Chapter 10 – The Duel

Early morning.

Inquisitor Ludrick read some articles published in the famous press of the Empire and went straight to find his superior.

“Lead Inquisitor. There is something you must see.”

He showed the articles published in two newspapers.

“Nine times out of ten, it is that cleric. I understand his house arrest was lifted not long ago, yet he is already embroiled in a duel. It is certainly something the knighthood intended.”

She lowered her gaze and read the headlines in the newspapers.

[Cleric throws down the gauntlet to the Rose Cross! What is the direction of the match? -Empire Daily-]

[A noon stained with the blood of the knighthood and the monk -Capital Dispatch-]

Looking at the contents,

it was today at noon.

The content was that two elites of the Holy Order would clash on Pizarro Street.

As to why they were fighting, or what the reason was,

detailed contents were not published, but

it was heavily reported that one of the two participating in the duel would surely die, and their honor would be ruined.

‘It seems he fell into the knighthood’s tricks.’

A short sigh escaped her, but it was something she had predicted to some extent.

She went and sat down in her seat.

She had clearly warned him, and had even given him advice, if not a warning, to maintain his house arrest as much as possible.

Yet he still got caught up in it.

‘It seems he completely ignored my words. I thought he wasn’t a fool since he boldly assumed there was wiretapping, but was he?’

She tightly closed her eyes, feeling a throbbing in her temples.

It was due to working late the previous night.

On her desk, materials on a certain cleric whom she had been investigating until the day before were piled up in heaps.

“What we have investigated so far has also become meaningless now.”

He said in a tone filled with certainty.

“Since he fell for the knighthood’s lure, it will be hard for him to survive the duel.”

Typically,

the martial power of knights and monks was heavily skewed toward the knights’ side.

This was partly due to the magic armor, but it was also because knights were generally free from seals.

“A cleric with even a seal cannot defeat a knight, can they?”

Since it was true, she did not particularly refute it.

She only felt that the knighthood stubbornly biting onto him, and the cleric who fell for the tricks of such a knighthood, were truly pathetic.

However,

what was this discomfort arising from her intuition?

‘Why… does it feel like that cleric will win?’

She was swept by a groundless question.

Why?

There was clearly no way that would happen.

She opened her eyes and lightly scanned the various files placed in front of her.

They were his materials that she had examined until late the previous night.

“That cleric. His achievements were exceptionally good.”

“Pardon? What are you saying all of a sudden.”

Though she was reluctant to say what would follow,

she ended up blurting it out.

“Why do I feel like he will win that duel?”

“There’s no way.”

Inquisitor Ludrick wore an expression that showed he found it hard to understand.

“He is a cleric. No matter how good his achievements are, a mere monk cannot dare to defeat a knight.”

True.

Not a single one of his words was wrong.

Since she also considered that to be common sense.

However, his achievements that she had delved into until the previous day bothered her.

“While most clerics are eager to ferret out players through things like indiscriminate witch hunts, that cleric built up his achievements in missions that everyone genuinely reluctant to take. Honestly, to the point where I even doubt if he did it alone.”

“Is it to that extent?”

“In the purification activity of the northwest parish of the capital, he withstood the offensive of the dead for a whopping thirteen days and defended the sanctuary single-handedly. And he also stopped the demon resurrection ritual being carried out at the pagans’ secret hideout in the underground waterways of the capital.”

“If it is to that extent… then in your view, Lead Inquisitor, do you think that cleric has a chance of winning?”

She spoke flatly.

“No. That will be difficult. Even if my feeling is that he’ll win, realistically it is difficult.”

The opponent was the knighthood.

Since they are a knighthood that values prestige, to prepare for any unforeseen accidents, they will surely hire a proxy duelist and send them to the dueling site.

And that skill will at least be in the master realm.

“A proxy will probably emerge. The skill will be master-class or higher.”

“Well, if it’s the knighthood, they wouldn’t send knights to the dueling site for the sake of prestige. I thought so too.”

