Count Hermann Starvanger, Vice-Captain Curtis, and Captain Ashley arrived at the clearing one after another.

The sky above the open ground was already swallowed by black storm clouds.

Jagged flashes of lightning were chilling; the thunder crashed loud enough to rattle bones.

“What’s going on?”

Before a knight could answer, the Black Crown Prince shouted, “Count! Fall back!”

With the heavens blotted out, it was too dim to make out who was who.

Recognizing the prince’s voice, the Count called back, “What happened?”

“Wolfgang took up the Demon Blade but couldn’t withstand it—he’s gone berserk! The Devil is trying to stop him!”

“Good heavens…!”

Curtis spoke quickly. “Then shouldn’t we hurry to aid the Devil? Why are we just standing here?”

“The Devil’s orders! No one is to approach!”

KWA-ROOM!

Each time crimson lightning flared, the two fiends crossing blades at the center of the clearing flashed into view.

Wolfgang had become a beast, hacking wildly, while Ashuban matched him, his own sword slashing just as fiercely—

No. Looking closer, he was diverting each seemingly random strike one by one.

ZAP!

Every time their blades crossed, red lightning burst.

“What is… this…?”

All three knights wore the same look of shock.

To most people, it would have looked like reckless flailing. But to those who had reached a certain realm, one truth was clear.

Ashuban was parrying those monstrous blows along a purely defensive line—diverting each one, precisely.

It was skill bordering on the uncanny.

“Deflecting” a sword is, in itself, a technique of the highest difficulty. It’s far easier to block or dodge.

With the slightest misread or a hair’s breadth too much force, you’d be cut down where you stood.

Yet he was catching those unpatterned, ever-shifting strikes at the one perfect instant and letting them flow past.

This wasn’t the same as a seasoned knight reading a formal style and slipping past a blow or two. It was on another level entirely.

It was like tightrope-walking along a sheer cliff—no, like hopping on a thread of rope stretched over the abyss.

“Ridiculous…”

This wasn’t something you could attempt with mere nerves of steel.

One mistake, and it meant instant death.

Was he mad? What sane man would even think to try this? His will was anything but ordinary.

Was this… the realm of effort? Of talent? Or something else entirely?

Perhaps this is what it looked like when a heaven-sent genius, after relentless toil, broke through to a higher state.

Like a steadfast rock beneath a pounding waterfall, shedding the roaring torrent without yielding an inch.

KWA-ROOM!

“Kihahahaha!”

A chilling, skin-crawling laugh skittered between peals of thunder.

Whose laugh was it?

When the next flash lit the field, they saw both faces—both men were smiling.

Like devils.

“…!”

A shiver.

Count Starvanger rubbed his forearm before he knew it.

He had goosebumps.

This was a different kind of dread than when they’d faced the Frost Knight.

“Ah…”

Ashley stared, spellbound by the duel of the two demons.

She prided herself on having crossed the line between life and death more than once to reach this place, but she had never seen anything like this.

Her heart pounded.

Was it fear? Or elation?

Part of her wanted to rush in and join the fray; another part wanted to turn and run.

Then she heard a soft chuckle.

“Heh.”

Startled, she glanced sideways. Curtis was smiling.

He gripped his hilt as if he might sprint onto the field at any moment, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

“…!”

Ashley was more shocked by that than by the duel itself.

She had never seen her former captain like this.

He had always been strict and sober; now he seemed steeped in killing intent, a demon in human skin.

“Ah.”

At a small gasp from somewhere, Ashley snapped her gaze back to the battlefield.

KWA-ROOM!

A deafening crash tore the sky.

Lightning hammered down on the blade Wolfgang had raised.

The Devil’s eyes clenched and opened—strange light spilled from within—and then he vanished.

FLASH.

An instant later, he cleaved a colossal crimson bolt in two.

The lightning died like a candle snuffed out.

Then—THUD!—and everything stopped.

The moment Wolfgang froze like a statue, Ashuban snapped his palm across the back of Wolfgang’s hand.

CLANG!

The scarlet sword flew from his grasp.

As Wolfgang collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, Ashuban kicked the sword far away.

The black storm ceiling peeled back as if it had been a lie.

The sun peeked shyly through the clouds.

The clearing was a mess of spattered blood and patches of charred earth.

“Haa…”

The red-eyed man drenched in blood let out a long, weary breath, squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again.

He swayed, just a little, then turned and shouted, “Someone get me a physician here!”

“Ah!”

The knights, who had been staring in a daze, finally realized at Ashuban’s shout that the battle was over.

Curtis barked orders at once. “Bring a stretcher!”

“Yes, sir!”

Two knights sprinted toward the annex at a frantic clip.

Just then, a nearby tree rustled, and a figure dropped like the wind to land beside Ashuban.

Shushruta asked, “Ashuban. Are you all right?”

He answered, sounding tired, “I’m fine. This isn’t my blood.”

“Hold still.”

“What are you—hey.”

She checked him carefully, here and there, then jabbed a spot along his left arm.

“Ah!”

“Left arm’s injured.”

Ashuban slapped her hand away and grumbled, “It’s nothing. Spit on it and it’ll heal.”

“As if spitting will fix it.”

“Bring another stretcher here!” Shushruta shouted toward Curtis.

Ashuban promptly smacked her on the head.

“Yowch!”

“Quit fussing. My legs aren’t broken.”

“Stop being stubborn. Just get on the stretcher and go quietly.”

“No thanks.”

While the two of them bickered, the Black Crown Prince gave orders to the knights surrounding the clearing.

