Chapter 72: Count Raoul

The second day of the ball.

Isabelle and Glenn immediately began executing their plan in earnest. As soon as they confirmed Raoul’s location, they deliberately loitered nearby.

They didn’t forget the smoke signal Isabelle had requested.

“J-just a moment, Prince.”

In fact, the signal was simple enough that it didn’t require much effort.

While walking around, Glenn would subtly tug on Isabelle’s arm or waist, giving off a slightly forceful impression to onlookers.

Originally, Isabelle wanted to take it as far as exchanging lines, but Glenn firmly refused, saying he absolutely wouldn’t go that far.

Still, it didn’t matter much.

“Alright, I’ll try to avoid dancing with other men as much as possible today.”

It was as if Glenn had warned her, judging by her reaction. She then put on an expression of embarrassment and circled around the area.

“Oh my, Prince, you’re surprisingly possessive despite your appearance.”

“That’s understandable—your partner is a royal flower of the kingdom. How could you not feel that way?”

The reactions from those nearby were quite explosive—just as Isabelle had intended.

Sister-in-law.

“…Tch.”

But Glenn wore a displeased expression.

As he had mentioned before, he wasn’t one to enjoy such clownish antics.

“So, could you please let me go now?”

At the slight angle where Glenn’s face was visible, the corner of her mouth twitched.

Right now, she was enjoying his displeased reaction.

“…Is that so?”

Someone shot an intense glare.

When Glenn turned his head slightly, his eyes met those of Count Raoul, who had been glaring since earlier.

Snap.

It was a look that could kill a man.

Raoul was shooting Glenn a very fierce glare.

Was he just a simple man?

Or was it that Isabelle’s scheme was truly brilliant?

Well, in any case, since it was well received, it didn’t matter.

Glenn smirked slightly and moved on.

The bait was ready.

Now, all that was left was to wait.

***

While exchanging greetings with other nobles, Raoul actually came looking for Glenn.

“Oh? So you’re the famous ‘Red Wolf,’ huh? Pleasure to meet you—ha ha.”

His voice was quite loud, as if he was speaking to others nearby. Though his tone was somewhat friendly, his glaring eyes still brimmed with hostility.

“Excuse me, but who exactly are you?”

Squirm.

Of course, he knew who Glenn was.

He had been investigating this person for the past few days and could recognize him just by his silhouette.

But it was better to pretend ignorance to provoke Raoul.

“Ha—Raoul Nerbourg, huh? The sword guarding the outskirts of Arian.”

“Oh, I see. My apologies.”

“That’s alright. But, tell me, are those ridiculous titles really true?”

His method of provocation was utterly cheap.

Fortunately, this meant the plan could proceed more smoothly than expected.

“Calm down, but your tone is a bit rude.”

“Hm? Ah, what do you mean? I’m older than you and a senior knight as well. I just spoke casually, so please forgive me.”

Even his apology sounded more like condescension.

This guy’s interesting—Glenn smirked slightly.

“A senior? That’s not really a fitting title. As I said, we’re strangers.”

“Hmph, enough of this nitpicking. Let’s talk. ‘Devil of the Manor,’ ‘Dissector,’ ‘Niran’s Butcher’… Aren’t those all terrifying titles? And they’re all supposed to refer to you?”

He had heard that Glenn was a newly appointed official knight. Last year, he was said to have been a reckless troublemaker—but what were these arrogant titles?

Surely his achievements were exaggerated or rumors had blown out of proportion.

Raoul firmly believed so. Such things were common among the nobility.

“Hmm—curious, are you?”

“Yes, I must hear the truth.”

Glenn took a few steps closer and whispered right beside Raoul.

Filled with cold murderous intent, speaking as quietly as possible.

“The title ‘Butcher’ is no mere nickname. It’s also my specialty, especially when dealing with people. And usually—when I show my specialty to people like you, they quickly quiet down.”

“W-what!”

Startled by the murderous aura, Raoul frowned.

“Cowards like you are all talk and no action, aren’t you?”

“Who is this insolent brat speaking to!”

When Count Raoul roared, the eyes of the surrounding nobles immediately focused on them.

“What’s going on? Are Count Raoul and Prince Glenn fighting?”

“They’re both knights. Could it be a duel?”

Raoul glanced at Glenn with a thin smile.

That actually worked out better—Glenn thought.

“This insolent barbarian dared insult me! And this one is a despicable man even intimidating Princess Isabelle of Arian!”

He waved his arms around as if giving a speech to those nearby.

“Therefore, Raoul Nerbourg, second son of the Nerbourg family, the sword of Ariane, hereby challenges Prince Glenn Lepent to a duel! If you’re a man, don’t back down!”

His armored gauntlet slammed down by his foot.

Glenn slowly picked up the gauntlet, locking eyes with Isabelle, who was watching from the other side.

“What a pathetic provocation.”

“You are now refusing my duel—”

As the red banner nodded, Glenn also nodded slightly.

Only then did he turn to Raoul and continue.

“No, I am Ron Glenn Lepent of House Lepent. I accept your duel.”

***

Duels among nobles at balls are quite common. Perhaps inevitably so, since gatherings of proud individuals often lead to clashes.

Thus, such duels are treated as entertaining events.

Since no matter who wins, no one’s life is actually at stake, those involved are well aware that these are more like performances than real fights.

“Understand? No killing allowed. And if possible, win with grace and dignity. Got it?”

At Isabelle’s words, Glenn frowned deeply.

What kind of nonsense was this?

“…With dignity?”

“Yes. Surely you don’t intend to kill anyone at a ball? Otherwise, all the image you’ve built up so far, Prince, would be ruined.”

