Chapter 129

After barely fending off a sudden attack, I prepared myself for the follow-up assault. However, the Ghostly Black Knight, who had revealed himself after his initial ambush, showed no interest in further attacks and only observed me.

The black iron helmet that obscured even his gaze didn’t reveal any hint of the emotions he was feeling. Since my opponent wasn’t showing any signs of hostility, I couldn’t predict what he might do. So, rather than making a hasty counterattack, I decided to take a moment to catch my breath and observe him.

I maintained an appropriate distance. It felt somewhat pointless to set this gap when he could suddenly dive into my space and swing his sword at me.

“Indeed…”

The Ghostly Black Knight, observing me with the flat of his blade lightly tapping against his shoulder, had lost all trace of the initial aggression. It seemed his first move was merely a formality, a greeting to see how I would react.

His movements were well-executed, and I could feel the effort he put into practicing. Even though his voice was distorted through the helmet, there was a hint of something akin to familiarity in his tone.

The black iron armor he wore, designed to conceal every inch of his appearance, left me unable to discern any distinctive features. From what I could tell, despite wearing heavy armor, he didn’t seem overly bulky.

Unable to determine who he was, I found myself involuntarily sighing. “There’s nothing more arrogant than trying to identify someone just by observation.”

The armored figure, who had previously shown a strange warmth in his voice, now took on a more composed demeanor. He said, “When two knights face each other, the best way to know your opponent is by clashing swords.”

With a short command, he gestured with his finger. The Ghostly Black Knight aimed his sword at me, taking a stance that was familiar from the Sword Mansion. This was a stance often adopted during the rigorous training that had been passed down through generations, a stance imbued with a deep meaning.

It was a stance that signified a life-and-death duel, one where, even if you lost your life to the opponent’s blade, you wouldn’t harbor any resentment.

“Hmm…”

Even though I was wary of his perfectly executed stance, there was still a faint sense of admiration from Carthas Duke. As the head of the Sword Guild and a long-time rival of the Sword Mansion, he knew these stances inside out.

To anyone watching, including myself who had trained under threat from Dominus, this stance was unmistakable.

Despite his audacity in ambushing me, he was showing the confidence and composure expected of a knight, even in such a tense situation.

“Even a lackey of Dominus shouldn’t be playing at being a knight; it’s quite displeasing.”

Feeling no obligation to respect entities influenced by Dominus, I naturally felt this disdain. It was a challenge and a rejection, implying that someone who abandoned their family and lived like trash shouldn’t pretend to be a knight.

Though I knew this provocation could incite the opponent to charge recklessly, it didn’t work.

“Ha, I can’t deny that.”

He accepted my provocation calmly, which made me realize how thick-skinned he was.

As I pondered how to upset his composure and turn the situation to my advantage, the Ghostly Black Knight continued in his solemn tone, “No matter how much of a bastard you are, you can’t ignore the connection that binds us.”

This connection… Could it mean that he, too, had received some meager kindness from Dominus?

“…Well, if it’s kindness, then it is. Even helping me avoid threats when I couldn’t even secure meals.”

It occurred to me that he might have gone through a similar process to end up under Dominus’ control. Realizing this, I understood that my clumsy provocation wouldn’t work on him.

In a situation where cunning wouldn’t suffice, the only thing left was to rely on strength or willpower, proving superiority in both areas through combat.

“Then I’ll knock you down and sever your connection with him.”

I responded with the same stance, embodying a resolve not to blame the opponent even if death came from this duel.

“This is a noble duel I never expected to witness here…”

Carthas Duke, putting away his sword, stepped back to a suitable position and declared his intention to watch our duel.

“…”

The Weaponless, who had a distinctly uneasy expression, also stood by the Duke, signaling his intention not to join the fray. Although she seemed to have a vague idea who the Ghostly Black Knight was, she didn’t bother asking unnecessary questions.

With actors ready and spectators in place, I let out a sigh before the decisive moment arrived.

“Ta-ta-ta!”

I launched into the duel, diving into his space with a swift movement.

Until then, I hadn’t realized how much I had suffered at the hands of this seemingly foolish knight.

—

At the start of the duel, my mind was solely focused on overpowering the opponent, subduing them, and quickly rescuing Asulin.

After closing the gap, I narrowly dodged the opponent’s careless strike and retaliated. We exchanged blows until our swords became intertwined.

“Clang!”

Our metal clashed fiercely, producing a sound as loud as countless songs, but neither of us managed to inflict serious damage on each other’s armor or body.

While the surface appeared balanced, it was clear that I was at a disadvantage, given the roles we played in the duel.

