Masterpiece

The rhythmic, emotive voice echoed in every ear.
He briefly told the story of Romeo and Juliet.

From star-crossed lovers of feuding families—
To tragic misunderstandings leading to double suicide—
Their deaths finally ending the family feud.

A classic was a classic. During his telling—no one interrupted.

The entire deck fell silent, even patrolling Dragoncleaver Guards drawn in.

All listened, entranced.

When he reached the scene where Juliet awakens to find Romeo dead by poison—several noble ladies’ eyes turned red.

“Now—listen to Romeo’s confession as he leaps over the garden wall to Juliet.”

Black’s voice grew solemn—reciting the timeless poem:

“With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out;
And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
If they do see thee, they will murder thee:
Yea, kill thee, rather than thou shouldst disdain
To die for want of love. Love gave me means
And I have found it. I am no pilot; yet,
Were you as far as is the uttermost
Pole from this earth, I’d sail to find you out.”

When he finished—the entire hall froze.

Many noble men stared wide-eyed, mouths agape—as if seeing the tragic lovers before them.

Most noble women had tears streaming down—large drops falling silently, soft sobs echoing.

This was the power of a classic—unbeatable, even in another world.

Black scanned the crowd—faces of those he knew were priceless.

Elaina, the little glutton, was frozen—fork suspended mid-air.
Her pudding—half-eaten—dripped with tears. Salty now, probably.

Krystin unconsciously clenched her skirt, lips tightly pressed, eyes red and pitiful.

Alice didn’t cry—but her dazed, distant expression showed the poem had shaken her deeply.

Maid Karina wept openly—tears like rain.

Sigh. Women are so emotional.

Just as Black mentally mocked—
he saw Lord Lambert wiping tears too.

Wait… seriously? You’re old!

“Such a story! Such a poem! Never have I heard such a heart-wrenching, unforgettable tale of love!”

Lambert sobbed—his wrinkled face twisted in sorrow.

“Seth’s poem was a gilded toy sword—flashy but weightless!”
“Yours is a blood-stained cross spear—each word crushing hearts!”

Lambert passionately declared his verdict!

The hall erupted into thunderous applause!

Except for those who hated Black—everyone else clapped sincerely.

Other elderly dukes closed their eyes, sighing:
“This poem… carries the weight of a soul.”

This wasn’t just “excellent“—excellence couldn’t describe it!

Only Seth was utterly shattered.

“This… impossible!”

His face had never been so livid.

“You—a pirate—how could you know this?! You copied it!”

Black expected this—smirked coldly:

“Then tell me, Lord Seth—have you seen this poem in the Dragonheart literary world?”
“Or… need I copy another one on the spot?”

The crowd erupted. Of course—the Empire’s literary scene had nothing like this!
And a poem with a tragic love story? Unheard of!

Poem + story = unstoppable combo.
It could dominate the literary world!

Seth, challenged like this—no matter how angry—had no words.
He knew poetry somewhat—and never imagined Black could create such a masterpiece.

“Now—judges, your evaluation.”

Duke Gran said, highly entertained. This Literary Duel exceeded expectations.
These youths were one after another, exceptional.
Even he had to admire Black’s poem.

“Excellent? No—Masterpiece!”

Led by Lambert—all judges unanimously rated it a Masterpiece.
They ignored Seth completely.

To these elders—even offending a Duke—could not bury such a work.

With Black’s poem standing tall—no one dared step forward.

He naturally won the Literary Duel!

Returning to Alice—Black noticed her gaze was… odd.

As if it held admiration.

He thought he was imagining it. How could this villainess admire him?

“Good poem.”
“I underestimated you.”

Hearing praise from Alice—Black was shocked.

What? First time she’s said something nice!
Before—she’d either threaten to cut him or punish him with no food.

“Your Highness—what did you say? Could you repeat it?”

Black shamelessly perked up his ears.

“… …”

Alice was speechless—refused to answer.

After the Literary Duel—came the Martial Duel!

This would be much purer than literature.

No frills. Just pure fighting.
No chance for substitutes.

Either crush others with strength—or be crushed.

And the Martial Duel had a special rule:

Anyone who entered could challenge anyone present!

Whether the other accepted? Up to them.

But once challenged—it was an insult. Refusing meant surrender.

So the Martial Duel often became a stage for nobles to settle grudges.

Of course—fighting was to the point of submission only. No killing allowed.

“Now—among all young people here, Seth is the strongest.”
“He won’t miss this chance—he’ll challenge us.”
“But at Level 45 Mid-Tier Knight—he’s too proud to fight you. He’ll target me.”
“Unfortunately—I’m no match. Likely, he’ll win. But we still have a chance in the Dragon Duel. Losing one is fine.”

Alice gently touched her red longsword—voice calm.

But Black sensed the resentment beneath.

Of course—Alice was proud. Admitting defeat to a madman? Natural to feel不甘.

But…

Black wondered—would Seth really ignore him?