Chapter 9 - The Duel

Hall was paralyzed with fear. He could hardly believe what he’d just heard. His father had to know that once the duel began, Rege could take his life at any time. How could his father be willing?

The old Duke pointed at him and ordered again, “Get dressed, grab a sword, and duel!”

“Dad, I’ll die! Please save me,” Hall pleaded in a trembling voice. Tears mixed with snot streamed down his face.

His wretched, ugly, craven appearance provoked even deeper disgust from the knights of Grande. Beyond question it was shameful for them to serve such a man.

Standing outside the gate, the nobles watching the fun were secretly laughing up their sleeves. If the old Duke really chose Hall as the heir, they could join forces to carve up Grande’s wealth in the future. Hall, that worthless wretch, was simply incapable of holding on to such a vast and rich piece of territory.

The old Duke knew what everyone was thinking. He too had realized the foundations of the Grande were crumbling.

Consequently, when the Duchess ran out of the castle and grabbed at his arms, piteously begging him not to force her son to duel, he pushed the woman away viciously.

He pointed to the two lions standing proudly at the entrance and said coldly, “Either duel or lose your position as heir, choose one. If I immediately divorce your mother, you’ll no longer be the eldest son of Grande. You’ll have nothing.”

These words hit both Hall and the Duchess dead center.

The two people instantly froze. Their idea of muddling through by begging and crying was dashed. They realized everything they had came from the old Duke’s charity, and this charity could be withdrawn at any time.

“Dad, no, I’ll go, I’ll duel.” Hall tried to get up but fell several times. He was so scared his legs wouldn’t support him.

At the old Duke’s signal two manservants helped him up and sent him into the castle to dress.

A short while later, Hall came out carrying a long sword and wearing heavy armor.

Rege finally turned around to examine the other party. Seeing the armor and the sword, his lips curled with contempt, and he immediately cast a mocking glance at the old Duke.

The two items were his father’s treasures. One was indestructible, the other could slice through iron like mud. As a child, Rege had dreamed of possessing them but wasn’t permitted even the lightest touch.

His father said the two armaments had led him to countless victories. They were the distillation of sweat, blood, and glory. If Rege wanted them, he should use his own sweat, blood, and glory to infuse his armor and sword.

The young Rege was shaken by the words and consequently implemented this idea throughout his life. Whatever he wanted he seized with his own strength, for this was the code of a knight.

But now, these two treasures were strapped to the body of the good-for-nothing Hall. How was he qualified? On the basis of cowardice, weakness, contemptibility, and indecency?

So all the blood and glory his father spoke of was actually bullshit, right?

“The ideal is tainted, isn’t it?” Rege shook his head and murmured.

The corners of his mouth turned up, as if he were smiling, but a cold and violent storm gathered in his eyes.

The old Duke sensed the change in his mood and hastened to admonish, “Stop when it’s time, don’t kill anyone! I’ll be watching you!”

With those words, the Duke took up the knight commander’s sword and waited for the fight to begin. He was the only person in the entire continent of Tortus who could fight evenly with Rege, and he had the ability to save his eldest son from his second son’s blade. The moment Rege revealed killing intent, he would step in.

Hearing these words, the nervous Hall, who was trembling with tension, immediately relaxed his expression. He raised his jaw at Rege and threw a goading look.

Rege smiled coldly and said nothing.

The surrounding knights, however, immediately frowned.

Disrupting a duel was a violation of chivalry and the law. The Duke of Grande had really aged, he’d completely lost the iron blood, bravery, and boldness of the past. Forget Hall, even the current Duke wasn’t worthy to lead the great Grande.

With these thoughts, the duel began.

Rege raised his sword to slash. Hall promptly blocked, then let out a scream. His arm had gone numb from the shock.

Rege’s tremendous force wasn’t something ordinary people could bear. Even the legendary sword that cut through iron like mud produced an ear-splitting rasp.

