At House Laurent's training hall, Ammdar stood before a practice dummy with a slender blade in hand, thrusting again and again. Sharp flashes of steel flickered through the air, and sweat beaded across his forehead.
A moment later, he heard footsteps and gradually stopped. When he turned toward the person approaching, a helpless look crossed his face, and he finally voiced what had been on his mind all along.
"They look down on other people, but they don't trust me either. And now things have ended up like this."
"People get older, and their courage gets smaller. They value honor more than life now, but they seem to have forgotten that honor isn't earned like this."
Fiora sat down in a nearby chair and said, "I went to watch this afternoon's duel."
Ammdar looked at her. "Is he strong?"
Fiora gave a small nod. "His sword intent is formidable."
"I see." Ammdar wiped the sweat from his brow and let out a breath. "Then he's an opponent worth facing with everything I have."
As he spoke, he raised his sword and struck at the dummy again.
At that moment, Fiora noticed something like resolve taking shape around him.
As she watched, her thoughts drifted back twelve years.
"This is way too hard. Why do grown-ups always like practicing this?"
She had thrown the long, heavy sword in her hand onto the floor and asked in confusion.
"Probably... because it looks cool!"
Ammdar had answered while striking a dramatic pose with his sword raised.
She had asked curiously, "What about you? Do you like practicing because it looks cool too?"
Ammdar had thought about it seriously. "That's only part of it. I like practicing because I decided a long time ago that this is what I would do. I'm going to restore House Laurent's glory!"
He had looked impossibly tall and heroic when he said it.
She replied, "I thought you were doing it to impress girls so you could kiss them."
Ammdar's face had gone dark, and he had quickly looked around. "Shh. Didn't you promise you wouldn't bring that up?"
She blinked and grinned. "There's no one around. What are you scared of?"
Ammdar had stared at her sternly. "Anyway, don't mention that again. Otherwise I'm not teaching you swordsmanship anymore."
"Tch." She had curled her lip. "It's not like I care about training."
"Fiora, once you decide on something, don't give up so easily." Ammdar had kept that same serious look on his face. "Otherwise, you'll never truly be able to defy them."
That sword had been very, very heavy.
But Fiora still picked it up again.
"Have you still been practicing lately?"
Ammdar's voice pulled Fiora out of her memories.
She nodded.
"I see. Come to think of it, it's been a long time since we crossed blades, hasn't it?"
Ammdar smiled as he looked at his now-grown younger sister. "When we both have time, I'll see whether you've gotten any stronger."
Fiora said, "I'll definitely surprise you."
"You've already surprised me plenty."
He wiped his sweat again, glanced at the sky outside, and walked toward the door. "It's getting late. Get some rest."
Fiora gave a soft "Mm."
Ammdar reached the doorway, then stopped. He turned back to look at her, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only smiled and walked out.
Once he stepped out of the training hall, his gaze became absolutely resolute.
Tomorrow's duel, he had to win.
Not only because he was now House Laurent's last hope.
More than that, if he couldn't keep winning, then he would never be able to stand before those people and even dream of changing his sister's fate.
Fiora watched his departing back, rose to her feet, and walked over to the weapon rack. She drew a slender blade from it and lowered her eyes to the steel, quietly studying it.
The next day, Quinn delivered a report.
"Your Highness, they went back to the same mountain woods again at one in the morning last night. Then around three, they entered a cave and didn't come out until about half an hour later. From what I could tell, none of the three seemed to be carrying anything extra when they came back out."
Quinn calmly recounted what she had seen while following them the night before.
Luke asked, "Did you go into the cave yourself?"
Quinn replied, "After they left, I went in to take a look. The space inside wasn't very big, and there was nothing there."
After hearing that, Luke fell silent in thought.
Based on Quinn's tracking over the last two days, it was now basically certain that Panis and her uncle were searching for something.
And from the look of things today, they seemed to have confirmed the location.
A cave that wasn't very big and apparently contained nothing, yet the three of them had stayed inside for half an hour before coming back out.
No matter how he looked at it, Luke could only come to one conclusion.
The cave almost certainly had something else hidden inside.
Panis had dropped by yesterday afternoon to hang out for a while, but she hadn't stayed long, nor had she acted strangely at all.
After thinking it over, Luke decided that since things had reached this point, he would go take a look himself tonight.
He was genuinely curious about the matter.
And today, there was another hot topic drawing discussion across the entire capital.
