Disclaimer:
I do not own the Re: Zero series or anything else relating to it. It is all owned by Tappei Nagatsuki. Any OC found within this story is of my creation.
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"So that's your aim, huh? I should have expected this from you."
"You did ask how we should settle this. Don't tell me you're turning tail now?"
"And what led you to that assumption?"
"Heh, it's my job to discipline cocky brats like you."
The twisted grin from the drunkard disturbed me. Even so, I stood my ground and mustered what bravado I had.
With Heinkel having the nerve to request an official duel, my options were limited. Just an hour into being a Royal Candidate, another hurdle blocked my path. Said hurdle was not that of a sadistic assassin, but the Deputy Commander himself. I was certain that my well-being wasn't threatened. Instead, the position that had been bestowed upon me was in jeopardy.
To make matters worse, my opponent happened to be the father of my friend and knight. Stealing a glance towards Reinhard, who seemed apprehensive about our quarrel. His downcast look was all I needed to know that the situation was troubling for him as well. Heinkel had made the first move. It was only right that I responded.
Retrieving the thrown glove, I accepted his challenge.
Heinkel snickered with satisfaction, "That's what I like to see. Although, it's still not too late to just admit defeat now."
"Enough with your insults already. It's only right we agree on the date, time, conditions, and demands of the duel. Since you were the one who challenged me, I'll let you decide."
"How generous of you. I propose we hold this tomorrow at the beginning of Wind time. As for the setting, the duel shall be held in the garden," Heinkel declared.
"As for the conditions and demands?" I asked. Hearing my simple question, he raised a single finger.
"The first one to land three strikes will be considered the victor. Second, Carol will serve as the moderator." At the last finger, his eyes glinted sinisterly. "When I defeat you, then you will officially resign your position as a candidate for the throne."
Blunt and direct. He was out to rid me before the official start of my campaign.
'Fucking bastard. He's probably the worst one I've ever met…besides my landlord.'
From behind, his dismayed son came to my side, "Father, is all of this absolutely necessary? Lord Sean has done nothing to warrant such actions. There has to be another way to reso—" Unsurprisingly, Heinkel's cold stare silenced him entirely.
"Tck, you really want me to repeat myself?! If I were you, I'd think carefully before speaking against me again," Heinkel warned in a venomous tone. He then turned his attention back to me, "So what do you say, Lord Sean? Do you accept what I have stated?"
His bare hand then crept towards me. Accompanied with that was his foul yet smug expression. Though as silently angered as I was, I had to respect him for following the practices of a knight.
With no other choice, I regretfully shook his hand.
I then said, "As for my demand: you will become my official sponsor. That also entails any future acts of disobedience will not be tolerated. That should be fine, right?" Tightening my grip, he understood my intentions fully. Heinkel merely grunted and swatted my hand away.
"You better prepare yourself, brat. I won't be holding back."
"Neither will I, bastard. You'll come to learn why you shouldn't underestimate me."
"Is that so? We'll just have to see about that haha."
He stroked his stubble beard eagerly and left. When the departing lord neared the edge of the hallway, I let out an exasperated sigh. Yet again, I had to defy the odds. To say I was prepared to duel the man was a blatant lie. For the life of me, I only hoped I'd find a way to come out on top.
'For fuck's sake… I just had to run my mouth. I really need to watch what I say.'
It started to look as if I was my own worst enemy.
Checking on Reinhard, his silence was the worst effect of his father's hostility. If I didn't console him, his guilt would ultimately eat him alive.
"Lord Sean…I apologize." Before I could utter a word, he took a deep breath and shamefully bowed. His face, sullen and grim, painted a clear portrait of his inner distress, "If only my father would listen, then none of this would have happened. As a Royal Candidate, he knows full well the authority you possess. I ask that you spare him and place the blame onto me—it is only right that I do so for the House Astrea," Reinhard implored.
Maintaining his rigid posture, his hand lay across his chest in a salute. It was only right to respect a man who had such conviction, but…
"Rein?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
Self-deprecation, albeit for the sake of others. His own father was willing to use him for his personal gain, yet he defended him without hesitation? Heinkel, blinded by his woes, did not see the love his son held for him.
Something I couldn't do for my father.
"Rein, you shouldn't burden yourself with Heinkel's mistakes. I feel sorry that you have to constantly put up with him." I admitted, crossing my arms in displeasure. Fortunately, the abused son did have me to help him, "But I'll just chalk it up as you being yourself. What must be done is teaching your dad a life lesson. In a way, we won't be humiliating him but instead just rectifying his horrible character," Seeing Reinhard tilt his head to the side, I grinned.
