Chapter 212: Wildflowers (1)

Even though Yuri Briol had appeared out of nowhere, Leroy still held a sliver of hope.

The champion he had chosen was a Holy Knight considered the natural successor to the current Holy Knight. Despite his youth, he had taken part in numerous battles and was famed for never having lost a one-on-one duel.

Moreover, that day Yuri Briol was wielding an unfamiliar weapon.

“The blade is… curved?”

“I thought he always used that sword, Guilty, but today he came with a curved sword.”

“That blade… there’s something odd about it…”

He was dressed in training clothes, not even wearing armor, and held a long, slender curved sword.

Maybe, with a bit of luck, he could win. And even if he lost, he could at least say he’d put up a good fight.

That’s what Leroy thought. But it was all an illusion.

“One of the two must die, be incapacitated, or surrender for the duel to end. If anyone has any objections, raise your hand now. No? Very well, begin.”

As soon as the signal sounded, both moved at the same time in the duel arena.

For an instant, their figures blurred. The next moment, they had already passed each other.

At first, they seemed frozen, standing back to back as if nothing had happened. But after a brief silence, Leroy’s champion fell to his knees.

“Gh…”

His chestplate was crushed. There had been no real fight, but at least the outcome was clean.

It looked like the duel was over. Yuri Briol calmly turned around and spoke.

“Again.”

“What?”

“Try again.”

“Tch…”

Leroy’s champion pursed his lips and got back up.

“Fine.”

They watched each other carefully, as if replaying the previous clash.

A dry leaf floated down and landed on the ground. In that moment, a flash of light burst from their swords.

Again, they crossed paths.

“…”

They stayed still, back to back, just like before. The silence stretched, and this time, Yuri Briol’s body leaned forward ever so slightly.

Leroy’s champion straightened and smiled. And just then, his knees gave out.

“No…!”

He collapsed awkwardly to the ground. Lying on his back, he opened his eyes in disbelief.

“Why… was it me who fell…?”

Yuri Briol calmly approached and looked down at him with a smile.

“Again.”

Leroy’s champion scowled.

“Fine!”

He launched at him again—and fell once more.

“Again.”

“Damn it!”

The scene repeated itself.

“Again.”

“Gah!”

“Again.”

“Shit…!”

“Again.”

“Grr!”

Throughout the duel, Leroy’s champion fell and got back up countless times. His body was coated in dust, his armor dented all over.

Yuri Briol, on the other hand, remained untouched.

Not a single drop of sweat—as if he were just taking a walk.

“Again.”

Upon hearing Yuri Briol’s command, the champion charged once more. A flash of steel passed between them as they met again.

This time, they stood motionless longer than before. But the result was no different.

Leroy’s champion trembled a few times and fell flat on his face.

“Gh…”

Ashamed, he covered his eyes with his arm.

“Damn it…”

He muttered faintly, on the verge of tears.

Then—

“Hey.”

Yuri Briol walked over to him.

“That last strike wasn’t bad. I just realized—I don’t even know your name.”

The champion looked up. Through his blurry vision, he saw Yuri Briol’s face.

A thin trickle of blood ran down from a cut on Yuri’s cheek.

The swordsman who had been untouchable until now had finally received a small wound after so many attempts.

“Ah…”

Yuri smiled and held out his hand.

“What’s your name?”

The champion stared at his hand for a moment, then gave a faint laugh and wiped away his tears with his gauntlet. At last, he grasped Yuri’s hand.

“Bailey. My name is Bailey.”

“Bailey. I’ll remember that.”

“It’s an honor.”

Bailey stood with Yuri’s help.

“Huh…?”

Then, catching sight of Yuri’s sword, he flinched.

He already knew the weapon was curved. But upon closer inspection, he noticed something odd.

The cutting edge was on the upper side of the blade—not the edge as usual.

“An inverted blade?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m only just noticing…?”

Bailey flushed with embarrassment.

He had fought Yuri countless times that day and hadn’t noticed that the sharp edge was reversed.

That could only mean one thing—Yuri’s blade was so fast he couldn’t even see it clearly.

“So… you brought that sword on purpose…?”

“Exactly what you’re thinking.”

“I knew it…”

Bailey lowered his head.

He had come with the determination to kill. But his opponent, on the other hand, had taken precautions not to kill—even by accident.

“From the beginning… you had no intention of hurting me, did you?”

“Of course not. I didn’t come to kill today. I chose a blade that saves lives, not one that takes them. After all, this duel is also part of saving the Holy Kingdom.”

“So your purpose ran that deep…”

“Don’t forget this fight. What you learned today will protect you the day you set foot on the battlefield.”

“And me, not understanding anything…”

“Now you do. That’s enough.”

“Ugh…”

That day, Yuri wouldn’t stop telling Bailey to get up and attack again.

Bailey tried various styles and approaches, but each was dismantled effortlessly.

Through it all, Bailey came to understand the principles of the sword.

It was, essentially, a private lesson.

With deep reverence, Bailey bowed before Yuri, who smiled with the sword resting on his shoulder.

“Prince… truly, thank you!”

“Well done.”

“But, if I may…”

“Hmm?”

“That sword is inverted, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you carried it like that, without armor…”

“Hmm?”

Yuri looked at his own shoulder.

The inverted sword resting on it had caused blood to run down his arm.

Despite being reversed, the blade was absurdly sharp.

