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Chapter 13
‘That damned good-for-nothing….’
The Ather family’s training grounds.
With the knights leaving the center clear and forming a circle around them, Ivan stood at one end of the dueling ground, grinding his teeth as he glared at Eric, who stood across from him.
‘Why is Father protecting such a useless failure? How many times has that fool disgraced our family name!’
And then there was the arrogant female knight who had brazenly rejected his proposal. She had gone into the monster-infested sewers with that halfwit Eric and not only brought him back alive but also reportedly felled multiple Named monsters on her own?
Neither he nor even his elder brother Allen had knights capable of such feats under their command. That was the kind of accomplishment only the knight-commander, the great heroes on the front lines, or the captains who remained by their father’s side—detached from the succession struggle—could achieve.
And yet, some greenhorn who had only just graduated from the Academy this year had achieved it.
Ivan could not understand why his father—who had always stayed out of the succession battles—would suddenly assign such a talent to Eric.
‘Is it really… just because of that bloodline? Because he’s the only legitimate heir?’
As Ivan recalled the condition Leona had given him earlier, last night’s memory surfaced in his mind.
“Kill that wastrel.”
Herald Ather.
The current Grand Duke’s uncle and the former head of the family.
“…Excuse me? What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. There’s a duel tomorrow, isn’t there? Since it’s fought with real swords, just look for the right chance and cut him down as though it were an accident.”
A secret proposition whispered to him late at night by a man who had always supported Allen.
“K-kill him? But Father would never let that pass! He was nearly assassinated recently—by one of his own guards, no less….”
“There’s nothing to fear. Even the lord of the house can’t demand responsibility for an ‘accident’ during a duel.”
“…An accident.”
“Yes, an accident. Besides, it wasn’t even you who initiated the duel, was it?”
The suggestion had been outrageous.
Why bother killing a useless fool who would ruin himself eventually?
“Today. That fool has earned merit.”
Until he heard those words.
“They say that knight of his not only uncovered monsters hiding in the sewers, but also slew several Named all on his own. Even if the wastrel didn’t do it himself, the merits of a knight are always credited to their lord.”
“Killed several Named… alone?”
A monster who had slain hundreds of creatures by himself.
Ivan had heard rumors that Eric’s knight was a prodigy who had graduated early from the Academy as valedictorian—but he hadn’t realized he was that extraordinary.
“Of course, I wouldn’t ask this for nothing. If you deal with that idiot properly, I’ll persuade the head to transfer that knight to you.”
A genius who, in just one month, had achieved feats that outshone years of Ivan’s hard-earned merits.
With such a knight at his side, perhaps he could finally seize an advantage in the succession battle where he lagged far behind Allen.
“Think carefully. Why else would the family head—who never cared about the succession before—suddenly assign such a man to the wastrel?”
And most of all—
It infuriated Ivan that simply by being the sole legitimate heir, Eric received the fatherly affection that neither he nor Allen could ever earn no matter how hard they tried.
Shiiing—
‘…You brought this on yourself, Eric.’
At last, Ivan drew his sword.
‘If you’d just stayed out of the succession struggle and gone on wasting your life in taverns, this wouldn’t be happening.’
An unfortunate accident in the middle of a duel.
People might suspect, given the vast difference in their skill—but the dead tell no tales.
Even if rumors spread, they wouldn’t last. If Herald and the other elders moved to cover it up, the knights present today would fall silent within days.
After all, no one liked that wastrel who only tarnished the family’s name.
‘I’ll end this before he even blinks!’
Thrust—
At the signal to begin, Ivan exploded forward, kicking off the ground toward Eric, who stood stiffly gripping his sword in nervousness.
“Y-young master! Wait—!”
The knight-commander watching the duel sensed something was wrong as Ivan closed the distance in an instant.
Though it was a duel, the youngest master’s eyes looked dangerous. With his ability, Ivan could easily subdue Eric without going all out.
But before the commander could intervene—
Whoosh!
Ivan’s blade came crashing down.
‘It’s over!’
Clang-clang!
“…What!”
Sparks burst as his sword scraped along the flat of Eric’s blade—Eric, who had bent at the waist and deflected at the perfect angle.
“H-how…?”
It had been a killing strike, delivered at full strength, meant to end the fight immediately. He’d planned to excuse it by saying Eric was simply too weak after only a month of training.
But for his blow to be blocked—by a useless Eric of all people?!
Swish—
While Ivan faltered in shock, Eric steadied himself and counterthrust.
Slash—
“Urgh!”
