The preparations for the sparring match concluded sooner than expected. Lord Campbell had barely departed, and I hadn’t even finished another cup of tea, when a messenger arrived, requesting my presence at the training grounds.
“May I join in, Master? I promise to provide a most entertaining spectacle.”
As they made their way to the training grounds, Zephyr hovered beside him, posing the question. Jeha cast a fleeting glance at Zephyr.
Though tall, Zephyr certainly didn’t possess the massive, muscular physique of Lord Campbell. In fact, he was rather slender. Yet, Jeha never for a moment considered him weak. He was, after all, the second strongest among Bellarossa’s familiars. Even if all the knights present were to challenge him simultaneously, not one would be able to best Zephyr.
“That wouldn’t be fair at all.”
Jeha’s blunt declaration caused Zephyr’s lips to protrude ever so slightly. He then muttered, barely audible to Jeha.
“Those pathetic, weak humans…”
Jeha, of course, pretended not to hear.
****
The moment they reached the entrance of the training grounds, a line of knights stood perfectly arrayed. Upon seeing Jeha, they placed their fists over their chests, bowed their heads, and roared.
“Greetings to Your Excellency!”
The resounding greeting echoed far beyond the training grounds. It was enough to make one’s ears tingle.
Instead of covering his ears or digging at them, Jeha merely gave a slight nod.
Lord Campbell guided him to a chair positioned at one side of the training grounds. The antique chair, utterly out of place in a martial arena, appeared to have been brought in just moments before.
“Shall we begin immediately, Your Excellency?”
As Jeha took his seat, Lord Campbell inquired.
“Yes.”
Jeha nodded, his gaze sweeping over the knights with a hint of anticipation.
As if pre-arranged, the knights divided themselves into two groups without hesitation. The space directly in front of Jeha became vacant.
“Who among you will step forward first to demonstrate their skill before His Excellency?!”
Immediately, the knights from both divisions eagerly vied to step forward into the center, as if they had been waiting for this very moment.
“I shall go first!”
“No, I insist! I shall be the first!”
Jeha watched the knights squabbling over who would go first, then subtly shifted his gaze to Lord Campbell. It seemed that in their haste to prepare, they hadn’t managed to arrange the order of the sparring matches.
Witnessing his knights shoving each other and bickering, the middle-aged knight’s face instantly darkened.
“You rascals!”
As Lord Campbell bellowed, the knights, who had been on the verge of a physical altercation, abruptly froze. They then glanced at Jeha before retreating to their positions and standing ramrod straight.
“Ahem, it seems the lads were overly excited at the prospect of displaying their prowess before Your Excellency,” Lord Campbell spoke, a look of mortification on his face. “They have shown a rather regrettable display.”
“It’s quite alright, quite alright. I appreciate their overflowing enthusiasm.”
As Jeha dismissed it casually, Lord Campbell’s expression softened slightly. However, it seemed his anger towards the knights had not entirely dissipated, for his eyes, as he surveyed the ranks, were still filled with sternness.
“Those I name, step forward! Sir Ripel, and Sir Conil! Forward!”
The two knights, whose names had been called, strode from their respective positions to stand in the center.
Both wore meticulously maintained armor that gleamed, and long, heavy-looking swords hung at their hips. Standing side-by-side facing forward, they raised their fists to their hearts and bowed respectfully.
“Prepare!”
As Lord Campbell’s booming voice rang out, the two knights drew the swords from their belts, fixing their gazes upon each other as they widened the distance between them.
The faces of the two knights, awaiting the signal, were alight with competitive spirit. Jeha could almost feel their resolute determination to emerge victorious.
Lord Campbell cast a look toward Jeha. Understanding the unspoken request, Jeha nodded. With his permission granted, Lord Campbell boomed.
“Begin!”
No sooner had the signal been given than the two knights closed the distance between them in a single swift movement.
Clang!
The sound of steel clashing against steel erupted.
The swords wielded by the two knights, even at a glance, appeared razor-sharp and remarkably heavy. A single direct hit seemed capable of severing a limb. A slender human neck, of course, would stand no chance.
Even as their opponents’ blades whistled menacingly through the air, aimed directly at them, neither knight showed any sign of fear or hesitation. Instead, they moved relentlessly, swinging their swords and creating a continuous spectacle of thrilling, near-misses.
Clang! Clang!
After several more clashes, their aggressive momentum intensified. It felt as though they had merely been testing the waters, and the true battle was now beginning in earnest.
‘H-heavens! Oh dear! Ahh!’
Each time a sword narrowly missed a head or torso, Jeha inwardly shrieked. Yet, despite his internal turmoil, he dared not show any outward reaction, befitting his status as the head of the Belgard family and its lord.
As the sparring grew increasingly fierce, Jeha’s spine tingled with concern that someone might be killed or severely injured. The other knights, however, watched with expressions of deep concentration, seemingly unfazed, as if such intensity were commonplace, their sole focus on who would emerge victorious.
