By Zephyria 
“Why are you standing so close? No wonder you keep getting hit…”
Mahir muttered to himself, and Harold must have heard him because his already red face, stained with blood, turned even redder. He really does have good hearing. Mahir slowly approached, picked up the wooden sword lying on the ground, and said, “The sword is fine, so don’t worry.”
He could feel fierce gazes from around him, but he ignored them.
“What are you doing?”
While Mahir watched the young medic rush over to examine Harold’s injuries, Harold finally came to his senses and asked with a bewildered expression. Mahir looked at him and smiled again.
“I was waiting for you to come to your senses. Let’s start again.”
“No! I’m asking how a knight can drop his sword!”
Harold shouted, sounding frustrated. It was so loud that Mahir covered his ears and frowned.
“What do you want me to do if you’re stronger than I thought? Did I want to drop it? Maybe you should control your strength better.”
“You have no shame…”
“Don’t know what? I can’t hear you. Speak up…”
Before Mahir could finish speaking, Harold charged at him as if to kill him. The speed and power of his strikes were even greater, but the attack was so simple that Mahir blocked it much more easily than before.
As their swords met in an X, Mahir saw Harold’s angry face up close. Looking closely, he was even uglier than he had seemed from afar, and Mahir couldn’t help but frown.
“You ambush me like a rat while I’m talking? You shameless bastard. Don’t you dare call yourself a knight anywhere. You don’t even know the honor of a knight, you son of a bitch.”
“Shut up!”
Harold swung his wooden sword wildly like an enraged bear. It felt too much to take head-on, as if he hadn’t just become a knight. Moreover, he seemed to be regaining his reason quickly, and his attacks became increasingly sharp.
Mahir wasn’t going to deal with a pushover while chattering, so he shut his mouth and focused. He had been worried because he hadn’t trained in a long time, but thankfully, his body remembered. Mahir was the type to fight with an all-or-nothing approach, so he naturally followed his instincts.
He deflected the swords that rained down from left, right, above, below, and diagonally, and then found an opening. From this position, he would get cut a little, but he could definitely pierce Harold’s jugular. Before he could even finish thinking, his body moved on its own. He swung his sword towards the vital point, but then belatedly realized what he was doing and quickly retracted it.
But Harold didn’t miss that opening and lunged at Mahir’s side. Fortunately, he dodged it by a hair’s breadth, but the hem of his clothes was cut with a swish.
Mahir took a step back and stared at the neatly cut bottom of his top. Even with a blunt wooden sword, it wasn’t impossible if you had the skill.
But perhaps because of his history of simplifying the rules as he pleased, he kept feeling uneasy.
“Why are you suddenly so quiet? Why don’t you chatter like you were before?”
Harold taunted Mahir and charged at him fiercely. Mahir raised his arm to block Harold’s sword, meeting his expectations.
“Chatter chatter.”
“You son of a…!”
Before Harold could finish speaking, Mahir landed a well-aimed blow to his face. Startled by the surprise attack, Harold desperately blocked with his sword and shouted.
“Don’t joke around and take this seriously! Are you really a knight…!”
Even though he had been ambushed, Harold stupidly kept talking for too long. Again, before he could finish speaking, Mahir swung his arm. He relentlessly struck down with his sword, making loud thwacking sounds, and then put all his strength into his other hand and threw a punch.
Harold was startled and leaped back, shouting.
“You crazy bastard! How dare you use your fists?”
“Can’t I use my fists? There wasn’t a rule against it.”
“What knight would vulgarly use his fists?”
“No, it wasn’t in the rules. You should have said so from the beginning. Fists are forbidden. What else? I’ll listen again, so tell me properly this time.”
Mahir deliberately stalled for time, catching his breath. Harold was more skilled than he had thought, so it didn’t seem like it would end easily.
Suddenly, Mahir remembered Mahir’s worried face. He belatedly realized why Mahir had been so reluctant to have this match.
Since he was young, Mahir had gone to the battlefield, so he mostly had to fight opponents stronger than him. He had no chance head-on, so he ambushed them or used the terrain to guide them in a direction that was as advantageous to him as possible.
It might seem unfair, but there was no other way. What could he do if he couldn’t win otherwise? So, fighting head-on like this was unfamiliar. Mahir had known this exactly.
Moreover, since he couldn’t attack vital points, it was difficult to inflict fatal wounds. He wasn’t supposed to kill him in the first place. It didn’t suit his style at all, which was to cut off an arm or a leg and then start fighting.