In a fraction of a second, Rege struck a second blow. Hall fought with all his strength to meet the attack, only to hear the “clang-kang” sound of snapping metal. The iron-cutting sword was cut in two. And in that moment, the glory and pride that was the old Duke’s entire life disappeared like smoke.

The crowd of onlookers couldn’t help but let out a horrified shout.

The old Duke abruptly widened his eyes. He felt like the earth and sky were spinning, and his head was dizzy. He should have known. Hall couldn’t even safeguard these two treasures, much less become his pride.

The sword’s momentum continued. After cutting through Hall’s longsword Rege slashed hard at his opponent’s shoulder. With a burst of blood, the armor that was hardened in the flames of war actually broke, and a spray of blood burst out. In the face of absolute power, the so-called invulnerable armor couldn’t withstand a single blow.

Hall’s scream startled the birds around the castle. They twittered and flew away in flocks, while the onlookers squeezed a little closer, eager to witness Hall’s crushing defeat.

The old Duke forced down the heartache of losing his most cherished possessions and hurried to the rescue.

He was afraid his second son would kill his first son.

But Rege didn’t swing his sword a third time.

Just when everyone thought he was going to kill Hall, he chose mercy. He threw away his blood-stained longsword, leaned down, and slowly said, “See that? All of Grande’s glory has been destroyed for you.”

The glory he spoke of naturally referred to the armor that had withstood countless attacks, and the longsword that had taken the heads of countless enemies. They were treasures in the hands of heroes and good for nothing in the hands of the weak.

And Grande’s fate would be identical to these two already mutilated artifacts. If this rich and powerful territory was given to Hall to manage, it would surely come to an end in a very short time.

The knights bowed their heads with unhappiness.

The old Duke wiped his face and heaved a sigh of regret. He knew that even though Rege hadn’t killed Hall, he’d completely shattered the eldest son’s authority, reputation, and face. If he persisted in having his way and let the eldest son inherit Grande, the family that had prospered for hundreds of years would certainly collapse like a decaying edifice.

Rege had triumphed on all fronts.

The old Duke lowered his longsword. His haggard face showed a look of exhaustion.

The Duchess shrieked to her servants to help her son, then called the doctor over. The servants scurried around like a swarm of headless flies.

The ducal palace was in a state of chaos.

The crowd outside was pointing and clamoring at such a scene. But Jian Qiao covered his face with his hands and hastily backed away. The burst of blood had reminded him of his last life. The excruciating pain of his heart being punctured had returned, incomparably real, and with every step he felt like he was struggling through a swamp.

It was then that he realized he’d been splattered with blood.

He lacked the strength to go on. All he could do was lean on the stone lion and close his eyes to catch his breath. Shaking his head gently, he tried to chase away those terrible memories.

Just then, the crowd cried out in horror.

He automatically opened his eyes and looked through the iron gate, only to see Hall snatch up the longsword on the ground and stab at Rege, who was walking away with his back to him.

He’d already lost everything. Only if Rege died would his father let him inherit Grande. Too much shame, anger, and fear had gathered in his heart, and these overwhelmingly dark emotions had long since swallowed up his sanity in one gulp.

As he smiled a sinister grin, the crowd screamed.

The old Duke’s eyes were stern. He raised his sword to stab the sneak attacker, but halted his movement at the last instant. This was the son he’d nurtured with all his love, he couldn’t do it.

Knights standing nearby stepped forward to the rescue, but they were simply too far away to stop the assassination attempt. Hall was too close to Rege. Just one more step and he could thrust his sword into Rege’s heart.

How despicable and shameless was it to attack from behind after losing? How cowardly and incompetent was it, how sordid and vile?

The rage of the knights completely ignited.

Jian Qiao forced down the dizziness in his head, staggered towards the gate, and shouted a warning: “Watch your back!” He was afraid the same thing would happen to Rege, and he knew all too well the agony of being stabbed through the heart.