“Hold your positions! It’s not over yet!”

Then he sprinted toward Ashuban.

“My lord!”

The Black Knight rushed to follow.

Ashuban frowned as he saw the prince running at him.

“Why the fuss? I told you, this isn’t my—”

But the prince dashed right past him and bent over Wolfgang’s collapsed form.

“…”

“Well? If you’re going to say something, finish your sentence.”

“Silence.”

Flustered, Ashuban redirected his irritation onto Shushruta.

The Crown Prince leaned close—Wolfgang was still breathing.

He’s alive!

“Bring a stretcher! Quickly!” he shouted.

“They already went to fetch one, you idiot. You’re late,” Ashuban snapped.

Moments later, four strong retainers came hurrying in and carried Wolfgang away.

Only then did the prince sigh with relief and turn back toward Ashuban.

His eyes weighed heavy.

“….”

“What are you staring at?”

“…I told you to kill him. Why didn’t you?”

Ashuban smirked.

“My choice.”

“….”

The prince’s eyes darkened, unreadable, as he stared.

Just then, Count Starvanger, Ashley, and Curtis approached.

“Lord Ashuban, are you unharmed?” the Count asked.

“Yes, more or less.”

Shushruta immediately cut in. “Not at all! He’s only putting on a brave face. He needs a physician at once!”

“Shut it.”

“Mmph!”

The Count let out a long sigh of relief at their bickering.

“Thank heavens. I thought Hell itself had opened.”

Curtis added, “My lord, are your injuries severe?”

“How many times do I have to say it? It’s nothing.”

Grumbling, Ashuban noticed a blonde knight staring at him in a daze.

“Hm? Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Ah.”

The Count quickly stepped in. “This is the captain of the Starvanger Knight Order. I hadn’t meant to introduce her quite like this.”

Ashuban’s eyes widened.

“What? She’s the captain?”

“That’s right.”

His gaze lit up.

“Then, Sir Curtis—she’s stronger than you?”

Curtis nodded without hesitation. “Yes. Stronger than I am.”

“Ohh…”

Flustered, Ashley hurried to interject. “No, that’s not—”

Curtis cut her off cleanly. “Captain Ashley is also taking part in the duel against the First Prince. This would be a good time to greet Lord Ashuban.”

The Count chimed in, “Indeed. Lady Ashley, didn’t you say your ideal man was one stronger than yourself?”

“Wh—why bring that up now…?”

“This is the Red-Eyed Devil, who slew the Frost Knight. The wielder of the Ninth Demon Blade—Lord Ashuban.”

“Ah…”

“Go on. Introduce yourself.”

“Y-Yes.”

Awkwardly, Ashley extended her hand. “I’ve been too busy to greet you properly until now. Ashley Grandalder.”

Ashuban clasped her hand firmly.

“So you’re the one who filled Sir Curtis’s seat. Pleased to meet you.”

“N-No, that’s not—”

As their hands met, Ashuban’s eyes gleamed.

“Ohh…”

From her palm alone, he could tell. The countless tears and scars of a hand forged by endless training.

“Lady Ashley.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s have a duel sometime.”

“…Excuse me?”

“What kind of sword do you use? You give the impression of favoring swift strikes with a light blade. A rapier, perhaps?”

“Uh…”

Ashuban glanced at Curtis.

“Oh, right. Sir Curtis, you as well?”

Curtis smiled and shook his head. “I’ll decline.”

“Tch.”

Ashuban clicked his tongue.

Curtis’s gaze drifted to the crimson sword still humming on the ground.

It almost seemed to shriek in frustration.

“My lord. That sword…”

“Ah, that thing.”

Ashuban strode over to it.

The closer he drew, the louder the hum grew.

Quite the opposite of its once-docile behavior.

“…Didn’t you say it was docile?”

“So I did.”

Ashuban clicked his tongue.

“The damn thing must’ve been hiding its claws all along. You brat. Quiet down, will you?”

He stomped on the blade.

“…I see.”

“Die! Die! You insolent bastard!”

“….”

“You dare run wild? Rampage? Again? Go on then—everyone’s waiting. Or are you going to disappoint them all?”

“….”

“You little shit. Won’t do it now, huh? What can you even do? Die, damn you!”

The others could only stare blankly as Ashuban mercilessly stomped the sword.

Vrrrmmm…

Finally, after a thorough beating, the blade went silent—almost as if surrendering.

Ashuban gave it a few more kicks before sheathing it at his waist.

“Looks like we’ll be having a little talk later.”

VrrrMMM…!

“Still not shutting up?”

…Vrrm.

Tapping the scabbard, Ashuban announced, “I’d best see a doctor myself. Situation’s over, so let’s disperse.”

Curtis spoke quickly. “Allow me to escort you.”

“No need. I can walk. You should get some rest yourself—I’ll see the physician and then turn in.”

“…As you wish.”

With that, Ashuban trudged off toward the annex.

“Make way, make way! The terrifying Red-Eyed Devil is coming through.”

The knights cleared a path.

“You return unscathed from the road, only to get hurt the moment you’re back. Childish.”

“Shut it.”

With Shushruta nagging at his side, Ashuban disappeared toward the annex.

The Black Knights keeping guard gave him strange looks as he left.

The prince’s gaze, too, clung to Ashuban’s back without letting go.

Ashley, watching his retreating figure, whispered to Curtis, “…Captain.”

“….”

“Ah, Vice-Captain.”

“What is it.”

“The duel. He was just joking… right?”

“….”

(End of Chapter)

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