Raising the Princess to Overcome Death Chapter 113
113. Childhood Friend - Twin Princes
"S-swordmaster?"
The two knights of the Count Amus family were stunned. A red haze emanated from the enemy's sword. They had never seen it before, but it unmistakably looked like an aura blade.
An aura blade was the ultimate skill that proved one to be the strongest swordmaster on the continent.
Unlike knights who couldn't be evaluated until they engaged in combat, swordmasters could command awe and respect simply by concentrating mana into their sword.
The knights hesitated and tried to retreat.
However, they were paralyzed by the killing intent emanating from the swordmaster.
"Haah... Arrogant fools."
Rev lunged forward as the pleasure subsided. He swung his sword himself, intending to end the pitiful lives of his prey. He also desired to receive more divine power.
But... he missed.
Aura blades cannot be blocked. Aura blades ignore all defensive equipment like swords, shields, and armor; evasion is the only way to deal with them.
But there was no way we could evade a swordmaster's blade.
Thus, as the swords came flying, the two knights tightly closed their eyes, their lives flashing before them. However, their instinctive evasive actions inadvertently allowed them to dodge the blade.
"...?"
"...?"
The knights looked at each other, bewildered that their heads were still attached. Did we really dodge the sword of the world's strongest swordmaster?
Rev swung his sword again. This time, they stepped back out of his attack range.
"What, what is this?"
Their lives no longer flashed before their eyes. Though the swordmaster's movements were extraordinary, his swordsmanship was similar to theirs...?
"???"
Doubt clouded the knights' eyes. But rather than question it, they saw it as a fortunate turn of events. One knight gripped his sword tightly and rallied his spirits.
"Favel!"
As he moved to the right, shouting, Favel, the other knight, understood his intent and circled to the left. They aimed for the strange swordmaster's openings.
The boss and thugs, who had been about to flee in terror of the aura blade, halted, encouraged by the knights' vigorous fighting.
They were fighting better than expected.
"Martin!"
At Favel's shout, Martin's sword struck low while Favel's struck high. Their combined attack cleaved the enemy from above and below without any margin for error.
However,
"Haaa!"
Rev swung his sword widely. The blade whirled, slashing from his legs to his head, cutting through the knights' swords.
The broken tips of their swords, about three inches long, clattered to the ground.
"Damn it! Again!"
The knights gritted their teeth and attacked once more with their shortened swords, but Rev's superiority became more evident.
Unable to clash swords. That was a tremendous penalty.
All martial arts movements, including swordsmanship, generally fell into four categories: evasion, blocking, cutting, and thrusting.
There were various actions like kicking, closing the distance, tripping, and grappling, but these ultimately served the purpose of the four main actions.
But with the basic action of blocking completely nullified, the knights had no choice but to dodge and wait for an opening.
If the skill gap was vast, they could still win that way...
"Ugh!"
In a moment of carelessness, an accident occurred.
The swordmaster suddenly swung his sword with one hand, and the knight instinctively defended, only to realize his mistake too late. The aura blade split his sword and body together.
"Martin! No!"
Rev's sword hilt flew. He tossed it from his left hand to his right and swiftly stabbed.
"Urk...!"
The blade slid smoothly into his stomaChapter Favel looked down at his belly.
He had always been prepared to die by the sword. In a way, dying by an aura blade was an honor...
Finally, he lifted his head to take one last look at the masked swordmaster. But Rev had already moved away.
"R-run!"
The thugs scattered in all directions like dust. Rev considered marking them all for [Target Hunt] but decided against it.
The Nevis church bothered him.
He remembered when Prince Eric had Revaled his strength, the bells of the Rutina church had rung crazily.
This much might be okay, but those filthy agents of the main god could sense the power of Ashin from afar.
Rev calmed the divine power lingering in his sword and returned it to normal, then dashed forward.
It was time to hunt.
The Dorf family had vanished.
Their headquarters had turned into a brutal slaughterhouse sparing neither man, woman, nor child, and several stables on the outskirts of Nevis also met the same fate.
They hadn't caught the culprit, but there were survivors. They had fled aimlessly rather than hiding, and in their terror, they shouted that a knight had attacked them.
Some babbled that the knight was a swordmaster, but it wasn't taken seriously. There were only three swordmasters on the continent, and they wouldn't be in the Kingdom of Orun.
