Ch.482Duel

As soon as I regained my senses, I explained to Ceylon, who was jumping up and down saying he couldn’t commit such irreverence, that this was merely a disguise to avoid further misunderstandings and to overcome my own difficulties.

Since he didn’t seem willing to listen after just one attempt at persuasion, I repeated similar explanations several times.

It wasn’t particularly pleasant to look like a girl begging an obtuse man for attention, but after persistent persuasion, Ceylon finally nodded.

Though his face still showed reluctance, it was as if he was following my orders against his will.

…I’m just as reluctant, you know?

Afterward, Ceylon and I put our heads together to consider a justification for withdrawing troops without causing a commotion.

After all, thousands of soldiers who had marched through snow fields needed a proper reason to return without any achievements.

My romantic… relationship with him would be an explanation to attach later, not something that would work right now.

We decided it would be most natural to retreat under a different pretext first, then reveal this after the troops had returned to the capital.

After much deliberation, our conclusion was to use the fact that I had survived a direct hit from the Light of Judgment, along with Valkers’ name.

Mixing those two elements as dramatically as possible.

—-

“A duel, you say…?”

The judge who heard our story after we left the tent reacted as if we were speaking nonsense.

Ceylon, who stepped forward in my place, gave him a detailed explanation.

The scenario Ceylon and I created was simple.

I claimed that Valkers was the root cause of the rebellion and argued that we should withdraw since the church’s suppression was exactly what he wanted, while Ceylon opposed, saying that if it was Mein’s doing, it should be investigated more thoroughly.

Normally, Ceylon would have ignored my words, but the problem was that I had taken a direct hit from the Light of Judgment without a scratch.

He couldn’t be certain that forcing me would be Astraea’s will, and if conflict broke out with Mein present, it was clear they would suffer massive casualties.

“Therefore, we agreed to decide through a duel. Astraea will provide the answer as to which of us is right.”

“No, we’re not the Church of Volberg, what is this…”

“A duel? Against the Empire’s strongest knight!”

Naturally, all the high-ranking church members opposed.

Though they didn’t say it outright, their eyes clearly asked what nonsense I was spouting after being bewitched by a woman.

Judging by the looks, it seemed the paladins who had entered the tent had already reported what they’d seen to everyone.

And apparently, they had shared their misunderstandings exactly as they were.

…Loose-lipped bastards.

“Are you doubting his fairness? Astraea is the goddess of justice who blesses the righteous, and if our cause is just, she will protect me.”

“If things go wrong, the Cardinal will hold you strictly accountable…!”

“If my judgment goes against Astraea’s will, then so be it.”

Ceylon, with a stiff face and emitting a subtle holy light, dismissed their objections.

The church members wouldn’t be convinced by such bluster alone, but regardless, Ceylon was the one who had been granted overall command of the Holy Corps.

If he insisted, they had no choice but to accept unless they were willing to risk insubordination.

And in the Church of Order, insubordination was an act against that very order.

As a result, a dueling ground was prepared in the open space between their formation and the wall.

If I lost, I would submit to the Church of Astraea’s judgment without resistance; if Ceylon lost, he would withdraw his troops and cooperate with me to track down Valkers.

—-

I set aside my arrows and javelins, which would be of little help in a duel anyway, and faced Ceylon with only Durandal drawn.

“…A holy relic.”

Ceylon offered a brief appreciation upon seeing Durandal’s blade.

Come to think of it, while the fact that I was descended from the Great’s Twelve Knights was quite widely known, few knew the identity of my sword?

Well, perceptive people probably already guessed it.

There was no reason to hide it anyway.

“It’s an heirloom my mother left me. Durandal, the family treasure of House Median.”

“A sword of the Twelve Knights…”

Ceylon muttered quietly, then drew his longsword and lightly placed his left hand on the flat of the blade, running it from the base to the tip.

Following his fingertips, a brilliant holy light bloomed, dyeing the sword blade golden.

…That’s pretty cool.

So he has a flair for showmanship, this man.

“Astraea. Heavenly sword who protects righteous anger, avenger of judgment who destroys sin. Here, your servant prays…”

Holding the sun-bright longsword, Ceylon recited a prayer in a low voice.

A prayer praising the goddess and swearing justice, vowing to be an instrument of Astraea’s judgment and to obey eternally.

“…Finally Her will comes to pass, and thus we shall meet the Day of Judgment.”

The moment Ceylon finished his prayer with the sign of the holy cross,

– Whoosh!

Light pierced through the clouds.

—-

A pillar of holy light soared high into the sky.

Staring into the pillar emitting a brightness that hurt my eyes, I gripped Durandal with both hands and lowered my stance.

‘Day of Judgment’…

I had suggested we fight impressively, but I didn’t expect him to use that from the start.

Apparently, Ceylon wasn’t just acting to create a pretext; he seemed intent on coming at me with his full power.

Unnecessarily diligent, isn’t he.

Well, thinking about it, this wasn’t bad for me either.

There’s no more valuable experience than fighting a hero-class expert, especially when there’s no risk of losing one’s life.

If the deceased Valenstein saw this, he’d rise from his grave in indignation, but since his death, the world’s strongest had been gradually advancing to new heights.

Especially paladins, who grew stronger through miracles and powers bestowed by the gods, were developing even faster than knights.

The same was true for Ceylon.

Before manifesting his power, Ceylon’s skill fell short of Valenstein’s, but the aura emanating from inside the pillar of holy light before me…

He had already reached a level similar to Rurik’s.

Shortly after, as the pillar of holy light gradually subsided, Ceylon’s figure was revealed to all.