The confused knight spoke, "I suppose that is one way to address it. Beneath my father's crude and rough exterior, he is still very much a good man. He's become a shell of his former self due to my incompetence. However," he bowed his head with slumped shoulders, "disappointing my father any further than I have already will only increase the burden he has to carry. I only pray that this will all be resolved peacefully."
"Sheesh, blaming yourself to the very end. I will say that you're right about your dad. There's still some good in him. We just have to remind him."
"I'm glad you see that too. In time, I hope that side of him returns."
"It will. Right after I win and rub it in his face, that is."
"Confident as always, Lord Sean. It's best we prepare you for what's to come, yes?"
"Certainly."
Soon after, a rippling sense of uneasiness washed over me. I realized why when I swiped the back of my hand onto my forehead.
Sweat.
The Deputy Commander had unsettled me.
"Let me get this straight: Turns out you're a Royal whatchamacallit because the badge glowed, and now Reinhard's asshole-of-a dad wants to fight you? Honestly, I'm starting to think you like getting into trouble, Big Bro."
"Hmm, Felt's not wrong. Y're even starting to worry me, lad."
"Aww, I'm touched, guys. And here I assumed you both thought I was normal. What a relief."
"Argh, take this seriously!"
The blonde teen's sudden shout caused Rom, Reinhard, and I to laugh. While she was correct in that regard, the puff of her cheeks soon after had the opposite desired effect.
Calming down, the blonde teen worriedly spoke again, "What're you gonna do? Everything you—we've done will be for nothing! You can't let that piece of shit just push you around." Before Reinhard could correct her, she pressed on, "Still, I didn't think I'd find someone more annoying than Red. Maybe me and Old Man Rom can teach his dad a lesson? That way you don't have to dirty your hands."
"Well…about that," I hesitantly said.
"You didn't…" Felt stood up instantly in disbelief.
Removing my glasses, her concern was admittedly confirmed, "I already accepted his challenge."
Like a spark, my answer fueled a raging inferno that was brimming within her eyes.
"You what?! No, this isn't right! Old Man Rom, we gotta help him!"
While the giant heard his surrogate granddaughter's plea, he simply closed his eyes. That was enough for her to understand his view on the matter.
"Felt, just have faith in the boy. He'll find a way to turn this around," Rom muttered.
"But we'd also be in trouble too if he loses! It's not right to just let him fend for himself!" Felt objected.
"Yes, but this situation is different. The customs of a duel are sacred." The giant rubbed his head and sighed. "We'd only be an inconvenience to the boy. It's best we stay out of this mess for now."
Appalled, Felt tugged on his shoulder. "Big Bro almost died trying to save us. And you're telling me to let him fight for us again? While we sit here and do nothing?!" Her loving guardian only looked on with a straight face.
"...Yes."
Shaken by his honest response she bit her small lip.
'Dammit. My problems shouldn't have to be theirs as well.'
Wanting to dissolve the growing worry I had brought upon the two, something unexpected occurred. Like a blessing from Volcanica, my knight stepped in.
"Felt, I will be instructing Lord Sean on his lessons in swordsmanship. Rest assured, he will not be entering the duel blindly. That I can promise," Reinhard added. Felt hopped off the bed she had been lounging on to confront the knight's bold claim.
"Huh?! Red, we're gonna need a miracle if he's to win! Do you really think one day will be enough to help him?" Felt exclaimed with her hands on her hips.
Ouch. That was a low blow.
And yet, he persisted with his belief.
"Yes, I believe so. I will make sure of it."
While she stared at him intensely, he did not waver. From that alone, she backed off and hmped to herself.
"Fine. You better make sure he's ready as he can be." Felt returned to her original spot and looked at me with concern. "And if you do win, what happens after? Being a ruler sounds like a pain in the ass."
Putting my glasses back on, I grinned. "You're preaching to the choir, runt. I'm not entirely sure if I have enough cigarettes to deal with all the future bull crap. Nonetheless, I already have plans in mind and I'll be needing the both of you to back me up," I stated. Pointing at the blond and giant, their brows furrowed.
"How so, boy?" Rom asked.
"Nothing malicious, I can assure you." I flicked the bridge of my glasses. "I'll be enlisting your help to get the Slums back on track." Felt then placed her hands behind her, bored.
"Basically, we're gonna be working for you? I should have seen this coming. Ugh, looks like we're done for, Old Man Rom," Felt sneered. The giant shook his head in agreement.
"Oh quit being dramatic. While I do care about both of you I need to put your expertise to work," I clarified.
Confessing my intentions, they then faced each other and stared. Neither of the two said a single word, but it seemed they were on the same page when they nodded their heads.
