Chapter 75

“Did you wait long?”

“No, you arrived right on time. But the guy behind you…”

Harald spoke as if it were nothing, but Lucian couldn’t let it slide. If anything unexpected happened, things could get complicated.

Sensing Lucian’s unease, Harald gave a bitter smile.

“Don’t worry about him. I just plan to leave him standing there like a post.”

“May I ask why?”

“He’s my last attachment.”

With those words, Lucian could more or less understand Harald’s feelings.

A son who not only disrespected the traditions of the North, but wanted to destroy them completely.

It was already too late to fix their relationship, but perhaps, through this duel, he still hoped the boy could learn something.

“…”

Torik, unaware of everything, just pressed his lips together and averted his gaze.

Understanding the situation, Lucian nodded and stepped forward.

“Alright. When do we begin?”

“No need to make the crowd wait. Draw your sword.”

Thud.

The heavy axe hit the ground, making the surroundings tremble. The sound was different than before.

‘That’s no ordinary axe. A relic?’

A relic from the past, created with ancient techniques now lost.

Even lower-grade ones sold at outrageous prices, and mid-grade relics could rival family heirlooms.

And, as expected, their power matched their rarity.

‘He doesn’t plan on holding back at all.’

Lucian gave a faint smile and drew his sword. Though it wasn’t a relic, it was forged from adamantium, an extremely rare material.

In terms of durability, it could easily withstand attacks from a relic. The duel’s outcome would come down purely to skill.

“May this duel be fair and honorable, without shame before the Eight Gods.”

Raymond, acting as judge, concluded the short ritual and stepped back. At the same moment, Harald stepped forward, the air exploding around him.

Faced with that absurd speed, Lucian chuckled internally.

‘Is that the power of the relic?’

Runes hidden on the axe began to glow, releasing a palpable magical energy. A regular knight wouldn’t even dare face it.

But Lucian instead swung his sword with full force.

In the instant the heavy axe and the slender sword clashed—

Boom!

A deafening roar shook the area, and a shockwave blasted in every direction.

***

Gasp!

“…”

Palmir, a knight of Count Calix, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Each clash between sword and axe sent tremors through his body from the sheer pressure.

A single exchange would’ve shattered his arm. But those two kept repeating that impact over and over.

‘This is so ridiculous I want to laugh.’

That Harald had such strength was surprising, but understandable.

In his youth, he was known as the “Wolf Hunter,” feared even by the former lords. His physique, training, experience, and the relic’s power explained everything.

‘…But that boy—how is this even possible?’

Lucian was only sixteen, with an average build and no long-term battlefield experience.

His sword, aside from its durability, had no magical properties.

‘How can he fight Harald on equal footing?’

Boom!

Another blast rang out. Both fighters stepped back.

“Hahaha! Haha!”

Harald burst out laughing uncontrollably. His eyes still reflected surprise, but also deep excitement.

‘I knew he was hiding something… but I never imagined this.’

He had used all his strength, even the family relic.

Not to win, but to show Lucian what the North truly was. If he couldn’t withstand that pressure, it was better he left.

But—

‘He intends to defeat me head-on!’

His heart, dormant for years, began pounding once more.

It wasn’t just the thrill of combat.

It was the excitement of realizing this promising young man wasn’t just talented—he was a hero in the making.

‘Maybe… maybe the unification of the North isn’t just a dream.’

“Are you satisfied?”

Lucian’s calm voice reached his ears.

Still holding the axe, Harald looked at him. Despite all their exchanges, Lucian still had reserves.

“Of course! Do you still have more to show?”

“If you wish.”

As he replied, a blue energy began to ripple around Lucian’s body. The now-visible magic sparked a wave of gasps from the crowd.

“Mana manifestation!”

“This is insane…!”

For mana to become visible to the naked eye meant one of two things—either Swordmaster-level mastery, or an utterly overwhelming amount of mana.

Either case made him a monster.

“Man… I’ve never been this surprised in my life.”

Feeling the mana waves on his skin, Harald gripped his axe. He wanted to keep trading blows, to see what else Lucian was hiding.

But his body was already creaking from the strain.

“It’s a shame, but I’d like to settle this with the next strike. What do you say?”

“Alright. Go ahead.”

“Hahaha! You’re unbelievable to the end!”

Lucian took a defensive stance. In battle, the attacker usually holds the initiative, but even so, he was yielding the first move.

‘Then I’ll live up to it.’

Hum.

The axe’s runes glowed intensely, surpassing even Harald’s prime.

And then—

BOOOOM!

A colossal explosion rocked the entire territory. Some spectators fell to the ground, covering their ears.

When the dust cleared, only one of the two was still holding their weapon.

Lucian.

Harald, now empty-handed, stood with his arm still extended.

Thud.

“…!?”

