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Chapter 27
After submitting his report to the protocol aide and about to leave, Raymond couldn’t hold back his temper at the provocation of his former colleague, Marcel, and followed him to the training ground.
Marcel Carr — a squire who had always been at odds with Raymond.
Despite being of commoner origin, Marcel despised Raymond, who consistently received higher evaluations.
All he could do was pick fights, form cliques, and try to suppress Raymond outside of swordsmanship.
It was due to Marcel’s constant provocations that Raymond lost his temper and ended up getting demoted to Decaine after being flagged by higher-ups.
Though it had been entirely Marcel’s fault, Raymond, having no influential backing, had to bear the blame.
Now, Raymond had no regrets about being sent to Decaine.
In fact, he even felt grateful to Marcel, believing it to be a stroke of luck, so he wasn’t particularly upset when he ran into Marcel at the royal capital.
That is, if Marcel hadn’t insulted Decaine and his mentor.
"Decaine? That graveyard the kingdom abandoned? Hah, just a bunch of corpses pretending to be knights."
"What? You’re telling me not to insult it? Don’t tell me you’re actually attached to that place. Your mentor is Ren Arzen, right? What trash — carrying the Arzen bloodline but can't even swing a sword properly."
"Getting mad over your little mentor? Then come at me! How about we take it to the training grounds?"
Raymond, chewing over Marcel's earlier words, was filled with rage.
Since it’s come to this, I’ll smash his face in, he thought.
Just then—
"STOP RIGHT THERE!!"
A voice rang out.
"Ma-Master?"
Raymond turned in surprise to see Ren standing among the gathered knights.
Only then did the others realize Ren was among them and turned their gazes toward him.
"Mentor?"
"That's Ren Arzen?"
"The Gravekeeper of Decaine?"
At Ren’s single comment, the heated atmosphere in the training ground immediately cooled, and all eyes focused on him.
"Looks like everyone's all worked up. How about calming down for a bit?"
Ren walked up between Raymond and Marcel, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Seems like there’s a lot of bad blood between you two. Instead of brawling like street rats, why not settle it like knights — with swords?"
"And who the hell are you to butt in?"
Marcel snapped, brushing Ren’s hand off.
"Me? I’m his mentor. From the looks of it, you must have a serious inferiority complex from losing to my protégé."
"Bullshit! Inferiority complex? Me? Against this guy?"
"Oh, not at all? Then prove it. I heard you used to cry your way home after losing to Raymond in every evaluation?"
"You crazy bastard! What nonsense are you spouting!"
Fuming at Ren’s false accusations, Marcel drew his sword.
"Both of you are out of your minds! Fine, bring it on! I'll show you who's superior. Hell, you two can come at me together if you want!"
Marcel’s twitching cheeks betrayed his barely contained fury.
In contrast, Ren wore a serene smile, while Raymond stood nervously in front of him.
'Master is hiding his real strength. I can’t drag him into a fight with these clowns.'
Raymond, face hardened with resolve, unsheathed his sword.
"Why would Master waste his time on the likes of you? You can’t even beat me."
"You think two months rotting in some graveyard makes you stronger?"
"Alright, everyone step back!"
Ren shouted, loud enough to make sure even those outside the training ground could hear.
"Squire Marcel Carr has challenged Squire Raymond to a duel to defend his honor!"
Surely, by now the whole royal capital would know.
"The loser has to crawl between the winner's legs—"
"YOU MANIAC!"
Marcel’s face contorted in rage.
He had only meant to quietly humiliate Raymond — but this damn Gravekeeper was blowing everything out of proportion.
If word of this reached his second brother’s ears... he didn’t even want to imagine it.
"SHUT UP!"
In a moment of panic, Marcel thrust his sword toward Ren.
He intended only to intimidate, but Raymond interpreted it differently.
Clang!
Raymond smoothly deflected the blade upward and kicked Marcel hard in the solar plexus.
"Kaahk!"
With a heavy grunt, Marcel rolled on the ground, unable to breathe.
"You dare raise your sword against Master?!"