Hughes, the envoy from Skaggorn, was going to duel Ammdar, the eldest son of House Laurent and its next heir.
As a swordsman ranked on the Sword Hall list, Ammdar already had a certain degree of fame in the capital.
And within noble circles, he was even better known.
People called him the hope who would restore House Laurent's glory.
But in just the past two days, Hughes had defeated five challengers from House Laurent in a row, which had earned him a huge amount of attention in an incredibly short time and thrust him into the public eye.
That was one of Hughes's goals.
He wanted as many people as possible watching this duel.
That way, when he crushed the last shred of House Laurent's dignity underfoot, everyone would be there to witness it.
He had prepared for this day for many years.
So when he stood on the arena stage, he knew that the scene he had seen in his dreams countless times had finally become reality.
One in the afternoon.
Inside the sacred and impartial dueling arena.
The gray-white marble seats of the stands, which could hold several thousand spectators, were already completely full.
Those who had arrived late didn't care and simply stood around the outer edge, forming a living wall of bodies.
Higher up, the nobles had already taken their positions in seats with a better view.
Demacia had always loved this kind of duel, so a scene like this was only natural.
Today, even King Jarvan III had come in person and sat in the place of honor to witness this clash between one of his own nation's sword houses and one from beyond its borders.
That was the other layer of meaning behind this duel.
What House Laurent carried on its back wasn't only the honor of its own household. As a sword house with a long history, it stood for something much larger.
At that moment, all of that pressure had settled squarely on the young man slowly ascending the stage.
To prepare for today's duel, Ammdar had deliberately changed into the outfit he felt most comfortable in and trimmed his hair.
Not because he wanted a stylish cut, but because he didn't want anything unnecessary interfering with his vision.
The sword at his side had fought with him for over a decade, and even before stepping onto the stage, Ammdar had made sure every last detail of his preparation was complete.
Hughes stood across from him.
His gaze was colder than it had been at the banquet that night, openly predatory, as if he wanted to swallow him whole.
And the aura around him was different as well.
The sword intent gathering around his entire body was so intense that merely standing across from him, Ammdar could already feel the pressure.
He's strong.
Ammdar had known that at the banquet, but the thought still flashed through his mind again today.
"They're here, they're here! Looks like I got here at exactly the right time."
"The duel's about to start."
"I wonder who's going to win."
"Ammdar is House Laurent's heir. I think he must be fully confident about winning this."
"I wouldn't be so sure. That Hughes guy obviously came prepared before issuing the challenge."
"Come to think of it, what grudge is there between them?"
"Exactly. Why did he insist on challenging Ammdar in particular?"
The stands buzzed with excited discussion.
The noise drifted into Ammdar's ears. He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he opened them again, those voices were gone. His world contained only the opponent in front of him.
"You really are different from those useless fools from the last two days."
At that moment, Hughes raised the sword in his hand and smiled coldly. "At the very least, your bearing looks different."
Ammdar looked at him and said, "I wasn't the one who told my kinsmen to challenge you."
"It doesn't matter. What difference does that make? If they hadn't come looking for me, I would have gone looking for them sooner or later. You don't actually think you're the only one I came here to challenge, do you?" Hughes laughed casually, but his gaze turned even colder. "If you do, then you're wrong. What I intend to do... is grind the dignity of your entire House Laurent into dust beneath my heel."
Sensing the hatred surging from him, Ammdar said nothing. He only raised his sword and gave it two testing swings.
"I ought to thank you, really. You saved me a great deal of trouble." Hughes kept speaking, his tone dripping with contempt. "Though from what I've seen now, House Laurent doesn't have much dignity left anyway."
"To be honest, I'm deeply disappointed. I came here expecting to see a sword house at the peak of its strength. Instead I found nothing but a pack of drunken, worthless trash."
He clicked his tongue, looked Ammdar over, raised his sword, and gave it two light swings. "I hope you can change my mind."
"I will."
Ammdar's eyes were steady and serious.
Then they began to circle each other face to face, completing the ritual that preceded the beginning of the duel.
As the ritual went on, the murmuring in the stands gradually died down. No one wanted to interfere with the duelists on the stage.
Not far from the arena, the members of House Laurent sat together, their eyes fixed on the platform.
The arena was packed to the brim. It wasn't that House Laurent had never seen a scene like this before, it was just that they had rarely experienced one firsthand in recent years.
Sébastien watched the stage calmly, his gaze resting on the determined look on Ammdar's face.
