Chapter 50

An upset no one anticipated—a true underdog rebellion.

Rarely did the war game between mages and warriors end so swiftly, and even more rarely did the warriors dominate.

Yet, no one questioned their victory.

‘They’re completely spent.’

‘It’s hard to tell who’s the victor and who’s the vanquished.’

While the mages remained relatively unharmed, the warriors lay collapsed, exhausted and pale.

It was proof of how much they had poured into this battle, a testament to the desperate effort that had determined the outcome.

And so, the audience showered them with applause, honoring their tenacity.

Flash! Flash!

Some even took photos.

There was no doubt that tomorrow’s front-page news would be covered with these shots. It had been that kind of spectacular comeback.

“Was that an idea to unleash their strength explosively?”

“Hmm, more like concentrated force. It might even be a way to amplify potential.”

“A peculiar technique. Interesting. Did that knight teach it? Well, maybe it’s lacking in some areas…”

The more observant nobles noted that while fundamentally different from traditional Aura techniques, the explosive power was impressive.

However, they didn’t appear overly covetous, recognizing the technique’s shortcomings.

Besides the time restriction, it was physically taxing.

Such a method wasn’t exactly ‘noble.’

Intriguing as it was, it wasn’t seen as a replacement for Aura techniques, and above all, it lacked refinement.

Of course,

“—A lot of these guys only see what’s right in front of them. Isn’t that right, Rack?”

Those with an eye for true value, however, could appreciate its merits.

“They think what they have is the best. But they’re not entirely wrong. For those skilled in high-level techniques, this ‘skill’ won’t hold much allure. …Still.”

“Still?”

“Should someone master this skill, they’d be a formidable opponent. Not easily dismissed, even by other knights.”

“Oh? I expected you to have a narrow view, but you surprise me.”

“M-my lord…”

A knight from a duke’s household had quickly discerned the value of this new technique, and his lord teased him for it.

The Duke, Blake Vivian de Galahad, stroked his chin with interest.

“That young man is a delight to watch. Not only does he have skills, but he’s a talented teacher as well? Fascinating.”

“He’s not worth any serious regard.”

“He’s still sparking your competitive spirit, isn’t he? I thought he might even be in love with someone, given how worked up he gets.”

“!!?”

“Haha!”

Duke Blake laughed heartily.

He was one of the few his student might consider a rival.

Serious and composed to the point of boredom, this knight had started to show a hint of humanity since getting involved with that man.

It was as if the wooden puppet had finally begun to act like a person.

Of course, with his growing humanity, training time increased, and his sparring partners often wore grim expressions, but that was no concern of Duke Blake.

“I’d have claimed him as my own if he weren’t my nephew’s.”

“……”

“But maybe it’s better to keep him as an opponent for your growth. He’ll be a strong motivator.”

“It’s not like that. What’s that commoner even worth?”

“Tsk, tsk, not very honest, are we?”

“……”

Knights have always had their pride and competitive spirit—that’s often their problem.

“…Still, I suppose I prefer high-spirited knights to sly cats.”

But his moment of amusement quickly faded.

His gaze turned icy.

It was a constant irritant.

Perhaps it was the curse of the demon sword, but just being near those lions made his blood boil.

And even if it wasn’t due to the sword’s influence, Galahad and Lionel had already crossed an irreparable line.

They were, effectively, enemies!

Individuals he was determined to eliminate.

“Say the word, and we’ll mobilize the knights.”

“No. Losing you to the northern cats would be a greater loss.”

“My lord! We won’t lose!”

“No, you wouldn’t lose. But there would be sacrifices.”

“Ugh—!”

There was no guarantee they could decisively eliminate them, so they had to bide their time.

Rack de Durron, the Duke’s knight, couldn’t deny his lord’s words.

Their enemies weren’t beneath them.

He was keen enough to recognize that.

“Let’s go. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chat with my nephew.”

“…Will you not meet with the young lady?”

Blake froze for a moment.

“…That child doesn’t seem to want to see me.”

His face darkened.

“Hmm.”

“…Sigh.”

Duke Blake, who always exuded the dignity of a noble, let out a long sigh.

He thought of his unruly foster daughter, whose mood swung as unpredictably as the weather, and sighed again.

“Hmm, Rack, am I that unappealing? She always frowns when she sees me. I thought I looked good enough, but maybe I’m just getting old…”

“……”

Speechless, Rack could only remain silent.

There was much he wanted to say, but he chose not to, shifting his gaze to their surroundings instead.

Many maidens with blossoming beauty were stealing glances at his lord, their cheeks blushing.

‘My lord, saying that in front of others will get you stoned.’

Especially by the other men.

Rack, bound by reverence, dared not utter such insolence and simply bowed his head in silence.

