Overwhelming Firepower

Everyone present waited to hear Lucen’s response. Even the sound of the instruments stopped as the musicians couldn’t help but also listen to Lucen’s conversation.

Count Vermont, who heard what his son said, wanted to slap Reginald so hard. He already understood his son was a fool, but he had made a mistake in understanding how much of a fool he was.

Elandra Vermont was torn. She had only one son, even though she now realized that she had made a mistake in raising him, and felt ashamed for his actions, she still loved him.

Shame burned hot in her chest, but love was a stubborn thing. The same hands that longed to shake sense into him also wanted to shield him from the storm he’d summoned.

She knew that if her son fought Lucen, he would make things far worse than they already are, but she could not intervene, especially since the words of challenge had already been spoken.

The Marquess, who was standing right beside his grandson, was thinking of a way to get out of this situation. Yet no matter how hard he thought, there was no good end in this path.

In his mind, the board unfolded: each move, each counter, each loss inevitable. No strategy led to victory, only to a slower defeat. The only thing he could do now is lessen the blow of defeat.

The ballroom seemed to lean toward Lucen, as if every noble present feared to breathe lest they miss his first word.

”I accept your challenge,” Lucen replied without a hint of worry. In fact, he was thinking about in what way he would claim his victory.

He had grown even more confident in his battle prowess ever since the underground arena. After fighting monsters, assassins, barbarians, and martial artists, fighting a young boy slightly older than him was kind of laughable.

’To think that I would be able to personally perform one of my favorite tropes in novels. Defeating an arrogant loser who thinks he’s all that.’

***

The second Lucen accepted the challenge, the entire ballroom seemed to come alive again, but with an edge. Gasps broke into a low tide of whispers, like waves crashing in quick succession. The entire ballroom had become excited.

A few in the corner had already started murmuring wagers, discreetly flashing coin amounts into cupped hands. Others were watching not the challengers, but the faces of the Dukes, looking for any hint of approval or disapproval.

Some smiled at the thought of Vermont’s humiliation. Others hoped the young Thornehart would be cut down to size. But all of them agreed on one thing: this night had just become unforgettable.

Reginald, however, mistook Lucen’s calm acceptance as arrogance born from pampering. In his mind, he had already pictured the younger boy’s shocked face when his blade pressed against his throat.

”So what are the terms?” Lucen asked. Reginald was about to answer, but the Marquess spoke first.

”We follow the noble dueling code. No killing, first blood or surrender will decide it.”

’First blood? That means I can end this in seconds, or I can extend it to however long I want.’ The trick was deciding whether to humiliate Reginald publicly or just make it swift. Both had their charm.

Reginald, meanwhile, stood taller, mistaking Lucen’s faint smile for fear. ’He’s bluffing. All these stories about him must be exaggerated. I’ll carve that smirk off his face.’

”Alright, I agree to those terms. When and where will the duel be held?” Lucen answered.

”Right here, right now.”

This time, Reginald spoke before the Marquess could intervene. When the Marquess heard Reginald’s answer, even he, who loved all of his grandchildren, was starting to get a little irritated at how foolish Reginald was acting.

This was a chance to hold the duel on another day so that they could prepare, but now they had no chance to do so.

”We can have the duel now, but I don’t think the ballroom is an appropriate area for a duel.”

”You kids can have your duel in the courtyard, that’s where I’ve done a lot of my own duels.” Duke Kaelvar Runescar excitedly suggested, as he wanted to see how his best friend’s son fights. He did not even register who Lucen was fighting, and only wanted to see how Lucen moved in battle.

”It’s already nighttime, and the courtyard would provide little light for a proper fight. I will allow you to use one of the training grounds in the castle.”

This time it was the King himself who spoke. Of course, no one would dare suggest another place once the King spoke.

King Ragnor was also interested in this duel, the same like everybody, and like most of them, he just wanted to see how Lucen fights.

Seeing the King himself was interested in his duel, Reginald was getting even more excited. The second he wins this duel, everything will finally fall into place.