He held his wife's hand, quietly comforting her.
No matter whether Ammdar won or lost this duel, he would always support his son's decision.
"It's about to start."
On the other side of the stands, Lux poked Luke in the side while he rested with his eyes closed.
Luke jolted all over, opened his eyes, and glared at her. "Can you not wake me up like a normal person?"
Lux answered, "No."
Luke felt that was a pretty flawless answer, so he turned his attention toward the stage.
As the final steps of the pre-duel ritual concluded, the two men returned to their starting positions, their auras somehow even sharper than before.
Both of them had prepared thoroughly for this duel.
And Hughes had spent more than ten years preparing for this day.
He had worked for so long for one purpose alone, today.
Before all the people of the capital, he would shatter House Laurent.
In the next instant, Hughes exploded forward. In the blink of an eye he was already in front of Ammdar, and the sword in his hand came down even faster than he had moved.
So fast!
Ammdar's expression did not change. He slipped aside and answered with a thrust of his rapier, calm and disciplined as he began his counterattack.
The flashes of steel in midair seemed to proclaim his determination to win.
Even his opponent could feel that intent.
But when it came to the will to win, how could Hughes, who had prepared for this moment for more than a decade, be any weaker?
The instant the duel began, both men fought with everything they had.
Hughes wanted to defeat Ammdar as quickly as possible, to crush his dignity in a single blow.
Ammdar wanted to prove to the world that he would restore House Laurent's glory, beginning with victory in this duel.
At that moment, the convictions of both men clashed through furious swordplay.
On the arena stage, flashing steel crossed like lightning, even throwing off sparks from time to time.
Both duelists fought without holding anything back, each intent on defeating the other.
Every eye in the crowd was locked onto the platform, watching the battle unfold with the speed of a thunderbolt.
Feeling the sword intent surging from Ammdar, Hughes swung his blade and said, "Looks like you really are different from the trash from the last two days. So this is House Laurent's swordsmanship?"
"That's right, I..."
Ammdar's eyes were serious, but before he could finish speaking, a flash of steel suddenly cut across his vision. There was a tearing sound, and a sword wound instantly opened along his arm, sending blood spraying out.
That single strike sent a brief surge of uproar through the stands.
This duel, which had looked evenly matched, had finally tipped.
The members of House Laurent all sprang to their feet, staring at the stage.
Fiora watched from below without even realizing she had clenched her fists tight.
"Looks like that's all you amount to."
Contempt rose across Hughes's face.
Ammdar retreated several steps and glanced at the wound, his expression turning grave.
In his eyes, the stronger sword intent pressing down from Hughes grew even more oppressive.
That sword intent was making him stronger.
Ammdar had already realized that during the fight.
I can't drag this out any longer. I have to end it fast!
The thought struck him, and after exhaling sharply, he lunged forward with explosive force and drove his blade out.
A white gleam flashed through the air as his full-power thrust shot toward Hughes with incredible speed.
Hughes looked at that strike and swung his own weapon.
With a loud clang, the two blades collided, but it was Ammdar's all-out attack that got knocked aside.
The shock in his eyes could no longer be suppressed.
"So you've noticed." Hughes looked at him and rushed forward. "You are not my opponent."
His blade slashed out, forcing Ammdar to retreat again and again.
In that instant, the balance that had defined the duel no longer existed.
Ammdar gave everything he had just to block the other man's attacks, but before long his right shoulder, cheek, and thigh were all marked by sword wounds of varying depth.
If he had not dodged some of those attacks with all his strength, he would have died on the spot.
Ammdar gritted his teeth. He had no intention of giving up.
As long as he wasn't dead, the fight could still turn!
He thrust his rapier again, its speed magnified by sword intent, but this time the blade froze stiff in midair.
Ammdar stared at the sword suspended before his throat, unable to move it forward even another inch.
The tip of that blade had already drawn a single bead of blood from his neck.
"You can keep moving forward. I might lose an arm."
Hughes looked at Ammdar with a cold smile, his long blade held perfectly steady in the air.
He only needed to push forward a little more, and the man before him would die.
In this duel, he was allowed to do that.
Even if he killed him here, there would be no consequences waiting for him.
But he didn't want to.
Hughes withdrew his sword and looked down at Ammdar, who collapsed weakly to his knees before him.
"Compared to those other fools from the last two days, you're just a slightly more impressive-looking fool. Your sword is so weak it makes me want to laugh. Why aren't you thanking me for granting you the right to live?"