"Alright then!" Felt energetically stood on top of the mattress. She pointed her forefinger at me with a determined smirk. "Big Bro, we'll make sure to do our best! After you handle Red's shitty dad, we'll teach those other bastard nobles what we're made of."
Felt—the living embodiment of the saying 'live strong'— blossomed before my eyes.
"My father is still a good man, Felt," Reinhard corrected the haughty girl.
Ignoring his comment, she placed a finger on her chin. "Wait a second...If we're working for you, then do I call you 'Boss'?"
Even so, it still seemed the blondie had much more room to grow.
"Call me whatever you want. Although, if we're talking to important people then 'Boss' or 'Lord Sean' is most appropriate. I can't let rumors start to spread about my subjects showing a lack of respect," I responded, jaded.
"Okay, Boss!" Felt mockingly saluted.
Surprisingly, Rom did the same, "Whatever you say, Boss."
Pleased by this, that only left one topic to be discussed. One that concerned the elderly giant himself.
"Rein," he quickly shifted his attention to me, "can you and Felt step out for a moment? I need to speak to Rom about something important." On my command, the knight opened the door for the bewildered teen.
"Why can't we stay? Whaddya you want with Old Man Rom?" Felt asked while aiming a questionable gaze at me.
Though sharp and intimidating as her eyes were, I did not blink. To protect her view of her surrogate grandfather, she had to remain oblivious of his past. At least that's what I believed.
"It's only about his dusty old tavern, or should I say former. It's my fault he ended up losing it," I explained.
Yes, it was for the best.
Felt had yet to move and so Rom calmly assured her with a head pat. "Just go, Felt. He needs to make good on his promise haha." She welcomed his affectionate gesture and then made her way for the exit with Reinhard in tow.
Once the duo had left, an awkward silence filled the room. It was broken when the disgruntled Rom groaned, "Spit it out already, Sean. Y're unusually quiet and it's ticking me off."
'Man, I really hope I don't regret this.'
"Well, earlier today Felt said you were feeling upset. I knew that was obviously a lie on her part. Something else is bothering you—or should I say someone else."
Rom grunted. "Hmm, I'm not surprised that you picked up on that. How'd you manage to figure that out?"
"Kind of obvious when you didn't come to see me in my room or the dining hall." Clearing my throat, I pressed on with slight uneasiness. "Look, Carol and Grimm are nice people; however, the same cannot be said for their lord. You have nothing to be skeptical of while being here."
He simply stared at the floor. A glazed look then appeared in his eyes.
"There's more to it than that, lad. I don't want to cause any ruckus unless I can prevent it."
"Yes and I commend you for that. Still, that doesn't mean they'd automatically hate you. Demi-Human War veterans or not, all of that stuff is in the past."
"Is it really?" Rom rhetorically asked.
Certainly, it was a sentiment shared amongst the Lugnicans from previous and current generations. Centuries of built-up tension between Humans and Demi-Humans resulted in a senseless conflict and took many lives from both sides. In the end, there was no true winner who lavished in the spoils of war. Only regret which was occupied by the lingering prejudice shared amongst the divided society.
"I know y're not an idiot, Sean. People don't really forget—they just try to move on." Rom rubbed his oversized, calloused palms together. His pensive gaze was all that I could see, "Those were dark times for everyone involved. While it may seem like everything is fine and dandy, there's still bad blood that remains. That's the reason why I do my best to take care of Felt, so she doesn't have to face that side of the world."
Pain. Remorse. The veteran carried such emotions even after the battles had long ended.
"Nothings ever black and white, huh? I know there is still some ill will but it's rare to see. I only hope nothing happens to rekindle such a horrific period in Lugnica's history." Standing up, I proceed to veer out a window of the room. "Incidentally, what you said leads me to what I wanted to actually discuss. All that I request is that you don't retaliate with what I am about to say," I revealed, not bothering to turn to the man. The bed Rom sat on loudly squeaked.
"Oh, and what would that be? It can't be too bad?" Sadly, he was unaware that was an understatement.
"I know your secret. The name 'Rom' is simply an alias. Valga Cromwell is your true identity," I admitted.
Quietness.
Shockingly, the giant did not make a sound from the bomb I had dropped.
"...How long have you known?" He questioned. "That name isn't one you should blurt out. You can get yourself into some serious trouble."
I let out a weak chuckle, "Since the very beginning. The good news is I'm not here seeking to rat you out. I'm just a man with information."
"Yeah right. Why not tell the old servants? I'm not exactly "innocent"."