Ivan recoiled, blood splattering as a shallow cut opened on his cheek. He touched his face, then scowled at the crimson on his fingertips.
“…What was that just now?”
“Did the youngest master… get hit? By the wastrel?”
“N-no way! He must have gone easy on him!”
“But that strike earlier…”
The gathered knights murmured in disbelief.
“Silence!”
The knight-commander, Ulfric, barked to quiet the crowd. With wary eyes, he looked at Eric.
‘That… what on earth was that?’
Even if Ivan was said to fall short of Allen, he was still an Ather.
A genius among his peers, heir to the Grand Duke’s monstrous bloodline, already polished enough to serve on the battlefield.
Yet his full-force strike—a blow that even trained knights would struggle to block—had been deflected perfectly by a novice who had held a sword for barely a month.
‘It looked as though he knew exactly where the attack was coming from.’
Any clumsy defense would have gotten him cut down. But Eric had parried at the flawless angle, at the flawless timing.
“This damned….”
Humiliated by the stares of the knights, Ivan ground his teeth in rage.
Attacked and cut by the family’s wastrel—what greater disgrace could there be? Their whispers sounded like mockery of his shame.
“You worthless bastard!!”
Slash—!
Trembling with fury, Ivan struck again. He no longer cared about Herald’s scheme or his father’s favor toward Eric.
He just couldn’t bear the humiliation.
Thrust—
In the blink of an eye, Ivan’s blade pierced Eric’s chest.
“Th-this….”
“Young master!”
Gasps and screams erupted as the sword burst out through Eric’s back.
Leona rushed forward in horror.
Ivan smirked, murmuring to himself, “See? You should’ve stayed a fool and a wastrel instead of—”
But then his words stopped cold.
‘W-what…? My body won’t….’
To his shock, his body stiffened, unmoving. His eyes shook as he stared at Eric, who still stood before him.
Ding!
[Trait <Indomitable> activated!]
[Once per day, fatal damage exceeding maximum health is ignored. Survives in a near-death state.]
[Trait <Neurotoxin> activated!]
[‘Ivan Ather’ has been inflicted with Poisoned.]
“…Is that all?”
The chilling whisper echoed in his ear.
Eric, still impaled by the blade, straightened with effort. Ivan’s pupils shook violently.
‘H-how?! I struck him through the heart!’
He had felt the blade pierce deep—but Eric was still standing.
Whoosh—
With difficulty, Eric raised his arm and swung at Ivan’s exposed neck.
‘M-move! Damn it, move!!’
But his poisoned body wouldn’t respond.
‘I-I’m going to die!’
As the gleaming blade closed in, Ivan squeezed his eyes shut in terror.
Tap—
“Eek!”
The cold edge touched his throat. But after a long silence, he dared to open his eyes.
“Tch. Look at you, shaking.”
Eric sneered down at him.
“Y-you…!”
“I told you. A month was enough, didn’t I?”
Eric gestured to the knights around them.
Ivan turned—and saw their shocked faces.
“That wastrel just defeated Young Master Ivan….”
“Did he use poison or trickery?”
“But he really did move strangely in the middle there….”
“Trickery my ass! Didn’t you see Ivan aim to kill first? This is a sacred duel!”
It was undeniable. Ivan had tried to kill Eric. Even if the blow had narrowly missed a vital spot, the intent had been clear.
Such a thing was unthinkable in a knight’s sacred duel.
“From now on, show your elder brother the proper respect. Unless you want to be humiliated again.”
With that, Eric sheathed his sword and staggered away with Leona’s support.
Though a few questioned Ivan’s sudden paralysis, suspicion soon faded. Unlike poison or magic, traits left no trace. And the swordsmanship Eric had just displayed was enough to silence those who once mocked him as useless.
Splat—
“…Pathetic, wetting yourself like a child.”
“Are you alright, young master? You’re hurt…”
“Ah, I’ll live. Stings a bit, but nothing fatal.”
Eric gave Ivan one last scornful glance before leaving.
But then—
“You damned useless bastard!!”
Freed from the poison’s effect, Ivan snatched his sword from the ground and charged at Eric.
Or rather, tried to.
“Young master Ivan.”
Grab—
Ulfric, the knight-commander, caught his arm.
“L-let go of me!”
“Enough.”
Despite Ivan’s furious struggle, Ulfric only shook his head sadly.
“The duel is over.”
The victor was decided. Only Ivan refused to accept it.
“Uwaaaaaaahhhh!!”
A scream of rage tore through the silent training ground, leaving Ivan alone, broken in the center of the dueling ring.
