The Deeds Of An Extremely Arrogant Villain Aristocrat

Chapter 75: Friendly Match

Actually, the magic Mia excelled at the most was ‘healing magic.’ This was natural since the Lennox family had supported the kingdom for generations with their healing power as a family of priests.

If the status of priests was established, using that power without the kingdom’s permission wouldn’t be allowed, but as a student, there was no problem. 

Naturally, the temple factions didn’t think well of it, but she didn’t care at all.

“…Mmm.”

“Finally awake, huh?”

Thanks to Mia’s excellent healing magic, Abel woke up the next morning. However, since healing magic consumed a lot of the target’s life force, he wasn’t fully recovered right away. Even though all his wounds were healed, his body ached all over, and he felt extremely fatigued.

“Luke… where is this?”

“You can see for yourself. It’s your room in the imperial castle.”

“Oh… right, sorry. Is there any water?”

Currently, only Abel and Luke were in the room. Luke had estimated the approximate time Abel would wake up based on the extent of his injuries and visited the room—almost perfectly on time. 

Moreover, at this hour, most people were still asleep, which was convenient.

“It’s about time. First, tell me everything that happened to you yesterday.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Abel quickly finished drinking the water that had been prepared for him. After taking a breath, he began to talk. 

He explained how, after being blown away by Freya’s magic, he was forcibly taken to another place. There, he faced the enemy ‘Fortis,’ who was targeting Luke. And then—

“…At that time, I was so caught up in the moment that I don’t really understand, but… I felt an incredible power, and it felt like I was enveloped in some mysterious force…”

“What? Wasn’t there an elf?”

“Huh? An elf…?”

“The long-haired elf we met on that street. Wasn’t he there?”

“No… I think it was just me and Fortis at that place…”

“What…?”

Luke frowned slightly.

(…It’s possible he just didn’t notice. But still, there’s no reason for that elf to help. So what was the ‘light magic power’ in his sword…?)

Currently, there was no such magic power coming from Abel. This made it all the more puzzling and frustrating. The existence of something he couldn’t imagine, and the fact that Abel had attracted such a special event, irritated him.

It reminded him of the fact that “Abel is indeed the protagonist,” which only further aggravated Luke.

“…We’re done talking.”

“Wait, Luke!”

Luke suddenly stood up and walked toward the door. Abel called out to him instinctively, but Luke didn’t turn back. Still—

“Thank you! Thank you for saving me again!”

“…Ha?”

Abel’s memory was hazy, but he was sure of one thing: Luke had saved him again. Luke’s back, which never turned around, seemed very large and yet infinitely distant. This expression of gratitude came from a strong admiration and absolute trust, almost like blind faith. 

However—

“You think I saved you? Kuku… Don’t get the wrong idea, you weakling.”

To Luke, everything Abel said was irritating. Abel had awakened an unknown power, temporarily wielding ‘light magic’ that opposed the darkness. He gave off an aura of steadily approaching something significant, as if saying that’s how it should be. 

No matter how much Abel grew or how much power he gained, it didn’t matter at all. Luke believed he could completely crush Abel even at his full strength. He felt compelled to prove it. The fiery determination burning deep within him wouldn’t die out. 

To Luke, the reason he helped save Abel was just that trivial.

“Keep your word. …Though I don’t have any expectations of you.”

With those final words, Luke left the room. He never looked back until the end, but still,

“Yeah, I will.”

Abel understood for sure.

“I’ll become your ‘rival,’ Luke. And—I’ll fight by your side.”

Luke’s words likely held little expectation for Abel. But even so, it wasn’t zero.

That fact made Abel incredibly happy. Yet, he knew that as he was now, it wasn’t enough. Abel understood better than anyone that he would only be a burden if he couldn’t keep up with Luke’s battles. 

That’s why he needed to become stronger.

With these thoughts, Abel fell asleep again.

§

“…”

Gaius, the current emperor of the Glen Empire, was an extremely capable person. Because of this, he was deeply troubled now. 

The issue started a few days ago. A kingdom noble, who had only wanted to observe the Sword Saint Festival, suddenly demanded to participate. However, even if it was a request from a kingdom noble, Gaius couldn’t immediately agree. This was because the Sword Saint Festival wasn’t just an annual event.

The main tournament, which would take place the next day, involved twenty-four heroes from various countries who had won through the tough preliminaries. Naturally, influential people from all over the world were invited. Allowing the sudden participation of a kingdom noble would affect the empire’s prestige and could potentially lead to diplomatic issues. The Sword Saint Festival had a deterrent aspect by showcasing the strategic warriors each country possessed.

Yet, ignoring the request from a kingdom noble, especially a marquis family, was not an option. 

It was a true dilemma.

“…”

“Is something wrong, Father?”

“What is it, my son?”

“No, I apologize for the intrusion.”

Despite his worries, Gaius thought about it. 

He believed that the first prince, Keithwood, was the most suitable to be the next emperor. Keithwood had the ability to see the big picture, held firm beliefs, and had the flexibility to accept new ideas. 

But this wasn’t the time to think about that.