“Everything besides swordsmanship is forbidden.”
“Then is kicking forbidden too? Like a spinning kick.”
“Of course… Ha.”
A vein bulged on Harold’s forehead as he answered. He lowered the sword he was holding slightly and solemnly declared.
“Is this how knights of Actan are?”
That bastard is bringing up the country again… Mahir was annoyed, but it was true that he was impersonating a knight, so he was speechless.
“To wear a mask and cover your face during a duel, do you have no respect for your opponent?”
“…”
“Does the empire not know the honor of a knight?”
Mahir started to get goosebumps at the sight of him talking like a legendary hero from an epic. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders.
Then, he slowly walked to the corner where the wooden training dummy was. Without any preparation, he swung his arms and struck the dummy hard in succession, and soon cracks began to appear in the wood. He didn’t stop until the dummy’s protruding arm broke and its body was smashed.
“What are you doing?”
Harold, who had been watching Mahir’s sudden actions, asked in bewilderment.
“It’s just pathetic to take out your anger on a wooden doll because things aren’t going your way.”
Harold sneered, and laughter erupted from around them. Whether those morons laughed or not, Mahir carefully examined the wooden sword he had used to smash the dummy.
“Sir Harold.”
It was chipped in places because he had handled it roughly. Mahir kept his eyes fixed on the wooden sword and continued, “Do you have the right to talk about the honor of a knight?”
“You’re starting to slander me because you have nothing else to say.”
Laughter was heard again from all directions. Hearing that, Mahir also burst out laughing. He shook his shoulders and chuckled along for a while, but the laughter gradually subsided.
In the end, Mahir was the only one laughing. He laughed so much that tears welled up in his eyes.
“What’s so funny?”
He had laughed first, but he must have felt bad because Mahir was laughing along with him. Mahir put his fingers inside the eyeholes of his mask, wiped away his tears, and said, “Isn’t it funny that you brought a bunch of friends because you’re too scared to duel alone? Or is it not funny?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“What does a barbarian know?”
The guys who had been quietly watching until now started to speak up one by one. The one who had called him a barbarian was the guy whose head Mahir had smashed earlier. He had been treated in the meantime, and he was wrapped in bandages.
“Many people usually watch as long as it doesn’t interfere with the duel. Watching the duel is also part of the training. If you felt intimidated, then there’s something wrong with your mental state, not with the people watching.”
“Do I look like I felt intimidated to you? Your eyes are crooked.”
Mahir chuckled again, and Harold tightened his grip on his sword. He could see the muscles bulging as if he was about to charge at any moment. Mahir sighed and tapped the wooden dummy with the wooden sword he was holding.
“Then does the honorable Sir Harold really think there’s nothing wrong with this duel?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m asking if this is really a deeply rooted culture that has been passed down from generation to generation in Calderia.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. So what are you trying to say?”
Mahir scoffed at his shameless face, which was feigning ignorance until the end. Well, with a personality that didn’t know honor and didn’t feel any shame, he must have oppressed the powerless child so much.
In the first place, someone who can change the master he swore allegiance to according to his taste cannot be called a knight. It was absurd that such a guy was talking about the honor of a knight at every turn.
Not wanting to say any more, Mahir sighed, put strength into the hand holding the sword, and leaped forward. The swords collided and crossed, and a dull sound echoed. Mahir listened carefully and focused on the sound.
Harold’s distance control was clumsy, probably because the sword he usually used was longer than the wooden sword. Mahir repeatedly moved, deliberately sticking close and then widening the gap.
As they fought with big movements, the people around them naturally began to move further and further away from them. Still, Mahir didn’t forget to be wary of his surroundings in case he was ambushed by any sneaky guys.
Fortunately, Harold’s speed wasn’t that fast. He was just a little strong, but he didn’t have any particular skills.
But because the wooden sword had been damaged while smashing the dummy, Mahir felt like he was running out of strength. Harold seemed to have noticed the condition of the sword and cleverly aimed at only one spot.
To prevent it from breaking every time the swords crossed, Mahir diverted the force to the side, but there was a limit. Inevitably, he had to lower his shoulder and twist his body greatly to avoid it.
Big movements create big openings. Mahir reflexively swung his sword to create distance, but Harold, anticipating his movement, followed closely like an arrow. The sword was about to hit the spot he had been aiming for all along, and at that moment, Mahir grabbed the blade with his other hand.
A look of dismay flashed across Harold’s face for a moment, and Mahir deliberately ran his hand along the blade for a long time before pulling it out.