He was not going to kill him.
He wanted him to live the rest of his life under the weight of today's humiliation.
Ammdar's clothes were soaked scarlet with blood. He knelt there, crushed by the blow, and in the face of this humiliation, all the unwillingness in his heart felt pitifully powerless.
He had lost.
That was what duel challenges were, wasn't it?
Only one person got to remain standing on the stage.
He had thought about the possibility of losing.
But he had never imagined losing in a way so stripped of dignity.
He hadn't even managed to leave a single wound on his opponent.
If he could have chosen, he would rather that last strike had gone through.
At least then, he could have closed his eyes with some measure of grace.
At that moment, he didn't dare lift his head. His figure seemed drowned beneath the roaring noise of the crowd.
"Ammdar actually lost?"
"I never thought Hughes would be the one to win."
"This..."
"But Hughes really does seem incredibly strong."
"So that's House Laurent's heir? What a joke."
"He lost so badly too. Damn."
The voices from the stands kept pouring in. Whether noble or commoner, many could hardly believe Ammdar had lost.
But the fact was right there in front of them.
The one left standing on the stage was that foreign man who had come for revenge.
Some of the nobles even wore amused expressions as they looked toward House Laurent below the stage.
Seeing those faces filled with disbelief, they could barely keep from laughing.
Your only heir, your only hope, has lost now too.
What do you have left to show anyone now?
At that moment, many members of House Laurent had gone pale. They looked at Ammdar collapsed on the stage, and in the end, helplessness crept into their expressions.
They had watched the entire battle unfold with their own eyes.
So they did not blame Ammdar for being weak.
The opponent who had come prepared was simply too strong.
He knew House Laurent's swordsmanship far too well. His preparations had been too thorough.
But that only meant that from this day onward, House Laurent might never be able to hold its head up again.
What had all their efforts been for?
In that moment, every member of House Laurent lowered their head.
"Do you see this? The capital that year looked exactly like this. My father knelt before your father just like you're kneeling now!"
A delighted smile curled across Hughes's lips, and excitement gleamed in his eyes as he looked around at the crowd.
Ammdar couldn't make a sound. His clenched hand loosened weakly.
Sébastien stepped onto the stage and helped him up.
Hughes looked at him and said coldly, "I did it. The humiliation you forced on my father back then, I've paid it back to all of you. But... this isn't enough. This is only the beginning. From here on, I'll return all of it to you twice over."
Sébastien only looked at him calmly. Without saying a word, he supported Ammdar and turned to leave the stage.
And before the entire crowd, Hughes raised his thumb in the direction of House Laurent, then slowly turned it down.
A mocking, contemptuous smile curved at the corner of his mouth.
Countless voices flooded Ammdar's ears.
His mind had been pushed almost to the brink of collapse, and suddenly he could no longer understand what meaning all those years of practicing the sword had ever held.
Was it all for this day, so he could be humiliated in front of everyone?
So in the eyes of others, his vow to restore House Laurent's glory had always been nothing more than a joke.
The light in his eyes dimmed.
"Didn't you say it yourself? Don't give up so easily."
A voice rang out.
Ammdar stared blankly at the figure walking past him.
Sébastien's body also stiffened in that same instant.
The stands erupted once more into a boiling frenzy of discussion.
Even House Laurent's people could hardly stay seated.
"What is she doing up there?"
"Hasn't this family embarrassed itself enough already?"
"That girl!"
"Elma, make her come back!"
One gaze after another fixed on the stage.
Hughes looked at the figure across from him and smiled with interest. "Oh? Has House Laurent become so useless that it now needs a woman to recover its honor?"
"I, Fiora Laurent, hereby challenge you to a duel."
Fiora ignored the remark and leveled the rapier in her hand at Hughes.
"Hahaha! Interesting, very interesting!"
Hughes fought back the urge to laugh out loud and looked her over with the same sort of gaze Fiora had seen countless times before. "My lady, I acknowledge your beauty. But this is no joke. You should stop treating duels like one."
Then his gaze turned cold. "You should understand, my malice toward House Laurent is not limited to its men."
"I'm serious." Fiora looked at Hughes calmly. "Life and death are both on the table. You can refuse."
"I have no reason to refuse a challenge from anyone in House Laurent."
Hughes flicked his sword, snapping the blood off the blade. Then he looked at Fiora. "Since you had the courage to step onto this stage, that means you've already made your preparations, doesn't it?"
