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Chapter 20
Logan watched the sparring match before him with a pleased smile.
If only the killing intent emanating from Adeline’s sword hadn’t grown stronger and stronger, that pleased expression might have lasted the whole day.
However, Adeline’s strikes were far too cruel.
Her blade swung with lethal precision—blows that could easily take a life.
Logan’s expression quickly hardened, his hand unconsciously gripping his sword hilt.
Even as a spectator, he could feel the murderous aura directed at Hirkan and tense up.
A sharp, icy energy radiated from Adeline’s blade.
Hirkan, who had barely grasped the basics of swordsmanship, couldn’t properly deflect her attacks.
Even to Logan’s eyes, the difference in skill and experience between the two was glaring.
The fierce close-quarters exchange allowed Hirkan no time to breathe. It was a one-sided match.
Each time Adeline’s sword moved, a new wound opened on Hirkan’s body.
He did his best to defend, but the relentless barrage was overwhelming.
Hirkan nearly dropped his sword several times.
His fingers were numb, his wrist tingling.
Thanks to the lessons he had received from the former Duke of Bergen, he barely managed to block the blows, but the more he defended, the more he bled.
When Adeline’s sword grazed his arm, it was almost merciful compared to the times she slashed at his shoulder, face, or even his neck.
It had only been a few swings, and yet Hirkan’s body was covered with red lines—wounds of all sizes.
The contrast with Adeline, who remained untouched, was stark.
Their physical strength might have been similar, but Hirkan lacked skill, finesse, and experience.
His defeat was inevitable.
Even someone who knew nothing about swordsmanship could see that.
Meanwhile, Adeline continued her onslaught without breaking a sweat.
Crimson blood dripped from the edge of her blade.
Hirkan, gasping for breath, tightened his grip on his sword again—but as Adeline leapt forward once more, he was forced to stumble backward.
Just as Her Highness had said—effort alone was not enough.
He couldn’t hold out much longer.
If he didn’t give it his all, he would lose to her blade.
No—he might die.
When his eyes met hers—those dazzling golden eyes—he felt it clearly:
the unmistakable intent to kill.
No matter how much she tried to hide or suppress it, her killing intent had slipped out.
Only then did Hirkan finally realize what Adeline meant.
At the start of the duel, he had worried about accidentally injuring her—what a meaningless concern that had been.
The princess before him wasn’t merely serious; she was deadly serious.
The thought of not wanting to harm such a noble girl had been arrogance on his part.
Clang!
Their steel blades collided, sparks flying.
Adeline was slightly surprised that, even with all her strength, Hirkan still hadn’t fallen.
She barely noticed his rough breathing or his many wounds—what mattered was that, despite all her attacks, his head still remained on his shoulders.
Adeline clicked her tongue softly.
So even this wasn’t enough?
She had thought it would be easy to kill him since he was still young.
That was arrogance.
With that realization, Adeline infused her sword with magic.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to shatter Hirkan’s sword—and take his neck in the same stroke.
There was no reason to prolong the fight any longer.
Having resolved to finish it, Adeline murmured an incantation under her breath and gathered all her mana.
Even if Hirkan somehow managed to block her sword, it didn’t matter.
He would die either way.
This duel would end here.
At that very moment, every hair on Hirkan’s body stood on end.
Even when he’d faced a horde of club-wielding orcs deep in the northern mountains, he hadn’t been this terrified.
His instincts screamed danger—if he didn’t stop now, he would die.
He quickly dropped his sword and raised his hands.
“I surrender.”
But Adeline had already launched herself forward.
Her sword was swinging, aimed squarely at his neck.
It was a clean, precise strike—one that left no room to dodge.
No matter what he did, it would be useless.
Hirkan felt the cold certainty of death wash over him.
He had already dropped his weapon; there was no way to defend himself.
Whatever he tried—he would either be fatally wounded or die outright.
Adeline’s blade was almost upon him.
The edge gleamed blue just a hand’s breadth from his throat.
Hirkan’s dazed eyes reflected Adeline’s murderous expression.
There was no mistake.
It was a perfect strike.
He was staring death in the face.
And the one who saved him—was Logan.
Before anyone realized it, Logan’s sword had left its sheath and intercepted Adeline’s blow.
Even though she had anticipated his intervention, Adeline didn’t lose her smile when her strike was blocked.
As soon as her sword was deflected, she cast a spell.
Logan’s horrified shout echoed: “Stop!”
But the mana she had scattered through the air had already ignited—charging straight at Hirkan.
Fireball.
A basic spell, yes—but more than enough to kill a child.
In the next instant, Logan flung Adeline’s sword aside and struck the oncoming fireball with the flat of his blade, deflecting it away from Hirkan’s face.
Adeline’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Even if it was only a simple spell—deflecting it at such close range, in that instant—it was beyond human reflexes.
Not even Theros had ever shown such skill.
Such movement and precision were nearly divine.
And as far as Adeline knew, only Transcendents could wield such mastery.
“…Are you a Transcendent?” she asked.
“Officially, I’m just a knight,” Logan replied.
“Unofficially, then?”
“Ha! Does that matter right now? If I hadn’t interfered, that boy would’ve died—by your sword or your magic! Answer me, Adeline—did you truly mean to kill him?”