“Inquisitor Ludrick.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think a mere cleric’s martial power can surpass the master realm? Or be compared to that level?”

The answer to that question

popped out immediately.

“Absolutely not. A cleric who has reached the master realm… there’s no way such a cleric could exist, nor could it be possible.”

“It’s the same for me. There wouldn’t be such a cleric. Unless it were a knight or an inquisitor like me.”

If.

By some absolute miracle,

if that cleric wins the duel.

Could it be.

That the culprit who killed the Saintess inside that closed dungeon was…

“Was it today at noon?”

“Yes, today at noon. Are you really going to go see it? The outcome should be obvious.”

It could be a wasted trip.

However,

her intuition was not bad.

‘I will have to cancel my lunch appointment.’

* * *

The lodging located not very far from Pizarro Street.

Dressed in his combat suit, Rashid looked down at his weapons laid out on the bed.

From cross-shaped throwing stars to diverse swords.

Adjustable silver stakes and two pistols loaded with silver bullets caught his eye.

‘Is the duel soon?’

The opponent is a powerhouse who has reached the realm of a Sword Master.

Sword Champion Heimdall.

‘But it is a relief. Precisely because it is him.’

His skill was undeniably master-class, but he had a fatal weakness.

‘Since he is a fellow who created his own swordsmanship, he has immense pride in his swordsmanship. And because his self-esteem is also high, he will absolutely not do anything petty in a duel. Rather, he will try to fight fairly from the same position. Because he is someone more sincere about duels than anyone else.’

For example,

crushing Rashid while wearing equipment equivalent to magic armor, which Rashid wouldn’t even dare to wear in a public place.

Or freely controlling mana against a cleric who is sealed.

‘He will try to match my side as much as possible. If it’s that fellow, he is more than capable of doing so. Otherwise, his pride wouldn’t permit it.’

Therefore,

this duel was highly likely to be a pure battle of skill, focusing on technique rather than raw stats.

‘So, it is indeed a favorable factor that he is my opponent, but…’

the problem lay elsewhere.

Even if he won the duel, the knighthood whose honor was tarnished would not stay quiet.

‘They will probably harass me even more persistently. They are bastards more than capable of doing so.’

Also, by defeating a master-class powerhouse, his objectively evaluated martial power would be revealed to the whole world.

If that happens…

‘It will be like confessing that I am the Saintess’s assassin.’

He, who had hidden under the seal until now, would no longer receive that protection.

‘So, I have prepared something on my side as well.’

Rashid turned his gaze to a certain document folder placed on one side of the bed.

It was data he had collected in secret,

intended to bury someone forever in preparation for any unforeseen circumstances.

‘I will have to end everything after today. I guarantee I won’t suffer as the Saintess’s assassin anymore.’

* * *

On the street adjacent to Pizarro.

A luxurious limousine stopped.

A while later,

several vampire knights approached in a group, and at the same time, the rear window of the vehicle rolled down.

Kain asked the knights he had summoned.

“Where is that guy?”

“He is still staying at the lodgings.”

“Surely he won’t flee or anything?”

“There were no such signs at all. If nothing unusual happens, he will emerge at the dueling ground and face Heimdall.”

“Is that so?”

To dare request a duel from his knighthood.

A mere cleric was far too insolent.

A fellow who couldn’t even handle a single knight here right now,

arrogant without knowing his place.

“What about Heimdall?”

“He is already waiting at the dueling site.”

Kain smiled bitterly.

“Is that so? Fast.”

“He is already a well-reputed fixer in that underworld. Even though it costs quite a bit, his work will be certain.”

“Indeed. Since he is a master-class powerhouse.”

As far as Kain knew, Heimdall had never lost in a proxy duel.

In the first place, if he had ever lost, he wouldn’t have even emerged for this proxy duel.

Then, one knight expressed concern.

“Commander. What if… that guy loses?”

Kain’s eyes turned fierce in an instant.