Fiora did not answer him directly. Her gaze swept slowly over the surroundings.
She looked at the countless spectators whispering among themselves, at the nobles in attendance, at the confused members of House Laurent.
Then she murmured, "Yes. I'm ready."
Hughes thought she was answering his question, so he said, "Good. I accept your challenge."
Below the stage, the members of House Laurent looked utterly baffled.
"Has that girl lost her mind? She's actually issuing a challenge?"
"Who told her she could do something this reckless?"
"Honestly, wasn't this family humiliated enough already?"
"How could she possibly be his opponent?"
"Elma, make your daughter come back!"
Several elders and family members spoke over one another as they all looked toward Elma, or toward the stage, wanting Fiora to return from the platform she had climbed on by herself.
The First Elder barked, "Elma, what are you standing there for?"
Elma was silent for a long time. Then, suddenly, she spoke.
"No."
The First Elder froze. "What did you say?"
"If that girl has made her decision, then we have no right to interfere anymore." Elma lifted her head and met the First Elder's eyes directly. "And I don't want to interfere anymore."
"You've gone crazy too, have you? How could she possibly be someone else's match?"
The First Elder looked at her as if she were completely unreasonable, then turned to Sébastien. "Make your daughter come back!"
At that, Sébastien looked up at the stage, but what came to mind instead were all the countless days and nights he had spent secretly watching his daughter practice with the sword in silence.
Then he said, "I support her."
The First Elder froze again. So did the other family members.
They all wanted to say that this husband and wife pair had clearly both lost their minds.
But as they looked at the stage and saw that Fiora's challenge had already been accepted, all they could do was sink back into their seats in helplessness.
Everything had descended into chaos.
Why was a woman of House Laurent standing on that stage?
How long had it been since they had ever allowed a woman to appear like this?
Long enough that the elders could no longer even remember.
The spectators were equally excited, and not only because Fiora on the stage was breathtakingly beautiful.
It was because this wasn't over yet.
They were about to witness a woman challenge a man to a duel.
"That's House Laurent's young lady, right?"
"She's unbelievably beautiful."
"Why would she dare challenge Hughes?"
"Is she trying to avenge her brother Ammdar?"
"How come I've never heard of her before? Is she really strong?"
"How strong can a woman be?"
"Wait... why does she look familiar somehow?"
Among the crowd, a broad-shouldered man in a bear mask wore a thoughtful expression, as though he were searching his memory.
Elsewhere, when Lux saw Fiora standing on the stage, she became fully animated.
She sprang to her feet without the slightest concern for noble decorum, waved both hands, and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Fiora! Go! Fiora! Go!"
She looked like a one-woman cheering squad, shouting with all the energy she had.
Then Poppy joined in too. Standing on her hammer so she could see farther, she shouted just as enthusiastically.
"Can you settle down a little? Aren't you embarrassed?"
Sitting beside them, Luke gave Lux a disgusted look, then stood up too, waved his hand, and shouted, "Fiora! Go!"
Kahina looked at them helplessly, then stood as well and joined the cheering.
The surrounding spectators quickly moved a little farther away from them.
On the stage, Fiora seemed to sense something. She lifted her gaze and looked in one direction.
When she saw Luke and the others waving and shouting for her, a hint of a smile flashed through her eyes.
"Are you ready, my lady?"
Hughes looked at Fiora across from him. After thinking for a long while, he still chose not to say anything mocking.
Fiora looked down at the rapier in her hand and said suddenly, "I've sharpened this sword for twelve years."
For some reason, Hughes understood exactly what she meant. He chuckled. "Funny. I've sharpened the sword in my hand for fifteen years too, all for this day."
"Then it's time to say goodbye to the past."
Fiora shifted her gaze to her opponent, gave the rapier two light flourishes in the air, and then set it before her.
Her posture was elegant and unhurried, and paired with that breathtaking face, it left no small number of people staring in a daze.
Even Hughes had to admit that her beauty, proud and untouched like a snow lotus blooming above the world, was something rare indeed.
Watching the practiced way she held her blade, the members of House Laurent immediately understood one thing.
She had absolutely been practicing swordsmanship in secret.
But now that she was already standing on the stage, there was nothing left for them to say.
Under the rules of a duel challenge, once both parties agreed, no one could stop it.
Ammdar stared blankly at the stage, at the young woman standing there with her blade in hand, and fell into a daze.
