Chapter 22: Useless Moritz (2)

“No way! Is that really true?”

Returning to his room, Moritz heard unbelievable news from his escort knight, Hendrick.

“Yes… According to the lower-ranking knights who were guarding Young Master Richard, they say he defeated the undead while radiating a brilliant aura.”

That scoundrel?

If the knights truly said that, they must have been high on something.

“What do you mean, ‘brilliant aura’? Mana? You’re not talking about a mana attribute, are you?”

Unease flickered in Moritz’s eyes.

A mana attribute? That’s a blessing that gives the bearer a massive advantage.

If that rumor were true, he realized his position could be in danger.

The Bartenberg family was strictly meritocratic.

The capable were elevated, and the useless eliminated—it was a cold-blooded house.

“Don’t worry too much, sir,” Hendrick gently reassured him.

“Isn’t it likely that Young Master Richard exaggerated his deeds and made the knights spread such tales?”

If his master, Moritz, was shaken like this, it would trouble Hendrick as well.

So he decided to disparage Richard.

“You know all too well about Young Master Richard. He has mana insensitivity. How could he possibly use mana?”

“R-right! Mana insensitivity!”

Only then did Moritz recall one important fact: Richard’s condition.

“Haha! I can’t believe I forgot that!”

He never believed Richard had recovered from mana insensitivity.

It was practically an incurable curse.

“This is crazy. Did his knights really take something? That guy, with radiant mana? Absurd!”

“I don’t get it either. Why would the knights say something like that…”

Hendrick remembered the lower-ranking knight who’d told him the story.

‘He’s not the type to lie… Still, no way. Saying Richard fought the undead with mana is completely ridiculous.’

He wanted to question the knight more, but for some reason, the man clammed up after that.

“I really don’t like that bastard lately. Richard, of all people, acting so arrogant!”

Moritz began ranting nonstop about Richard.

Hendrick, seemingly used to this, played along expertly.

Then he made a suggestion.

“Then why not clearly reestablish the hierarchy, sir?”

A rather bold statement from just an escort knight.

No matter how it looked, Richard was still a noble.

But between Moritz and Richard, Richard was treated worse than a servant.

“It’s been a while since you’ve spoken with Young Master Richard, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s true. I have neglected my younger brother. I should’ve been putting him in his place regularly.”

Moritz recalled a recent event:

The day Richard humiliated him in the training ground.

All those knights’ gazes—how utterly disgraceful they’d been.

His teeth ground unconsciously.

“I need to make him kneel in front of everyone this time.”

He also didn’t like the subtle air between the family head and Richard at the dining hall.

This was the perfect chance to stomp him down.

If he humiliated Richard enough, their father would surely lose interest again.

Moritz stood up, determination in his eyes.

***

“C-can I really train here…?”

Aaron asked, eyes damp as if he were deeply moved.

If he’s that thankful, how about praying to me once in a while?

I remembered how coldly Aaron had rejected me yesterday, sternly shaking his head.

“Yeah, I said it’s fine.”

I casually replied, stretching out.

Getting permission from the family head to use the private training ground was a great decision.

This place was way better than the noisy, smelly shared one.

The desire to train surged naturally.

What the hell did ‘Richard’ do to get banned from using this place in the first place?

A few guesses came to mind, which I quickly brushed aside.

No use dwelling on the past—I’ve got permission now.

“See? Way better than that sweaty, loud public training area, right?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Thankfully, Aaron seemed to like it too.

We quickly warmed up and began serious training.

“Huuh…!”

My practice sword sliced sharply through the air.

The real combat in Snowfall had clearly helped me grow.

Even by my own judgment, my swordplay had improved significantly.

‘At this rate…’

My swordsmanship proficiency would rise soon.

We trained for a while.

Then Aaron, who had been practicing with his spear, spoke up.

“Young master, if it’s alright… may I challenge you to a duel?”

“Oh!”

Now that was a welcome surprise.

I’d already been thinking that normal training wasn’t cutting it.

“Handicap?”