"What kind of bastard...?"
Count Taradin Amus gritted his teeth. He had supported the Dorf family for many years. The money they provided wasn't much, but they were convenient for entertaining the debauched princes.
He called for his butler.
"Inform the princes that I request a meeting. I will be ready shortly."
The butler hurried off, and as the maids prepared him, Count Amus pondered deeply.
'Who could it be? What is their goal?'
His mind was troubled by noble families like the Pompius Viscount, Germain Count, and Nensota Baron, who sided with the princes.
They could be envious and jealous of him. They must have found it annoying that he controlled the slave trade in Nevis and satisfied the princes' desires.
He briefly considered families like the Ogarten Count, Gaidan, and Drazhin Marquis, who were neutral, but quickly dismissed them.
They were too noble to be involved in such underhanded schemes.
He internally blamed Count Germain. Only Count Germain knew how much effort he put into serving the princes.
As soon as his preparations were complete, Count Taradin Amus brushed the maids aside and strode forward.
"Father..."
At that moment, his daughter appeared. Unlike her father, who had yellowish eyes and broad cheekbones, she resembled her mother and was quite pretty. Though she was of age, her small stature and braided hair gave her a delicate appearance, but her eyes, which should have been bright, were filled with worry.
"I don't feel well today... Can I skip the evening banquet...?"
"Go."
The count replied curtly and hurried on. His daughter pleaded from behind.
"Father. Can't I miss just this one day? I really don't feel well... If I go there..."
"Go."
"I already did what I had to. I told you the banquet would be held secretly today, and many ladies will attend because it's been a long time. So please... I can't handle this."
The count stopped abruptly. Taralin Amus hoped her father had changed his mind, but then—
- Slap!
What came next was a slap. To avoid leaving a mark on her face, the back of his hand struck under her ear, around her jaw and neck.
“Kyaa! F-Father.”
“Do not make me repeat myself.”
The Count replied coldly, then turned away, muttering, “Useless thing.”
For some reason, the lustful princes only toyed with his daughter, never taking her to bed.
It was undoubtedly because she was uninteresting and unattractive.
Otherwise, would the debauched princes have left such a defenseless woman alone?
As a man himself, he knew well how boring it was to hold a woman who couldn't even throw a tantrum and only cried.
There were crazy people who enjoyed such things, but the Count was not one of them.
“Feeling unwell, huh? Good. She may have been dodging the princes so far, but now she can just sit and wait.”
Count Amus left the mansion, resolved to send her to the banquet no matter what today.
Soon, he arrived at the residence of the first prince, Athon de Lognum.
Although the princes originally lived in the palace, the twin princes had established a residence on 'Bedajin Street' and often visited.
As the Count was guided by the butler, he smiled sinisterly.
“Fools. It's good for me, though.”
They were deeply engrossed in women.
Though the princes dominated the political scene, the Count believed it was merely luck that had favored them.
Their early fights and subsequent reconciliation had only politically benefited them.
“Count Amus has arrived.”
The Count stepped into the study, which had several explicit paintings of naked women on the walls. The princes were exchanging drinks in that vulgar room, where the number of bookshelves was outnumbered by paintings.
Thinking about the benefits that would fall if these fools ascended the throne, the Count quickly adjusted his expression. He greeted them with a gentle smile.
“Taradin Amus greets the heirs of Lognum.”
“Oh! Count, welcome.”
Despite it being daytime, the princes' faces were flushed with alcohol. The Count clicked his tongue inwardly and started with good news.
“As I mentioned before, Baron Guanin is hosting a banquet today. Will you be attending?”
“Haha. Of course. When have we ever refused a banquet? But lately, the nobles' meetings have been sparse, and they haven't sent us invitations. It's disappointing.”
When Elzeor de Lognum spoke regretfully, the Count agreed.
“Indeed. Their loyalty to the royal family is pitifully weak... It's lamentable. If it weren't for Lognum's generosity, they wouldn't have a place in this kingdom.”
“Hahaha. Don't be too harsh. Perhaps they just want their own gatherings.”
Said Athon de Lognum.
‘Then why don’t you refrain from going.’
Laughing inwardly, the Count changed the subject.
“Since you mentioned it, I will try to see them differently. Oh, and some bad news. It would be best not to attend next week's auction.”