And when Hughes met the cool, detached gaze in the duelist's eyes, that calm and unshakable composure, the hairs all over his body suddenly stood on end.
In the next instant, his expression turned serious.
Very few people had ever given him that kind of feeling.
Just one look from her was enough for Hughes to realize that the pressure this woman radiated far exceeded what Ammdar ever had.
"Did you come to avenge Ammdar?"
Hughes spoke, trying to ease the tension by making conversation.
He couldn't understand why a woman could make him feel so oppressed before the fight had even begun.
That was not normal.
"You could say that," Fiora answered blandly. "But more than that, I'm here for myself. I want certain blind old men to see whether my sword is somehow any weaker than anyone else's."
Hughes understood at once. "So I'm supposed to be your stepping stone?"
"If you want to see it that way."
Fiora did not deny it.
"Then come and find out whether you can really bite through a stone as hard as me."
Her attitude irritated Hughes. She seemed even more arrogant than he was, and he could not allow such a thing.
The sword intent from his duel with Ammdar was still gathered inside him and had not yet dissipated.
Maybe she didn't understand that the opponent in front of her was even stronger now than the one Ammdar had faced.
But that didn't matter.
Man or woman, he would defeat them without mercy. He would make every member of House Laurent suffer humiliation.
Fiora listened to him, and a faint smile curled at the corner of her lips. She did not bother saying the harsher truth out loud.
Because in her eyes, he didn't really qualify as a hard stone.
Then, according to the ritual of the duel, they began circling each other.
Fiora's movements were practiced, professional, and polished, as though she had trained them for years.
And when the two of them returned to their starting positions, it meant the battle had begun.
"I..."
Hughes opened his mouth to say something, then suddenly stopped.
His heart tightened, and that same sensation of every hair on his body standing on end returned again.
In the next instant, the sword intent that erupted from her sent such a shock through him that he had no time left to speak. He lunged forward at once.
Below the stage, every member of House Laurent rose to their feet, staring at the platform in utter disbelief.
Hughes's long blade slashed without hesitation for Fiora's heart, tracing a cold arc of steel through the air with blistering speed.
"That is the only strike you will ever get to launch at me."
Fiora calmly shifted to the side and lightly lifted the rapier in her hand.
Hughes instantly felt enormous danger. Acting on pure instinct, he hauled his blade back to defend.
That one desperate motion barely protected his vital point. His eyes widened, trying to follow her movement.
Too fast. When had that strike been made?
The question had only just formed when the next streak of pale steel flashing toward him forced him to confront something else entirely.
He unleashed all the sword intent in his body, trying to use it to resist Fiora's sword intent.
Yet in a single instant, all of his sword intent was swallowed whole.
Then that overwhelming pressure wrapped around him and left him feeling almost suffocated, as if blades were pressing in against his body from every direction.
He looked into her cold eyes, where a sharp glint flashed, and the shock in his own eyes became impossible to suppress.
Perfected sword intent!?
He retreated while blocking, unable to fathom how he had run into a monster who had mastered perfected sword intent.
And she was still so young.
A series of sharp swishes split the air, cold flashes of steel blooming like sword flowers, so fast they seemed to leave only afterimages behind.
And in that single burst of time, Hughes realized that two fresh wounds had already appeared on his body.
Fiora stepped forward once, and the pressure created by that powerful Peerless Sword Intent surged over Hughes like a wave swallowing him whole.
She merely lifted her hand lightly, and several more cold flashes streaked through the air.
Hughes was driven backward again and again, unable to find the slightest chance to counterattack, while several more wounds opened across his body.
Then, very quickly, he realized something that sent a spark of fear through him.
The places where those wounds had opened on his body were exactly the same places where he had wounded Ammdar just moments earlier.
The instant that realization struck, his whole spirit shuddered, as if he had been enclosed within the reach of her sword intent.
Looking at Fiora standing across from him with her blade in hand, he felt as though she had seen straight through all of him.
The rapier in Fiora's hand seemed to blaze with dazzling white light.
Hughes's brain raced wildly. From what angle would her next thrust come?
A wet stab answered him.
Pain exploded through his shoulder, and when his mind snapped back, Fiora was no longer in front of him.
A sense of disaster struck at once. He spun around, only to find a slender blade already resting against his throat, a single drop of red blood welling there.
If he moved one more step, he would die on the spot.
Even though the sword had not yet driven through, Hughes already felt as though he had been pierced.
