The Price of Ambition and an Unexpected Assault

With a sharp clatter, the iron sword was effortlessly sent flying several meters away, and in fewer than ten rounds, Zadi Allekas, previously invincible, suffered a resounding defeat.

Initially, the other noble youths gathered around had anticipated more entertainment at Daniel’s expense.

However, upon witnessing the faint blue radiance swirling around the sword, they all fell silent, their previous eagerness quelled.

A profound quiet settled over the arena.

Clap, clap, clap. The first applause erupted from the stands, followed swiftly by a second, then a third, and more.

That the Cavendish family’s second son could now wield sword qi was truly a momentous occasion, worthy of celebration!

The ability to wield sword qi signified crossing the threshold into transcendent swordsmanship, promising rapid advancement and unparalleled success in their future endeavors.

Based on the average capabilities of noble youths in the Norman Empire, mastering sword qi was typically an achievement reserved for after they reached eighteen years of age, and some with lesser talent might never even glimpse the threshold in their entire lives.

Prior to adulthood, the standard for cultivating non-heir apparent children was largely laissez-faire.

It was perfectly normal for them to be a bit unruly, perhaps even to playfully tease young ladies.

Who among them, after all, was like Marin, seemingly hell-bent on raising a household head who would dominate every aspect of his child’s life?

Setting aside the long-standing tradition of primogeniture, had he ever considered granting his second son a joyful childhood?

No, he had not; he was solely concerned with himself.

“Did you see that? That’s Cavendish.”

A baron, standing below, whispered quietly into his son’s ear.

Marin, observing from the high platform, scoffed inwardly.

‘Ah, yes, that’s Cavendish for you. Reputation is paramount, and it’s earned through one’s own efforts. When will these minor nobles finally understand that many things are not simply given, but are rather a consequence of their own lack of ambition?’

He didn’t need to strain to hear; he knew precisely how the crowd below would react.

He then slowly refilled a stemmed glass, savoring his red wine, his peripheral vision catching his son’s dazzling figure in the arena.

“Let’s drink a little more today,” he mused, a rare, faint smile gracing his usually stern face.

After several consecutive matches, Daniel emerged victorious in every single one.

Seeing their fellow challengers repeatedly fall, the other disgruntled noble youths in the audience tempered their competitive spirit, realizing they faced a formidable opponent.

“Tch, he won again.”

“What does he go off to do after each match, wipe sweat?”

“That little servant who hands him the towel is really pretty, but why are they wearing a male servant’s uniform? Is that the latest trend?”

“Could this be a ‘comfort training’ method? If I had a servant watching my handsome posture while I practiced swordplay, and then I could flirt with them afterward, my swordsmanship wouldn’t be any worse than his!”

“Brother, what are you dreaming about? Where would you find a servant like that? They’re fairer and prettier than any young lady in the gardens, and only the Cavendish family has the means to procure such a fine person.”

“Heh, if they were a s*ave…”

“Watch your tongue! Let’s all pretend we didn’t hear that. Brother, that word is absolutely forbidden. Haven’t you heard from your elders how many people have lost their heads over it?”

“I’m going to be a marquis! What’s wrong with saying it? Who has the power to cut off my head?!”

The boy who had just spoken silently gestured with his chin towards Daniel’s resting spot.

“They do, that’s who. What, are you going to go up and challenge Cavendish?”

Upon hearing this, the future marquis instantly froze, resembling nothing so much as a comical penguin.

Daniel, who had returned to the arena with flushed cheeks and a triumphant smile, now appeared in his eyes as nothing less than a cruel executioner.

“Are you done fighting?”

Rhine handed a fresh handkerchief to the sweating Daniel.

“Hmm, how many matches did I fight?”

“Eight.”

“So, how was I out there? Was I cool?”

“Passable, I suppose.”

Rhine disdainfully took the sweat-soaked handkerchief, noting Daniel’s somewhat unsteady gait.

“You didn’t need to force yourself. You could have come down after the seventh match. You’d still have won, and losing one less fight wouldn’t cost you anything.”

“I… I just wanted to prove…”

“Alright, alright, you’ve proven your point. No need to report to me.”

“You said… I just wanted to… Never mind.”

Rhine glanced at Daniel’s bashful expression.

‘Honestly, I can’t fathom these young people nowadays. They’re embarrassed when they lose and shy when they win. Why must they be so troublesome?’

“Come on, Young Master, let’s go report to your good father first. Given his perpetually grim expression, one could only wonder if his smile truly resembled that of a toad.”

Daniel couldn’t help but connect the stoic Marin with a toad, and burst into a fit of laughter.

‘No, this thought is truly wicked. Father… please forgive my disrespect.’

As they stepped into the long waiting corridor, their spirits light and cheerful, two hooded figures approached from the opposite direction.

Rhine, being experienced, instinctively slowed his pace; a sense of unease prickled him.

‘This is a swordsmanship venue. Why are they here without armor? Their faces are deeply hidden, their steps are quick, and their right hands are tucked into their pockets as if grasping something. This technique… No! They aren’t here for the competition…’

The leading hooded figure made the first move, pulling a —

Rhine didn’t need to think; it was a magic staff.

“Get back!”

The tip of the staff suddenly flared, and a crimson orb of light shot directly towards Daniel’s face.

It was only by Rhine’s forceful shove that Daniel narrowly avoided it.

It was a Tier 2 spell, a Mana Scarlet Bolt, capable of exploding an adult’s head.

“Quick reflexes!”

The second hooded figure, following behind, barked, then cast the same spell at the already unsteady Daniel, aiming for a fatal blow.

The icy breath of death assailed him.

Daniel, utterly unacquainted with such a dire situation, found his already sluggish body even less capable of evasion.

As the projectile hurtled towards him, a wave of despair washed over his heart.

In that critical instant, however, the crimson projectile bizarrely veered in mid-air, detonating against the wall behind them.

Shrapnel from the impact struck the back of Daniel’s head, causing him to immediately lose consciousness.

“Damn it! Why did it miss?”

The mage cursed, shaking their smoking staff; clearly, their magical proficiency did not extend to continuous casting.

Rhine seized the opportunity, bending down to pick up Daniel’s fallen sword sheath, and then swiftly drew the competition sword from within.

It was sharpened, capable of killing.

Seeing Rhine’s defiance, both sorcerers secretly scoffed.

‘What could a mere servant without transcendent power possibly do? Even Daniel is powerless now; he’s just fish on a chopping block. Once our cooldowns are ready, they’ll both die!’

Rhine calmly gripped the sword, assessing the two sorcerers.

‘They came for Daniel, so they weren’t sent by Marin. If they had come for me and accidentally killed his own son, that would be truly laughable.’

‘Should I let them kill Daniel and simply stand aside? No, that would be desertion. Even if Philip pleaded tirelessly on my behalf, I could not honorably remain in the Duke’s mansion.’

‘More importantly, would that align with my style?’

‘Should I merely stall for time, waiting for reinforcements? No, on my own, my strength is merely that of a skilled swordsman. Facing two sorcerers’ combined assault, a complete escape is impossible.’

‘More importantly, would that align with my style?’

With that thought solidifying, Rhine made an immediate decision: eliminate them all.

Dead men told no tales.

More importantly, this course of action was perfectly aligned with his inherent nature.