"Because Valga Cromwell, Chief Staff Officer of the Demi-Human Alliance, was the former you. Your actions and beliefs during that period were fueled by negativity, instability, and pure turmoil. While you may have committed many sins, it's not the place nor my right to judge you. War, awful as it is, brings the worst out of people." I briefly scratched the back of my head, relieving some unwanted discomfort. Turning around, Rom kept his face hidden from view, "Also, I understand you have some history with both Grimm and Carol. It also doesn't help that they're acquainted with the infamous Sword Demon, Wilhelm van Astrea, or Trias as you knew him. Regardless, that doesn't mean you can shut yourself in this room forever. Like everyone else, you'll have to confront your past at some point."
Taking a deep breath, Rom exhaled. Whether he was relieved or agitated was unknown to me. But it was evident that he felt some type of way.
"I'm just surprised. I thought I could go on without anyone really knowing who I was. Should've known that everything would have caught up to me eventually," Rom grumbled.
"That's life, Rom. If it helps you to trust me, I don't plan on telling the others a single word about this. Other than Grimm and Carol that is," I stated.
"Are you wanting to get me killed?" Rom deadpanned.
"You'll be fine. Conversing with them should clear up the air," I added.
"Whatever you say. If I'm doing this then you better keep on helping Felt. Promise me that and I'll do what I can."
"I swear on my life."
The giant, whose past was filled with tragedies and neglect, slightly smiled to himself.
"Heh, works for me. Y're making me awfully curious, lad. What else do you know?" Rom eagerly asked.
"Whatever could you mean, I wonder? I'm just some lousy inventor," I smirked.
Our laughter then flushed out the tense atmosphere. He was well on his way in coming to terms with himself, his past, and making sure that he and his surrogate granddaughter were happy with their new lives.
Something I'd vow to ensure. No matter the cost.
After finishing my discussion with Rom, Felt and Reinhard rejoined us. Nothing of grave importance was covered, but I was content with their presence. Sadly, stalling would not yield me any results for my coming duel. Reinhard and I left the duo to their own devices and made our way outside the manor.
With dusk several hours away, there was enough time for me to train under the Master Swordsman's tutelage. Plus, the intense training would be an extremely beneficial experience given his Divine Protection of Training Mastery. But enduring it all came first before I could truly grasp what it meant to live by the sword.
Before sparring, he guided me through the basic fundamentals of swordsmanship: proper stances, coordination, and awareness. Brutally, I learned how vastly different the training was compared to my history in traditional jujutsu. The style of martial arts I'd learned proved only effective in countering combatants and utilizing some offensive strikes. To arm myself with a sword was rudely going against the teachings I had been forced to learn and abide by.
Be that as it may, the situation called for it.
"Maintain focus, Lord Sean. A sword is only as effective as the one who wields it."
"Geez, I'm doing my best here!"
"I'm glad to hear that." Reinhard snapped his fingers. "Enter the next stance."
"Got it!"
Increasing my repertoire of skills would benefit me in the long run. In just about an hour's time, Reinhard's assessment of my standing was no longer that of a novice. The realm of becoming an advanced beginner seemed to be within my grasp. Unfortunately, I could only proceed to the next stage of training until all that I learned was second nature.
If it weren't for my honed physique, I surely would have been exhausted. Reinhard was merciful enough to allow some periods of rest, but only briefly. During our breaks, he lectured me on the dos and don'ts of fighting. It seemed being tortured both physically and mentally was undoubtedly the norm for new knights.
By midafternoon, Reinhard deemed me ready and introduced the advanced lessons of swordsmanship. Utilizing everything I had been taught, these methods truly prepared a knight-in-training for battle. Defensive maneuvers such as blocking, parrying, and evasiveness were the main focus. He guided me through the movements at a snail's pace. Dialing it up a notch, the substantial increase in difficulty was baffling. Thankfully I was no stranger to negating incoming attacks.
However, shifting our attention to offensive maneuvers didn't go as smoothly. Due to my trained reflexes, I tried to negate whatever entered my proximity. Having to strike with a weapon and not my limbs felt entirely wrong.
"Try again, please," Reinhard instructed, nearly causing me to stumble.
"What?! I haven't even made a move yet," I complained.
"I realize that. The fact of the matter is that you hesitated in the midst of your strike."
"How?"
"You attempted to thrust your blade at me with both hands at the hilt." Slowly, his entire body shifted in place. The placement of his gloved hands mirrored my own, "Although, you let one hand go to extend your reach and altered your stance to compensate for that action," He elaborated.
"Shit. During all that I only did what I thought felt…right." I shrugged.
"Yes you did but it appears to be more to it than that. Whether you are aware of it or not, you're trying to incorporate snippets of martial arts into your movements." Reinhard smiled with a raised finger.