"By the time you start thinking about that, my sword has already finished."
Fiora looked at Hughes calmly as he stared at her in utter disbelief.
The same scene.
The same tableau.
Only the people had changed.
At that moment, even the stands fell silent.
The battle was over?
Below the stage, every member of House Laurent stood frozen, their expressions blank.
Ammdar looked at Fiora holding her sword on the platform, and in his eyes, where the light had nearly gone out, a flame suddenly rose again.
He remembered the stubborn little girl from years ago, the one who had insisted on learning the sword from him.
And now that girl stood proudly on the stage, her posture beautiful beyond words.
Wasn't this the meaning of his own sword practice?
And in that same instant, the stands erupted.
"She actually won?!"
"Miss Laurent is incredible!"
"That sword was so fast, so beautiful!"
"Did that duel even last a full minute?"
"Honestly, that was the most astonishing duel I've ever seen."
"Elegant, unbelievably elegant!"
"It felt like she won so easily!"
"Hughes lost that fast?"
Voices filled the air from every direction, all of them still carrying shock.
Just as no one had believed Ammdar would lose, no one had imagined Hughes would be defeated like this either.
And it had happened far too quickly. A full minute might not even have passed since the duel began.
The incomparable elegance and strength Fiora had displayed on the stage seared themselves into the minds of everyone in the audience in a single instant.
Among the nobles, as they looked at the gallant young duelist on the stage, sword in hand, many of them were reminded of Sébastien in his prime, one man and one blade.
No, the shock that this duelist inspired in them now was even greater than what Sébastien had inspired back then.
Her swordsmanship looked more dazzling, more beautiful, more lethal, and more powerful.
What in the world...
A second ago, they had all thought House Laurent was finished.
So how had a Fiora suddenly appeared out of nowhere?
Had this been the family's hidden trump card all along?
But it didn't take long for the nobles to notice that many of House Laurent's own people looked just as lost as everyone else, which meant they hadn't known either.
Today had really been something to see.
"Did you see that? That was amazing!"
In the stands, Lux grabbed at Luke's sleeve excitedly, so worked up that it was almost as if she herself had been the one standing on the stage.
"I'm not blind. I saw it," Luke said, looking at her in exasperation, though his own eyes remained fixed on the platform.
As he looked at Fiora standing there with her sword, he thought to himself.
When exactly had this duelist quietly gone and mastered perfected sword intent?
A perfected Peerless Sword Intent, that was a complete qualitative leap.
On the stage.
"You spared his life, so I'll spare yours."
After saying that, Fiora withdrew her rapier.
Hughes collapsed to the floor with a thud, gasping for air, feeling as though he had only just gotten his life back. He stared at Fiora in front of him, still unable to believe it.
"Are you really... a member of House Laurent?"
Why?
The House Laurent swordsmanship he had felt while crossing blades with this young duelist was completely different from what he had known.
So this was what House Laurent's true swordsmanship looked like?
Dazzling, graceful, powerful.
As the one who had experienced it firsthand, he had never seen technique like this before.
"Fiora Laurent."
Fiora repeated her name once more, then gave an elegant bow and turned to walk off the stage.
She headed toward House Laurent's section.
Elma rushed up at once and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You little brat, you scared me half to death."
Even though she had said what she said earlier, her heart was still trembling even now.
Feeling her mother's concern, Fiora's lips curved into a smile.
Ammdar, whose wounds had not even been fully bandaged yet, looked at her and said, "You really did surprise me."
Fiora smiled. "Then I guess I accomplished what I wanted."
She glanced at her brother, then at her father.
Sébastien's gaze rested on her gently, warm and full of fatherly affection.
Fiora knew that all these years, her father had in fact been silently giving to her from the shadows.
He had known a long time ago that she had been secretly practicing with the sword.
But he had never stopped her, nor said a word.
At that moment, the First Elder stepped forward and couldn't help asking, "What you used just now... was that perfected sword intent?"
"Yes."
Fiora answered briefly.
"Oh..." The First Elder nodded blankly, forgetting what he had even intended to ask next.
The Second Elder stepped up. "When did you start practicing with the sword?"
Fiora replied once more, "When I was little. I never stopped."
"This..." The Second Elder thought for a moment, then slapped his thigh. "Good! Very good! I knew from the time you were a little girl that you'd amount to something. The reason we didn't let you train back then was to temper your will."
The Third Elder hurried over. "Yes, yes. I hope you won't take that to heart."
