Chapter 90

Refusing all the gifts?

Yes, My Lord.

Didnt she even check what they were?

No, My Lord. She refused without even opening them.

Hmm.

Duke Sheretif sat in the stands, he pondered in silence.

She dismissed the high-priced magical items that most people could never afford in their lifetime with just a word.

It arrived as a gift in his name, and anyone with common sense would have anticipated it to be an expensive luxury item, even without inspecting it.

Even if they werent like ancestral relics, if they were rare enough to be found only occasionally through auctions, they could be called luxury goods without hesitation.

Did she refuse such things without even looking at them?

Either very confident or very clever.

The moment one receives support from Duke Sheretif, a certain favor is created. Merely accepting something from him, regardless of whether theres substantial alignment of interests, creates an implicit obligation.

Thus, if she were to suffer defeat and elimination from the tournament, even in the absence of concrete proof, suspicions would inevitably arise linking her losses to the gifts she received.

She would be subject to speculation, accused of possibly trading victory to nobles in return for financial gain or other favors.

So, refusing the gifts now could be interpreted as ensuring both safety and maintaining her value.

Of course, there are also those who have lost their minds in the name of reciprocation.

Well, those guys all became corpses during the war.

Loyalists are necessary in times of chaos.

Humans are political beings, and in times when survival and struggle are not urgent, humans are bound to become political beings.

Duke Sheretif nodded.

Not bad for a third son of a mercenary noble family, he thought. After utilizing him effectively and obtaining his value, it wouldnt be too difficult to discard him without any loss.

Elizaveta indeed wields control over Intelligent Command, to have discovered such a man, he mused.

If he loses, we shall host a grand feast in honor of the man from Krasilov who fought so valiantly.

Yes, My Lord.

As the herald bowed and stepped back, Duke Sheretif added one more passing remark.

But if he wins, kill him by any means necessary. This era no longer reveres heroes.

Third-rate romances like nameless knights winning the princesss love through sheer valor and leading a peaceful reign are no longer necessary.

The world no longer wishes for one persons blade dancing above the masses.

Heroic tales easily sway the masses, especially the more dramatic and glamorous they are.

Elizaveta already possessed a sufficient level of wealth and control. If combined with military force and the support of the people it would be nothing short of the resurgence of a ruler with more solid sovereignty than any absolute monarchy in the past.

Therefore, the last move against that man by Elizaveta. Even if he were to defeat the strongest elf, it would be the birth of a great nobody. No, precisely because of that.

He must be eliminated now, before he blossoms fully.

***

[Ivan Petrovich Yermov, enters!!]

Poor-quality armor, not even properly stamped, creaks as it ascends.

Accompanied by heavy footsteps, clanking and clanging.

[Here he comes.]

Edel looked at Ivan approaching, her fingers itching to draw her sword and engage in a dance of blades.

Finally, Ivan stamped firmly on the stage. The eyes of the two knights met.

-Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo!!

The audience booed. Neither knight was showing proper respect to the nobility and the royal family.

The two warriors raised their helmets, not showing their faces, not bowing towards the royal family, just staring at each other.

An elf clad in magnificent magic-enhanced armor, and a third son of an unknown provincial noble.

The two eccentric duelists both slowly drew their swords without waiting for anyones signal.

Shrrrring.

The blades soared towards the sky and simultaneously stopped at a 15-degree angle towards each other.

Ignoring respect for the ruler, the nation, or the people, the two warriors now only displayed deference to each other.

Come on, Winter Hound. Show me what youre made of!

Edel.

Ivan nodded briefly.

With his superhuman senses, he could even discern the opponents heartbeat within arms reach.

Was it tension? Or pleasure? The cheerful rhythm of heartbeats seemed to hang in the air somewhere between them.

Ivan studied Edels stance.

As usual. Perfectly neutral, without any discernible habits.

Her spine straight, shoulders slightly hunched to conceal the frontal width.

Her right hand extended the sword without any twitch. That signifies perfect muscle control.

Even if dementia were to strike, even if physical abilities were diminished by aging, her youth remained intact.

Then, shall I try this too?

Edels excitement surged as she swung her sword. And once again, he followed. As if he could follow until her swordplay reached beyond the realm of artistry. Rather, as if demanding the next technique to be presented.

Under her helmet, the corners of Edels mouth lifted.

Show me more. I will show you more. So, you too, show me what comes next. How far can you go? How far can you keep up?

With a human body, can you ignite starlight in your brief life?

Clang!!

Edel admired the acrobatics of deflecting her sword with the helmet. Ah, yes, you werent a knight.

Not a knight, but a mercenary closer to a soldier.

Weapons, armor, ultimately just military supplies with no attachment.

Even his own body was largely seen as a war tool, willing to sacrifice anything as long as the goal could be achieved.

Then so be it. Lets see how long that determination will last and what comes next.

Edel leaned back to avoid the flying blade.

The sword grazed off the curvature of the helmet. Meanwhile, Ivans eyes, visible between the broken helmet pieces, shook with amazement.

Finding joy in it, Edel laughed.

How about that? Theres merit in seeing and imitating.

Fully reproducing Ivans defense, Edel stopped with her sword extended.

***

The two warriors, having struck each others heads, froze like posts.

Even the spectators, forgetting to swallow their saliva, stood frozen in silence.

In the midst of the tableau of the tournament, the two warriors looked at each other through their broken helmets, smiling like a painting.

Wasnt it dementia?

Dementia?

Edel fell silent for a moment.

What what does that mean?

Your skill clearly didnt reach its peak. Definitely not until then.

Well, uh, there were circumstances, so?

Dementia due to old age is inevitable even for elves, so I guessed my chances and came here.

Hmm. Uh. So, what now?

Edel shook her head as she removed her helmet. Her black hair swayed like waves, and she tied it tightly back.

With one eye covered by a colorful eyepatch and the other gleaming golden like an eagles, she stared sharply at Ivan.

Do you see the odds now?

Well see.

Ivan also removed his half-broken helmet and threw it to the ground.

As the helmet shattered, blood dripped from the wounds, wetting his beard as it fell with a thud.

Take off your armor, John. I need to see your full power.

Right.

Clang, clunk. Thick armor fell off the bodies of the two knights and rolled onto the ground.

With a thud, Edel relaxed her body and smiled, dressed in just a shirt and a pair of leather pants.

Now theres no distraction. Its just you and me here. Hold your sword and look at me. Not for victory, not for a goal, not for a strategy, not for a mission. Look at your opponent.

Edel angled her sword towards Ivan.

The brief exchange of glances, the courtesy towards each other when the two knights first met.

Step on the ground, reach for the sky, grasp your sword, and only look at your opponent. Thats the first virtue of a swordsman, of martial arts.

Ivan responded without a word, assuming the same posture.

The two warriors, now without armor, exchanged the same courtesy towards each other.

Waaaaahhhhh!!!

The crowd erupted like a tidal wave, shouting.

*

Authors Note (Postscript): I felt like I didnt explain the timeline well enough!

Edel in the armor state Ivan first saw: remote-controlled

Day two of the match: Edel arrives at Frechenkaya.

Day three of the match: Edels original body competes (in armor)

Day four of the match: Today. Edel and Ivan are competing in their original bodies.

*

Wow, Ive been feeling unwell all weekend, and when I got tested, it turns out its not the flu, its COVID!

Can you believe people are still getting COVID these days? Getting it twice is a bit too much, feels unfair!

Still, as a commemoration of getting COVID, I didnt have to go to work at the factory today, so Im posting early! Yes! Please look forward to the next episode!

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