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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 128

Chapter 128

Not⁠‌‍ only Brunda, but‌‌​ also the warriors‍‍​ beside him twisted‍ their faces strangely.​

More​⁠‌ than anger, it‍⁠ seemed they had​‍​ never considered the‍ possibility that Lucian⁠ would strike back.​‌⁠

“…Huh,‌ shamelessness is also⁠​‌ a trait of​‍ a true warrior.”‌​⁠

Brunda,‍⁠ who had been‍ thinking for quite⁠‌‍ some time about​​ how to retaliate,‌ barely managed to‍‍​ say those words.‌​‌

Perhaps​⁠ because he had⁠ forced them too⁠ much, he couldn’t​⁠‍ control his expression⁠⁠ and his lips⁠ continued to tremble.‌‌‍

But⁠‌‌ it lasted only‌ a moment. Regaining⁠‍​ his composure, Brunda⁠ approached Lucian and​ extended his hand.⁠⁠‍

“Pleased‌​ to meet you,​‌​ warrior. I’m Brunda,‍ son of Ivar,‍⁠ the Red Axe.‍‌ What is your⁠ name?”

“Lucian.‍​ Lucian Grimaldi Valdeck.”​‌

Lucian‍ replied with his⁠⁠⁠ name while extending‍​ his hand. As‌ soon as their‍ hands clasped, Brunda‍ let out a loud laugh.

“Foreigners​‍‌ sure have long‌‌‌ names! What a hassle to recite⁠‍ something like that‌⁠‍ every time!”

“In​​‍ official events, I’m​‍‍ not the one‌‍ who says them,‍ a servant does.​ So it doesn’t⁠ bother me.”

“Ah,‌‌​ because you’re someone​‌ important? Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”⁠

“No‍⁠ need to apologize.⁠ I don’t plan‍‍ to acknowledge your⁠ status either.”

“Hoh,‍ now that’s a problem…”

Brunda‌⁠​ left the sentence‍ hanging while curling‌‌⁠ the corner of‍⁠‍ his lips. At​‍‍ the same time,‌ he began to​⁠ squeeze Lucian’s hand.‍

It‍‍ wasn’t just physical​‍ strength. He was⁠ channeling his mana⁠ to maximize his‌​ muscles.

It⁠‌ wasn’t just a warning; he clearly‌​ intended to crush⁠‍‍ his hand.

“This​ is our land.‌ Even if we⁠‍⁠ don’t acknowledge you,‌‍ you should acknowledge‍‍ us. Don’t you‍‍ think?”

“Who​⁠ knows.”

Despite​⁠ the terrifying pressure​‌ crushing his hand,‌ Lucian’s face remained⁠‌ completely calm.

He‍ had already predicted‍​ how the other‍‍‌ would act the​⁠ moment he offered​ his hand.

He​‌ even gave a slight smile and⁠​​ tilted his head.‌‌

“I⁠ don’t see it​‍ that way. Seems​⁠ we don’t agree.”⁠‌​

“…!?”‌‌

Seeing‌ Lucian’s expression unchanged,​‌‍ Brunda’s eyes widened.‍

But‌⁠‍ before he could‍‌​ say anything, this‌ time Lucian began⁠ to apply force.‌​‌

Brunda​⁠‌ almost screamed. That‌‍‌ small hand, barely‍⁠⁠ half the size⁠‍⁠ of his own,​‌⁠ seemed capable of⁠​ ripping everything beneath​‍ his thumb.

‘This‍‌ bastard…!’

Terrified,​‌‌ Brunda resisted with​⁠‌ all his strength.​​‍ At first, he‍⁠ tried to hide⁠​​ it, but soon‌‌ it became impossible,‌⁠ and he openly​​‍ tried to pull​‌⁠ away.

However,⁠ no matter how​​⁠ much he tried,‌‌ his hand remained‍‌ firmly trapped.

After⁠‍​ watching him for⁠ a moment, Lucian‌‍ lowered the hand‌‍​ with which he‍⁠‌ held him.

“Guh!”‌

Thud.​

“W-Chief‌‌⁠ warrior?!”

As​‌‌ a scream escaped‌‍‍ Brunda’s mouth, unable‍⁠ to endure the‍‍​ pain, the warriors‌ behind him widened‍ their eyes.