"I absolutely do take it to heart," Fiora said with a soft laugh, speaking with total honesty.
If she hadn't revealed her strength today, she never would have known these elders were capable of wearing two completely different faces.
Her blunt answer left the three elders looking awkward and speechless.
But the awkwardness was quickly washed away by the other family members crowding forward, surrounding Fiora with a flood of questions.
"I'm tired. Goodbye."
Fiora ignored every last one of them and walked out of the crowd with chilly pride.
And yet the aloofness she carried now left the family members behind her exchanging helpless looks, unable to bring themselves to complain.
Still, their mood at the moment was certainly a good one.
Who could have guessed that the final remnant of House Laurent's dignity would be recovered by a girl?
The moment they thought back to how convinced they had all once been that Fiora practicing the sword was a bad idea, shame washed over them.
I really should be ashamed of myself.
Perfected sword intent. Looking across the entire history of House Laurent, how many people had ever managed to reach that level?
And how old was Fiora?
Not even twenty.
Nineteen years old, and already at perfected sword intent.
Good lord.
Were they all blind back then? How had they missed a treasure like this?
The three elders sat in a row, staring down at the ground in silence, each of them suddenly gripped by the urge to slap himself across the face.
"Second Brother, tell me, are we getting old?"
"Yeah. Feels like the times have passed us by."
"How about this, maybe we should interfere less in family matters from now on?"
"I think so too. This time really taught me a painful lesson. If it weren't for this girl, House Laurent probably wouldn't be able to lift its head again."
"I think we should help arrange her marriage before we retire, though."
"That's true. A girl this exceptional ought to be matched with an even more exceptional young man, shouldn't she?"
The three old men traded one line after another, seriously discussing the matter.
Meanwhile, on the stage, Hughes got to his feet without anyone helping him and walked down alone.
Just a few minutes earlier he had been the center of attention.
Now he had already been completely forgotten.
He had prepared for revenge for so long, only to discover that on this day, he had instead become the stepping stone that elevated someone else.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
That one minute on the stage, which had felt like the end of the world, had made the gap between them painfully clear.
He silently clenched his fists, bitterness burning in his eyes. Was he really supposed to just give up on avenging his father?
At one of the exits leading out of the dueling grounds, the envoy from Skaggorn was waiting.
Looking at Hughes as he emerged with a hand over his wound and a dark expression on his face, the envoy said, "You issued this duel challenge on your own and stirred up a commotion this large. When you return home, there will be punishment."
"Whatever."
Hughes walked past him coldly.
The envoy watched him pass, thought for a moment, and then said, "Your obsession clearly runs deep. But I think there's something you ought to know."
Hughes stopped and stood with his back to the man, waiting for him to continue.
"Back then, you only saw Sébastien humiliate your father after the duel. But do you know why he did it?"
The envoy spoke slowly.
Hughes turned around and stared at him.
Meeting his eyes, the envoy said, "Because your father humiliated his wife first."
That one sentence struck Hughes like a bolt of lightning. He froze where he stood and said in disbelief, "What did you just say?"
"At the welcoming banquet, Sébastien was the one responsible for receiving Skaggorn's delegation. Your father, serving as the lead representative, drank several bottles of wine and then verbally insulted Sébastien's wife. He even tried to put his hands on her."
"That's what led to the challenge afterward. When your father returned home, he felt too ashamed to continue in his post and resigned of his own accord. At the time, for the sake of preserving Skaggorn's dignity, it was publicly said that he had issued the challenge out of admiration."
The envoy calmly laid bare the truth of what had happened back then.
When Hughes heard it all, he stood there in total shock. It was as if the entire foundation of his life had collapsed in that moment.
If that was the truth, then wasn't his revenge unbelievably ridiculous?
"If I had known you would come to Demacia and do all this, I would never have brought you here."
The envoy looked at Hughes's stunned expression and sighed. "You need to let go of the past. I don't want to see a talented swordsman continue to be blinded by hatred that was built on a false premise. I would have told you this no matter whether you won or lost today. I only waited until now so I wouldn't affect your state of mind."
"You need to find a new direction for yourself."
Hughes listened to it all in a daze.
Suddenly he felt as though his whole life had been one giant joke.
He had spent fifteen years sharpening the wrong sword.
Then he remembered everything he had said earlier.
Damn, that was embarrassing.
He needed to go home.
Immediately.
He didn't want to stay in Demacia for even one more second.
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