hurriedly returned the gesture. "Please, don't mention it, Count Norton. It's my honor to be of service."
"Heh heh heh..." The Golden Three-Star Knight beside young Prince Dock suddenly burst into loud laughter, pointing at Lorist as he asked Count Chiugivek: "You can't be serious, Count Chiugivek. You're saying it's your *honor* to serve this petty northern noble? Ha ha ha, that's hilarious! Are you putting on a comedy act?"
"Shut your mouth!" Count Chiugivek's expression changed drastically.
"Count Chiugivek, watch your station. You're a Count of the Central Duchies. Don't go bowing and scraping to just anyone who walks in. Remember your noble standing!" Great Swordmaster Limard chimed in from the side, his tone dripping with mockery.
*Bang!* Jost slammed his palm on the table and shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at Great Swordmaster Limard. "Old man, who are you calling just anyone?!"
Great Swordmaster Limard flew into a rage. "You dare point your finger at me?!"
Limard wasn't stupid. Cases of Second-Class Great Swordmasters being cut down by First-Class ones happened more often than one might think. In the world of Great Swordmasters, unless you reached the half-step peak—just one step short of becoming a Sword Saint—you couldn't be certain that no other Great Swordmaster would challenge you. A talented First-Class Great Swordmaster with favorable conditions of timing, terrain, and morale could very well defeat a Third-Class one.
The First-Class Great Swordmaster sitting across from him radiated such intense bloodlust—it was clear he had clawed his way to his rank through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Despite being only First-Class, there was no guarantee that he, a Second-Class Great Swordmaster, would come out on top. None of those who had advanced through life-and-death combat were easy prey. In that moment, Limard deeply regretted opening his big mouth...
"Your Grace, you see..." Great Swordmaster Limard turned to Grand Duke Fisablen, his face still carrying an air of grievance, as though he and the others had been unprovokedly provoked by Jost and Great Swordmaster Hughes.
"Uh..." Grand Duke Fisablen, seated at the head of the table, had been enjoying the spectacle, but he hadn't expected Limard to suddenly pass the ball to his court. If the two sides clashed, he would have been quite happy to see what Lorist was made of before stepping in as a peacemaker once a victor emerged. But now that Limard had shown a willingness to back down, he had to speak up as the host.
"Count Norton, in truth, Great Swordmaster Limard and the others simply said a few extra words—they didn't name anyone in particular. There's no need to be so tense. Come, come, sit down. Let me offer you all a drink."
Grand Duke Fisablen's face could not be refused. Lorist lightly waved his hand, and Jost and Great Swordmaster Hughes returned to their seats.
Unfortunately, the wind refused to let the tree stand in peace. No sooner had they sat down than young Prince Dock sneered aloud: "These petty northern nobles certainly have short tempers. Was I wrong to call you just anyone? Your Grace, I fail to understand why you went out of your way to greet these northern barbarians personally while leaving us waiting outside for so long. What right do they have to make us wait—to make the nobles of the Central Duchies, who defeated the Second Prince's three-hundred-thousand-strong army, wait outside? I think I deserve an explanation, Grand Duke Fisablen..."
It turned out the young prince had been seething the entire time about having waited in the antechamber. In his eyes, when his own party had arrived, Grand Duke Fisablen hadn't even come out to the main hall and had merely received them in passing. Yet for these four northern nobles, the Grand Duke had gone out of the city to greet them. This was clearly a deliberate slight against the Central Duchies. What had these four northern barbarians done to deserve such treatment?
With a thunderous crash, this time it wasn't just Jost and Great Swordmaster Hughes—Baron
Prince Dock rolled his eyes dismissively. "Did I say something wrong? Northern barbarians are northern barbarians. They don't know the first thing about noble etiquette."
Lorist chuckled and rose to his feet, making a few calming gestures in the air. Those who had stood up reluctantly sat back down, though their bloodshot eyes remained fixed on Prince Dock.
Lorist looked left and right, then beckoned to a guard standing by the door. "You—come here."
The guard froze, pointing at his own nose, then glanced at Grand Duke Fisablen. When the Grand Duke nodded, he hurried over. "My lord, how may I help?"
Lorist smiled. "I'll need to borrow something from you."
With a swift motion, Lorist seized the guard's left hand and stripped off his glove.
The guard wore the standard cavalry equipment designated Model 103, sold by the Norton Family to the Fisablen Family. The glove was made of cowhide reinforced with iron plates, and even a single one carried considerable weight.