Only⁠‌‍ then did they‍‍ seem to realize‍‍ something was very​​ wrong.

When​‍ they tried to‍⁠‍ intervene, Brunda, half-kneeling,​‍ shouted.

“Stop!‍‌ Stand down!”

“But…!”​‌

“I‌ said stand down!”‌​

Despite‌ sweating from the​ pain, Brunda refused‌ help. Seeing the‍ hesitant warriors unable​ to act, Lucian‌ let out a slight chuckle.

“You’d⁠⁠ be better off​ accepting help.”

“Shut​‌ up!”

“A​‍ one-on-one duel also​ requires capability. If‍⁠​ you don’t have⁠‌ it, the normal‍ thing is to‌ ask for help‌ and stay alive—even‍‌ if you lose⁠‌ face in the‍‍‌ process.”

Lucian’s​​ words made Brunda⁠ glare up at‌‌ him in fury.​⁠‌ He looked exhausted,‌ but determination still‍⁠ burned in his‍ eyes.

“I…‌​‍ can’t…!”

“Then​ you’ll die.”

“I’d​ rather… die…!”

“Oh.”​‍

Lucian‍‍​ let out a sound of admiration.‍​​ However, although his‌ lips showed interest,​​‍ his gaze was‍‌‍ ice-cold.

“In⁠⁠​ that case, with‍ pleasure.”

Crunch.⁠‍‍

“Ghk!”‌‍‍

An‌⁠​ unbearable pain forced‍ Brunda to fall⁠⁠​ to his knees.​ The force crushing​‌ him was incomparably‍ greater than before,‌​ pressing his bones‌​⁠ without mercy.

Then‍‌ Brunda understood Lucian’s‍ intent.

‘It’s⁠ not just to‌​‌ cause pain… just​‍ like I tried‍‌ before, he wants⁠‍‌ to leave my​ hand useless…’

Upon​​​ realizing that, he​​ felt his heart⁠​⁠ sink. If he‌ couldn’t use his‌ hand, not only​ would he lose⁠‍ the right to​‌ compete for clan​ leader, he wouldn’t​ even be able‍​ to call himself​‌⁠ a warrior.

He’d​ be beneath his⁠ other brothers—even beneath​ Gunstein.

When‍⁠​ fear, arriving just​ after pride, took‌ over his entire⁠​ body—

“Stop!”⁠

The‍ tent suddenly burst⁠‍ open and someone​‌‍ entered.

The​ warrior, who seemed⁠⁠ older than Brunda,‌ stared straight at​‍​ Lucian and spoke.‍

“That’s​‍‌ enough. Are you​‌ going to spill⁠‌ human blood before‌ even tasting a bite at a banquet?”

“And‍‍ who are you‍‍‍ to say that?”⁠‍

“Ainar.‍ Brother of the‌​ idiot you’re holding.⁠‍‍ Same father, different⁠​ mother.”

“Ghk…”‍⁠

Brunda’s​ face turned red‌‌‌ with shame. He⁠‍ looked mortified to‌‍‌ have embarrassed himself⁠​‍ in front of⁠‍ Ainar, his rival.⁠‍

Lucian⁠ observed Ainar for​‌​ a moment before‌ replying.

“The⁠ one who wanted⁠ to see blood​‌ first was your‍​ brother.”

“The⁠ weak always act​ in haste. The​​ strong, on the‌‍‌ other hand, stay‍‍ calm. What reason​ would a strong‌ one have to⁠​ act like the⁠‌ weak?”

“Oh.”‍

A second sound of‍‌ admiration escaped Lucian’s‌ lips. If the​‍​ previous one had‍‍ been almost a mimic, this one⁠ carried genuine surprise.‌‍

It‍‌ was hard to​‍​ believe someone who‌‍‌ had never studied‌ rhetoric could speak‌ so eloquently.

“You’re⁠​ a smooth talker.”⁠

“I​‌‌ speak honestly.”

“Well‍ then.”

Lucian‌ let go of​ Brunda’s hand as‌⁠‌ if he had‍ no choice. Only‍‍⁠ then was Brunda⁠ able to withdraw​​⁠ his fingers, already​ half cracked, clutching⁠‌⁠ them with his‌ other hand.

Ainar⁠ briefly clicked his‌​ tongue as he‍​⁠ looked at his​‌​ half-brother.

“Sit‍ down.”

