The Terminally Ill Prince is the Mad Dog of the Underworld (Novel) - Chapter 49
Chapter 49. Grünewald’s Gladiator
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Ulvhilde Grünewald.
She is the only princess of the Grünewald duchy and the commander leading the 2nd Battalion of the Special Task Force.
“A humid and cloudy day like today is good for practicing the Snow Crane Shadow Sword technique.”
Every time she slowly waved her arms, the cold air rose like mist, freezing the surrounding humidity into frost.
The sight was as beautiful as a snow-crafted crane spreading its wings.
“Second Commander, your ice technique is beautiful as always.”
“It’s like watching a noble crane walking across a frozen lake.”
The Special Task Force members watching her scene flattered.
“Shut up, can’t you see the Commander is training?”
“Stop interrupting her concentration.”
Other members immediately rebuked them.
The Special Task Force members wore diverse, non-uniform attire that made them look more like mercenaries than soldiers at first glance.
“Quiet.”
When Ulvhilde put her white finger to her lips, the members’ mouths closed in unison.
‘…At this stage, I need to compress the cold air further. But it’s as difficult as touching frost without breaking it.’
She had progressed beyond simply learning and executing martial arts to the stage of developing it in her own way. This was truly worthy of being called a genius.
‘The Snow Crane Shadow Sword technique becomes unrivaled when mastered, but its intensity makes it difficult to control its power.’
Many female sword masters who made names for themselves in the Grünewald family chose this technique. Cold energy is yin energy – a martial art more suited to women than men by nature.
Moreover, as a Special Task Force, ice techniques specialized in both subduing and killing were more suitable than overwhelming killing power alone.
‘All Grünewald martial arts branch from the basic Ocean Circulation Heart Method. But the ocean harmonizes better with ice than with fire.’
This was Ulvhilde’s theory.
Reaching such a level of martial arts mastery at such a young age was no easy feat. Her nickname “Martial Arts Fanatic” was well-deserved.
“If Ulvhilde had ambition for power, Karl wouldn’t have been Verdzich’s greatest rival.”
“Her genius in martial arts is second only to Verdzich.”
Such words often circulated among Grünewald’s elders, and it was no exaggeration.
Even including all the elders and branch family members, Ulvhilde had already reached achievements that easily ranked her among the top three female masters of Grünewald.
Moreover, Ulvhilde wasn’t famous solely for her overwhelming martial prowess. In fact, she was also renowned for her beauty, considered among the finest in the entire Kingdom of Litvalor.
Her features, said to rival Verdzich’s, were famous for causing lovesickness among many noble sons and knights.
‘As expected, the Second Commander is impressive today too.’
‘To be so strong yet so diligent.’
‘Is it allowed for a human to be this beautiful?’
To sum up all these stories in one sentence…
Ulvhilde Grünewald was practically a divine existence within the Special Task Force.
‘Anyone who approaches the Commander, I’ll chop them up and turn them into combat ration jerky.’
‘Ah, if only I could call the Commander “sister” just once…’
The Special Task Force was originally the most unique and free-spirited unit among all Grünewald forces.
However, the 2nd Battalion led by Ulvhilde was particularly extraordinary. They were all known as “Ulvhilde’s Fanatics.”
As their nickname suggests, their loyalty bordered on madness.
And recently, the person these fanatics found most irritating was the Fourth Young Master Allenbert Grünewald.
‘That cunning b*st*rd.’
He was a boy who rose to the center of attention with his beauty rivaling Verdzich’s, his seven years of seclusion, and the talent he displayed when brilliantly breaking out of his shell.
“Using brotherhood as an excuse to curry favor with the Lord Commander.”
“Damn it. Is being handsome everything?”
“I just don’t like him.”
They gossiped about Allenbert every chance they got. Of course, these words were meant for certain ears.
“Secluding himself for seven years. Hasn’t he missed his timing?”
“That’s what I’m saying. There are countless pathetic stories.”
“With that much talent, he should have come out earlier. Knowing the right timing is also a skill and ability.”
“Who doesn’t know that?”
“Even with some talent, after wasting so much time, it’ll be difficult to close the gap.”
Ulvhilde clicked her tongue inwardly at the sight of grown adults being jealous of her younger brother. They were truly pathetic.
‘But they’re also reliable comrades on the battlefield.’
“Watch your mouths. Who dares to belittle my brother?”
“But the Lord Commander clearly said before…”
“Enough.”
Ulvhilde cut them off.