Originally, Glenn had been the one to propose the duel.

But the duel he knew was very different.

“…Understood.”

He was displeased—no, to be honest, annoyed.

In the principality, duels between knights always ended in life or death. Unless in extremely rare cases, someone had to die or be seriously maimed.

In other words, the duels in the Lepent Principality were sacred rites risking each other’s lives.

But Ariane was different.

Here, knightly duels were more like sports or theater. There was no real reason to risk one’s life.

“Why are you uncomfortable? Is there something bothering you?”

“The meaning of duels is very different here.”

“This is Ariane. And the prince is now living among Ariane’s nobles. You understand what I mean, right?”

Isabelle asked Glenn again, seeing his expression grow involuntarily uneasy.

Unintentionally, she had witnessed Glenn’s duels twice already. She knew well how serious and ruthless he was in a fight.

If that attitude showed here among these young nobles and aristocrats?

Not as a joke—he might really cause a scandal.

“I understand. I’ll try my best.”

“…My father even signed a certificate stating this. Absolutely no killing. Under any circumstances.”

As news of the duel between Count Raoul and Glenn spread through the ballroom, surprisingly, Contrat also reacted.

He offered to oversee the duel on behalf of the royal family and even sign a certificate for the result.

The matter had grown far bigger than expected, and of course, both agreed.

From Raoul’s perspective, there was no way back. He had never even considered the possibility of losing.

Glenn felt the same.

“Ah, no losing either. Got it?”

“Don’t worry.”

With a casual tone, Glenn headed quickly toward the hastily arranged dueling ground. Raoul was already preparing there, and when he saw Isabelle, he raised his sword and shouted,

“Princess Isabelle! I will surely win for you!”

His eyes were determined, as if prepared to die, but Isabelle no longer cared about him.

By the time the duel was set, Raoul had already put too much on the line.

Swish—

“Begin.”

Green eyes flashed fiercely.

***

“Who do you think will win?”

“I heard that the man named Glenn just became an official knight. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Raoul is an expert knight in border defense, though.”

The murmurs around were full of anticipation.

Their eyes sparkled, ready to enjoy the drama.

…Honestly, Glenn wasn’t pleased.

This was no duel—it was an act, a play.

Glenn told himself this as the duel began.

“Ha—rookie, you’re lucky you didn’t mess this up. That’s commendable!”

Raoul spoke theatrically, pretending to be relaxed.

…Wasn’t he more actor than knight?

The moment Glenn took a step forward.

Wham!

Raoul charged first.

His strike was fairly heavy but too predictable.

A classic approach of a paper knight.

“Hgh!”

Ching! Chang!

They exchanged a few more blows.

The duel’s unexpectedly high level made the surrounding nobles respond enthusiastically.

“Wow, wow—that’s a high-level knightly duel.”

“Prince Glenn is holding up better than expected.”

Their gazes toward Glenn mixed hope and worry.

Most nobles here had never actually seen him fight.

“Not bad, rookie of Lepent!”

…That’s too rustic to hear.

Every cheap line made him feel low quality.

Naturally, his eyebrows knitted in displeasure.

That should be enough.

He didn’t want to be part of this clown show any longer.

“Hey, Raoul, was it? You’d make a better actor than a knight.”

“What did you say! You—”

Contrary to his earlier demeanor, Glenn suddenly lunged like a wild animal.

Raoul barely reacted and blocked the incoming blade.

“What the—”

Surprisingly, Glenn dropped his sword the moment it was parried.

Thanks to that, Raoul’s body was pushed forward, and Glenn immediately tripped him.

Thud!

“Curse you—such cowardice!”

Dropping the sword in a duel?

Almost unheard of in Ariane’s duels.

Regardless, Glenn immediately went into grappling.

He grabbed one of Raoul’s arms and mercilessly twisted it.

Crack!

“Ahhh!”

Raoul’s agonized scream filled the courtyard with a chill.

The vivid scene made the surrounding nobles’ expressions harden.

He was far crueler than they had imagined.

Glenn stood up and looked down coldly.

Then, grabbing the sword by Raoul’s head, he forcibly lifted his chin.

“Will you surrender?”

“Ugh, how dare you, filthy barbarian—ugh!”

Smack!

“Too talkative.”

He slammed Raoul’s head onto the ground.

“dubb?”

“Cough—coward…”

Smack!

His face hit the floor again.

This grim scene repeated several times.

Smack! Crack!

By now, Raoul’s face was covered in blood and dirt. Several teeth had been knocked out, and his unfocused eyes looked quite abnormal.

“Grrrk…”

“Th-that…”

“Isn’t this too brutal?”

The spectators’ expressions gradually turned pale.

It was because this was so different from the duels they knew.

In response to the surrounding reactions, Glenn felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

“I could do this all day. How about it?”

Even if it meant until you died.

Honor, etiquette—it all meant nothing.

By any means necessary, he would break the opponent before him and crush his spirit.

Yes, this was the Lepent way.

“Enough! That’s enough.”

Contrat, sensing Glenn’s fierce gaze, quickly intervened.

The hand reaching for Raoul’s head sword froze.

“Count Raoul is unable to continue fighting. Therefore, this duel is a victory for Sir Glenn.”

So, stop here.

The eyes Contrat met conveyed that message.

Glenn clicked his tongue in displeasure and released the sword from the count’s head.

The duel ended abruptly without the consent of the participants—a method far removed from the principality’s.

“Ugh.”

“What kind of look is that—?”

Glances full of fear and discomfort caught his eye.

None of it was to his liking.

He was thoroughly annoyed.