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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 75
Those gathered in the Grand Martial Arena shot up from their seats.
And then—
From the distance, a hunched old man appeared.
His body was gaunt and frail, yet he alone possessed the power to overwhelm everyone present.
It was the House Lord, Nordian.
* * *
Silence fell over the arena.
Though the House Lord did not release any visible aura, the crushing pressure that swirled like a vortex weighed down the entire training ground.
Not a single demon dared to make even a gulping sound.
Tap. Tap.
Only the tapping of the House Lord’s cane echoed through the arena.
“Heh heh, why are you all so tense? This old man simply came to see how well his grandchildren have grown.”
Even so, not a single person sat back down.
“House Lord.”
Marquis Langham hurried down from the podium and knelt before the House Lord.
Nordian looked down at his kneeling son with unreadable eyes for a moment before speaking.
“Rise, Marquis. This old man has already entrusted you with full authority. There’s no need to treat me with such reverence. At this rate, how could you properly lead the Dark Demonic House in my stead?”
Chris’s eyes widened sharply.
Those words were laced with meaning.
‘The House Lord dislikes Marquis Langham.’
The reason Marquis Langham never rose to the position of House Lord was because of Nordian’s will.
The reason behind Nordian’s decision was simple.
Marquis Langham had not reached 8-star strength.
His level was 7-star High Rank.
And for ten years, he had failed to break through the wall.
He had, in truth, reached his limit.
That was why Nordian declared that he would skip a generation in the succession.
‘It’s not an unreasonable decision. Among the twelve heads of the Magus Empire’s demonic houses, none have failed to reach 8-star.’
Perhaps because of that, the way they looked at each other was ice-cold.
From Nordian’s perspective, Langham was the son who had betrayed his expectations.
And from Langham’s perspective, Nordian was the one who crushed his long-cherished dream.
“Stand now, Marquis.”
“…Yes, understood.”
“Order the children to sit as well.”
“…Yes. Everyone, be seated!”
The commotion settled, and Nordian took a seat—not at the House Lord’s throne, but among the elders.
It was a clear statement that he would only observe.
The Marchioness, Presia, secretly let out a sigh of relief.
‘It would’ve been troublesome if that old monster had interfered. Thank goodness.’
The content of the tournament varied each time, and her influence—being in charge of the Dark Demonic House’s internal affairs—was strong.
She had chosen a field most favorable to Mysak for the competition’s theme.
Destruction Black Magic.
It was Mysak’s strongest specialty.
‘Especially since that brat Christian hasn’t made any progress in Destruction Black Magic over the past three months.’
The instructor who taught Christian Destruction Black Magic was one of her loyal subordinates from the Destruction Demonic House, so he gave no real instruction at all.
‘And it’s not just Destruction Black Magic. The other subtopics were also chosen based on areas where that brat Christian has shown no real progress. He’s going to be completely humiliated in front of the House Lord.’
Just as Presia curled the corners of her lips upward—
Something unexpected happened.
“Marquis, what is the format of this competition?”
The House Lord asked.
“It will be a demonstration format, with the young lords showcasing various topics, including Destruction Black Magic.”
“Hmmm.”
The House Lord made an unreadable expression and then said,
“Sounds like the kind of method the Alliance scum would use. How is anyone supposed to prove their skill through that clown show of a format?”
“!!”
“Ah, I’m not criticizing. I’ve only come to watch, nothing more. You must have your own reasoning for choosing such a method, Marquis. Don’t mind this old man and proceed as you wish.”
The arena fell silent.
How could anyone proceed as planned after hearing something like that?
Presia’s complexion turned pale.
Her tightly clenched fist trembled.
‘That damned old man. Why stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong?’
Meanwhile, Chris had a surprised look in his eyes.
‘Did he step in for my sake? No way.’
If the competition went ahead in the format Presia had set, Chris would naturally be at a disadvantage.
No matter how much of a genius he was, he couldn’t be more proficient than Mysak, who had been studying Destruction Black Magic for over ten years.
“……”
After a moment of silence, Marquis Langham opened his mouth.
“We’ll change the format of the competition.”
“Hm?”
“I was mistaken. Rather than a demonstration, we will proceed with duels between the young lords. After all, there’s no better way to verify their actual progress.”
The House Lord gave a disinterested nod.
A clear sign that he found Marquis Langham disagreeable in every way.
With a hardened expression, Marquis Langham addressed the assembled sons and daughters waiting in place.
“For the matchups: First Daughter Yulian versus Third Son Mysak. And Second Daughter Jupien versus Fourth Son Christian. This is a match in front of the entire family—regardless of the outcome, give it your all.”
The pairings were based on comparable levels of ability.
Yulian and Mysak, who weren’t far apart in age, were matched.
And Jupien and Christian were of similar caliber, making that a fair duel.
But Presia and Mysak’s faces turned pale.
‘No!’
The skill gap between First Daughter Yulian and Third Son Mysak was obvious. There was no way Mysak could win.
It would only end in humiliation.
This wasn’t the result they had hoped for.
