Chapter 143: Chapter 143 – Floor 13: Part 4

Chapter 143 – Floor 13: Part 4

While Prince Aiden swung his borrowed sword, causing it to let out a scream as it passed through the air, Marten and the other Knights were studying him carefully. It was immediately apparent to the assembled Lords that something wasn’t right about Aiden’s proficiency with a sword.

“Huh.” Marten remarked as he frowned.

“What?” Daphne asked, curious about how her cousin had been reacting to the Prince. Marten shrugged and took another sip from his drink.

“Aiden doesn’t know how to use a sword.” Marten concluded. The Prince’s stance was terrible; his feet were too close together, and his grip on the hilt wasn’t proper. Aiden appeared like a woodcutter chopping logs to a trained swordsman like Marten. The way he swung his blade was all power, no finesse.

Marten told Daphne his observations, and the young woman tried to come up with a reason for Aiden’s lack of skill with a sword.

“Perhaps he is trained in magic? He clearly has the mana reserves for it and has shown an aptitude for projecting it outside his body.” Daphne reasoned, thinking of Aiden’s display in the Cathedral.

Magic required the externalization of mana. The storm created by Aiden at the Cathedral certainly fit the criteria.

“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s entirely the truth either. The way he walks and moves, Aiden can fight. Just not with a sword.” Marten deduced.

If Marten could notice Aiden’s awkwardness with his sword, then to a master swordsman like Reginald, his faults were as clear as good glass. But unlike Daphne, who tried to find a logical reason for Aiden’s performance, Reginald instantly assumed that the Prince was doing it on purpose.

“Are you looking down on me, Aiden!? Do you not consider me to be a worthy opponent?” Reginald shouted as he flushed red in anger.

The young lord gripped his sword in two hands; the single-edged sabre was slightly curved. Marten observed that Reginald was in the first stance of the ‘Striking Hawk,’ a fast and deadly sword form that had the blade held higher than normal, with his left foot forward.

Marten hated Reginald Fairfax with a passion; the man was incredibly rude and prone to outbursts, but he could concede that he was a well-trained and talented Knight. There was probably no better test of Aiden’s skills that House Rosen could use than pitting the two against each other.

“Honestly? Not really.” Aiden said with a shrug. Rather than take a stance from a recognizable Sword Form, Aiden had his blade hang loosely at his side in one hand. The crowd murmured and whispered at the response, and the group of Lords and Ladies near Rosen grumbled the loudest.

Reginald shot forward, his sword a flash of light as it struck toward Aiden’s heart. The Prince didn’t raise his sword; he twisted his body slightly and let the blade pass by before punching it out with his left hand. Reginald turned quickly, light on his feet to avoid the blow.

From ‘Striking Hawk,’ Reginald flowed into ‘Manifold Viper,’ a deadly series of stabs that moved so quickly that to the casual onlooker, it would appear as if multiple swords were attempting to hit Aiden. But the Prince avoided them all with only a minimal amount of movement.

If Aiden were to block Reginald’s sword with his own, Marten would have been impressed and could possibly match. But to dodge and weave around them as if Reginald was moving in slow motion was a feat that Marten himself could never hope to achieve.

Aiden wasn’t done with merely dodging; he would follow up with attacks of his own. When Reginald struck out with ‘Soaring Heron,’ Aiden countered with a blow to Reginald’s chest that forced the young lord backwards.

Reginald retreated, coughing and panting as he tried to regain his breath. Marten couldn’t believe Aiden’s performance. He didn’t raise his sword once, not to block or to attack. To make things more impressive, the Prince’s feet hadn’t moved from where he stood. Every strike had been avoided by twisting and turning his body.

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Next to him, Daphne let out a gasp of shock. This wasn’t like watching a battle between equals; this was a man toying with his opponent to send a message to everyone around him. Aiden was saying, ‘I am better than you, and I can prove it.’

“Done?” Aiden asked with a grin as Reginald finally caught his breath and stood upright.

“No. I don’t know where the King found you, but you’re obviously a barbarian. You lack a Knight's skill and will never be more than a brute. Let me show you why the Knights of Anglia have been able to defeat the Demi-Beasts.” Reginald boasted.