“B-Blood!”

“W-We need to stop the bleeding!”

“Ow, that stings!”

“Get a priest!”

There was a minor commotion, but in the end, the duel ended in a complete victory for Yuri Briol.

On Luther’s side, the mood was celebratory, while the faces of Leroy’s faction were utterly grim.

“This can’t be…”

“The gap was so massive…!”

“That useless Bailey…”

To the naked eye, the duel may have looked graceful. But in truth, it was a crushing defeat. And to top it off, it seemed they owed the opponent a favor.

Seeing Bailey bow repeatedly, moved by Yuri Briol, Leroy closed his eyes.

It had been, literally, a complete loss. His path to the throne ended so absurdly.

While he trembled with clenched fists, Luther approached him first.

“Leroy, brother.”

“Luther…”

“You lost, but you fought well.”

“Yes…”

Leroy clenched his fists tighter. Hearing that from the victor only made it more aggravating.

Luther continued.

“Don’t feel down. After all, your opponent was me.”

“I lost to Yuri Briol, not to you.”

“Him or me, same difference.”

“Him?”

“Yuri’s my friend now.”

“…”

“You know? A close friend. The kind that if someone touches me, they’ll stab them in the night without leaving a trace.”

Leroy let out a long sigh, catching the veiled threat.

“I see.”

Having lost the champion’s duel, there was no turning back. Leroy decided to accept the result with dignity and eliminate any chance of retaliation.

“Alright, Luther. I renounce my claim to succession and will support you.”

“Good choice.”

Luther patted him on the shoulder.

“Brother, let’s work together from now on.”

Leroy was a shrewd opportunist. If Luther took the lead in succession, he’d prefer to become an ally. Luther knew that well.

As if reading his mind, Leroy added:

“If anyone causes you trouble in the future, I’ll be the one to stop them. In return… you know I expect something in return, right?”

“Don’t worry.”

“We’re allies now.”

“That’s right.”

Luther didn’t care much for the throne or power, so he wasn’t concerned about the future.

If Leroy tried anything shady, that black-haired lunatic would handle it with his sword.

They both laughed heartily, each with their own thoughts.

“By the way, is your friend okay? He’s still bleeding from the shoulder.”

“Leave him.”

***

Cory picked up a newspaper discarded on the ground.

It said that Sybilla had died and that someone named Luther had become the new king of the Holy Kingdom.

“Ah…”

Reading that Sybilla had died, Cory let out a long sigh.

While he had been away, much had happened on the continent. He wanted to return to Yuri as soon as possible and help him.

But reality didn’t bend to his wishes.

“Hey, orc.”

When Cory turned his head, he saw several circus members standing there.

“An orc reading the paper? You think you’re smart just because you can read?”

“I’m not an orc. My name is Cory. And I’m not showing off. I was just reading a discarded newspaper.”

“Look who’s talking back now.”

Despite his appearance, Cory spoke fluently and was knowledgeable in many areas.

He even talked about Yuri Briol, famous across the continent. Though no one believed everything he said was true, it didn’t matter.

What drew attention was that this ugly, small orc hybrid could tell such interesting stories.

That’s why, whenever there was a show, Cory’s popularity increased. And that sparked jealousy from the other acrobats in the circus.

“Want us to rip out that smart mouth of yours?”

Several of them rolled up their sleeves and stepped forward.

Cory backed away and looked around, but only found a wall blocking his escape. Eventually, he was thrown to the ground and brutally beaten.

“Damn orc!”

“Disgusting bastard!”

“You should’ve never come!”

Hatred without reason rained down on Cory. Even as he curled up and bled, the kicks didn’t stop—if anything, they grew crueler.

“What if we rip his tongue out?”

Hearing that, Cory shook his head desperately.

“No, no…”

“What was that?”

One of them grabbed him by the hair.

“Damn freak…”

“Where are the pliers?”

“If we silence him, it’ll be funnier. The audience will enjoy it more.”

Those sold into circus slavery, condemned to misery, were consumed by malice and didn’t hesitate to torment others.

Then—

“What the hell are you doing?”

The circus director appeared, whip in hand.

“I told you not to cause trouble.”

Everyone froze in fear.

“We’re sorry!”

The director cracked his whip. At once, the circus members’ skin split where it struck.

In a panic, they all dropped to their knees.

“Cory.”

“Y-Yes…”

But even Cory was struck with the whip.

He screamed in pain.

“I-I was just getting hit! I didn’t do anything…!”

“And that’s the problem.”

The director looked at him coldly.

“They say even a worm squirms when stepped on. But don’t even do that. A dead worm gets stepped on by no one. It only dirties your shoes.”

With that icy gaze, the director turned and walked away. Tears welled in Cory’s eyes.

He quickly realized the promise of freedom from the circus with hard work had been a lie.

The circus contract was arbitrary. The more he earned, the more debt he accumulated.

They adjusted the interest as they pleased, trapping him forever. That was the human world.

Not much different from the orc’s.

Cory’s dream of living in harmony with humans was beginning to rot.

“Damn it…”

And that’s how he learned to curse.

He spat out the clot of blood in his mouth and stood. Under the hateful gazes of the others, he staggered away.

The circus quarters were no different from a livestock pen.

If he could use magic, he would’ve burned it all down.

Now, the only thing Cory desired was to break the chains that bound him.