They were in the luxurious VIP room of the arena. Many kingdom nobles and key figures from various friendly countries were present. 

Therefore, as emperor, Gaius had to maintain a brave front despite the sharp pain he felt.

“Your Majesty, thank you again for your generous response.”

One of Gaius’s troubles and a kingdom noble, Freya, bowed her head.

“No need to apologize, Lady Elefseria. If our country can fulfill your nation’s wishes, there is no greater joy.”

Considering the positions and power dynamics between the empire and the kingdom, there was no other way to respond.

The sharp gazes from those around him made it clear they were speculating about the empire and kingdom’s relationship. Gaius carefully chose his words to convey that he had reluctantly agreed.

“However, it was unexpected. A boy from the kingdom showing interest in swordsmanship.”

He raised his voice slightly to maintain the minimum dignity of an emperor while not offending the kingdom’s people.

“Excuse me, may I offer my greetings?”

Then, a voice came from an unexpected direction, drawing the attention of Gaius, Amelia, and Freya. 

A black-haired boy, wearing an unusually large white robe, bowed his head.

“It’s an honor to meet you. I am Cain Johanne Valentino, the 248th Pope of the Holy State of Myura. I am grateful for this wonderful encounter.”

With obsidian hair and vivid red eyes, the boy seemed to be in his teens.

His dignified demeanor, unexpected for someone his age, left most of the people in the room astonished. He wore a warm, benevolent smile.

§

“Master Luke, it’s about time for you to enter.”

Alfred returned to the room and informed Luke.

“Yes, I know… but—”

“Good luck, Luke! I really think you can even defeat the Sword Saint!”

“Why state the obvious? It’s annoying, so could you disappear?”

“S-Sorry, Alice…”

“Luke, if you get hurt, come back immediately. I’ll heal you… m-meow.”

“…”

Even though only Alfred was supposed to accompany him, Alice, Mia, and even Abel with crutches were in the room.

Luke wanted to sigh, but he quickly cleared his mind of such distractions.

Luke began to walk slowly. 

It was frustrating and hard to accept, but in the arena, the Sword Saint was absolute, and Luke was the challenger. Thus, he had to enter first.

[Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience! We will now begin the friendly match!]

This friendly match, hastily arranged to take place before the Sword Saint Festival’s final tournament, was officially for fostering relations between the empire and the kingdom. 

However, most spectators understood it was because a kingdom noble had flaunted their power.

“…”

Luke had nothing special to say. 

He simply walked quietly towards the battlefield.

[Unexpected participation from the Kingdom of Myrstia!! Entering now is Luke Wizaria Gilbert, the eldest son of the Marquis Gilbert!!]

An indescribable murmur of mixed reactions filled the air. It soon subsided, and silence took over. 

The empire’s citizens clearly did not have a good impression of the kingdom, and the atmosphere was unwelcoming. 

However, Luke’s expression remained unchanged as he checked his grip on his sword.

(…What is this feeling?)

His mind felt strangely unsettled. He was restless.

This was an unfamiliar feeling, and it annoyed him slightly. He had felt this way ever since he entered the arena and waited in the holding room.

[Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve been waiting for! Our Sword Saint! Cyrus Schwarz is entering the arena!!]

A deafening cheer erupted, completely different from the previous reactions. The arena was filled with an intense excitement. 

The crowd, caught up in the atmosphere, began shouting insults at the kingdom.

“Ah, it’s Cyrus. Nice to meet you.”

“…”

The Sword Saint, Cyrus Schwarz. 

He looked like a middle-aged man with an unkempt beard. To those who didn’t know him, it would be hard to believe he was the empire’s greatest individual warrior. 

Even Luke felt the same. 

Standing before him, Luke felt nothing.

“Do you think you can beat me?”

“Huh?”

Luke asked with a demeanor that implied he was the challenger.

“Hmm… well, I haven’t lost recently, so probably, yeah.”

“Kukuku… AHAHAHA! I see!”

Luke swiftly drew his sword. 

And with that, the battle began.

§

The battle lasted only about thirty seconds.

At first, everyone thought it was a joke.

Only the one who had fought through the final tournament should be allowed to challenge the Sword Saint. Yet, a noble boy from a country that didn’t value the sword was challenging him.

Those who were deeply attached to the Sword Saint Festival were furious at this fact. 

But once the match began, their opinions changed. 

The boy displayed swordsmanship far beyond their expectations.

However, the result remained unchanged.

After about thirty seconds of combat, the Sword Saint Cyrus’s sword struck Luke, sending him flying into the wall. Dust clouds rose up. 

The cheers turned into a roar. The excitement in the arena reached its peak, swirling higher and higher. 

But this wasn’t surprising.

Everyone knew the Sword Saint would win.

The excitement was also a reflection of their frustration and dissatisfaction with the kingdom.

But then, something unexpected happened. 

Just as the announcer was about to declare the Sword Saint the winner, Cyrus himself stopped him with a hand.

The cheers turned into a confused murmur. As the dust settled, everyone finally understood why.

They saw the “Dark Cocoon.”

It was Luke’s ultimate defensive measure, created by using his magic and skills to their limits.

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