Chapter 209
The sword, the rose, and the lion (1)
I walked to the center of the dojo, which was an open field surrounded by walls.
‘Schuck~’
I then came to a standstill in front of Duncan Seymour Tudor and raised my chin arrogantly. The duke’s eyes became sharp; he clearly did not like my attitude. I added greater momentum to my energy, and my skin began tingling. I wanted to laugh, seeing that my fierce energy was touching Duncan’s nerves once more. His face hardened, and at the same time, stormy energy began to rage around him.
It was the same energy I had felt when I had just returned from the north when the Duke had tried to strike fear into Leonberg’s knights. But this time was different, this time, it was directed towards me, and I was the Crown Prince of the kingdom.
To bare such energy in my presence was an act that went far beyond the line.
“The Duke of Teuton unleashes his energy and refuses to pay tribute to the Crown Prince of Leonberg!”
The palace knights who had arrived early and stood all round the dojo started screaming at once. Even if they spoke in Leonbergian, Duncan could surely understand the meaning of their cries.
Nevertheless, the duke did not lessen his energy, nor did he show any courtesy to me. He merely stood upright and looked at Leonberg’s knights.
“If you continue with this rudeness, we will consider it a grave affront!”
One hundred palace knights put their hands on their sword hilts and repeatedly warned the duke. Not only Duncan but also the Teutonic knights did not soften their energy at all. The palace knights gave no further warnings.
‘Sheeek!’
They drew their swords without hesitation and advanced upon Teuton’s knights. Hundreds of palace guards appeared on the walls surrounding the training field, aiming their bows.
“This the royal palace, home of the monarchs of the Leonberg Kingdom! Anyone who will not pay homage to the Crown Prince is not entitled to be here!”
“From this point on, we will disarm you according to protocol!”
Even as Teuton’s knights heard the palace knights’ sharp cries, they did not show the least bit of agitation. It was common practice to compete with energy before contests, so it seemed that the Teutons thought that the palace knights’ aggressive actions were merely done to defeat their spirits. But the palace knights were not playing some trick or doing anything wrong.
After the loss of the queen during the imperial siege, the palace knights had become sharper. They were prepared to cut down anything and anyone that threatened the royal family’s dignity and safety – even if their opponents were the Rosethorn knights and the best knight in the west, famous across the continent.
As the palace knights began to advance with their swords and shields, a slight flurry of movement spread through Teuton’s knights. Duncan Seymour Tudor frowned at me.
His eyes seemed to ask me why I was making such a big deal as if he was urging me to restrain the palace knights. I snorted. Why would I hold them back? They were just doing their job.
If there was something wrong, then it was the Teutons who ignored Leonberg’s dignity and acted as they willed.
‘Shuck~ shuck~’
I did nothing, and the palace knights kept advancing on the Teutons, step by step. And they finally reached the front of the Teutonic knights, at such a distance that they could strike them if they swung their swords. If things went on like this, the Teutons would suffer the shame of being disarmed by knights from another country.
‘Sheeek!’
The Rosethorn knights could bear the pressure no more and drew their swords, all at once. Throw away your swords; obey the instructions – the palace knights shouted no warnings. They instead quietly channeled their mana to the edges of their blades and prepared for battle.
The atmosphere was tense, bloody, making me feel as if swords would clash right away.
‘Shh~’
Duncan Seymour Tudor raised his hand. The energy that had risen from the Rosethorn knights and Duncan himself quickly dissipated into nothingness.
‘Cheoulkup~’
Teuton’s knights sheathed their swords at once and took up their stationary positions again. Duncan alternated his gaze between my knights and the palace knights with a hard face and then turned to me.
“Would you like a war?” he asked me coldly – in fluent Leonbergian.
“What? You can speak?”
I had thought he was arrogant; now I knew he was also deceptive.
“I asked if your kingdom wishes to be hostile to Teuton,” Duncan asked again instead of answering my words.
“Isn’t that what you want, Duke Seymour? I can only see your arrogant behavior in the heart of Leonberg as a deliberate provocation.”
“Do you truly think so?” Slight ridicule appeared in his eyes. Duncan’s eyes seemed to say that just because we were a kingdom didn’t mean that we had the same character as Teuton.
“Hahaha,” I laughed – a mad burst of laughter that made me bend at the waist.
“Wow! You’re driving me crazy.”
Duncan frowned at my sudden laughter.
“What is so funny?”