“I don’t need one. Please go all out.”

Aaron’s eyes burned with intensity.

Uh… excuse me, I’m the one who should be asking that.

“What are you saying? How could I beat you without a handicap?”

“Young master, what are you talking about? You’re someone who can even use aura…”

“Aura?”

Oh right—Aaron was still under that big misunderstanding.

When I fought Serwang and poured all my faith into Ice Crescendo, he mistook it for aura.

I tried explaining it wasn’t, but he never seemed convinced.

I was wondering how to clear up the confusion—

When suddenly, I felt several presences approaching.

“Richard!”

“Moritz?”

That useless brother of mine showed up with a whole squad of knights.

He scowled when he heard me mutter his name.

“How rude. You don’t even call me ‘brother’ anymore?”

“Why are you even here? This is my private training ground.”

I didn’t like this.

I had just gotten this space, and now all these uninvited guests were crowding it.

The knights avoided my gaze—some familiar, some strangers.

Moritz must’ve summoned every knight he could find.

“I brought them,” Moritz announced.

His menacing attitude made his intention clear.

He planned to humiliate me in front of them all.

“Richard. It’s been a while—this older brother will guide you again.”

The way he tried to act all grand was just laughable.

Why is he so clumsy no matter what he does?

“Handicap?”

I asked him the same thing I had asked Aaron.

“Hah! Are you scared? If you’ve got Bartenberg blood, face me proudly!”

“You do realize how ridiculous this looks, right?”

He’s challenging me—a guy who hasn’t even held a sword for three months.

As I retorted, Moritz’s face flushed bright red.

He couldn’t back down now.

His pride was on the line.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized:

Maybe I didn’t even need a handicap.

He seemed weak.

Moritz Bartenberg.

He was considered talented, sure—but he hadn’t reached his full potential yet.

And he had a major weakness.

He’d definitely be easier than Aaron.

Confidence, baseless or not, welled up inside me.

“Fine. If you’re that scared, I guess I’ll go easy on you,” Moritz growled.

I made up my mind.

“I’ll give you five mo—”

“Forget it.”

Dozens of eyes were watching us.

I smiled.

Moritz had set the stage perfectly.

“I don’t think I need it. Come at me.”

I’d been meaning to crush him someday anyway.

“Y-you little…!”

Furious, Moritz lunged.

Aaron flinched, but I raised my practice sword calmly.

Clang!

Our swords clashed in the center of the arena, sparks flying everywhere.

We pushed against each other, locked blades.

Moritz’s eyes were filled with fury.

The sheer pressure cracked the dirt beneath us.

My feet started to slide back.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up!”

With full force, Moritz shoved me back and tried to assert dominance.

He still saw me as the cowardly Richard, apparently.

I breathed slowly, never taking my eyes off him.

No crown or cloak—no artifacts either.

Any cheating would just get me accused of unfairness.

I dodged his next slash aimed at my head. No chance to counterattack yet.

Moritz’s sword style was fast and aggressive.

His thin practice sword sliced through the air non-stop.

If he gained control of the rhythm, I’d lose after a prolonged defense.

They said he was skilled enough to fight a mid-level knight to a draw…

Maybe that wasn’t just a rumor.

Still…

This isn’t so bad.

His fast slashes were threatening but not invisible.

The Death Knight’s greatsword had been way faster.

Clang, clang!

I dodged what I could, parried the rest.

“Moritz.”

“Huh?!”

He glared at me, swinging wildly.

That menacing aura—just like our father’s.

Too bad that’s all he inherited.

He had a slightly upturned nose and protruding fangs.

If I exaggerated a bit, he looked more like an orc than a human.

“Calm down. You’re acting like an orc.”

That… was Moritz’s biggest insecurity.

His siblings were all good-looking—he wasn’t.

Maybe that’s why he bullied Richard so much.

“You… you bastard…!”

Bingo.

He lost his temper.

His sword strikes, which had been aimed precisely, started to waver.

[Skill activated – Hyperfocus.]

Meanwhile, my mind sharpened like a blade.