An upset no one anticipated—a true underdog rebellion.

Rarely did the war game between mages and warriors end so swiftly, and even more rarely did the warriors dominate.

Yet, no one questioned their victory.

‘They’re completely spent.’

‘It’s hard to tell who’s the victor and who’s the vanquished.’

While the mages remained relatively unharmed, the warriors lay collapsed, exhausted and pale.

It was proof of how much they had poured into this battle, a testament to the desperate effort that had determined the outcome.

And so, the audience showered them with applause, honoring their tenacity.

Flash! Flash!

Some even took photos.

There was no doubt that tomorrow’s front-page news would be covered with these shots. It had been that kind of spectacular comeback.

“Was that an idea to unleash their strength explosively?”

“Hmm, more like concentrated force. It might even be a way to amplify potential.”

“A peculiar technique. Interesting. Did that knight teach it? Well, maybe it’s lacking in some areas…”

The more observant nobles noted that while fundamentally different from traditional Aura techniques, the explosive power was impressive.

However, they didn’t appear overly covetous, recognizing the technique’s shortcomings.

Besides the time restriction, it was physically taxing.

Such a method wasn’t exactly ‘noble.’

Intriguing as it was, it wasn’t seen as a replacement for Aura techniques, and above all, it lacked refinement.

Of course,

“—A lot of these guys only see what’s right in front of them. Isn’t that right, Rack?”

Those with an eye for true value, however, could appreciate its merits.

“They think what they have is the best. But they’re not entirely wrong. For those skilled in high-level techniques, this ‘skill’ won’t hold much allure. …Still.”

“Still?”

“Should someone master this skill, they’d be a formidable opponent. Not easily dismissed, even by other knights.”

“Oh? I expected you to have a narrow view, but you surprise me.”

“M-my lord…”

A knight from a duke’s household had quickly discerned the value of this new technique, and his lord teased him for it.

The Duke, Blake Vivian de Galahad, stroked his chin with interest.

“That young man is a delight to watch. Not only does he have skills, but he’s a talented teacher as well? Fascinating.”

“He’s not worth any serious regard.”

“He’s still sparking your competitive spirit, isn’t he? I thought he might even be in love with someone, given how worked up he gets.”

“!!?”

“Haha!”

Duke Blake laughed heartily.

He was one of the few his student might consider a rival.

Serious and composed to the point of boredom, this knight had started to show a hint of humanity since getting involved with that man.

It was as if the wooden puppet had finally begun to act like a person.

Of course, with his growing humanity, training time increased, and his sparring partners often wore grim expressions, but that was no concern of Duke Blake.

“I’d have claimed him as my own if he weren’t my nephew’s.”

“……”

“But maybe it’s better to keep him as an opponent for your growth. He’ll be a strong motivator.”

“It’s not like that. What’s that commoner even worth?”

“Tsk, tsk, not very honest, are we?”

“……”

Knights have always had their pride and competitive spirit—that’s often their problem.

“…Still, I suppose I prefer high-spirited knights to sly cats.”

But his moment of amusement quickly faded.

His gaze turned icy.

It was a constant irritant.

Perhaps it was the curse of the demon sword, but just being near those lions made his blood boil.

And even if it wasn’t due to the sword’s influence, Galahad and Lionel had already crossed an irreparable line.

They were, effectively, enemies!

Individuals he was determined to eliminate.

“Say the word, and we’ll mobilize the knights.”

“No. Losing you to the northern cats would be a greater loss.”

“My lord! We won’t lose!”

“No, you wouldn’t lose. But there would be sacrifices.”

“Ugh—!”

There was no guarantee they could decisively eliminate them, so they had to bide their time.

Rack de Durron, the Duke’s knight, couldn’t deny his lord’s words.

Their enemies weren’t beneath them.

He was keen enough to recognize that.

“Let’s go. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chat with my nephew.”

“…Will you not meet with the young lady?”

Blake froze for a moment.

“…That child doesn’t seem to want to see me.”

His face darkened.

“Hmm.”

“…Sigh.”

Duke Blake, who always exuded the dignity of a noble, let out a long sigh.

He thought of his unruly foster daughter, whose mood swung as unpredictably as the weather, and sighed again.

“Hmm, Rack, am I that unappealing? She always frowns when she sees me. I thought I looked good enough, but maybe I’m just getting old…”

“……”

Speechless, Rack could only remain silent.

There was much he wanted to say, but he chose not to, shifting his gaze to their surroundings instead.

Many maidens with blossoming beauty were stealing glances at his lord, their cheeks blushing.

‘My lord, saying that in front of others will get you stoned.’

Especially by the other men.