Old habits die hard.
"Oh…is that bad?" Apprehensive, I waited for his answer.
"Certainly if not done correctly. You've handled the defensive portion of our lessons with great stride. Yet it seems we have to apply much more attention to developing an offensive moveset catered to you. A whole new style, if you will," Reinhard stated, trying to ease my concerns. And yet I knew a much greater hurdle awaited me.
"Rein, you're gonna kill me at this rate."
"Forgive me if I have overexerted you, Lord Sean."
"Pfft, I've gone through worse." I boasted while popping my neck. Glaring at the wooden object in my hands, I gripped it firmly. "Using a sword and trying to force myself to attack is tough. It's like I'm literally fighting myself!"
"Is that how you feel? What I presume is the underlying factor to this issue is your view on what a sword is," Reinhard said.
"Other than being a pointy thing you can stab and swing with, there's not much else going for it. What are you trying to say exactly?" I asked.
Closing his eyes, his mouth curved upwards.
"What I mean is: that swords are not mere tools. In actuality, they're an extension of ourselves. A knight can only perform at their best when their blade is one with them." Reinhard enlightened me with a new perspective.
"Not a tool, huh?" I mused, brandishing the weapon once more.
"Let us resume where we left off. Creating your style will surely take much time and effort."
"Don't remind me."
Heeding my friend's wise words, I embraced failure. If I wanted to stand a chance against Heinkel, sparring against my knight was the only way. The reins then came off as we trained vigorously.
Tried as I might, he would defeat me with little to no effort. And yet, I didn't become discouraged.
Not one bit.
Occasionally, some familiar faces would stop by to spectate our bouts. Felt and Rom found it entertaining for a short while. Several servants would watch from within the manor while in the middle of their tasks. During one of our breaks, Kalifa offered us refreshments while Ilya was with her. She was also kind enough to soothe my aching muscles. Then, Grimm and Carol tended to the garden and oversaw a few matches with keen eyes. Both willingly shared their wisdom and experience when it was appropriate.
Hours passed and dusk had finally settled. Reinhard and I agreed to end the training there. It was not an exaggeration to say I was battered and bruised. With countless blisters on my palms and a growing soreness settled in unfamiliar places. Dust and grime littered my already distasteful attire as I sweated profusely. Without a doubt, it was the toughest and most overwhelming training. Period.
"Excellent work, Lord Sean. Your perseverance is admirable," Reinhard said, evidently untouched and unwinded. He went on and collected our wooden swords and smiled, "A trait many lack when tackling something challenging. It's clear to me that you are indeed an astounding individual."
"Enough with the flattery already. You and I both know that alone isn't going to help me against your father, " I replied dismissively.
"Then what do you believe it would take to even the odds?"
"I— I don't know."
Stumped. I glanced at the earth below me and ran a hand through my hair. For all my effort, did I truly stand a chance?
Heinkel Astrea possessed decades of experience to hone and refine his way with the sword. While I only had a day's time to absorb all the training I could. Even with the help of Reinhard, my doubtfulness persisted. Looming over me with its over cumbersome weight.
Truly a pointless endeavor.
"There never is a clear solution to situations such as this. Even so," Reinhard sat on the grass next to me, I believe you will determine the best course of action."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because I have faith in you." I stared at him in disbelief with my mouth agape. His azure eyes never turned away. "Though you've undoubtedly heard this many times by now, I believe you are destined for something great. All that you have done thus far has proved it so. In time, you will certainly become an individual who will influence the lives of many. And I will ensure that I will stand beside you throughout that journey."
His words, honest and sincere, shed away the layer of hopelessness that had steadily crept onto me. In all my life, no one ever had such absolute faith in me. Our heart-to-heart moment, while vulnerable for both of us, felt therapeutic in many ways than one.
"You do understand that I'm just one man, right? Having such high expectations and standards is suffocating enough. Someone like me will only leave you disappointed," I replied, dejected.
Then, Reinhard frowned, seemingly troubled with melancholy. Blinded by my selfishness I forgot to be considerate of his own pain. One we shared so deeply that others wouldn't even comprehend.
"Lord Sean, I am well aware of how you feel. Very much, I'm afraid."
"Right." I shamefully covered my eyes. "Out of everyone I know only you would. This world is truly a cruel place, huh?"
"It's a balance I'd say. The struggles and hardships we face are placed before us to strengthen and grow one's character. While moments of bliss and tranquility serve to soothe the anguish we've endured. Yes, the world may appear cruel at a first glance, we must ultimately uncover the beauty of it ourselves." Reinhard sighed and nodded his head sagely.