“What nonsense are you talking right now? That guy is a master-class powerhouse. Can he lose to a mere cleric?”

Whether he thought he had spoken uselessly,

the knight who said those words bowed his head.

“I apologize. I was short-sighted.”

“That guy is a monster who bites to death even a lion. Don’t speak nonsense, and report immediately once the outcome is out. Because I will wait here.”

“Yes.”

Commensurate with the car window rolling back up,

Kain displayed his uncomfortable feelings without filtering.

‘Is there any way he’d lose? That guy is someone even I find hard to handle.’

Would he be called the Sword Champion for nothing?

There was a good reason for it, and Kain believed in it.

‘There is absolutely no way he’ll lose. Absolutely.’

* * *

“Hey, did you hear?”

“Of course. They say there’s a duel today at noon?”

“Look at the people here. They really gathered in droves upon hearing the rumors.”

The entrance to Pizarro Street.

Unlike its usual quiet state, the place was packed to the gills with people who had come upon hearing the rumors.

Those who had waited since early dawn were able to occupy rather good spots, but those who hadn’t could not easily view the inner street even if they stood on tiptoe.

Thus, several who could not secure a spot climbed on top of Pizarro’s various buildings and waited for the duel that would take place at noon.

Although the outside of Pizarro Street was bustling with no room to step,

the inner street of Pizarro where the duel was to occur was actually empty.

Because getting caught up in the duel and dying or getting injured would be a major loss,

they did not dare to go inside to watch.

“Look over there. That person seems to be the one coming out for the duel.”

“Ah! I know that person. It’s Heimdall, right? The Sword Champion.”

On the empty Pizarro Street,

a single half-elf carrying a longsword was waiting for someone with a rather relaxed appearance.

The people recognized him at once, and he was also enjoying that attention.

“It’s Heimdall. The master of proxy duels.”

“Could he have emerged as the knighthood’s proxy? Rosenkreuz really made up its mind. To think they sent out Heimdall.”

“It will be hard for the cleric to win, right? The opponent is Heimdall. That person is at the master realm. He isn’t at a mere expert level.”

“Indeed. No matter how much of a cleric he is, to face an opponent even knights find difficult…”

At that moment,

a major commotion was heard behind the buzzing crowd.

When everyone looked over there,

a single cleric was silently heading toward Pizarro Street amidst the parting crowd.

A shabby monastic robe.

And his combat suit visible beneath it was seen.

“It’s that cleric. The one who requested a duel from the knighthood.”

“A duel against the knighthood… his guts are good, but can he really win? Moreover, the opponent is Heimdall.”

“He probably won’t win. Because Heimdall has never once lost in a proxy duel.”

Like the miracle of Moses,

Rashid, who stood at the entrance of Pizarro after making his way through the parting crowd, saw the half-elf swordsman waiting for him far away.

‘As expected, it was Heimdall.’

Satisfied with his correct prediction, Rashid smiled faintly.

Whether he knew this or not,

Heimdall, who was waiting for his opponent on the empty street, saw the cleric showing his face far away.

‘Has he come? He arrived on time without being late.’

Since he might run away upon realizing his identity,

Heimdall did not step forward and waited for a moment.

Intending to sneer at him if he took to his heels.

However, the stood cleric’s will seemed quite firm, and confirming this, Heimdall also let out a light snort.

‘His guts are good.’

Heimdall came out to the center of the street and took a somewhat peculiar quick-draw stance.

It was his trademark quick-draw technique, pulling the sword from a bent upper body with his stride split wide.

To the extent that there were people who recognized who he was just by looking at his quick-draw technique.

Once Heimdall finished preparations to welcome someone like that,

Rashid also shed his shabby monastic robe, revealing his combat suit mounted with various weapons.

Heimdall, gently raising his head, saw that appearance and sneered faintly.

‘Come, Cleric.’

At that provocative smile, Rashid walked toward him very slowly, then suddenly began to run.

It was the start of the duel.