But she couldn’t argue back.
The House Lord was watching in person.
‘Damn it, what is that old man even thinking?’
Presia ground her teeth.
Then, an unexpected shout echoed through the training grounds.
“I object!”
“!!”
It was Christian!
“…Object? What do you mean by that?”
Marquis Langham asked coldly.
Christian grinned and glanced over at the House Lord.
At that moment, Nordion was also looking at Christian.
Despite the distance between them, their eyes met.
Seeing the interest in the House Lord’s gaze, Christian could tell what he was expecting from him.
“I’d like to change my duel opponent.”
“What?”
“Please let me duel Young Lord Mysak.”
“!!”
The arena stirred.
There was a clear difference in skill between Mysak and Christian.
A gap between four stars and three stars.
But Christian spoke boldly.
“Of course, I know I’m lacking. Still, shouldn’t a true magus have the courage to challenge someone stronger?”
‘This is a test the House Lord has given me,’ Chris thought to himself.
The House Lord hadn’t interfered out of consideration for Chris.
It was quite the opposite.
He had given Chris an even more difficult task.
To defeat Mysak in a duel.
Far harder than simply outperforming him in a demonstration.
But Chris accepted the House Lord’s intent.
Because it was what he wanted as well.
In this competition, he would make Mysak kneel before him in utter defeat.
“You…”
Just as Marquis Langham scowled—
“Let it be done as the boy says.”
“!!”
It was the House Lord’s voice.
Was it just his imagination?
There was a trace of satisfaction in his tone.
“What the boy said isn’t wrong, is it? A magus must have the spirit to challenge someone stronger than themselves.”
“!!”
Everyone in the arena widened their eyes at those words.
It was rare for the House Lord to speak positively about anyone in that way.
But—
The House Lord's expression changed.
“However, you must take responsibility for your presumptuous challenge. Christian, are you prepared to bear the consequences of this reckless duel?”
A stern question.
Duels between magi were different from those of the Alliance.
Severe injuries or even death were common.
“Of course, Lord. More than anything—”
Chris raised the corners of his mouth.
“We’ll have to wait and see who ends up on their knees.”
“!!”
Mysak’s face turned bright red.
Unable to say anything before the House Lord, he only clenched his teeth.
Nordion let out a low chuckle and spoke.
“Still all talk, I see. Well then, let’s see if it’s just your lips that are full of fire. Marquis, proceed with the duel.”
“…Understood. Lady Yulian, Lady Jupien. Step forward.”
The first duel was between the two noble ladies.
Unexpectedly, Yulian’s main weapon was a bow.
And she had the skill of a master archer with unerring precision.
‘She really does seem like an elf.’
Chris crossed his arms and observed their duel.
It wasn’t just that she was good with a bow that made her seem similar.
Elves had certain distinctive habits when they shot arrows.
Though Yulian’s form wasn’t identical to theirs, there were subtle overlaps.
Because of that, her archery reminded him more and more of elves. The aura she gave off as well.
‘Did she learn archery from the Dark Elves—those of the Black Enchantment?’
Perhaps due to the overwhelming difference in skill, the duel was completely one-sided.
Yulian suppressed Jupien with various dark spells while gaining the advantage with her bow.
But to everyone’s surprise, the one who caught all eyes wasn’t Yulian—it was Jupien.
“…I won’t lose.”
As she deflected arrows with her sword, Jupien suddenly stopped swinging.
She instinctively realized that if things continued like this, she would be toyed with and defeated.
Jupien abandoned defense and charged straight toward Yulian.
“It’s useless.”
Thwack!
An arrow fired by Yulian pierced Jupien’s shoulder.
Her small body trembled as if struck by lightning.
Even so, Jupien gritted her teeth and didn’t stop.
Yulian showed a pained expression.
“Just give up, sister. You don’t stand a chance.”
Thwack! Thwack!
Arrows continued to strike her small body.
Despite her gentle appearance, Yulian was still a magus—she didn’t hold back.
Arrows flew relentlessly toward vital points: the heart, throat, philtrum.
Jupien dodged only those that would be fatal, inching closer to Yulian.
Her body, soaked in blood, trembled violently.
Breathing heavily.
But her eyes still gleamed vividly with life.
Eventually, the distance between them closed.
Bleeding, Jupien muttered:
“I… won’t lose. For the honor of my father.”
Her father was an honorable magus who died in battle against the Alliance.
Jupien carried the goal of upholding her father's name.
Swoosh!
Jupien's secret technique—the Splitting Blade—unleashed.
The same sixteen blades as before.
But something was different.
Each sword moved as if it had a will of its own.
—Separate illusion from self.
For the past three months, Jupien had clung to the clue Chris gave her, reaching a new realm.
She had nearly reached the 4-star level of illusion arts.
At 4-star illusion, illusions move vividly as though they possess their own will.
The sixteen Splitting Blades flew in, each like a real strike from a different swordsman.
“When did Lady Jupien’s level become like that?”
“That’s not the level of an ordinary 3-star, is it?”
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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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