Rack, bound by reverence, dared not utter such insolence and simply bowed his head in silence.

The cadets, or rather, the warriors who had fought splendidly, were showered with unending applause and congratulations.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

“Well done.”

“You were impressive, Lady Folt.”

This was not the Swordsmanship Department’s victory.

It was an achievement borne of their own efforts.

The glory was theirs alone, and the audience withheld nothing in their praise.

In this moment, there was a rare sense of camaraderie, transcending status, as noble maidens presented them with bouquets.

Receiving bouquets from beautiful noblewomen.

They accepted them with gratitude.

“T-this is too much…”

“Take it. You’ve earned it.”

“Haha…”

“…You were amazing.”

“!!”

It takes just 0.3 seconds for a man to fall in love.

Sprout #5 had already envisioned their child’s name.

And it wasn’t just him; all of them felt a similar fluttering in their hearts.

Even if they weren’t from the Swordsmanship Department, noble ladies were still handing out flowers.

How often would they experience such a luxury?

It was an experience like no other.

But, unfortunately, the attention they received was fleeting.

The one who received the most flowers and attention from the noble maidens was a certain girl.

“L-Lady Folt, I’ll keep supporting you.”

“C-could you accept my handkerchief?”

“…You were so cool at the end.”

“Th-thank you.”

A fearless female warrior.

The heroine of the reversal.

Today’s best player.

All these titles were pointed at Levi Folt.

‘I… I didn’t really do much.’

She had simply worked hard like everyone else, and it was only by luck that she delivered the final blow.

But the audience didn’t care about such details.

‘She was amazing, truly.’

‘It was inspiring.’

Her courage in such a small body, the charisma with which she commanded like a maestro, and the determination she showed as she swung her rapier to the end.

Levi Folt had become an icon, the ideal many women aspired to be.

In any era, strong and forward-thinking women were admired.

And most importantly, she was a noble.

This mattered greatly.

A noble lady who wielded a sword rather than a needle.

‘She might even become a knight someday.’

The position of a female knight.

A path more difficult to enter than the eye of a needle, reserved only for noble ladies who could prove they could stand shoulder to shoulder with male knights.

And today, Levi Folt had shown the potential to become a knight.

Considering that the last appointment of a female knight was 40 years ago, her worth had skyrocketed.

Not everyone’s intentions were purely benevolent.

For now,

“Thank you…”

It was best to savor this joy.

…Though not everyone was congratulating her.

“This is impossible! Th-they needed to capture the flag! Since when did breaking it count as a win?”

“Pitiful, slave.”

“I’m telling you, we didn’t lose…!”

Someone refused to accept defeat—or rather, reality.

Odwal Bernard.

The man who had insisted on holding this war game, only to lose and earn the title of “loser.”

He was about to call for a lawyer, determined to fight against his loss—

“—The warriors are the rightful winners. Those who fail to protect the king and allow his life to be taken cannot be considered anything but losers.”

“!!”

Odwal froze as if his breath had been stolen.

Before him stood the highest predator, someone he couldn’t dare oppose.

The princess,

The kingdom’s heir apparent, glared at him with a frosty gaze.

“If you truly believe you have grounds to contest my judgment, then speak now. I’ll listen.”

“……”

“Well?”

“…N-no. I accept our defeat.”

Who would dare oppose her?

Before the princess’s intimidating presence, Odwal trembled and reluctantly conceded.

“Hmph.”

She sent a scornful glance his way before addressing the cadets.

“You performed admirably.”

-Thump, thump!

Everyone fell to their knees.

Before Isis’s arrival, they instinctively lowered their heads.

She surveyed them with a satisfied smile.

“The kingdom has much talent, and I am impressed.”

…It was as if even the sound of breathing had paused.

“I have seen countless roses. Beautiful and splendid. But a rose blooming in the fields stirs another kind of awe—beautiful and radiant. And you were just that.”

The sweetness of her voice was intoxicating, as if their brains were melting.

Even hearing the finest soprano would not compare to this.

Some of the audience began to weep, transcending all ranks.

“It is an honor for my house.”

“Sniff….”

“Princess, I revere you.”

It wasn’t sorcery or mind control, but rather her innate charisma and charm.

And that might be more frightening than mind control.

The sheer influence wielded by her natural charm and charisma.

“I am in a good mood today. Thus, I shall host a banquet. You all shall be the guests of honor. Attend without fail.”

-Thump, thump, thump!!

Who would dare to refuse?

Though the banquet was sudden, attendance was mandatory.

They couldn’t risk any offense…!!

“—Count me out. I have other things to do.”

“…You insolent brat.”

Smack!

The princess’s fan flared.

Even her powerful allure was easily deflected by the ‘(unintentional) ascetic’ master.