"Thanks. I'll return it shortly." Lorist turned and, with a flick of his wrist, hurled the iron-plated glove straight into Prince Dock's face. The impact was like a solid punch—the young prince screamed loudly, clutching the glove in one hand while pressing the other to his nose as tears and blood gushed forth...
"What do you think you're doing?!" Great Swordmaster Limard and the Golden Three-Star Knight sprang to their feet. Limard steadied the young prince and fixed Lorist with a furious glare, cursing at him. The Golden Three-Star Knight had already drawn his sword and planted himself before Prince Dock as though facing a mortal enemy, staring daggers at Lorist.
"There's no need to be so alarmed—did this Prince Dock not just say that we northern nobles don't understand noble etiquette? That is an insult and a slander against us northern nobles. I therefore believe such an insult must be washed away with blood. In accordance with noble etiquette, I hereby issue a challenge of knightly duel to this so-called prince. What pleases me is that he has shown at least a modicum of manly courage—he caught the glove I threw and accepted my challenge. So I'd like to know: is the young prince ready? I'll be waiting for him to come out and duel..."
Lorist walked to the center of the great hall. "You two, step aside. This is between your prince and me—a duel. Would you desecrate this sacred trial by combat? What will he use—an axe, a lance, or a sword? Or shall we fight on horseback? Whatever he chooses, I'll accept..."
"A duel..." Great Swordmaster Limard and the Golden Three-Star Knight turned their heads, their disbelieving gazes falling on the iron-plated glove clutched in Prince Dock's hand.
...
Prince Dock had finally recovered enough to speak. Tears and snot streamed down one side of his face while his hand waved the iron glove frantically. "Kill—kill him! He dared—he dared throw something at me—hit me..."
Great Swordmaster Limard bitterly reminded him from the side: "Your—Your Highness, what he threw was a glove. Since you caught it, that means you've accepted the duel..."
Lorist's side erupted in loud laughter from Count Kenmais, Baron Filim, and the others. "That's right—a duel! Who would've thought this fop of a prince had some manly courage after all, daring to face Lock in a duel to the death! Ha ha! Just wait to be torn to pieces..."
"Step forward and show us the courage of the Central Duchies' nobles!" Only Jost was shouting such things.
"What? A duel to the death... Ah, I'm not doing that!" Once Prince Dock understood what everyone was saying, he glanced down at the iron glove in his hand and threw it to the ground in terror.
"Your Highness..." Now Great Swordmaster Limard and the Golden Knight were in a panic. If word got out that he had accepted the glove only to refuse the duel, the Forlundo family's reputation would be utterly destroyed. Prince Dock would carry the title of coward for the rest of his life.
"I—I didn't know it was a glove! If I'd known, I never would have caught it! I—I won't duel this filthy barbarian. His—his status doesn't match m-mine..." Prince Dock threw a prolonged fit, simply refusing to go out and fight.
"Your Highness, this won't do. If you don't go out and fight, the Forlundo Duchy's honor will be completely ruined. Trust me—when the Grand Duke hears about this upon our return, your claim to inheritance will certainly be revoked. Just go duel; it'll be fine. That Count is merely a
"No—no way. He's so tall and so brawny. I—I definitely can't beat him..."
"I say, have you made up your mind? Prince, if you don't dare to fight yourself, I'm willing to allow one of your subordinates to fight in your stead." Lorist was growing impatient.
"You—you mean that?" Prince Dock brightened immediately, pointing at the Golden Three-Star Knight. "Heinliman, you go fight in my place!"
"Coward!" Jost and the others roared.
The Golden Three-Star Knight named Heinliman drew his sword and walked to stand opposite Lorist.
Having been spared from fighting personally, Prince Dock rallied. "Heinliman, teach him a lesson! Chop off his hand! Tear his mouth apart..."
"Aren't you going to draw your sword?" Heinliman glared at Lorist with fury, his face darkened to the point of freezing over...
Lorist gave him a mocking glance. "Against you? Drawing my sword would mean I've already lost."
Heinliman's hair practically stood on end, veins bulging on his hands. "I—I'm furious! Go—go die!"
His longsword erupted with golden sword light as Heinliman lunged forward.
To everyone's eyes, all they saw was the Golden Knight called Heinliman and Lorist pass each other in a blur. Then came a soft crack. Heinliman, who had charged past Lorist, suddenly froze in place behind him. He seemed to reach for his neck, but before his hand even reached his chest, his entire body shuddered, he toppled to the ground, kicked twice, and lay still.
One move! Bare-handed Lorist had one-shotted a Golden Three-Star Knight!
...
(To be continued.)