‘Oh, please. Just stop before someone gets hurt…’
Jeha prayed inwardly. It was he who had claimed the sparring would be entertaining. Yet, if he were to witness someone seriously injured before his eyes, he felt he would be overcome with immense guilt. Unable to bear it any longer, Jeha finally leaned towards Lord Campbell, who stood beside him with a solemn expression, and whispered.
“Might they not get hurt doing that?”
Hearing the worried whisper, Lord Campbell bent down and murmured softly into Jeha’s ear.
“Do not fret, Your Excellency. This level of intensity is merely their usual warm-up. While they are a bit more agitated than usual, they are not so green as to inflict serious harm upon their comrades.”
Upon hearing Lord Campbell’s reassurance, Jeha felt somewhat relieved. He composed himself and began to observe the sparring match once more, as if watching a film. Repeating to himself, ‘This is a movie, merely a scene from a film,’ several times inwardly, he finally felt a measure of calm.
Clang! Clang!
The duel between the two knights seemed to be steadily approaching its climax. Even to the uninitiated Jeha, the swordsmanship displayed by the two was far from ordinary.
Although it felt to Jeha as if a considerable amount of time had passed, neither knight showed any signs of fatigue. On the contrary, their movements grew even swifter, as if they were just warming up. The only discernible indication of their exertion was the sheen of sweat on their faces.
Clang—!
A powerful collision occurred, and finally, one knight’s sword was wrested from their grip. The lost blade whizzed through the air before embedding itself in the training ground floor with a resounding thud.
“…I have lost.”
The knight who had lost his sword conceded defeat, his voice a mixture of regret and frustration.
The victor and the vanquished once again stood side-by-side, facing forward, and exchanged a brief bow. Jeha applauded them with genuine sincerity.
“Magnificent. Truly remarkable. Utterly splendid.”
As Jeha clapped and showered them with continuous praise, a mixture of pride and bashfulness bloomed on the faces of both knights.
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Both bowed again simultaneously. The victor returned to their position with an air of triumph, while the defeated knight’s face clearly showed their lingering regret.
After the first bout concluded, several more sparring matches followed.
Initially, Jeha understood little of the finer points, but as he continued to watch, he began to discern the knights’ frequently employed movements and techniques. Perhaps due to training within the same order of knights, their techniques and stances were remarkably similar. Their skill levels were likewise consistent; while some performed slightly better or worse, there were no stark disparities in ability.
One might expect to grow bored watching such similar scenes repeatedly, yet Jeha found himself anything but. His heart pounded simply from witnessing these true men pour all their prowess into the sparring matches. If one side seemed to be faltering, he would inwardly root for them to rally and reclaim their ground.
‘Ah, this is the true world of men.’
Jeha never stinted on his praise after each match. The knights’ faces were filled with satisfaction and pride, and Jeha, too, felt satisfied and proud to have such passionate and excellent knights under his command.
By then, it was already midday. As the sun beat down more intensely from overhead, the gleaming armor of the knights and the flashes of their swords became dazzling. When Jeha squinted, showing a slight discomfort, Lord Campbell, who seemed to have been subtly observing Jeha’s complexion, raised a hand and halted the sparring.
“Alright, that’s enough for today!”
As Lord Campbell declared, the knights who had not yet had a chance to spar fidgeted, though they dared not openly protest.
“Let the knights who have displayed their skills before His Excellency take today’s sparring as an example and strive even harder in the future! And those who could not yet showcase their abilities, train diligently, for there will be future opportunities!”
“Yes, understood!”
The knights’ thunderous reply reverberated through the training grounds.
“Please, Your Excellency, come inside and rest a while.”
Compared to the burly knights present, Jeha’s average Korean height and build must have appeared exceedingly delicate. Lord Campbell urged him, seemingly concerned that he had been seated under the sun for too long.
Jeha nodded and was about to rise when he paused. He then looked at the neatly arranged ranks of knights and addressed Lord Campbell.
“Still, for a sparring match of this caliber, shouldn’t there be some reward for the victors?”
“A reward, Your Excellency? For a mere sparring match? The very act of showcasing their skills before you is a reward in itself.”
“Hmm… even so…”
Jeha wore a contemplative expression for a moment.
‘It doesn’t have to be anything grand. Even a simple flower would suffice. When a prize is given for victory, the joy is always doubled.’
“If Your Excellency is so considerate of the knights, perhaps…”
Lord Campbell trailed off, a cautious look on his face. He seemed to have thought of something.
“Tell me what it is.”
“It would be a great honor and joy for them if Your Excellency were to invite the victors to dinner tonight.”
‘Well, it’s just sharing a meal…’
Jeha nodded without hesitation. Lord Campbell, with a joyful expression, shouted to the knights.
“His Excellency has invited the victors of the sparring matches to dinner tonight!”
It seemed like such a minor thing, yet the knights cheered with exuberant faces. Jeha, feeling somewhat embarrassed, hastily rose from his chair.