By mutual agreement, the Battle of the Champions was decided.
Lawrence opened the city gates and stepped out, facing the vast plain where the forces of Barco and Lawrence stood against each other.
It had been a week since the messenger was sent, and now the time had come.
The judge sent from the capital, under the heavy gaze of those gathered, spoke in a deep voice, “I am Count Ertes. From now on, we will commence the Battle of Champions between the Barco and Lawrence families. Each family must designate three representatives within thirty minutes and submit the match list. The Battle of Champions is a sacred event blessed by Valhalla. Regardless of the outcome, both families must accept the results, and should any family refuse, I will judge them in the name of the Kingdom of Cairo.”
Count Ertes, dressed in a neat ceremonial robe that seemed out of place amidst the dust of the plain, was a figure sent by the central government for this duel.
The authority of the person presiding over the battle was of utmost importance.
Thus, as soon as both sides reached an agreement, they informed the central government, and Count Ertes made his way here personally.
With a firm step, Count Ertes took his seat at the prepared high seat.
Servants created a shade for him, and he waited leisurely, sipping wine.
On both sides, Barco and Lawrence were bustling with activity, preparing the match list.
Roman, who had been closely observing Barco's movements, suddenly spoke up, “I think we need to change the matchups.”
“What do you mean?” Lawrence asked, puzzled.
A week prior, after the decision for the Battle of Champions was made, Lawrence had already set the match list.
The plan was for Roman to take the lead and secure the first victory, followed by one of Lawrence's knights, and finally, Chris would finish the battle.
However, Barco's movements seemed unusual.
Although the distance from the capital to Lawrence was considerable, in an age where teleportation magic was advanced, Count Ertes had taken a whole week to arrive.
It was strange.
As time passed, Barco should have felt the pressure of interest, yet they did not appear anxious at all.
“It seems the Barco family intentionally delayed time. They likely needed it to invite an external master. The connections of the central government could make that possible, and the fact that the duel is happening today, a week later, suggests they have made thorough preparations.”
“If that’s the case, an external master might step forward as their champion.”
“Not likely.” Roman's gaze turned toward the Barco camp.
Unlike the bustling Lawrence side, they seemed to have already made their decisions. “Barco does not intend to send an external master as their champion. If they had that in mind, they would have acted to lead us to send our strongest champion first. That would be their best strategy, and if that’s the case, we need to prepare for their best.”
“So what’s the solution?”
“Chris will secure the first victory, and I will face whatever card Barco has prepared in the second round.”
“……!” Everyone looked surprised.
Barco's secret weapon was certainly not an easy opponent, yet Roman spoke as if he was unbothered by the risk.
It was hard to understand.
Why was he willing to go this far? Lawrence was an outsider.
Roman was risking his life for someone else.
Unlike Flora, who understood Roman's intentions, those who did not could only feel moved by his determination.
“Your kindness will never be forgotten. If the Lawrence family wins the Battle of Champions and overcomes the crisis of extinction, Roman Dmitri will be treated as a lifelong guest of honor for his kindness to Lawrence.”
Except for Flora, everyone showed respect for Roman.
The time had come.
Barco did not drag their feet and immediately revealed the champion who would step forward.
“I am Janssen of Barco.”
At the mention of Janssen, the crowd murmured.
Janssen was a three-star champion, boasting remarkable skill, and was among the best in the northeastern region.
In contrast, Lawrence's representative appeared rather humble.
“I am Chris of Lawrence.”
Chris stepped forward with a calm expression.
Those present recognized his face.
He was known as the disciple of Jonathan, who was said to be stronger than Janssen, and a handsome swordsman regarded as the greatest genius in the northeastern region.
The problem was that the Battle of Champions was not a place to test future potential.
While Chris might have an advantage in youth and talent, in terms of current skill, it was a battle between a three-star and a two-star champion.
The difference in aura could not be bridged merely by swordsmanship.
For those living within the realm of common sense, it seemed unlikely that Chris could win this duel.
“Why did they send Chris?”
“Such a waste of talent.”
“It’s a pity for Dmitri. To see Dmitri's talent wasted in Lawrence's fight.”
The reactions of the crowd reached Chris's ears.
He too understood that he was at a disadvantage, but making a decision did not require much contemplation.
The reason was simple. ‘My lord told me I could win.’ Roman's words were the reason for his decision.
Among the rankers, there were those who could ignore the difference in aura and achieve higher ranks, but that was a very rare exception.
It was an extraordinary event.
Roman had said that Chris could surpass the three-star champion, so Chris accepted the situation before him without hesitation.
On the day he fought Kevin, Roman's teachings had turned an insignificant rookie into a fighting dog, earning Chris blind trust.
He believed.
Roman was absolute.
Even if he were to die here, Chris would not regret his choice.
‘To grow stronger, one must take risks.
That’s why I follow my lord out of the well.’
Facing Janssen, the master of Barco he had heard countless rumors about, Chris felt he looked strong.
Therefore, he smiled.
If he could defeat Janssen, it would mean his choice was correct.
At the signal, the moment came.
“Begin!”
Without waiting for anyone, Janssen and Chris charged at each other.
The evaluations of the world were not mere empty words.
Janssen was fast.
His sword erupted with aura, swinging fiercely as if to kill Chris in one blow.
With a swift movement, Chris dodged the attack.
In an instant, he tried to exploit Janssen's opening with a side step, but Janssen did not retract his sword, continuing his assault without pause.
Before his eyes, everything flashed.