"Wise words. I'm not surprised that is how you feel. Maybe we'll both find this "beauty" ourselves."
"Suffice to say, I believe I already have." The redhead smiled brightly.
It didn't help that he looked at me with such gentle eyes.
"This conservation is starting to turn a little fruity. And what did I tell you about that 'lord' crap? You should know by now that I despise having that kind of title." Mildly shoving his shoulder we both giggled. "Thank you, Rein. I really needed to hear that from someone. Everything has been happening so fast that I can hardly process it all. I only hope that I do my best to respond accordingly," I admitted.
"Is that how you feel about tomorrow?" Reinhard inquired.
"Yeah. It's stressing me the hell out."
"I see. Then I believe your worries are for naught."
"Huh?!" I blurted out.
Had the Sword Saint become delusional?
"What I wanted to say is that you should not be discouraged. You may be frightened and alarmed, but you're reacting to such opposition with grit. Like with the Bowel Hunter, you're charging head forth with such fiery resolve. That is why I am certain you will do your best tomorrow. And this is all due to the fact that you are Sean Wang," He asserted.
'Damn, he just knows what to say, doesn't he?'
I shouldn't have been so befuddled by his declaration.
"I hope you're right. Even so, I'm still facing your dad. I can't imagine how conflicted you must feel. All I see when I look at Heinkel is a selfish, arrogant, and shameless man." I remarked.
"Indeed, but my father was never always like this," Reinhard sadly clarified.
Gazing at the remnants of light across the sky, fading ever so slowly. I clenched my palms into fists at what needed to be said next.
"I'm assuming this stemmed originally from his parents? And…your mother, right?"
His lack of a response said enough. The shattered Astrea family was a subject I knew well in detail. For the sake of our relationship, feigning some ignorance was necessary.
"All the troubles my family has faced are because of my own doing. Had I not become the Sword Saint, then all would be well," Reinhard murmured, looking so hollowed.
"You're wrong," I argued.
He deserved better.
Taken aback, Reinhard watched as I adjusted my glasses, "One way or another, the world deemed it so that you would take the mantle as the next Sword Saint. You aren't to blame for the death of your grandmother Theresia, or the departure of your grandfather Wilhelm, nor are you at fault for the troubles your parents have faced. To put simply, the world itself loves you all too well. I'd dare say you are the beauty it wishes to see grow," I stated.
"I never once saw it that way. Regardless, I only wish for my mother to awaken from her slumber. Maybe then my family's wounds can finally heal." His dispirited attitude vanished, leaving a determined knight standing on his own two feet. "Until then, I will eagerly dedicate my efforts to helping you, friend." Reinhard happily said.
"A simple thanks is all you needed to say." I grinned.
"Thank you, Sean."
"That's more like it." He offered his hand which I accepted. Turning to the manor we began to make our way towards it, "We have a big day tomorrow. So I'd appreciate it if you spilled the beans on everything about your dad. Oh, and I do mean everything."
"Of course."
Whether it was about Heinkel's mannerisms, tactics, styles, poor habits, and how Reinhard defeated him at the age of five, nothing was left out. Old and new intel was acceptable in my eyes. To increase my chances of beating the drunkard father, asking his son was the most optimal solution.
Progress was progress in a sense.
"What's that look for? Do I have something on my face?" Carol asked.
Her husband looked at her, mostly out of concern. She resumed her task of sweeping the floor of the main entrance of the manor. As Grimm halted his duty of checking the cleanliness of the staircase railing.
"..." But he kept his eyes on his wife with a straight face.
"Dear, I'm alright."
"..."
Unbeknownst to Carol, her husband knew it was just a front. He understood that her caring nature caused her to put others' worries before her own. Her noisy and overly aggressive sweeping was proof of that. Or simply the way she flicked her hair and continuously huffed.
His dear wife needed him.
"Okay. I'm not alright." Finally confessing, Carol weakly smiled.
The elderly couple then stood near the foot of the grand staircase. It all began as a simple inspection of the other servants' work. Yet, the silent husband was ever so perceptive of not only finding specks of leftover dust but also his disturbed wife.
"Lord Sean…will be…fine," Grimm told her with his strained voice.
"I'm sure he will be; however, I still cannot believe the gull of Lord Heinkel. Showcasing such disrespect towards Lord Sean will likely come with severe punishment," Carol stated.
"..." Curiously, the head butler merely shook his head. She then realized what exactly her husband was trying to convey when she said 'Ah'.
This was Sean Wang they were talking about.
"Yes, Lord Sean will likely overlook his actions. That is certainly what that young man will do. We can only hope that the two do not destroy each other." Carol placed a hand above her chest and sighed. "If only Lady Louanna was present, then maybe this could have been avoided."
