Threat (3)
The shadows cast from Cadis Castle leaned obliquely on the dirt floor of the Knights Templar training grounds.
A podium and chairs were placed under the awning installed in the center of the training ground. It was Ingrid’s place. It was made a long time ago, but it was still vacant.
In the left and right areas of the square training ground, the Imperial Family and the de Winter Knights were lined up, respectively. Fatigue crawled like a spider among the Imperial Knights.
The deputy commander glanced at Marius who was examining the sword from the rear of the knights. He lowered his voice to the knight commander who sighed deeply in front of him.
“Please think again, Commander.” The deputy hurriedly approached him and lowered his voice and appealed. “No matter how much the duke wins the battle with the power flowing through his veins, he is a warrior who has devoured half of the continent anyway. But His Highness, his experience with a sword is only within the empire.”
Instead of answering, the knight commander covered his mouth with his gloved hand. He also tried to appeal but to no avail. When he heard that the duke would not wear armor, the prince even declared that he would duel with him in uniform as well.
He was a well-bred prince, but he was indeed an impulsive man. As a member of the knights, he was the master he respected more than anyone else, but today he was arrogant. Even if they gave Marius a sword and the duke nothing to fight other than his bare hands, there was no chance of winning. Even if something unexpected happened, no one would know what would happen.
“Is there really the need to duel? Thanks to his bloodline, even if he doesn’t sleep for a month, he would be alright. What if he uses his powers again this time, Commander?
“…His Highness has already accepted it. Now, what more can we do? We should hope that His Highness will surrender before he is mortally wounded.”
The gloomy gaze of the knight commander turned to the de Winter knights lined up on the other side. They were all dressed in black uniforms and lined up without any error. However, the atmosphere was quite different from that of the Imperial Knights, which were close to pessimism.
Gallahead scratched his beard and walked over to Vlad. “Reporting.”
Black hair that was swept up, and a uniform that was more organized than anyone else in the Knights Templar. Because it was a uniform for a ceremonial officer, it was by no means an outfit suitable for battle. Still, none of the Knights of de Winter were scared for their master.
“That… How would you like to use a wooden sword, sir? I asked them to pick a few of the weaker ones.”
Instead of answering, Vlad checked the rough blade of the sword and put it into the sheath carelessly.
Gallahead coughed carefully, clearing his throat. “Hm. But did you really ask the prince to duel directly? Isn’t that what the Prince did?”
A duel. Maybe it was Marius, who revered honor the most in the Empire, who initiated it. But their master, who is disgusted with his pretentiousness, asked for it. It was nonsense that would make a passing chicken laugh if it had been heard as a rumor.
“The prince insulted Lily.”
Gallahead’s thick eyebrows twitched for a moment. A very bloody look filled the corners of his eyes. The other knights heard Vlad’s answer as well. The atmosphere plummeted as if it had swallowed a stone.
No matter how much their master respected his wife, he never had an impulsive temper enough to point a sword at the prince with some kind of insult. So, even if they didn’t have to listen to the prince’s speech, it must have been something that he despised quite a bit.
In fact, it didn’t matter if it was as trivial as a speck of disparagement. Soon, an aura like black smoke emanated from between them.
Gallahead, who was casting a cold glance at the Imperial Knights, stopped. As if puzzled, he narrowed his brow and glanced across the Knights of de Winter. He had no one to show.
“But where else did the priest go before this great duel? If the prince is fatally injured, there is no one other than the priest who can take action…”
“Her Highness the Princess is here!”
With her head raised like a peacock, Ingrid strode into the training ground. Lowell followed her.
The saturation of her red dress was so vivid that her eyes were dazzling. It was an unconventional shape that showed her shoulders as well as her clavicles coolly. From her neck, a diamond necklace, brighter than the sunlight, shone with a clamor.
As Ingrid was seated, Marius and Vlad approached under the podium. She sat with her legs crossed.
“As I live my life, I can even see the prince and the duke duel! It’s going to go down in history. Marius! In fact, it’s a bit of a waste to watch this alone. Hehe.”
Ingrid grabbed her fan and covered her face. The feathers that adorned the fan fluttered in the sky. She narrowed her piercing eyes. Her fingernails were curved like a moon, and it seemed like she was smiling a lot behind her fan.
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