I chuckled for a while and answered him.
“One kingdom meets a kingdom that has forgotten the glory of its past and was about to perish. Meanwhile, the other kingdom meets one which is drunk on the glory of their past and does not know what happens in the present. Is there anything more complicated than this?”
The arrogant duke frowned. It seemed that he had realized that ‘the kingdom drunk on its past which does not know how to look forward’ referred to Teuton.
“I asked if you wanted a war,” Duncan asked, blatant provocation in his eyes.
“Before I answer that question, I will ask one of my own.”
Whether he accepted this or not, I kept talking.
“Leonberg has proven itself by winning the war against the Empire. What does Teuton have to prove its might, other than your old reputation as being the great power of the west? What I am asking is: Does Teuton deserve to be in alliance with Leonberg?”
The duke replied with a cold face, still openly ridiculing me.
“If the Empire was not engulfed in a civil war, you would not be in a position to be boasting. You would have been wiped out, as weak as you are.”
I laughed coldly as the duke revealed his true intentions.
“That is Teuton’s answer,” I noted and called a palace knight over to me.
“Yes, your Highness?”
“Go and tell Montpellier and Count Kirgayen,” I ordered while locking my gaze with Duncan’s, “to stop negotiations right away. There is no need for an alliance.”
The moment I was done speaking, the atmosphere of the dojo had become frozen. I enjoyed watching Duncan, Teuton’s handsome Duke. He still couldn’t figure it out. I could see he firmly believed I was bluffing just to break Teuton’s spirit and probably thought that I would rescind my order at any moment. I had no intention of doing so.
“Everything will be done according to your Highness’s will,” the palace knight said and left the training grounds.
“Now, this is my answer to your question,” I told Duncan, who had remained stiff until then. I could see the suspicion grow in him that it was too late for him to change my mind. I relaxed and appreciated the moment when his suspicion turned into embarrassment.
“You are quite prestigious in your home country. Your authority as envoy is great, and so you hope to overturn our negotiations arbitrarily,” I said in a cold tone.
“Your Highness’s words are not correct,” a woman’s voice spoke up from behind me.
“The Duke of Seymour certainly does not have the authority to end our negotiations.”
The voice was soft, as if whispering, yet quite powerful. I turned around.
“Because I, Hestia Neumann Tudor, is in charge of this delegation.”
And there stood Teuton’s princess, Hestia Neumann Tudor.
“Duke Seymour. If you have done something wrong, it is only right that you apologize.”
She still had the same slender figure that would fly away were the wind to pick up, but Hestia had a different bearing than yesterday when she had only looked weak.
“Please forgive the rudeness.” Duncan Seymour Tudor bowed his head.
The change in his attitude was so dramatic that it bordered on the absurd.
“A sincere apology has been given to the offended party. I believe the duke’s repentance has been fully conveyed to his Highness the Crown Prince,” Princess Hestia said as she looked at me, her voice as soft as that of a child’s. But the nature of her gaze really blew my mind, as if she was telling me: “All you really wanted was the duke’s apology.”
There no longer existed the princess who did not know the world; there was only an insidious woman who might be hatching a hundred plans. Princess Hestia glanced at me while Duncan Seymour Tudor quietly stood behind her – as it had been his natural place from the beginning. I watched them without being disturbed, as I already knew: Hestia Neumann Tudor, Princess of Teuton, was the real authority of their delegation.
“I will accept the apology,” I said as I waved my hand.
‘shuuck~’
The palace knights who had surrounded the Teutons withdrew at once, and the archers who had filled the walls disappeared. The princess squinted and laughed. She seemed very pleased with my quick decision.
“Of course, a single word will not make the anger of my other knights disappear so easily.”
My words stiffened Hestia’s smile.
“The excess emotions will be resolved by a contest of swords.”
I glanced at the princess and then spoke to the Duke of Seymour.
“Now that nothing else distracts us, let’s start.”
* * *
Knights from both sides stood face to face, with the training ring in the middle. It was some time since the energy of the knights who had stood up against us had been released, but the tension grew ever greater.
Meanwhile, Duncan glanced at me and asked how we would proceed with the contest.
“It can be done as a group,” he suggested, “or one against one. The format doesn’t matter. Teuton will follow with whatever you decide.”
Concessions are given by those who hold the firm belief that they have the upper hand, and I could see Duncan thought that Teuton was the strongest. I did not want to waste any more time.