“People can change overnight. Hasn’t Allen changed after making such a firm resolution?”
Once, Ulvhilde had viewed Allenbert as the most pitiful and pathetic. However, his talent and commanding presence that she witnessed firsthand were truly extraordinary.
“What matters is the mindset in wielding a sword, not timing. Aren’t there some among you who only picked up a sword after your minds had hardened?”
“Well, that’s true.”
The Special Task Force was quite a unique unit. They typically recruited those without formal training from outside, or selected talented individuals who couldn’t adapt to the internal atmosphere of the Royal Guard or Knights.
Therefore, people said they were the least soldier-like among those serving in the military.
‘But their skills are absolutely first-rate elite.’
The Special Task Force was a special unit specialized in various tasks including special missions, infiltration, espionage, reconnaissance, landing operations, merchant ship escort, and VIP protection.
As such, within the Special Task Force, they firmly believed in meritocracy regardless of one’s past or status. Thus, even those whose promotion paths were blocked due to minor offenses often achieved great success and advancement in the Special Task Force.
“Harold. What do you think?”
Ulvhilde, who had briefly paused her training in the unsettled atmosphere, asked.
“Hmm, well. I can’t be certain since I haven’t seen him with my own eyes yet.”
Harold, the adjutant known for his unique intuition, stroked his beard.
“The Lord Commander’s eye can’t be wrong, can it? If so, he must be a genius.”
The members jeered at this.
“Boo. Bootlicker, boo.”
“These days, why does everyone call just anyone a genius? Only someone like our Lord Commander should…”
“Quiet. If you’ve got a problem, come at me.”
“Too scared to say anything now.”
It was during this commotion that news of Allenbert’s sparring match spread.
“What? He’s sparring with a Royal Guard member?”
“Wooden sword sparring. Mana use is prohibited.”
“The result won’t be any different anyway.”
The Special Task Force members whispered while watching Ulvhilde’s reaction.
“Who’s Keseg?”
Ulvhilde furrowed her brow.
“Generally a pathetic fellow. His reputation isn’t much either.”
“Is that so?”
“But in terms of skill alone, he’s good enough to join the Royal Guard. At least he didn’t bribe his way in.”
Allenbert, who hadn’t properly learned swordsmanship, challenging a Royal Guard member who had reached the 4th rank?
This was a hopeless fight from the start, regardless of genius.
“Turns out he’s quite reckless.”
“Does he think he can win?”
“That would be difficult.”
“If he’s a genius, shouldn’t he be able to win at least that much?”
No matter how exceptional one’s martial talent might be, it was common sense that a boy who hadn’t even trained for two weeks couldn’t defeat a warrior of Royal Guard caliber. That was simply common sense.
“But it’s a different story when it comes to wooden sword sparring.”
Ulvhilde’s eyes gleamed.
“If it’s Allen, perhaps…”
She recalled the blue sword aura her younger brother created with just a knife.
The sword aura isn’t just made up of mana completion alone.
“What matters is how sharp a sword you hold in your mind.”
Sword aura that transcends mental techniques.
Perhaps Allenbert was already a proper swordsman.
“When and where is the sparring match?”
“Oh, they say it’s at 3 PM in the main training ground.”
Ulvhilde nodded.
“Let’s go.”
…This was the moment when Allenbert would catch his first big fish.
* * *
“This is an opportunity.”
Guard Keseg’s heart was racing.
“If I teach that reckless younger brother a lesson, Young Lord Verdzich will be pleased. Then he’ll give me a great reward. Maybe I could even transfer to his unit and advance my career…”
His delusions bloomed like cumulus clouds. A stage to show off his martial prowess in front of everyone had appeared like a dream. One of life’s rare great opportunities seemed within his grasp.
“Young Lord has underestimated this Keseg too much.”
Keseg practiced his grand speech while looking in the mirror.
“You have some talent. But do you know the weight of sweat silently shed by myself and fellow guards? Don’t make the mistake of being arrogant with just your meager talent. The path of martial arts is honest.”
Keseg muttered while lifting his chin dignifiedly. Even he thought that was a cool line just now. Too long? It’s fine. If he breaks up the breathing well enough…
“What is that guy doing?”
“Not sure. He’s been muttering to himself while looking in the mirror?”
Keseg, absorbed in his own coolness, started flipping his hair.
“Oh good grief.”
“Pathetic guy. He’s going to get himself in trouble.”
The guards shook their heads looking at Keseg’s excited back.