“What? Why, Count? You know we've been eagerly waiting for that auction...”
“I'm sorry. But I've heard that there won't be any decent girls at this auction. While it will still be held... I'm afraid it won't meet your expectations.”
“I see... That's unfortunate. But thank you for the heads-up. It's better to look forward to the next one rather than be disappointed.”
“Haha. Athon de Lognum is right. Sometimes anticipation can be a pleasure in itself.”
The Count spoke sweetly, as if to a child, and the princes laughed happily.
Finally, as he concluded his business, Count Amus said, “I hope you will relieve the fatigue of your political duties at today's banquet. My daughter will also be attending; she is shy and does not express herself well, so it would be an honor if you could spare a moment to speak with her.” With that, he left.
The princes, who had been smiling brightly, wiped the mischievous grins off their faces as soon as the door closed.
As if they had never laughed, they pushed their drinks aside and each took out a well-thumbed book from their drawers, the movements strikingly natural.
Athon de Lognum read "The Origins and Maxims of Blitzkrieg," while Elzeor de Lognum read "On Mobile Warfare."
Coincidentally, these two books were co-authored by the hero King Maunin and Queen Retii, who had led the northern kingdom to independence from the empire.
As the sun began to set, marking the end of their intense, silent reading, Elzeor de Lognum closed his book and spoke.
“Brother, that man did say something right earlier.”
“...What do you mean? I only heard nonsense.”
Athon de Lognum bookmarked his place and looked up.
“He said that waiting can sometimes be a pleasure.”
Elzeor smiled brightly.
The white teeth of the handsome young man shone, and unlike the smile he showed the Count, it had depth.
“Ah, yes. That was indeed a wise statement.”
Athon also smiled faintly. A picturesque smile spread across his face.
“Our wait is also so enjoyable that his words hold true wisdom.”
The princes’ declaration that nothing would change between them regardless of who ascended the throne was merely a reiteration of an old plan.
The two young princes had exchanged meaningful glances, bloodied by their fight, separated by the royal guards.
- We will not be ordinary kings.
The grand plan to control the nobles who only cared for their own lands and saw the royal family as a honey pot was steadily progressing.
Elzeor de Lognum extended a hand to his brother and asked,
“More importantly, Brother, how do you think Marquis Harvey will act?”
Athon de Lognum handed his book to his brother and replied,
“Well, I don't think Marquis Gaidan has any other options. Eventually, he will marry off Harier.”
“Haha. I like you, Brother, but I do wish that young lady would come to me.”
“Ho... This is serious. To think our relationship would be strained over a woman. I don't want to give up Harier either. It's not easy to find a lady as graceful as she is.”
Noticing his brother's playful tone, Athon poked at his competitive spirit. Elzeor, who had hidden the book in a corner of the shelf, slowly turned his head with a smile.
“I am confident she will come to me. Marquis Gaidan will want to marry his daughter to someone with a high chance of becoming king.”
His brother's confident response made Athon burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! You're right. Undoubtedly so! But whether she becomes a dukess or a queen is yet to be seen.”
“If you ascend the throne, Brother, she will be a duckess. If I do, she will be a queen. Haha, we will know this before the winter is over.”
The declaration that nothing would change between them and the plan they had was underpinned by the princes' promise.
Whichever of them ascended the throne, the other would be made a duke, and they would actively support the duke becoming the next king.
War.
The one who became a duke would become a spear to strike the insolent Kingdom of Conrad. The one who inherited the throne of the Kingdom of Orun would be the shield to support that war.
The two ambitious young men thought it would be more fun to become a duke than to cling to the throne. They were even ready to offer their condolences to the brother who ascended the throne.
Noticing the time had passed, Athon de Lognum stood up.
“Come, Brother. Let's get ready. We must make a splendid appearance at tonight's banquet.”
Although it was bothersome, it was necessary to consistently display a penchant for women.
Which noble would attach themselves to an ambitious and gallant monarch?
While it might not be the best way to gain truly loyal subjects, most nobles preferred a ruler with flaws.
As Count Amus had just demonstrated.
“Brother, I am ready.”
But one day, they too would know. The southern continent would come to know of the princes who sullied themselves to create a great king.
We will be remembered in history.
As they left the lewdly decorated study, the steps of the two princes had already taken on a jaunty rhythm.