“Then we will do it one versus one, but the victor will continue fighting in the next battle.”
“How many will you choose?” Duncan asked, and I chuckled. Leonberg’s knights have been sending eager glances my way for a while now, hoping that they would be the ones to enter the ring.
Their gazes were so hot that it felt as if my back was heating up. I wasn’t sure, but I guessed that those who didn’t get a chance would hold it against me forever. I didn’t want to give Leonberg’s knights a reason to resentment me.
“We have this entire place prepared. It’ll be no fun if only a few people compete.”
“Then-”
“We fight until either side concedes defeat, or until they have none left who can compete. In that way, no one will be left out.”
A small cheer erupted from behind my back. My knights had been fighting like dogs, struggling on both the northern and southern fronts. Now they were quartered in the royal palace and told to behave themselves. They were quite frustrated and bored, so I understood their enthusiasm.
“I will go first.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I’ll be first.”
When I turned around, I saw Leonberg’s knights bickering with each other.
Quéon had stated that he had to go first due to his position as commander of the Black Lancers. Eli and Arwen laughed as they interjected themselves into the discussion, saying that there were countless reasons for them to go first. There was no greater mess than this.
“It’s like they’re different persons just because they want to fight,” Eli suddenly told me, acting as if it was absurd.
“You’re one to talk,” I replied, knowing that Eli was just like them.
While they bickered like that, I heard the duke’s voice.
“Aren’t Leonberg’s knights ready yet?”
Unlike my knights, the duke’s were quietly waiting for him to call them by name. Their discipline was admirable, and it was something to be imitated.
“From now on, I’ll send whoever talks out last.”
And that was how I immediately made Leonberg’s knights follow the Teuton example.
“I believe both sides will try their best to compete and show their skill without breaking the harmony between our two countries.”
I laughed as I heard the princess’s words, who had appointed herself as the referee. There had never been harmony in the first place, but there was certainly something that could be broken down – Teuton’s bloated pride, and maybe a few heads.
“The victor shows goodwill to the defeated, and the loser honors the winner. I hope that there will be no unnecessary casualties. Even if your eyes are on your opponent’s sword, always keep mercy in your heart and hands.”
Princess Hestia stated that the combatants had to be attentive so that the contest did not overheat, with ill will being bred between the contenders. But what could I do? Contrary to the princess, I didn’t want this contest to be a boring affair.
So, just when Hestia was about to announce the start of the battles, I stepped forward and said, “If you desire a reward, then this will excite you.”
I was holding a dwarven sword forged by the meisters.
“Huah!”
The Rosethorn knights had been standing still, waiting for the contest to start; they all now took a collective gasp – even the handsome Duncan Seymour Tudor. Their fighting spirit had become a bit softened after the princess had talked for such a long time.
“I will give this sword to the knight who gains the most victories today.”
That fighting spirit now burned like fire, strong enough to rub off on Leonberg’s knights.
“Then, let’s start,” I said on behalf of Princess Hestia, who had forgotten her role while she had glanced at me, shocked. My performance had a terrifying effect. The Rosethorn knights had been quietly waiting a while ago. They now begged the duke to be chosen first.
“Call your first,” I said.
Duncan glanced at me and then called a knight.
“John Stewart.”
The Rosethorn knight who eagerly stepped forward had a very strong physique.
“Your Highness, first of all …”
“Me first!”
Leonberg’s knights were clamoring to be called out first.
“It’s too late,” I told them and pointed to the ring. While the other knights had quarreled, someone had already made their way to the center of the dojo. It was Eli.
Quéon booed, and the other knights joined him.
“I am Bernardo Eli. I am the eldest son of Count Eli, the leader of the Knights of Dawn, and Leonberg’s champion who had cut down countless knights in our war against the Empire.”
Whether they wanted to hear it or not, Bernardo Eli introduced himself grandiosely to Teuton’s knights.
“The victor shows goodwill to the defeated, and the loser honors the winner,” the princess of Teuton, who had only then snapped awake, announced the start of the contest.
And- ‘Klang~’ ‘Kududuk~’
John Stewart of the Rosethorn Knights rolled over the floor, without having landed a strike.
Duncan Seymour Tudor’s expression stiffened, and the Rosethorn Knights who had watched the duel were also looked shocked.
“Next!” Eli shouted, his chin raised arrogantly, and his Aura Blade still blazing.
It was the first time I had ever liked Bernardo Eli.
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