Raising the Princess to Overcome Death Chapter 97

97. Beggar Siblings – Duke Tertan

Bart ran out with his sword drawn.

There was nothing to hold him back now. Everyone in the Tertan ducal household had awakened, and since we had infiltrated their domain, all that was left was the battle.

Midian Tertan recognized Bart at a glance. The bastard who killed my son!

“You scoundrel! You've come to me on your own accord!”

“Ah! Duke!”

He charged forward, thrusting his shield. The knights behind him were startled and tried to stop him, but he didn't hear them.

- KLANG!

Bart’s sword clashed with Midian’s red shield. A deafening sound echoed.

“Die!”

While their sword and shield clashed, he swung his hefty sword.

As long as he succeeded in defense, the shield nearly always outperformed a two-handed sword. It could block reliably, buy a moment to thrust, and if the opponent tried to dodge, he could press forward with the shield to maintain the advantage. But,

“Hm?”

He stopped his thrust mid-way. Even in his rage, he hadn’t lost his reasoning.

The man's stance was peculiar.

He thought it strange when Bart swung his sword with one hand, but the movement of his left hand was even stranger.

Unlike the right hand that swung, the left was positioned protectively near the chest... suspicious.

Midian Tertan recognized what even Tadian Lopero, the captain of the guard, hadn't noticed. It wasn’t a matter of skill but the habit of a cautious noble.

Midian didn’t rashly thrust his sword; he swept lightly as if handling a dagger.

Just enough to cut the left hand.

“Tsk.”

Bart clicked his tongue. He had planned to finish it quickly, but the man was perceptive.

He had no choice but to step back, avoiding Midian's sword, and face two more knights who had joined the chase.

“Protect the Duke!”

“Wipe out the Tertan family that has disrupted the state!”

As the knights of the ducal house rushed forward, the knights of the Second Order, led by Hazen, charged to meet them.

Amidst the clamor of weapons clashing, Bart began to rampage.

He swung his sword with his right hand, clashing, then, like performing an acrobatic feat, he tossed the sword in the air, spun around, caught it with his left hand, and slashed at the enemy behind him.

At the same time, he kicked backward with his right foot and pulled the sword with both hands.

The epitome of balanced form.

Bart had realized one day that the balance he had pursued in his swordsmanship was meaningless.

Perfect balance. Perfect slashing.

These were achievable if he wielded the sword alone, but when two people clashed swords, it inevitably broke.

With that realization, Bart had to admit that he had pursued perfection without considering his opponent from the beginning.

It wasn't an easy admission.

He had trained his whole life. He had already perfected a level of swordsmanship that no one else could match.

But perhaps because he had lost his honor along with his lord, having nothing more to lose, he was able to let go of his attachment. Reflecting deeply on his swordsmanship, Bart had a great realization last summer.

‘Without considering the opponent, swordsmanship cannot exist.’

Any knight could read and block, dodge, or find openings in the opponent's movements, but Bart’s realization went beyond merely capturing movements.

- Without an opponent, there is no me. My swordsmanship is completed in conjunction with the opponent's swordsmanship.

With that realization, Bart moved completely away from polishing only his swordsmanship.

He swung his sword with one hand, alternating grips, and redefined his swordsmanship to harmonize with the opponent.

From a lower level's perspective, it might seem like a greedy swordsmanship that sought to maintain the initiative without any gap.

But this was not entirely wrong... The newly established swordsmanship required overwhelming physical ability. It required him to alternately attack from the left and right as if water flowed. Only then could he minimize the variables of the opponent's swordsmanship.

Despite considering others, it remained an egocentric swordsmanship. Could this be why he hadn’t become a swordmaster and remained just below that level?

“Argh!”

As the two knights lost their lives in an instant, Midian Tertan was horrified but not intimidated.

“You bastard!”

This was the man who killed his son. The man who brutally murdered his beloved child, who had grown strong and healthy.

He would never forgive him!

He advanced firmly, holding the red shield in the shape of an inverted triangle, the symbol of the Tertan family.

As the large shield, big enough to cover a full-grown man, approached, Bart straightened his stance and stabbed along a very obvious path.

- KANG!

Naturally, it was blocked by the shield.