“…”​‌

Brunda‍ trembled with humiliation,‍‌​ but sat without​ saying a word.⁠‍ He understood that⁠​ no matter how⁠ much he protested,‍‍ all he would‌‍ achieve was losing⁠‌⁠ even more dignity.‌⁠⁠

Once⁠‌‌ the commotion died​⁠ down, another group‌‌​ entered the tent,​ led by someone​ different.

Unlike‌ Ainar, who had​‍ intervened as a brother, this one⁠‌‌ seemed to be‌ looking to gain‌​ something from the‍ situation.

The⁠ four heirs to‌⁠‌ the succession right⁠ were gathered in​​‍ one place, and​‍ an awkward silence​⁠‌ spread for a while.

“Looks‌‍‍ like we’re all⁠‍ here.”

With⁠​ a deep voice,​​ the last attendee⁠‌‍ made his appearance.⁠

Upon​ seeing the elderly‍ warrior with half​⁠ a severed left‍ ear and only‍‌​ one eye, Lucian​ immediately knew who‌‍ he was.

Gunstein’s​‌ father.

The⁠ chief of the‌‍⁠ Blue Dragon Clan.⁠

Marius’s​​ declared enemy.

And‌‌ the man guarding‍‌ the Dragon’s Heart​ that Lucian had‍ to obtain.

‘Ivar‌ of the Red⁠ Axe.’

Ivar‍‌ walked firmly between⁠​​ the attendees and‍ sat in the‌‌‍ seat of honor.‍‌‌

At‌ that moment, everyone⁠‌ except Lucian jumped‌​ to their feet​‍ and shouted in⁠ unison.

“The‍⁠‌ ignorant descendants of‍⁠ the dragon salute⁠‌‌ the great Blue‌⁠‌ Dragon!”

***⁠​

“…”​‍

“…”​​

After‌​ the thunderous greeting,‌​‌ the banquet was⁠​⁠ shrouded in silence.‌‌​

All​ eyes turned to‌⁠ Lucian, who remained⁠​ seated in complete⁠ calm.

The‍​⁠ pressure was clear—stand‍ up and pay⁠ your respects too.​

But‌ Lucian, resting his​⁠‌ chin in his​‌ hand with blatant‍ indifference, said.

“How‌ long do you​⁠ plan to keep​⁠‍ them standing? Their​⁠‍ legs must be⁠⁠‌ hurting. You could​ at least accept​‌ their greeting.”

“…!?”​

The⁠ heirs to the​ succession were stunned‍‍​ by his attitude,​ as if none‌⁠ of it concerned⁠ him.

Even​ Ivar, who had​‍ remained impassive until​ then, slightly furrowed‍‌​ his brow.

Unable‍‌​ to bear it,​‌‌ Brunda explained the‌ situation bluntly.

“Everyone’s​ waiting for you‍⁠ to pay homage‌ to the chief.”‌‌‍

“Homage?‌​ Me, to the‍ chief?”

Lucian​⁠ let out a nasal laugh and​ tilted his head.‌‌

“How‍‍​ absurd. Why should​⁠‍ I?”

“You‌​ bastard!”

A warrior jumped to‍‍​ his feet, furious.‍ He was the​⁠ same one who‍‍​ had watched from‍⁠ the sidelines when​⁠‍ Lucian and Brunda⁠ clashed without intervening.‌

“You⁠ occupy this seat​ in Gunstein’s place!‍​⁠ That means you​ must pay the‍​‍ homage that was‌⁠‌ due from him!”‍⁠

“That​ logic is strange.‍‌ I didn’t replace‌⁠ Gunstein. I only‌​​ took the rights‌‍ he possessed.”

“It’s​​ the same thing!”‍

“No.‌‍ Gunstein pays homage⁠ because he’s the‍​​ chief’s son and​ a member of​ the clan. I am neither his​​‌ son nor part‍‍ of this clan,⁠‍‌ so I don’t‍ see why I should.”

“…”‍‍

The⁠ warrior was left⁠⁠ speechless, unable to​​‍ reply.

Come​‍‍ to think of⁠‍‍ it, Lucian wasn’t‍‌ wrong.

Whoever‌ defeats a warrior‌ inherits their status,‍⁠ not the personal⁠⁠⁠ obligations that warrior‍‌⁠ had before. No‍​​ one could arbitrarily​​ impose duties within⁠ the clan.