Blinded by rage, Raymond mounted Marcel and unleashed a flurry of punches.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
The brutal sounds of impact shocked the surrounding knights into action.
They rushed to pull Raymond off and retaliate against him.
Just then—
"Interrupting a knight's honorable duel, are we?"
Ren muttered quietly.
The words struck the squires like a thunderbolt.
Even though the concept of an "honorable knight’s duel" typically applied only to true knights — not squires — if they dreamt of knighthood, they couldn’t afford to violate that principle.
Ren had fabricated the context entirely, but still, the squires hesitated.
While they struggled with indecision, one man stepped forward, spat on the ground, and grabbed Ren by the collar.
"Who the hell do you think you are, interfering like this?"
"I told you — I’m his mentor."
"So what if you are?!"
Frustrated by Ren’s audacity, the man raised a fist.
At that moment, Ren’s lips curled into a faint smile.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"
A loud voice roared from the entrance of the training ground.
The squire grabbing Ren flinched violently.
"C-Captain Khalid?!"
The man who entered was Khalid, who had returned early from the southern expedition to report to the royal capital.
Suppressing his exhaustion, Khalid stepped into the commotion, his irritation doubling.
Scanning the scene quickly, Khalid’s face hardened.
'Ren? These crazy bastards!'
Khalid’s mind snapped to full alert.
Raymond lay on the ground surrounded by squires, and Ren was being grabbed by the collar.
There was no way Ren would have started this.
It was obviously the fault of the squires.
'Good God...'
If Ren decided to take things seriously, he could wipe out the dozen or so men here in less than a minute.
On top of that, Ren was someone treasured by the Third Prince and the First Princess.
If the Third Prince found out about this incident, his fury would be unimaginable.
Even Khalid himself was infuriated that these lowly squires dared to lay a hand on Ren.
"C-Captain Khalid!"
Marcel, his face now swollen to twice its normal size from Raymond’s beating, quickly stood up, saluted with his right hand to his forehead while still clutching his sword with his left.
The other squires also hastily saluted.
Normally Khalid would have acknowledged them, but instead he walked up and smacked the squire who had grabbed Ren by the collar.
Thud!
"Ugh!"
"You brainless idiots!"
The unexpected outburst from Khalid left the squires staring in stunned silence before bowing their heads.
"Form ranks!"
"Yes, sir!"
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"About face!"
"Yes, sir!"
While the squires stood in a single line facing backward, Khalid checked on Ren and Raymond’s condition.
"Ren, are you alright?"
"Yes. I'm fine."
"And you, Raymond?"
"M-me too, I’m fine, sir."
Raymond was still dazed by the situation.
Khalid, who usually acted so strictly, was now behaving completely differently.
"Damn it, I'm sorry. You just got back from the expedition, and now you have to deal with these fools."
"No, it's fine."
"Me too! I’m really fine!"
Marcel also couldn’t understand what was happening.
'Damn it! What the hell is going on?'
Khalid, who ranked among the top knights of the royal family, was acting so deferentially toward a mere gravekeeper.
And even showing concern for Raymond’s well-being.
It seemed Raymond was being treated with more respect because of the gravekeeper, but Marcel couldn’t figure out why.
'What happened down south?'
Marcel wanted to know the relationship between them, but since he couldn't figure it out, he forcefully pushed down his curiosity.
"Would you two wait outside for a bit? I’ll be right there."
"Yes."
After sending Ren and Raymond out of the training grounds, Khalid turned around with a chillingly cold expression.
"Ren Arzen is the benefactor who saved the Third Prince’s life during the expedition, even at the risk of his own. And yet you dared to threaten such a man?"
'Dammit... of all people.'
At Khalid’s words, Marcel and the other squires turned pale.
"We're sorry!"
"You think just saying sorry is enough?"
"We sincerely apologize!"
Their desperate voices echoed throughout the training grounds—shouted purely in a bid to survive.
"You must have too much energy if you're acting out like this. It’s also the fault of your seniors for not managing you properly, so I won’t escalate this matter."
The squires inwardly sighed in relief at Khalid’s words.