‘If he loses, it’ll be so humiliating.’
‘Be prepared. With this kind of attitude, if you lose, you’re as good as dead that day.’
The disaster Keseg brought upon himself was about to weigh down on his neck.
* * *
I clicked my tongue looking at the spectators gathered like clouds.
“Wow, should we be grilling sardines to sell or something?”
One would think a festival was being held.
Here and there, I could see guys carrying boxes collecting betting money.
“Olivie, should I place a bet too?”
“…Have some dignity.”
“I’m kidding.”
Olivie sighed.
“It doesn’t sound like a joke.”
“Maybe I could do it anonymously? I could multiply my money by betting on my victory.”
“…That is tempting.”
“How absurd. You told me to maintain dignity?”
“I was trying to make a joke too.”
Olivie making jokes. This is rare.
“Um, young master. Are you confident?”
Peter asked with an anxious face.
“Why? Want to place a bet too?”
“What money do I have?”
“You know, those gold coins you left with the youngest…”
“That’s not possible!”
Peter squeezed his eyes shut.
“Alright, the atmosphere seems ripe.”
I gripped the practice wooden sword Peter handed me and walked to the center of the training ground.
“Greetings everyone. I am Allenbert Grünewald.”
The noisy crowd fell silent at once. I walked casually on the dirt ground receiving their gazes.
“It’s been a while seeing faces in person. I’ve returned after a 7-year gap.”
In the distance, Peter and Olivie were looking at me with faces that seemed to say ‘what is he going to say now.’
“How do I look in person? There must have been only rumors.”
The crowd gave no response.
“You tell me.”
I kindly pointed to one of the guards.
“…I’ve been watching the young lord train for the past few days.”
“So we’re already acquainted. How was it?”
“It was truly intense. Not the kind of training just anyone could endure. Even I thought I would have vomited and wanted to give up several times.”
“Ah, I see.”
“If the young lord is so sincere about swordsmanship, why would today’s outcome matter so much? Even if you lose, I don’t think you’ll go down easily.”
I nodded with a satisfied expression.
“I’m glad you understand. Please, sit.”
I looked at the guards, knights, and employees. Though I couldn’t remember their faces, there were also what appeared to be distant relatives and vassals watching me from afar while fanning themselves.
“As you all know, Keseg is a member of Grünewald’s proud guard. He must have proper skills and trained hard accordingly. All while I spent futile time in my room.”
“…”
“It’s true that I suffered from amnesia due to a fever. But fortunately, I now know ‘everything I need to know.'”
The fall of House Eisenach, grandfather’s death, mother’s seclusion.
I clearly reminded people of all these events without having to mention them.
“…”
Some sensitive women’s eyes welled up with tears.
I know my face tends to stir up people’s emotions. When a rough-looking fellow like Karzan cries, it looks pathetic, but when a handsome man like Allenbert cries, it seems there must be a story behind it.
“I no longer intend to despair over the fact that I’m terminally ill. Because I believe there must be a way. Even if I can’t find the legendary medicine Erischker, won’t I be able to live a few more years by training in martial arts?”
The terminally ill young lord Allenbert with many stories. I intended to create a scene where this Lord Allenbert would surprise everyone.
I wonder if Keseg realizes he’s about to be cast as the opponent in this heroic tale? Of course not. He’s probably already intoxicated with thoughts of being the hero of his own epic, walking through flower gardens. Poor thing.
“Let me make it clear that I hold no particular ill will toward Keseg. My words and actions may have just rubbed him the wrong way somewhat.”
Even to my own ears, this was quite a detestable statement.
‘Anyone listening would think he was the one who picked the fight.’
But remember this – this is how you create justification.
“However, that’s not really important. He is a warrior and I aspire to be one as well, so we’ll simply clash swords to settle our differences.”
The audience’s eyes gleamed, determined not to miss a single movement of mine.
“This is clearly a disadvantageous fight for me. My body isn’t fully recovered yet, and I’m still lacking in both stamina and strength. Not to mention experience.”
People unconsciously nodded their heads.
“Nevertheless.”
I looked at the crowd, fully immersed in my story, and smirked.
“I shall grant you all a special bonus today. Who would like to bet on my victory?”
“…!”
Everyone’s eyes widened at these unexpected words.
‘Heheh, the stakes are getting higher.’
A fight to watch, money, and gambling.
I threw in everything people go crazy for.
‘Perfect.’
At this moment, I am Grünewald’s gladiator.