It​‍‍ was a self-evident‍ truth, but no‍‍‌ one had known​​⁠ how to process‍ it in such‌ an unusual situation.‌

“But⁠⁠ even so…”

“That’s‌⁠ enough.”

Ivar’s⁠‍​ voice, which had‍​‍ remained silent since​​ he sat, rang‍‍⁠ out coldly. The⁠ warrior shut his​ mouth and sat​​​ back down.

After‌‍‍ a brief pause,​​⁠ Ivar stared at⁠‌ Lucian.

“You’re⁠ right. It’s not​ obligatory to pay‌‌ me homage.”

“I​ appreciate it.”

“But‍ there’s something you‌​‌ should know.”

“I’ve​​⁠ tolerated many of‌‌ your mistakes.”

“And⁠⁠ if you don’t​ show even the‍⁠​ slightest respect, even‍⁠ my patience has‌​⁠ limits.”

“Mistakes?​⁠​ What mistake have​⁠ I made?”

Lucian‌ shrugged, genuinely confused.‌

Then‌ Ivar pointed without​‍ hesitation behind Lucian.⁠⁠‌

“Among‍⁠ other things, the⁠​⁠ most ridiculous one‌‍⁠ is bringing a concubine to this‍​​ place.”

At​⁠​ the word, Lucian’s‌‌ group jumped and⁠ turned their heads.‌‍

Ivar’s⁠⁠‌ finger was aimed⁠⁠​ directly at Felicia.‍‍⁠

“I‍ don’t know how​ libertine your homeland‍⁠ is, but here,​​ only warriors may⁠‌⁠ enter. If you’re⁠ not looking to⁠‍ insult us, get​‍ your concubine out​⁠ immediately.”

“Then⁠​‌ there’s no problem.”⁠⁠

“She’s‌‍ not my concubine.‍⁠‍ She’s a warrior.”​‍​

“…What?”‍

Ivar⁠‍​ repeated with a grotesque expression, unable‌ to hide his‍‌‍ confusion. The other‍‌ heirs and warriors‌‌ reacted the same‌​​ way.

“Did⁠​ I mishear?”

“A​⁠‍ woman, a warrior?”⁠‍​

“You‌ heard right. She’s‌⁠​ a warrior and⁠​ my guard.”

“Pfft!”⁠⁠

“What‍ an excuse!”

“A‌‍ woman as a bodyguard?!”

“Now‍‍ I’ve seen everything!”‌

“Hahaha!”‍⁠

Laughter‌⁠⁠ erupted throughout the‍‍⁠ tent. No one​‍ seemed to take‍ it seriously.

“So​⁠ you let yourself‌ be protected by‌​ a woman?”

“You‌‍‍ give her a sword and ask⁠‍ her to guard⁠‍ you?”

“We‍ fight together, so‍​ it’s not incorrect.”⁠

“If‌​ I’m going to‍ entrust my back‍​ to someone, it’ll‌ be her.”

“This​ is a masterpiece.​‍ A true masterpiece.”⁠

A thick smile spread​​‌ across Ivar’s face.‍​ Inside, he mocked‍ Lucian’s foolishness.

“Alright‌‍ then.”

“How⁠ strong is this​ woman?”

“Is​ she stronger than​​ you?”

“She’s​ stronger than you.”‌

“What?”⁠‌‍

“Much⁠⁠ stronger than you.”‍‍

“To​‌ be precise, she’s‍⁠‌ stronger than everyone​ here.”

The‍ laughter stopped instantly.⁠⁠

The‍⁠‍ warriors’ faces twisted‍⁠‍ as if they’d⁠ just been handed‌ an unbearable humiliation,‌​ and they reflexively‌‍ reached for their⁠​‌ waists.

If‍​ not for the​ banquet, they would’ve​​ already drawn their‌‍ weapons.

In​‌ the midst of​ the suffocating tension,​ Ivar fixed a killing glare on⁠​ Lucian.

“Can‌⁠ you take responsibility​‌‌ for those words?”‍

Lucian​⁠‌ responded without a second’s hesitation.

“If‍⁠ even one of‍ the warriors here⁠‍​ can withstand a single blow from‍⁠‍ her sword…”

“I’ll​‍ lay my head‌ on the table.”‍‌⁠

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