Chapter 54
Having stepped away from her quarters into the wide clearing, the Black Swan, Estia Herno, gazed at the junior before her—one from a far younger generation.
“There’s not a single opening.”
She wondered what she had been like at that age.
Probably right before stepping into the realm of a Master.
An absurd level of talent, to be sure. But compared to the young man standing before her, she fell short.
“Guess I’ll try going head-to-head first.”
By the time one reached the rank of Master, it was rare to find someone with any real gaps in their form.
And even if there were, most of them turned out to be traps.
So, if there are no openings to exploit—just make one mid-fight.
With that in mind, the Black Swan cloaked her sword in aura and charged toward Xian.
“Huh?”
Clang.
With an oddly disappointing sound, her sword—still wrapped in aura—was cleanly severed.
“What the…”
And it wasn’t even a full-powered strike.
Just a light exchange of blows, and her blade was sliced in half?
“If that had been a serious hit, I’d be dead right now.”
“Do you concede defeat?” Xian asked.
“No, not yet. Nellia!”
One of the Black Swan’s disciples tossed her a sword.
It was an exact replica of the one that had just been broken—well-crafted, but far from some legendary blade.
Catching it midair, the Black Swan aimed once more at Xian.
“Let’s go again.”
“Please try not to die.”
“Oh, I’ll try.”
With that, the Black Swan charged once more.
I can’t face him head-on.
Much like the Sword Wave she’d once encountered before challenging Duke Fael, the Hero’s blade wasn’t something you could clash with directly and expect to come out unscathed.
Of course, the Sword Wave was a desperate, all-or-nothing blow fueled by pure aura, while the Hero’s sword had been swung effortlessly—but the principle was the same.
Right before their blades met, the Black Swan’s figure vanished, as if scattered into smoke.
The Hero’s sword cut clean through empty air—only for the Black Swan’s blades to strike from all directions.
In response, Xian unleashed a surge of aura that exploded outward from his body, dispersing every one of the Black Swan’s forms.
“An illusion?”
“That’s right,” she replied, reappearing in front of him.
“You didn’t hear about this from Ron ?”
“Ron?”
“Duke Fael. Ron Fael.”
“Oh, I haven’t spoken to Duke Fael much. So, no—I didn’t hear.”
“Huh… And those pitch-black guys didn’t tell you either?”
Although she and her disciples also wore black, the Black Swan referred to the Royal Black Knights as “those pitch-black guys.”
“No, they didn’t.”
The fact that the Black Swan’s sword held illusions was an open secret. She had assumed Xian would know. But given the strained relationship between him and the Royal Black Knights, it hadn’t been passed along.
“Really? That’s surprising. I thought for sure you’d know.”
Guess I showed my hand too early, she muttered, before lunging toward the Hero again.
This time, her form didn’t vanish, but her every move was layered with deception.
Her blade appeared shorter or longer than it really was; her steps seemed to move forward or backward deceptively; she feinted a slash from the right only to strike from the left.
Xian’s sword sliced through air more than once, yet even in those moments, he left no openings.
His swordsmanship, honed through countless chaotic battles against the Demon King’s forces and constant one-against-many fights, had made him nearly impenetrable.
If he swung with full force, Xian was confident he could cut down the Black Swan and all her illusions in one go—but he neither wanted to kill her, nor was it a situation where he could.
So he held back his aura and fought with restraint.
As the battle dragged on, the frequency of his missed strikes decreased, while the number of wounds on the Black Swan grew.
At one point, her form split into twenty distinct figures, all converging on the Hero at once. The moment he released another burst of aura, blades came flying from both the front and back.
All of her illusions were capable of physical attacks—but the strength between the real sword and the illusions was vastly different. Xian instantly knew the real one was coming from the front.
Twisting his body, he blocked the rear strike with his armor and swung his blade forward.
Even though the frontal attack was layered with more trickery, Xian’s sword accurately cut through the Black Swan’s blade.
Clang.
That dull, hollow sound rang out again, and the Black Swan’s sword shattered.
“…I’ve lost.”
“Well fought,” Xian replied.
In the end, the Black Swan was no match for the Hero.
—————————————————————————
“Sir Hero?”
“Yes.”
After their bout had ended, the Black Swan once again guided Xian back to her quarters.
“You said you fought too, right?”
This time, it was a name Xian recognized.
Kraus Anon the Lion King of Anon.