“Hap!”

Midian’s thrust also missed.

- KANG!

Bart’s thrust was blocked.

“Hah!”

Midian’s slash missed.

Bart sidestepped lightly towards the side where Midian held his shield. He repeatedly dodged the shield’s advancing path and aimed his stabs at the head protruding above the shield.

The shield was indeed an effective weapon. With just a rough guess of the attack path, it allowed easy defense and could be used offensively depending on one's skill.

However, it had the drawback of forcing a passive fight. Due to its weight, quick attacks were difficult, and a one-handed sword would always be pushed back when clashing with a two-handed sword. The basic strategy was to block first and then exploit openings.

- KLANG!

Therefore, the strategy to attack an opponent with a shield was to make them hide behind it.

To make them block their own view.

Bart feigned another thrust. As Midian's shield slightly rose, Bart leaped up.

Spinning mid-air, he landed on his back, pressing down on the shield, and struck over it with his reverse-gripped sword.

Aiming for the collarbone.

Midian realized something was wrong the moment his shield was heavily pressed. Before he fully registered it, he pushed the shield with all his might and charged forward.

“Uaaaaah!”

The sword narrowly grazed his earlobe. His response was excellent.

But as Bart somersaulted off the shield and landed, he immediately charged forward.

Just as the opponent hurriedly tried to reposition the shield,

- BANG!

Bart mercilessly struck the side of the shield. While the baron staggered, Bart kicked up at his elbow.

- CRACK.

“Ugh!”

The elbow that had been bearing the shield's weight was dislocated and dangled loosely.

Midian Tertan, still somewhat conscious, quickly raised his one-handed sword, but it was over.

Bart struck down the raised sword. Seeing the broadsword fly off and cut into the opponent's forehead, he smiled like a demon.

“Baron! The baron is in danger!”

A knight shouted, aware of Midian's peril, but it was too late.

Bart pierced Midian Tertan's throat. From the lower right, the blade pierced through the neck bone. It was the same path that killed his son; naturally, or coincidentally, the same killer.

“Hahahahahahaha!”

Bart laughed loudly. With this, the ducal family's lineage was completely severed. Even if someone were adopted to continue the house, the bloodline of 'Tertan' ended here.

Of course, he had no intention of being satisfied with this.

Duke Lappert Tertan!

He was next.

Bart turned his head, surveying the surroundings. The garden was quickly becoming a battlefield.

The majestic trees were stained with blood, and the lush bushes and blooming flowers were splattered with flesh. Corpses of soldiers littered the ground, and knights were at each other's throats above them.

Spheres floating in the air illuminated the horrific scene.

‘The battle... we are slightly losing.’

The ducal knights were formidable, but the abilities of the Tertan family's distant relatives were considerable.

They fought one knight alone or in groups of three, outnumbering them.

But their resistance soon ended.

Bart sliced through a seemingly skilled opponent, and the thirty knights who had gone around to the back door now ran through the mansion, turning the tide.

As the clashing sounds of weapons grew less frequent, Bart couldn’t suppress his impatience and shouted.

“Let’s go! Capture the duke!”

“Wait, Sir Bart! Hold on...!”

He charged into the mansion before the situation was fully under control. Hazen called after him but Bart didn’t stop.

The maids screamed as the blood-soaked knight ran through, and a few noblewomen approached with fierce looks, hurling insults.

Of course, Bart didn't hear any of it. He pushed some away and cut down others.

The unwritten rule against harming noble ladies was not a concern for him if they bore the name Tertan.

Duke. Duke. Duke.

Bart and his four comrades ran through the vast mansion, kicking open doors and peering inside.

Finally, in the study at the end of the third floor... they found him.

- Rattle.

Duke Lappert Tertan, in a red gown, leaned back in a comfortable chair, swirling ice water in a crystal glass. Despite the cold winter, he gulped it down as if flames were burning inside him.

Bart felt a mix of boiling anger and intense exhilaration.

“Lappert Tertan!”

The old, wrinkled eyes turned towards Bart.

“So, an uninvited guest has arrived. So, does killing my grandson and son bring you peace?”

“Do you acknowledge your sins! For your worthless lust for power, you drove out the rightful heir, Prince Leo de Yeriel!”