"However, your mindset needs to be corrected. I’ll make sure you’re too exhausted to think of anything stupid again."
Khalid wasn’t their training officer, but he intended to meet with the responsible trainer and make sure they were properly punished.
"Today, you’re going to duck-walk around the training ground a hundred laps. If you can't do it, forget about going home."
"A h-hundred laps...?"
One of the squires murmured in disbelief at the staggering number.
"Or I can report this incident to the Third Prince right now."
"We'll do it!"
"Good. Now that you've all agreed, get started."
"Yes, sir!"
Their enthusiastic answers rang out.
How long that enthusiasm would last was another question.
Khalid chuckled inwardly.
"Oh, Marcel Carr."
"Yes, sir!"
Marcel answered while duck-walking at full speed.
"You’re in charge of checking if they complete all their laps. I’m leaving now, so make sure every last one of them finishes. You don’t go home until the last one’s done."
"M-me, sir?"
"What, you have a problem with that? Should I go have a word with your family instead?"
"No, sir! I’ll do it!"
"Good. I’ll check tomorrow. If you try to cheat, you’ll be doing twice as many laps."
"Understood!"
With that, Khalid left the training grounds.
Marcel, whose face was swelling from exhaustion, grit his teeth and kept duck-walking.
"Anyone who falls behind is dead meat!"
Marcel, falling to the back of the group, shouted out.
If they wanted to go home early, everyone had to move as one.
For a while after, Marcel and the others had to endure daily duck-walk training.
* * *
"I'm sorry, sir... because of me..."
"It's fine. But seriously, you're pretty skilled—why do you let punks like that mess with you?"
I now understood that Raymond had been demoted to Decaine not because of incompetence, but because of a scumbag from the Carr family.
When I saw Raymond’s swordsmanship earlier, it was clear he hadn’t been idle during my time in the south.
Raymond easily parried Marcel’s strikes, and the skill gap between them was obvious.
"I didn’t exactly let them mess with me, sir."
"Yeah... I guess you’ve always had a temper."
Looking at him now, I was surprised at how differently Raymond treated me compared to others.
The same Raymond who used to act prickly and arrogant around everyone—me included.
"Sorry about earlier. Had to hand out some punishment."
Khalid returned.
"It’s really fine. But isn’t the Third Prince coming here?"
"I came ahead of him. Someone had to come first to write the report."
"I see."
"Anyway, I’ll explain everything to His Highness myself."
"There's really no need."
"Come on, at least think about our position too."
"...Understood."
It would be rude to keep refusing when Khalid insisted that much.
"So Ren, why are you here?"
"I’m here to meet the administrator of Cormir."
"Oh, you’re meeting Cohen Trevis?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wow... You even know the administrator?"
"I wouldn't say we’re acquaintances."
"Well, go ahead. He should be inside."
"Thank you."
After the brief conversation, Khalid left first.
"You should head back too. You’ve worked hard. Take a few days off."
"No way, sir! I can’t shamelessly take a break."
"You’re not being shameless. Just take today off. We’ll talk tomorrow."
"Yessir!"
After sending Raymond off, I headed into the royal castle.
The administrator of Cormir, Cohen Trevis.
He was notorious in the royal court for being extremely strict and picky.
He was also a man with significant influence within the Trevis family.
'Seriously, couldn’t they just have someone else deliver the message?'
Why did I have to personally come to the castle and meet Cohen Trevis?
Just thinking about meeting that grumpy old man already made me feel exhausted.
Knock, knock, knock.
"This is Ren Arzen. May I enter?"
"Come in."
A hoarse voice came from beyond the door.
Creak.
As I opened the door, a chilling air greeted me.
There he was—an old man sitting at a desk, buried in paperwork.
A lean frame, faint wrinkles across his face, and black hair streaked with gray.
No matter how you looked at him, he didn’t seem particularly strong.
'Still... this old man is said to be powerful enough that even Layton Trevis shows him respect?'
Cohen Trevis, a former master so skilled that even the current head of the Trevis family bowed to him.
I swallowed nervously and glanced at his status window.
'Holy...'
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