Full-body armor that shone brilliantly as if molten from the light of Venus.

A translucent veil of holy light settled on his shoulders and fluttered, while the cloth adorning his skirt absorbed light and rippled.

Something like thorny vines bloomed from the sword blade, binding the base and hilt, and wrapping around his entire right arm.

A golden scale, draped like a halo, burned with light.

A form both sacred and splendid, not unlike a divine servant descended to earth.

Honestly, it was such an impressive sight that I felt the urge to change my career path to paladin.

…Indeed, no profession can match paladins when it comes to spectacular displays.

I honed my senses even more keenly, gauging Ceylon’s suddenly enhanced capabilities.

The power of blessing bestowed upon Ceylon of the “True Gold,” the Day of Judgment.

It was a power that raised all his abilities to their limits, no different from the totality of miracles for a paladin.

“Astraea’s Chief Judge, Ceylon Kabnaksas.”

As Ceylon introduced himself, gripping his thorny sword with both hands, I too pointed Durandal at him and responded.

“Haschal.”

A brief introduction requiring no further words.

Soon, the two longswords charged toward each other.

A roar tore through the earth.

—-

A battle between heroes.

It was already a scene like the reenactment of a myth, something ordinary people couldn’t imagine even in dreams.

– Kwaaang!

Longswords swung at speeds only high-ranking paladins could perceive collided violently, shaking the air.

The frozen earth cracked under the shockwaves, and upturned snow flurries shot toward the sky.

Each time the two blades met, bursts of light flashed like lightning.

A fight between those who had transcended human limits.

The church members watching from afar could only stare blankly at our duel, at a loss for words.

—-

About five minutes into the duel.

Gradually, I could feel the scales of victory tilting in my favor.

This was natural. Despite both being hero-class, there had always been a considerable gap between him and me.

“Haaaah!”

Ceylon, who had circled behind me leaving trails of light, swung his thorny sword with a fierce battle cry.

The longsword, brimming with the goddess’s blessing, fell like the blade of a guillotine.

“Yes, now this is getting fun!”

The excitement of battle soaked my mind.

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter as I blocked Ceylon’s slash by overlapping Frosting with Durandal.

– Kwaaang!

With a sound that pounded my eardrums, my body was thrown backward.

I firmly planted my back heel, using it as an axis to spin halfway around and charge again.

“Kyaaah!”

A thrust extended like lightning aimed at Ceylon’s solar plexus.

Just as Durandal’s tip came within a step’s distance, the light veil covering his shoulders unraveled strand by strand, forming a barrier of holy light.

– Kwachaaang!

As the light barrier shattered in an instant, Ceylon’s body flew backward. The scattered light strands followed him, reforming into a veil of light.

…Blocked, huh. I wasn’t trying to kill him, but that was a thrust I meant to penetrate with. He’s tough indeed.

I charged ferociously like a wolf chasing the sun, instantly catching up to Ceylon and swinging Durandal toward his shoulder.

“Go down!”

A blue-silver arc slashing downward.

Ceylon, who blocked my sword with an unbalanced stance, lost his balance and crashed to the ground.

“Kuk!”

“Your lower body is weak!”

I relentlessly rained down slashes and punches on the fallen Ceylon.

Explosions that shook the sky like a meteor shower.

The earth cracked, and golden fragments scattered in all directions.

Ceylon, from his fallen position, swung his sword without rest to block the lethal attacks, but blow after blow that he couldn’t block rained down on him mercilessly.

The blessing covering his armor shattered, and the judge’s armor began to tear, dent, and distort.

“What, is it over already? Hold out a bit longer!”

“Astraea!”

As if responding to my words, Ceylon called out the goddess’s name.

Simultaneously, the holy light scale illuminating behind Ceylon like a halo exploded.

Wait, that thing explodes?!

Like a heat grenade exploding at close range, fragments of light became dozens of blades shooting toward me.

I hurriedly covered my face with my arms and sword hilt to block the shower of light blades.

– Kadududuk!

Holy light colliding with Frosting scattered like dust, and a blade of light that pierced the leather armor on my right arm dug into my skin, leaving a stinging pain.

Fortunately, it didn’t hurt that much.

At most, it was like having a dagger stuck in my forearm. A tolerable pain.

– Pueok!

Ceylon’s military boot slammed into my abdomen, which was left unprotected as I shielded my head.

A kick extended like a push. With a short groan, I flew backward, and in the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of Ceylon staggering to his feet.

I flipped my body in mid-air to regain my posture, then landed with a slide, spraying snow.

Looking up, I saw Ceylon healing himself with miraculous power and wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.

The scattered holy light regathered, reforming the halo of scales behind his head.

Indeed, I like this.

I smiled broadly as joy colored my heart.

He was a satisfying opponent.

Though he hadn’t used a heroic tale, he was an ally who could somewhat match me, and he was sturdy enough not to suffer serious injuries despite being thoroughly beaten.

There couldn’t be a more suitable person to use as a punching bag.

“Good, very good! You’re not tired already, are you?”

“Don’t worry, I can fight all day!”

Ceylon, who naturally slipped into informal speech, charged toward me.

I burst into a fierce laugh, firmly gripped Durandal with both hands, and ran.

The thorny sword that grazed my side scattered droplets of blood, and Ceylon’s armor, torn by Durandal, split open.

A ten-minute bloody battle, staining the snow field with each other’s blood.

At the end of the heroes’ collision that turned the surroundings into ruins, the sword of Defying Fate shattered Ceylon’s longsword and pierced his shoulder.

It was the moment the winner of the duel was decided.