Chapter 11

The first strike was a sharp thrust that seemed to tear his right shoulder. This was far from the gentle probing of a mere feint. It was a blow designed to draw blood, even while avoiding a fatal wound. He shifted his body to dodge and took a step back to create some distance.

The rules of a duel in a tavern were simple. The fight was over as soon as one side started bleeding, and the matter was settled. It was a gentlemanly rule, one that did not involve taking lives.

Karia Bardonic had deliberately pulled out two knives from a beast, along with her silver longsword. In this world of martial arts, where the rules—or rather, the distance—dictated the outcome, how significant was the difference in the length of their weapons?

It was obvious. Naturally, the shorter weapon was at a significant disadvantage.

* * *

The silver blade sliced through the air with a sharp sound, tracing a path as it came at him again. He deflected it with the knife in his right hand, matching its trajectory. Even a minor scratch was not allowed under these rules. And with this difference in distance, he had to get inside, closer, to have any chance of winning.

He took a step forward. The silver blade continued its relentless thrusts, growing sharper with each strike. He couldn't even take a step back to gain some distance. The moment he parried the sword with the knife in his left hand, the silver blade aimed to slice through his shoulder. If he blocked this slash with the knife, it would be the end. The knife would shatter, and he would be wounded, though not fatally.

What would happen then? He would be reduced to a lackey. Ah, that would be no different. It would be the same path he had once taken.

The silver threat did not stop. In fact, it wouldn't stop to prevent him from making a move. A series of rapid strikes were the best way to knock the opponent down and trample them. She knew this well.

"Wh-What!?"

The silver line, which had been relentlessly targeting his torso, now aimed for his wrist. He twisted his body and deflected it with the knife. It was an obviously forced move. The base of the knife wobbled, showing its limits. Could this woman really use such a delicate technique?

* * *

The cunning old man, Richard, stroked his beard as he watched the scene.

"Is it over already?"

While saying this, Karia Bardonic tried to control her slightly labored breathing, which had just started. The close distance that Louis had maintained would have to be reset. Still, the advantage remained firmly on her side.

"No, no, please, spare me. I'm just a sewer rat, you know."

Louis's provocative yet measured voice echoed well in the silent tavern.

The atmosphere around them had changed from the initial festive mood to one of tense anticipation as everyone watched the exchange between the two. Everyone had thought the fight would be decided in the first or second strike, and naturally, with Louis's defeat.

Louis was hardly a seasoned adventurer, still living a life of rat extermination and sewer cleaning. He was barely even considered an adventurer.

Yet, this novice, even as a squire, was holding his own against a knight. With two knives, he parried and deflected countless strikes, skillfully using his wrists to counter the longsword. This was no easy feat. Once could be a fluke, twice a miracle, but if it continued a third time, it was undeniable skill.

No one understood why. The change was too dramatic. What had happened while he was away? Richard showed his teeth in amusement, his throat making a sound as he observed his student.

But the reason didn't matter. To this ruthless man, the value of a person was based on their usefulness. Until now, Louis had been at best a decoy. That was a fair assessment and a harsh reality. But now...

* * *

* * *

The sound of metal slicing through the air came from Karia Bardonic's overhead strike. It was not a technique suitable for a duel but rather a battlefield move, one that could cleave an armored knight in two. It cut through the silent tavern air and met Louis's knife.

The knife broke. No matter how skillfully he tried to parry the powerful strike, he couldn't escape the pressure at the point of contact. The blade shattered at the base and pierced a nearby table. The silver blade then swept horizontally. He couldn't parry it. Against such a perfect combination, he couldn't even dodge. With one knife broken and in an unstable position, he seemed unable to resist.

Richard stood up, thinking it was time to intervene. If he didn't, the knight might kill Louis. Louis still had value to him. Besides, he was his student, albeit a poor one. He could simply declare the fight over. That would end this duel, which had already lasted longer than it should have.

* * *

* * *

But the words never left his mouth.

It was a strange sight. Louis's green clothing was slightly torn as he deflected the sweeping horizontal strike with a curved motion. He shifted his body and aligned the other knife with the longsword, changing its trajectory and slicing it away into the air.

Astonishment. That was the only word to describe it. The movement was like the result of years of training. Even if it were, it was impossible to perform such a move after just one glance. It was as if he had anticipated everything, as if he knew the flow of the combination and the knight's habits. Karia Bardonic's expression changed to one of shock in that instant.

The distance, which had always been open and never closed, suddenly changed. The moment the sword was deflected, the distance transformed into the range of the knife.

Following the flow of deflecting the longsword, the knife traced a line, slicing toward Karia Bardonic's shoulder. The trajectory was perfect, a strike that took advantage of the knife's range and traced the shortest path to the opponent.

But Karia Bardonic was no ordinary person. When it came to swordsmanship, she was unmatched.

The sword, which had been deflected, danced in the air and came back, aiming to cut her opponent. Her strength and actions were undoubtedly the result of daily training and her natural talent. An ordinary person would have hesitated, tried to take the distance, and been cut down.

The reflection of the knife's blade flickered as it slightly changed its trajectory, aiming for Karia Bardonic's neck. At the same time, the base of the longsword aimed to crush Louis's shoulder.

In that instant, all that existed was cause and effect. There was no superiority, compatibility, or strength. Only the natural cause and its inevitable result, leading to the conclusion of the fight.

"―That's enough!"

Richard's voice, declaring the end of the duel, echoed through the silent tavern.