"..." Grimm closed his eyes and nodded.
"There is nothing else we can do. We must remain neutral regardless of the results of their duel. The future of this kingdom will be determined at dawn."
The duo then carried out the rest of their duties. It wasn't their place to mend in the affairs of their lords. Their time had long passed to involve themselves in such trivial matters between clashing ideals.
They were just servants after all.
The next day, before his bout with Sean Wang—Heinkel felt oddly conflicted.
On the floor of their dimly lit room laid the troubled man. Yes, their room. The same room that contained his beloved comatose wife. His dear Louanna that he cherished more than anything in the world.
On the well-kept, carpeted surface is where he belonged. The grieving husband could not find the will nor the strength to lay next to his wife. He found it fitting to not disgrace her with his mourning. She didn't deserve to be burdened by his sorrows.
She didn't deserve to be bothered by anything.
And yet, that simple wish could not be granted. His innocent wife fell victim to the world's cruelty and hand of misfortune. At first, she merely said that she felt ill, but it became very clear that something was wrong with her. Her health only seemed to decline at an alarming rate. Then one day she never woke up again.
She became a sleeping beauty.
Heinkel wanted nothing more than to hear her sweet, delicate loving voice. To embrace her warmth as her arms wrapped around him. And to cherish her presence as she gave his life a purpose worth living for.
But her steady breathing and motionless figure never changed.
Uncorking a bottle, he drowned his agony and misery away. While only a temporary relief—alcohol had become a staple friend. A devastating habit no less but he made up for it by training each morning. It came to the point he could only function properly while under the influence. He was truly a drunkard through and through.
Not long ago, he was a disciplined and honorable man. A son, knight, husband, and father. He was once all those things. Those days seemed like distant memories now. Where his life, while not perfect, was much more tolerable than the wretched present he was made to endure. Heinkel wanted to blame his father who had forsaken him, his monster of a son, and the late holder of the title "Blue", Galic Fabless, who could not save his wife.
No, he could not place the blame on anyone but himself. Not when he failed everyone he held dear.
"Where did I go wrong, Louanna?" Heinkel inconsolably asked.
"..." He was met with usual silence.
He struggled to pick himself off the floor and kneeled against his sleeping wife's bedside. With his arms and head sprawled across the sheets, he wanted nothing more than for her to comfort his soul. Yet he could only hear the resounding sins and wrongdoings he committed.
"Are you upset at what I've become? Are you not angry at the treatment I've done to our boy?"
"..."
"I don't deserve to be your husband. You were always so full of joy and sincerity." Clutching the soft fabric, he grinded his teeth as his vision watered. "I've done everything I can so far to bring you back—but nothing has worked! I don't want you to stay like this forever."
"..."
"I know I can't be forgiven. I could care less if everyone despised me for the rest of my miserable life. That's fine with me. But, damned as I may be, your belief in me is all that I cared about. No matter what, I will do whatever it takes to save you," Heinkel proclaimed, wiping his disheveled face.
"..." The Sleeping Beauty continued to lay frozen in place.
Deep down, Heinkel believed his beloved had heard him. Because he knew she loved him just as much as he did.
Standing once again, he retrieved his holy sword and scabbard. Heinkel bowed his head and looked at his wife, "I must leave you, my dear, to duel a young man. While he may possess the title of a Royal Candidate, I cannot allow him to disrupt all that I have done thus far. So please, give me the strength I need for what I am about to do." The troubled husband begged.
Ensuring that his wife's space was returned to the state it once was, he opened the door allowing a ray of light to enter. Just as he was about to shut the ajar door, he glanced at his beloved one more.
"I love you, Louanna."
Darkness filled the room once again.
I knew I couldn't stay in the land of dreams forever. That was made clear when several knocks on my door startled me. With a sluggish pace that would even impress Sekhmet, I let in the individual who was gracious enough to have awakened me.
To my surprise, it was Kalifa and her adorable ankle-biter, Ilya.
In her hands was a crisp black two-piece suit, suspenders, and waxed dress shoes to match. A plain choice in terms of a suit, but it would certainly suffice. Reinhard likely played some part in acquiring the new set of threads.
Before I could express my thanks, the maid and the child stayed in the room. Tried as I might, Kalifa made it very clear with her assertive look that she was not leaving. Her slender hands then briskly touched my robe, indicating that she was there to assist me in getting dressed. I vehemently explained to her that as a man I could dress myself, but she pressed on. She was wholeheartedly adamant in carrying out her duties as a maid. All the while Ilya watched gleefully and clapped as a beautiful woman clothed me.