Mana began to swirl around the young lord. The wind rose, and Reginald’s white silk shirt fluttered. The veins stood out against his pale skin, and he gritted his teeth as he forced his mana to cycle through his body.

“Shit.” Marten muttered, recognizing what Reginald was doing. Unlike a Mage that could ‘externalize’ their mana to cast spells, Knights used their mana to increase their strength and physical abilities. But, there were also more advanced techniques that could allow Knights to do more than just enhance their bodies.

“Black Flames of Retribution.”

Reginald held his long sabre sideways in front of him, focusing his will on the blade. He ran his hand along the length of the sword, starting from the hilt, along the flat until he reached the tip. As his hand passed over the steel, fire emerged.

Marten could feel the heat from the magical flames, even from where he stood. When Reginald raised the sword up in the ‘Hawk’ stance that he had started the duel in, a line of fire remained in the air where the flaming steel had passed. It took seconds for the line of fire to dissipate.

He had heard about the Fairfax Sword Technique before but had never witnessed it himself. It was incredibly dangerous as it severely limited movement in the area, anyone touching the lingering flames would be burnt as if the sword itself struck them.

Aiden looked unaffected by the heat, and his face showed his indifference. Marten was impressed by how well the Prince was doing. If it was him facing such a technique, he would be pissing himself. The Black Flames of Retribution could cut down even the strongest of Demi-Beasts, let alone a person.

Reginald shot forward even faster than before. The technique had increased his speed and strength. The line of fire followed him, streaking down toward Aiden, who side-stepped the attack. The blade bit into the ground, cutting through the wooden dancefloor and the stone beneath.

Withdrawing his sabre and leaving a trail of black fire in its wake, Reginald struck again, this time from the opposite direction.

“This is it.” Marten whispered, already knowing what would happen. Aiden was boxed in; the lingering line of black flames to his side meant that he could only retreat backwards or block with his sword.

Indeed, with the flame-covered sword swinging toward him, Aiden raised the blade in his right hand and blocked the descending weapon. There was a deafening ‘clang’ as the weapons met. Enchanted with magic, the two swords could bear weight and pressure that would snap regular steel.

Reginald let out a grunt as he pushed against Aiden’s sword. The Prince was undeterred; his arm didn’t even shake as he kept the sabre from reaching him. Even at that close distance, Marten could see the Prince was still unconcerned about the black flames inches from him.

“Gods damn you, why won’t you die!” Reginald roared, and the black flames surged as he fed more of his mana into them, pushing them beyond their normal limits. This had gone beyond a mere honour duel; Reginald was forcing the contest into a life-and-death situation.

And still, no one attempted to stop them. Whether the King wanted to see his son crush his opposition, or House Rosen wanted the Prince gone, neither side sought to interfere.

Aiden was pushed back; his feet slid across the dancefloor. But, what was worse, the black flame sabre began to cut into Aiden’s sword. It glowed red in his hands from the heat, and molten metal dripped onto the ground, burning a hole beneath his feet.

Sensing victory close at hand, Reginald gave a final burst of power into the black flames. The sword in Aiden’s hand cracked and shattered. But before it could reach the Prince’s body, it was stopped.

Marten stared in disbelief as the sabre, coated in black flames that could burn through magic-enhanced steel, was grabbed by Adien’s bare hand. The Prince calmly gripped the blade, allowing the fire to coat his hand.

“This spell isn’t bad, although that sword I was using was a piece of garbage.” Aiden remarked. Marten could see small, snake-like scales covering his hand and arm that shielded his skin from the heat. The Prince pulled his arm back, ripping the sabre from Reginald’s hands.

“That’s impossible.” Reginald exclaimed in disbelief.

“Sure, whatever.” Aiden said. The flames died as soon as contact with Reginald was lost, and Aiden tossed the sabre onto the ground. He began to walk slowly toward the stunned lord, and Marten could see that the hand that had touched the sabre’s blade was red, cracked and bleeding slightly.

“I wasn’t ‘not taking you seriously.’ I just don’t know how to use a sword. I never had to learn.” Aiden admitted. Before Reginald could respond, the Prince was moving at a speed greater than his opponent had shown during the entire duel.

Aiden’s fist slammed into Reginald’s stomach, and the young lord immediately collapsed. The Prince grinned as he looked toward Lord Rosen and his entourage.

“Alright, who’s next?”