He had once visited Anon during the war against the Demon King’s forces, and a deep involvement back then had made the name stick in his memory.
As for Duke Fael... well, no one ever called him by name, so he hadn’t connected the dots.
“I did.”
“And you beat him?”
“Yes.”
“… Tch, this might be a petty question, but—between me and Kraus, who’s stronger?”
Back in their younger days, the Black Swan, Duke Fael, and the Lion King had all been considered equals in skill.
As the years passed, however, the continent came to hail Duke Fael as the greatest swordsman alive. And when she challenged him not long ago, the gap between them had become painfully clear.
“… I’m sorry.”
“Oh, so Kraus is stronger?”
She had secretly hoped she was still stronger than Kraus. Apparently not.
“Sigh… Did the Emperor really tell me to teach kids at the Academy?”
“Yes.”
“He said it would be the largest institution of its kind in history. That mean Kraus’s brat is going too?”
“… Most likely.”
“And my disciples can enroll as well?”
“Of course.”
“I assume we’ll be getting proper support?”
“His Majesty never neglects talent. Take me, for example. Until recently, I was a Duke, and I still hold the title of Marquis.”
“Huh. That’s true. Oh, right—you’re a Marquis? The letter I got earlier addressed you as Marquis. I thought I’d heard you were promoted to Duke?”
“Well… there’s a bit of a story behind that.”
“Now I’m curious. Why don’t you tell me? Looks like we’ll be breaking bread together soon anyway.”
A clear sign she intended to accept the offer.
“Your Majesty the Emperor.”
“Have you made your decision?”
After concluding discussions with the regional lords, I once again stood face-to-face with Duke Brit Verde of Haeon.
“If I accept Your Majesty’s offer… what will happen to His Majesty, my liege?”
“So long as he harbors no rebellious thoughts, he will be allowed a peaceful life.”
“…”
Duke Verde clearly believed the King of Haeon would never willingly give up his throne.
“Guarantee His Majesty’s life. If you do that, I will serve Your Majesty.”
“You seek to negotiate with me?”
You, of all people?
That was the unspoken challenge—but Duke Verde held my gaze, unwavering.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Taking my life would be easy for you. But if you kill my king, you will never have my loyalty.”
“… Very well. You are far too capable to be wasted in the service of Haeon’s king.”
Deposing a king who refused to abdicate, then letting him live? Not ideal—but a price worth paying for the loyalty of such a talented man.
“In my name, I promise—the King of Haeon will live. But he will no longer be your sovereign.”
“… I, Brit Verde, pledge my loyalty to Your Majesty, the Emperor.”
“I hereby grant you the rank of Count within the Empire. I will also provide military support—seize control of Haeon. How many troops will you need?”
“… None, Your Majesty.”
The old knight, Haeon’s sole Master, declared with calm resolve.
“If it must be done, I will handle it with my own hands.”
“If that’s your will—so be it.”
“Attention! Salute to the Duke!”
Upon returning to Haeon and entering the capital, the guards stationed at the gates greeted him with a sharp salute.
Such respect for the Duke was nothing unusual in Haeon, but today, the gesture unsettled him.
“… As you were.”
Instead of heading to the royal palace, the Duke went straight to his estate.
He sent word to the palace that he was too fatigued from the journey and would report in tomorrow. No one dared complain.
Once home, he immediately summoned his retainers.
It was hardly the action of a weary man, but rather than question it, the retainers obeyed without hesitation.
“Is everyone here?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I’ll get straight to the point. I—Verde—now serve the Emperor of the Empire. I will take the throne and rule this land.”
“… I beg your pardon?”
“… You’re saying you’ll start a rebellion?”
“Your Grace? What are you saying?”
A longtime retainer of House Verde looked stunned, but the Duke offered no further explanation.
“I will not hear objections. Tonight, we seize the royal palace. The Knight Commander will have his forces stand by.”
“Your Grace? Your Grace!”
Leaving those words behind, the Duke departed to ready his arms, unwilling to face the retainers any longer.
Only confusion remained in his wake.
The royal knights were far weaker than those loyal to Duke Verde. No one in the kingdom had the strength to stop him.
And with the Duke’s unmatched popularity among the nobility, he could have claimed the throne long ago, had he wished.
But up to now, he had served the current king out of nothing but unwavering loyalty.
So why… now?
The retainers had questions. Many, in fact.
But in the end, he was their liege—and if their lord had decided to be king, they had no choice but to follow.

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