Bart shouted, pointing a finger at him.

But the duke did not even blink an eye.

“Legitimate? The King never designated a successor. Prince Eric is the one truly fit for the throne…”

He gulped down the ice water greedily again, swallowing it without chewing or melting the ice in his mouth. Water ran down the wrinkles around his mouth.

“You old man! Wasn’t it you who tried to place your grandson on the throne? Truly despicable.”

“Grandson? Huh, huhuhu...”

Duke Lappert Tertan laughed roughly, ending with a wheezing, dry breath.

“Yes, he is indeed my grandson. But also not my grandson...”

“Sir Bart! Sir Bart!”

At that moment, Hazen's voice was heard from a distance, running up the stairs with heavy footsteps.

“Do not kill the duke! Even if we later execute him, we must keep him alive...”

Ah, so that's why he volunteered to capture the duke, to prevent us from killing him?

‘That cannot be allowed.’

Bart pointed his sword at the duke.

He had lived to kill this man.

The prince had given permission to kill the duke, and if problems arose with the nobles because of it... he would take responsibility.

He would take responsibility and protect the prince.

“Friends, may I kill him?”

He sought the approval of his comrades and approached the duke.

Once a renowned knight of the kingdom and still fit despite his age, the duke did not move. Instead, he sank deeper into his chair and closed his eyes.

“Go to hell. Realize your sins there and suffer!”

- Thud!

Bart's sword pierced the old man's chest.

Was it because he was old? Even after Bart withdrew his sword, little blood flowed from the duke’s chest.

“Sir Bart! Ah... what a mess...”

Hazen, who had rushed into the study, sighed deeply upon seeing the decapitated duke.

Knowing that words would not reach him, he had come himself to try to stop him... He had underestimated Bart's desire for revenge. He hadn’t expected him to run off before the battle was even over.

“Given the circumstances, there’s nothing we can do. At least gather his remains...”

But before he could finish his sigh, he screamed in shock.

“No! Wait! What are you doing!”

Bart roughly grabbed the duke's light brown hair.

He rudely displayed the old man's wrinkled neck and brought the sword to it.

It wasn’t over yet.

“Wait! This man is truly mad!”

Hazen tried to intervene, but four knights held him back.

“He is a noble! How can you disgrace a noble’s body like this? And as a knight, how can you insult the dead! Sir Bart, stop this at once!”

“...I am not a knight.”

The moment he lost the prince, he lost the honor of a knight.

Having indiscriminately killed those related to the Tertan family in his quest for revenge against the duke, he had no right to be called a knight.

Although he had dreamed of a glorious future with the prince’s return, that was not to be. The innocent blood on his hands was too thick.

So when Prince Leo unofficially formed the knight order, he had firmly refused to join.

He and his comrades were unworthy.

Bart’s dull sword crudely severed the duke’s neck. The flesh, pushed by the blade, formed a rough edge.

This head, he would boil and offer at the memorial of his departed comrades...

The eyes of the five knights glistened with madness.

“Sir Bart! Stop immediately...!!”

Hazen’s voice cut off abruptly as Bart’s comrades shouted in alarm.

“Bart! Watch out...!”

“?”

As Bart looked up with questioning eyes,

The duke’s arm moved.

“Ugh!”

A grotesque piece of flesh, resembling the head of a newborn calf or something entirely indescribable, pierced Bart’s abdomen. Attached to what had been a normal hand moments ago was something bizarre.

“What, what is this!”

Bart quickly released the duke’s hair and stepped back. Blood flowed from his stomach, but he had no time to feel the pain.

- Kill.

A chilling sensation returned.

Harie Guidan. The same eerie feeling he had when he saw the jewel hanging from her neck enveloped Bart.

That crimson jewel wouldn’t break. Feeling its ominousness, he had tried everything to destroy it, but nothing worked. Showing it to his comrades, they had said they felt nothing.

Only Bart had felt the eerie sensation.

In the end, Bart had thrown the jewel into the sea. He never thought of it again. Just remembering it made his hair stand on end.

The duke, half-beheaded and hanging upside down, rose. From his severed neck, dark red mist oozed and flowed...