The tip of Rege’s ear twitched slightly, then he quickly dodged. The sword blade grazed his arm and pierced only air, while he spun around and swung a heavy punch.

There was a loud bang. Hall was actually knocked flying five or six meters. When he landed, the crowd saw that his helmet was actually sunken in with a fist print, and thick blood bubbled up from his forehead.

The doctor rushed forward to take off the helmet. He took a close look and immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

Only to see Hall’s skull was actually dented too. Not only was blood flowing from the wound, white brain matter was slowly oozing out. It was a hopeless injury.

With just one fist, Rege had crushed the indestructible steel armor. What kind of terrible combat power was this?

The knights who were closest knelt on one knee, covered their chests with their hands, and bowed slightly in salute. This was their way of showing respect and their determination to offer their loyalty.

Rege took the pure white handkerchief handed to him by the knight commander, and slowly and methodically wiped his blood-stained fist.

He turned sideways, looked at his father, and asked with a cold expression, “Just now, when Hall tried to murder me, you clearly could have stopped it, right? But you didn’t, which means you wanted me to die in the duel. In your heart, I’m not your son. Hall is.”

The old Duke looked at him with a pale face. He couldn’t speak for a long time.

Rege didn’t care about his answer at all. He kicked away the broken longsword that belonged to the old Duke and said sarcastically, “Norton Grande, your time is over. As of today I consider you dead too. I’m not your son and you’re not my father. Whether you like it or not, Grande has only one heir, and that’s me.”

The old Duke’s straight back slowly hunched over. He sensed the dissatisfaction and indignation of the knights, and was conscious of the contempt of the onlookers. His weakness had covered up his former glory with dust and ash that couldn’t be erased.

A beauty’s home is a hero’s grave. When he abandoned himself to a woman’s charms and lost his reason, he’d reached a dead end.

Rege had killed his most beloved eldest son, but he couldn’t say a word, because everyone present knew the eldest son deserved to die. When Hall raised his longsword to attack from behind he was morally dead, and sparing his life wouldn’t have quelled the outrage of the witnesses.

Rege marched over to the dying Hall, lifted his chin, and said with a smile, “You know, I left that sword for you on purpose. Pick it up and die, don’t pick it up and live. Nobility doesn’t only come from blood, it also comes from virtue. But unfortunately your bloodline and character are both inferior. You’re simply not worthy to rule Grande.”

Hall, who was staring at him with bloodshot eyes, finally swallowed his last words of resignation and remorse.

Helen, who was standing on the balcony of the castle watching these events, ran out with her skirts up. She shouted hysterically, “Rege, I’m going to the King to sue you! I’ll send you to the guillotine! You just wait!”

The knights who were half-kneeling to pledge allegiance to Rege immediately stood and prepared to go after the woman.

But Rege waved his hand and sneered. “Let her go.”

He’d already arranged the end of this brother and sister.

The old Duke sensed something. He hastily ordered his servants, “Go and get Helen, now!”

However, the Duchess pointedly stopped them. “No one’s allowed to go!” After saying this she sent a carriage to take her daughter to the palace.

The old Duke pulled the Duchess aside to discuss their relationship in the severest terms. Whatever the future of this couple, Rege didn’t care. Matters had already reached this point, no one could change the outcome.

He waved away the knights flanking him and strode out of the castle.

The crowd of spectators immediately backed away and scattered in all directions. No one dared to face the majesty of this lion, even less could they withstand his murderous aura.

The limp Jian Qiao, however, was too dizzy to escape. With his back against the stone lion all he could do was slowly take deep breaths. He absolutely could not faint, lest anyone discover his weakness at the sight of blood.

Noticing that Rege had firmly locked his eyes on him, and was fast approaching, he stiffened, suddenly feeling that things were not going well.

TL Notes:

Transliterated names, titles, and places—new in this chapter:

诺顿格兰德 – NuòDùn GéLánDé – Norton Grande, ML’s father