The blazing aura parched his throat, and he knew that being hit even once would mean death.
Chris quickly retreated.
Rather than exchanging blows, he focused on evading the enemy's attacks.
“You little rat! How long will you keep running?” Janssen growled.
He tried to provoke Chris into a direct confrontation, but Chris maintained his composure.
Facing the aura of a three-star champion with a two-star champion was a suicidal act.
He cast aside his pride.
Even if it looked disgraceful to flee, he dodged the attacks as efficiently as possible.
‘When I first sparred with my lord, he defeated me without using aura.
On that humiliating day, in front of everyone, I learned one fact.
No matter how powerful the aura, an attack must succeed to have meaning.
That hasn’t changed.’
He dodged.
Evaded again and again.
Like a rat, he avoided Janssen's attacks, thrusting his sword whenever he saw an opening.
With a flash! Blood splattered across Janssen's face.
It was a mere scratch, but the fact that he had been attacked first twisted his expression into a grimace.
“You little brat.”
With a roar, the aura exploded.
The three-star aura surged violently.
From that moment on, evasion would no longer suffice.
The sword, infused with aura, split the air, and a wider area was swept by the aura's impact.
The aura of a three-star champion was on a different level.
As the attack swept toward him, Chris inhaled sharply.
Boom!
“Cough.”
He coughed up blood.
Even though he had barely managed to defend himself, it felt as if his insides had been completely twisted.
It was a reasonable outcome.
The reason people highly valued the distinction of ranks was that even if one performed well 99 times, a single failure could lead to defeat.
Staggering slightly, Chris felt the pressure from Janssen, who thought he had seized the momentum, and pressed forward.
The internal shock hindered his steps, and at this rate, it would only be a matter of time before Janssen's sword took his head.
‘Damn it.’
Chris was different from Roman.
Roman possessed monstrous skills that could overwhelm an opponent even in the same situation, but Chris had yet to step outside the realm of common sense.
He felt sick.
Perhaps he was like a small bird trying to follow a stork, only to have its legs torn apart, but he did not want to die like this.
He gritted his teeth.
Not yet.
He had not learned everything from Roman.
His comrades in the Dmitri Order had laughed at his choice to follow Roman.
Ignoring the scornful gazes of those who criticized him for making such a foolish choice, he followed Roman, but he could not die so easily.
Was it not shameful? If he died like this, Chris would never be able to face his comrades again, even in death.
‘Let’s break free from the common sense of the world.’
Roman had said, questioning why one would use aura in such an inefficient manner.
His common sense had crumbled, but he still could not escape that realm.
It was inevitable.
Even his master, Jonathan, and even the first aura swordsman, Emperor Alexandros, trained in the same way.
It took courage to step outside the bounds of common sense.
And now, facing Janssen's aura, Chris recalled Roman's figure.
‘The indiscriminate outpouring of mana does not allow one to fully unleash the power of aura.
Just as my lord demonstrated tremendous power with a small amount of mana while destroying Flare, I will concentrate the power of my aura into a single point.’
He swallowed hard.
At the crossroads of life and death, he saw Janssen charging at him.
“Die!”
Janssen swung his sword.
The movement was grand.
He was confident that Chris would not face him head-on, relying on his own strength.
Chris drew up his mana.
Unlike others who would explosively release it, he focused on condensing the aura into a single point, just as he had learned from observing Roman.
Swish.
The manifestation of aura.
The size of Chris's aura was small.
Janssen sneered, confident of his victory.
But then.
Clang!
“……?!”
The clash of swords.
Chris's aura did not shatter.
It flickered precariously but withstood the opponent's attack, an unexpected variable that Janssen had not anticipated.
In that moment, a flash.
Boom!
Mana exploded.
With a rapid attack, Chris's sword gleamed and severed Janssen's head.
Splash.
Blood scattered into the sky.
As Janssen's head floated, the eyes of those watching were filled with shock.
In the first duel, the victor was none other than Chris.
Thud.
Janssen's head rolled on the ground.
Those watching could not believe the reality before them.
‘This is insane.’
‘A three-star champion lost to a two-star champion?’
‘No way!’
It was beyond common sense.
A shocking outcome.
Chris, with a pale face, wiped the blood from his sword, and only then did the soldiers of Lawrence erupt in cheers.
“Wow!”
“Unbelievable!”
“Chris! Chris!”
“Chris! Chris!”
It was truly chaos.
In a match that Barco had assumed they would win, Chris boldly claimed the first victory.
Now, they needed just one more win.
The soldiers of Lawrence, thinking they had cornered Barco, were already flushed with excitement as if they had won.
In such a situation, the Barco lord was taken aback.
‘…… Janssen lost.
This has completely ruined the winning strategy I had in mind.
If Janssen had won, I planned to end the match in the second round, but now the third round has become crucial.’
Incredibly, he was not worried about the outcome of the second round.
It was only natural.
If he could not fully trust his winning card, he would not have spent a fortune to bring him here.
At that moment, someone stepped forward.
Despite Janssen's defeat, he appeared unfazed.
Revealing himself to the crowd, he placed a hand on the sword at his waist and smiled as he introduced himself.
“I am Homeros of Barco.”
At the name Homeros, the soldiers of Lawrence, who had just been celebrating their victory, fell into shock and fear.
“H-Homeros?”
“Gasp.”
“Why is Homeros here?!”
The ranking that represented individual strength was based on data compiled by the Temple of Valhalla, updated annually and known throughout the continent.
A four-star champion.
He was ranked as the 49th strongest in the kingdom.