***

The group had switched locations and came to a large training ground inside the castle, which was lit up by the mana lamps. On the wall, there were numerous unsharpened weapons used for training.

The nobles filed in, their fine shoes and boots clicking against the polished stone of the training hall. The mana lamps bathed the place in a pale, steady glow, casting crisp shadows that made the air feel taut.

Servants had already lined the walls with benches, and those who could not sit stood in clusters, whispering behind fans and gloved hands. A few military men in attendance appraised the ground with practiced eyes, as if they were about to judge a tournament match.

Lucen’s gaze swept the room. ’Good visibility, smooth flooring, this place is way better than the rough sand of the underground arena. Shame that it won’t matter, since I could probably do this with my eyes closed.’

Reginald, by contrast, strutted to the center of the training ground, hands flexing as though the fight had already begun in his head. He took one of the unsharpened short swords from the rack, giving it a few experimental swings, fast and flashy, but with wide openings.

The King took his place at an elevated seat, his gaze sharp but not unkind. ”This duel,” he announced, ”shall be bound by the code agreed upon. First blood or surrender will decide the victor. Begin when ready.”

Lucen did not take any weapon from the rack. He simply stood in the center of the training ground in front of Reginald.

”Are you not going to take a weapon? Do you think you can beat me bare-handed, or are you simply going to use that as an excuse later when I beat you? Saying you lost because you fought without a weapon.”

”You misunderstood. I’ll be using a weapon, but it’s this one.” Lucen activated his skill gun creation and made his favorite revolver in both hands.

When the people saw this thing, they were amazed. The mages present could feel the mana in the air stirring, but this was the first time they had seen such a spell that could create an object.

”This is my unique magic.” Lucen fired the revolver at a training dummy that was on the side, piercing its head. ”As you can see, this object sends a projectile flying quite fast.”

There were some that could not follow the bullet trajectory, but many in this place were either aura users or people with mana, so with some concentration, they saw the small object flying out of the item Lucen was holding.

”Is that the weapon that makes the sound of thunder?”

”So it was real.” The nobles watching had heard of Lucen’s new weapon, but they did not expect it to be something created by his unique magic.

Seeing the reaction of the other nobles made Reginald frown as he spoke in a louder voice. ”Parlor tricks. Let’s see how your toy fares against real steel.”

Lucen’s revolvers spun lazily in his fingers before settling in his grip, the polished metal catching the mana lamp’s light. ”You’ll find out soon enough.”

Reginald shifted his stance, blade angled forward. He was planning on ending this duel in a single rush. Reginald, who was a first mantle aura user, charged at an incredible speed.

Lucen, whose passive skills Battle Instinct and Gun Kata, was able to determine the exact timing of Reginald’s charge and easily evaded it.

The moment Reginald entered striking range, Lucen’s foot shifted a single pace to the side, just enough to step out of the charge. His other foot slid subtly into Reginald’s path.

The noble boy’s momentum betrayed him. Balance shattered, he stumbled, dropping to one knee before the watching crowd. Before he could recover, a cold circle of steel pressed between his eyes.

”Bang,” Lucen said flatly. ”You’re dead. Care to surrender?”

”Never!”

Reginald slapped the revolver aside and came in with a flurry of cuts, blade whistling through the air. Yet Lucen simply swayed, leaning back, tilting sideways, letting each strike pass within inches. To the audience, it was as if Lucen was leading the clumsy Reginald in a beautiful dance.

Lucen then blocked the downward sword strike with his revolver and then pointed his other revolver at Reginald’s heart.

”Bang, dead again. So will you surrender now?” Lucen asked nonchalantly, which made Reginald even more furious.

Reginald did not respond with words and instead tried to kick Lucen away, but Lucen intercepted the forward kick with his own, pushing Reginald back. Lucen then fired his gun, the bullet came, and even though he knew it was coming, Reginald was in a poor stance, making it hard to dodge.

Reginald thought he was going to get hit, but there was nothing. Reginald, who had closed his eyes and opened them again, looked at Lucen.

”You died again. Are you going to surrender now?” Lucen spoke with a playful smile on his face.