Even though I had initiated the ambush, the thought of Dominus hastening the ritual if he discovered my intrusion made me anxious.

Yet, dwelling on this anxiety would only dull my sword and give the opponent an opening.

“Sticking to the basics. Your sword, built on such little guidance in harsh conditions, is truly beautiful.”

Despite my anxiety, the Ghostly Black Knight praised my swordplay with genuine sincerity.

The praise came from an opponent who could take my life at any moment, and yet, showed no hesitation in doing so.

This confirmed that he was someone who made no distinction between personal and professional matters.

Each time he complimented me, I had to suppress my growing anxiety while continuously attacking.

With no time to waste, I unleashed the perfect killing technique I had practiced with Pailord.

Even though I hadn’t used it in a while, the sword, crafted based on Asulin’s observations of my movements, felt natural in my hand and aimed directly at the opponent.

The optimal path of my sword aimed to strike the opponent’s neck.

Of the few who had ever blocked this technique, Asulin, Dominus, and my deceased brother came to mind.

Since I had vowed never to let this technique fail again after mastering it for Asulin, I hadn’t expected it to succeed.

“Quick and precise, but!”

Just as my sword was about to graze the opponent’s neck, they astonishingly halted, evading my strike.

“Too familiar!”

They coldly assessed my swordplay.

What? Familiar? My unique killing technique was familiar to him?!

Anger flared up like a fire as I looked at the opponent who dared to say such a thing, but—

“Your emotions are too intense! Taaat!”

Before my rage could manifest in my sword, the opponent seized the opportunity, shouting a powerful battle cry as he swung his sword downward.

Though the strike was crude, the immense power behind it was surprising given his slender build.

Rather than blocking, I narrowly avoided it and prepared to counterattack.

“You’ve always been predictable.”

The familiar voice, even through the helmet, carried a warmth that made the opponent’s next move clear. His powerful strike, intended to pierce my heart, was thwarted by a new path drawn just before impact.

Like a snake coiling before striking, the familiar trajectory of his sword approached menacingly.

“Watch out!!”

Even Carthas Duke, startled by the threat, called out. Yet, I remained calm, raising my sword to block the incoming attack.

This was reminiscent of situations I often faced during practice sessions with my mentor, who had taught me everything about swords and combat.

“Clang! Clang!”

My sword successfully absorbed the opponent’s fierce strikes.

“Whew…”

Hearing the rare sigh of relief from Carthas Duke, I felt a sense of accomplishment, despite the dangerous sequence of moves.

But instead of satisfaction, I felt a growing sense of déjà vu.

Though he didn’t seem particularly skilled, his elegant parries and deflections, exploiting my weaknesses, felt incredibly familiar.

Memories of someone who had instilled this feeling naturally surfaced in my mind.

“No, that can’t be.”

I quickly dismissed the thought and resumed my attacks.

No matter how hard I tried, it couldn’t be true.

He was a kind-hearted teacher who had taught his only brother, despite his poor health, the art of swordplay.

But my brother was no longer of this world.

As these thoughts crossed my mind, a strange anger surged like a flame.

If Dominus, who knew how to manipulate emotions, had instructed his hound to use such techniques, it made sense.

If he could treat even strangers as tools, why not teach his dogs such tactics?

This realization briefly stirred a strange sympathy for the opponent, but ultimately, I had to overcome him to reach Dominus.

“Stop pretending to be friendly!”

After shouting this at the opponent, who had shown strange familiarity throughout the duel, I raised my sword above my head, ready to finish things here and now.

“…Yes, we can’t pretend to be friends.”

Responding to my posture, the opponent pointed his sword towards the opposite direction, preparing to meet my attack.

Though he was merely adopting a basic defensive stance, it somehow intensified my déjà vu, making me even more uncomfortable.

“Show me what you’ve achieved.”

His familiar tone added insult to injury.

Determined not to let his words affect me, I charged forward with renewed vigor.

“Haah!”

Drawing on the last reserves of energy I had saved for Dominus, I attacked with a forceful strike.

And as I swung, the Ghostly Black Knight’s sword rose to meet mine.

The clash of forces—strength, speed, and will—was intense.

Unlike the previous near-equal match, this time, my sword was slightly faster.

“Swish!”

The sound of metal splitting proved it.

Though the strike was shallow, a full-power blow like this would surely bring a painless death.

“…There’s nothing more to teach.”

Victory’s satisfaction was marred by the unaltered voice that emerged from the cracked helmet.

A voice so familiar, almost too familiar, echoed in my ears.

Trying to deny it, I thought it must be a mistake.

“Good job… little brother…”

The face revealed by the cracked helmet completely shattered my denial.

“…Brother?”