At his outburst, Adeline glanced at Hirkan.
The boy still looked utterly lost, not understanding what had just happened.
That innocent face pricked her with a faint sense of guilt—but she couldn’t allow herself to feel it.
He looked like a boy, but he was Hirkan. Killing him was her duty.
“…Was I not supposed to kill him?” she asked calmly.
Logan’s face twisted in disbelief.
“Do you hear yourself!?”
“I thought this match was meant to teach me real combat experience,” she said evenly. “Was I mistaken? You should have told me beforehand.”
“Don’t twist words! You were about to commit murder!”
“Murder? Please choose your words carefully. Did I kill anyone? Hirkan is still alive. I admit my sword was a bit rough, but—surely you understand. A soft-hearted ruler cannot lead Teraaden. I’ll be the one to pass death sentences and order executions. If I’ve never taken a life, I’ll be a laughingstock.”
“Adeline!”
“If you don’t kill, you die. That’s all I know. I won. He lost. And from the moment we chose real blades, this stopped being a mere sparring match.”
“That’s absurd!”
“Absurd? Think about who I am. He dared to face the princess of Teraaden in a true duel—and you expect him to walk out of Astia Palace alive? That’s what’s absurd.”
“You’ve lost your sense of reason! You even used magic! Not even mercenaries treat sparring partners that way. Put your sword down, Adeline!”
At his command, Adeline reluctantly lowered her sword.
She hadn’t killed Hirkan. That meant this wasn’t victory.
Even with a sword in hand, she couldn’t kill him.
That was unacceptable.
But Logan was a Transcendent of the North—there was no way to kill Hirkan under his watchful eyes.
If she couldn’t kill him now, then what could she do instead?
Yes—if she couldn’t take his life, she would take him.
If she claimed him as the victor’s prize, that would be the next best thing.
If she couldn’t kill him here, then she had to keep him close—within reach.
But she couldn’t simply demand he be handed over; the former Duke of Bergen would refuse.
After all, he had already declared he would make Hirkan his disciple.
After thinking for a moment, Adeline spoke.
“Do you acknowledge that I won?”
“I do,” Logan said reluctantly.
“Then you also acknowledge that I have the right to exercise the victor’s privilege, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Step aside. I must claim my right.”
Logan’s eyes widened.
The victor’s privilege—she meant to claim Hirkan’s life after all!
“Adeline! This was a sparring match, not a duel to the death! Do you think this is a battlefield? What meaning is there in taking the life of some common-born boy whose origins we don’t even know?”
“He dared raise a real blade against the princess of Teraaden. Naturally, he should’ve been prepared to stake his life on it.”
Logan was speechless.
His wide eyes were filled with disbelief.
“That’s madness! You’ll be ruler of Teraaden one day—you know well what’s wrong with your words! What kind of monarch treats her people’s lives so lightly!?”
His booming voice filled the air with pressure.
He was certain she would relent—but Adeline didn’t even flinch.
She was used to that kind of anger.
Theros, her husband, had been the same.
Whenever he grew angry, his aura had been unbearable—yet she had endured it, out of love.
Looking back now, it was almost laughable how she had always placed love and respect for her husband above her own imperial authority.
When her brief recollection ended, Adeline spoke again—her voice calm and unwavering.
“Then let’s do this instead. Give Hirkan to me.”
“What did you say?”
“That was my goal from the beginning. Did you really think I’d kill him recklessly?”
Logan felt speechless.
She had clearly intended to kill the boy moments ago—and now she lied as if it were nothing.
“For what reason? If you mean to make him a servant at the Astia Palace, I can’t allow that. His talent is too precious to waste.”
“A servant? Did I say that?”
“Then what?”
“I’ll make him my personal attendant. If his talent blossoms, he might one day become a royal guard.”
“An attendant? You already have handmaidens.”
“You must not know—they’ve all begun to disregard the palace’s authority.”
“What do you mean?”
“Though they’re called handmaidens, they’re all noble daughters from high-ranking families. Raised like princesses themselves, destined to marry well and rule households—they know nothing of loyalty. They chatter like greenhouse flowers instead of acting as my hands and feet.”
“I understand. But still, choose a girl, not a boy. If you look around the capital, you’ll surely find a talented young woman. I’ll even find one for you myself.”
“No. I refuse. I like him. He survived my sword, didn’t he? Granted, Grandfather saved him halfway—but luck is a kind of strength too. Come to think of it, Grandfather has never once given me a birthday gift. I’ll take Hirkan as the one I’ve been owed. Consider him my belated birthday present.”
“Adeline!”
“Surely you wouldn’t deny me this, after interrupting my duel and preventing me from taking what I wanted? I trust you won’t.”
Her voice was sharp as steel.
Logan sighed and shook his head helplessly.
“To bring a child of unknown birth—possibly even a serf—into the Astia Palace as your personal attendant… How can I face His Majesty after that?”
“You say that, but you’ve always disliked His Majesty, haven’t you? You have nothing to lose. Consider this another chance to earn his disfavor—and take pleasure in it.”
Logan groaned, utterly defeated.
“With you, Adeline… there’s simply no winning an argument.”