While many men would be envious of such a thing, the action was truly unnecessary. The coat was the last piece needed to complete my attire. Although, I let her know that I would go on without it. I opted to simply roll my sleeves to a tight, even cuff. We soon left to not keep the others waiting.
Marching down the familiar halls, the unsettling and daunting reality of my situation was apparent. A sinking feeling of dread made me entirely cold and numb. Even worse, my chest pounded relentlessly like a beating drum. I had to do what I agreed to and trained so desperately for.
Not only for my sake but for the others as well.
Reaching the ground floor, we were greeted by our supportive group of friends. All of them, regardless of how they felt, were present for such a crucial moment. But I sensed Rom's uneasiness from the hardened gaze of Grimm and Carol. Though it was brief, Felt and Reinhard knew something was there between the three elders.
The time and place to address the hostility of the veterans would have to wait. Heinkel Astrea was my main objective.
Together, we exited to the rear of the manor. Following the various paths of the Astrea garden, we eventually reached an opening wide enough to hold a duel. It had been the same place Reinhard had taken me to train. Within that section stood a lone man with his back against us.
Shifting in place, the Deputy Commander seemed composed and ready. Though his azure orbs were brimming with determination.
"Just in time, Lord Sean. For a moment, I thought you wouldn't show," Heinkel chided, crossing his arms.
"Hmph. I'll have you know that I'm a man of my word. It would've been disgraceful if I surrendered and ran," I calmly retorted. The man before me smirked with anticipation and malice.
"Yes, that you have. Why don't you say we hurry and get this match underway?"
"Agreed."
Distancing ourselves a fair amount, one particular servant stepped away from the group. Said servant was none other than Carol Remendis. Carrying two wooden swords, she presented one to her lord and the other to me.
When it seemed she was going to return to her original place, I heard her whisper under her breath.
"Good luck, Lord Sean."
I understood she could not say much more in front of Heinkel. Her kind words would not go to waste.
Clearing her throat, the head maid spoke aloud, "I, Carol Remendis, will hereby serve as the official moderator for this duel. Do either of the participants or those in the audience object to this?" Hearing no objection to what she said, she resumed, "As per what was agreed upon: the first participant to land three hits on their opponent will be declared the winner. After each strike, a point is earned and both participants will reset to their respective sides. Furthermore, the use of deadly force, underhanded tactics, and magic arts are strictly prohibited. Please adhere to the proper etiquette that is expected of those involved in a duel. Are there any questions?" Carol queried.
Both of us merely shook our heads.
With grace, Heinkel dropped into a stance that I knew all too well. Reinhard displayed the same motion throughout our many spars. It was the Astreas' unique style in the art of swordplay. However, compared to his son who held himself stiff and precise, the father seemed loose and refined. Just by how he wielded his weapon with familiarity proved his skill even more.
As for myself, I simply bent my knees and held the wooden sword diagonally in one hand. My free hand remained on my side if the opportunity to grapple my opponent presented itself. Unfortunately, the form was nothing special, nor was it entirely proper. By incorporating a bit of my fighting style with the common stance for beginners, a hybrid of the two arts was born. I had to thank my knight for helping me in accomplishing such a feat.
Still, I knew samurais would not approve of this.
"Now then, it is time to commence the match. Ready. Set," Carol's outstretched arm was raised above her. Similar to that of an overly sharp blade, her hand seemed to cut the very air itself with ease when she brought it back down.
'Here goes nothing.'
Following after her action was a roar that tingled every strand of hair I had upright. Incidentally, Heinkel and I couldn't help but tense and grin to ourselves, "ON GUARD!"
The fight for our future had begun.
AN: Arc 2, Ch 2 is done! Who do you think will win this duel? Will Sean's resolve be enough to beat that of the Deputy Commander? Or will the Astrea patriarch prove to be too much for the lucky fool? Find out in the next chapter!
Also, sorry that this wasn't necessarily the duel itself, but the build-up beforehand. Still, this presented a great way to start the development of some of the characters. I only hope you find some interest in said progression.
I expect the next update will cover the results of their duel. After that, you'll have to find out what I have in store for Arc 2. I planned to release two chapters in June, but that didn't happen lol. Maybe July will be different?
I wanted to post this on July 4th. Yet I ended up not doing that. The reason being is because that is Sean's birthday! No omake this time but just wish him a late happy bday. Maybe I'll do one for Felt on her "birthday"?
Remember to favorite and follow the story. Oh and leave reviews :)
Shoutout to Speedcar and PoliticianSeal for being awesome betas!
Till next time!
PS: Did you see the new cover image? Tell me what you think about it! Hugs and kisses to CinnDvl.