The axe had flown and embedded itself in the fortress wall.

With trembling hands, Harald sighed and shrugged.

“Well… losing this completely leaves me speechless.”

“Then, it’s my victory.”

“That’s right. It’s your victory.”

Smiling, Harald clasped his hands and bowed deeply. It wasn’t courtesy to a youth—it was respect to a worthy warrior.

“My apologies for my past disrespect. Harald Osgor greets again the heir of Grimaldi and warrior of the North.”

***

‘Impressive. Just how strong must he have been in his youth?’

Lucian massaged his aching wrist and clicked his tongue.

The boost in physical capabilities granted by the artifact was considerable, but the way Harald swung his axe—following perfect trajectories and distributing his power optimally—was pure skill.

He already possessed enormous strength, and by wielding it so precisely, his power reached a level that even surprised Lucian.

‘If it weren’t for the eye that awakened after drinking the nectar, I wouldn’t have been able to face him head-on; I would’ve had to dodge and keep moving. Good thing I prepared before coming here.’

Not long ago, Lucian had undergone countless training battles with Felicia.

Evasion techniques, counterattacks, and strikes to blind spots were all things he could perform with ease.

However, the North was a region that valued direct strength more than flashy techniques.

To truly be acknowledged, he needed to win in a head-on clash—power against power.

‘Even so, the effort was worth it.’

“….”

“….”

At some point, the spectators had fallen silent and were now just watching Lucian.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t accept the result or doubted the outcome—it was more that they didn’t know how to react to something so extraordinary.

Harald noticed it too and, smiling, patted Lucian on the shoulder.

“The duel’s over. Let’s go back and talk calmly. If we stay here, those people won’t move an inch.”

“Let’s do that. Excuse me—could you clear a path?”

“Y-yes!”

Urrr—

At Lucian’s voice, the townspeople quickly parted to both sides, opening an absurdly wide path.

Seeing how cautiously they moved, as if afraid to even step on his shadow, Lucian let out a short laugh.

‘I feel like a legendary hero.’

“Let’s go.”

Harald gave him a light push on the back and walked forward, as if inviting him to fully enjoy the respect he’d earned with his own hands in the North.

Lucian didn’t reject the gesture and followed him toward the lord’s manor.

While everyone watched their backs with admiration in their eyes, there was one person who couldn’t relax his expression.

‘This is bad.’

Palmir clenched his sweat-drenched fist tightly.

That a sixteen-year-old boy could be that monstrously strong was already a problem—but the bigger problem was his political instinct.

Those without the eye for such things would praise the duel as a simple clash between men.

But to Palmir, that strength-on-strength combat had been executed with meticulous calculation.

‘Everything was a blur, but he always moved a fraction of a second after Baron Harald to redirect the axe. Someone who can react perfectly even while moving late couldn’t possibly be incapable of dodging.’

Even so, Lucian had chosen to clash weapon against weapon, deliberately displaying his strength to everyone present.

That meant he knew exactly what the people of the North wanted to see—and what kind of battle captivated them.

And just as he thought, people all around were now looking at Lucian as he walked away—as if he were an idol.

‘If we leave things like this, he’ll become a massive threat to the Calix family. We need to cut this off before it grows.’

Of course, cutting it off didn’t mean killing him.

With Palmir’s own strength, trying to eliminate Lucian would only get him killed instead.

However, it was possible to bind him politically—not by force.

‘I must face him directly first. If I can speak to him about his rights, that alone will be half the victory.’

Unlike Dane, who had returned without managing to grasp even a single weak point, Palmir trusted in his own skill in negotiation.

And if necessary, he wouldn’t hesitate to use sophistry and outright lies.

No matter how sharp Lucian’s political instincts were, he still didn’t fully understand the intricacies of the North.

If Palmir could confuse him with false information, Lucian would be forced to stop and verify what was true and what wasn’t.

“Ahem, now that I think about it, we’ve visited the territory and haven’t even properly greeted the Baron.”

“Better late than never. While we’re at it, we could also greet young master Lucian.”

‘Damn it.’

Palmir scowled at the murmured excuses of the knights. The feudal knights, who had been feeling out the situation until now, seemed eager to side with Lucian.

“Out of my way!”

Ignoring the stares falling on him, Palmir rushed toward the inner fortress. He had to be the first to see Lucian and shake his composure.

If he could throw him off balance, impatience would follow—and that would only disappoint those who came after.

Thanks to his haste, Palmir reached the manor before the other knights. Just as he was relaying his request to meet Lucian, he heard the response.

“Oh, a knight of the Calix family? I’m sorry, but the young master has no business with you. Don’t waste your time here—go back peacefully.”

“…!?”

At the dismissal, spoken by a mere decurion who wasn’t even a knight, Palmir was left speechless, unable to react.