Chapter 108

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 108

Chapter Title: Mock Battle Commences

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Things proceeded according to Leblain's plan.

Duchess Ballua relied on her for everything, from the schedule to even trivial details like the dress color.

Riding on Duchess Ballua's back, Leblain made her official debut in the central social circle and was forming connections with numerous nobles.

And the mock battle...

"Have you heard? About this year's mock battle...!"

"If it's about the Child of Destiny participating, we were just talking about it."

"What on earth are they thinking? Sending a nine-year-old child, and a girl at that."

"The Duvered young masters can't participate, so even if it's just the adopted daughter, they're trying to show off their military might."

"How cold-blooded. The rumors that Duke Duvered dotes on the Child of Destiny must all be just gossips' nonsense. Would a father who cherishes his daughter send her to a place with swordplay, even if it's supposedly a festival?"

"Well, that's true, but... In any case, there must be some scheme behind it."

The nobles gathered at the venue continued to press their own arguments. The capital was in an uproar over the news of Leblain's participation in the mock battle.

Duke Ballua.

Duke Ballua, who had been irritably drumming on the table, twisted his mouth.

"Damn them. They keep blocking my way every time."

He muttered through gritted teeth and turned his gaze to his sons standing before the desk.

Nils, the second son of the Ballua Ducal House, shrank his shoulders under his father's fierce glare and glanced at his older brother.

The eldest son, Heyton, smiled faintly.

"The participating knights are boys under seventeen. It's not like Ilya, the pride of Duvered, is joining, so why worry so much?"

There would be boy soldiers among the Ilya too, but they were all magic knights who wielded aura.

Aura users were prohibited from participating in the mock battle by the rules.

Since Ballua had received support from holy knights secretly raised by the temple, there shouldn't be a huge gap in skill even against Duvered's military.

"If there's no significant difference in skill, what matters is the commander's ability. Can a nine-year-old girl keep up with my heels?"

Raising the corner of his mouth arrogantly, he continued.

"Above all, Duvered's soldiers will place the highest priority on protecting their foolish little girl who dares to call herself commander. It'll hobble them right from the start."

"......"

"In that situation, a vulgar adopted girl like her is no match for me."

Only after hearing his son's confident words did a smile return to Duke Ballua's face.

"That's right. There's no way my son would lose to some lowly adopted brat!"

Laughing heartily, he beckoned to Heyton.

As his son approached, Duke Ballua wrapped an arm around his shoulders and whispered.

"Injuries sustained in the mock battle don't hold the opponent accountable by rule. Heyton, don't send that girl back in one piece."

"Of course. I need to leave her half-crippled to feel satisfied."

The father and son facing each other raised the corners of their mouths in smirks.

I pressed my back against the wall, standing straight, and sneakily glanced at my brothers surrounding me.

"One."

At Ishak's word, I shouted loudly.

"If it looks like I'll get hurt, run away fast!"

"Two."

"If you run into the enemy forces, threaten them first!"

Henri smiled brightly and asked, "What did I tell you to say?"

I quickly recited what I'd learned.

"Duvered returns double what it receives. Exterminating three generations is my family's specialty."

Speaking viciously with legs spread wide as instructed, Ishak crossed his arms and nodded.

"Good job."

"......But is it really okay to do that?"

I asked, my eyebrows drooping.

Retaliation for incidents in the mock battle was against the rules.

If you did, you'd be ostracized from high society, and even the Emperor would express disapproval.

In response to my words, Ishak replied triumphantly.

"Don't worry about it. Little brother specializes in dirty backroom tricks. Even if you make those threats, he'll handle the sleazy cleanup himself... Oof!"

Ishak, mid-sentence, got kicked by Henri.

Yohan handed me a few sheets of paper.

"I'll explain the mock battle in detail, so have a seat."

He pulled a chair over for me, and I nodded before sitting down.

At Yohan's glance, the aide and Nos unrolled a large map on the table.

"Families that pass the qualifiers will compete in a tournament format to decide the victor."

"Yeah."

"The qualifiers are in two weeks. Heirs from 23 families will compete in the zones marked on the map."

Looking at the map, I widened my eyes.

"In the capital?"

And it even included part of the shopping district.

"Yes. The qualifier event is Treasure Hunt. Whoever holds the hidden plaques until the time limit ends advances to the main round."

"How many plaques are there to find?"

Henri answered my question.

"Ten."

"I see......"

As I nodded, Yohan said.

"In the qualifiers, as long as you follow a few rules, it's like a real war—you can use whatever you want. Strategy is key."

The rules of the mock battle were simple.

[Do not kill.]

In other words, anything goes as long as you don't kill any participating noble heirs or soldiers.

In the early days of the mock battle, there were even cases of carving into captured soldiers' bones to extract enemy intelligence.

But that was only in the early days. Nowadays, it was customary not to inflict excessive harm.

"Families prepare on a house-unit basis. The families of participating nobles have already formed preparation committees. Nos, I, Henri, and Ishak will help you right up to the mock battle."

"We'll definitely win!"

I'll repay these people helping me and get my hands on that doddering fool.

With my eyes blazing, Ishak grinned.

"Good. Let's start training then."

"Yeah."

We'd brought in the participating soldiers via long-distance warp gate. They were all waiting outside the window.

I'd thought it was great that Ishak was going to train me, but everyone was staring straight at me.

"......?"

Tilting my head, I asked with a 'no way...' look in my eyes.

"Me?"

Train me?

With only two weeks left, not even enough time to plan tactics?

Ishak tossed a wooden sword at me with a flick, and I caught it reflexively.

"You need to learn how to evade."

"I have holy power, so if I put up a barrier..."

"You think the mock battle only has sword users? Mages and trainee priests are included, of course. There'll be plenty who can smash your barrier."

"My barrier's pretty strong, though?"

I deployed a demonstration barrier. But then.

Boom!!

It shattered in an instant from the wooden sword Ishak threw.

I didn't get hurt. Henri had layered another barrier to halt the sword in midair.

I stared at Ishak with rigid eyes, and he dusted off his hands with a grin.

"Strong?"

"......I was mistaken."

Making a tearful face as I spoke, Henri let out a chuckle.

"It's not just about having strong holy power to make a strong barrier."

I felt dejected, and Ishak opened the door for me.

"Follow me."

"Yes......"

Until the mock battle, I had to train to death on evasion, hightailing it out, and how to threaten.

And time flowed by—two weeks.

The mock battle began.

The nobles gathered in the imperial palace focused their gazes on the massive magic mirror.

Young nobles clad in armor emblazoned with their family crests bowed solemnly to the imperial palace flag with eyes full of fighting spirit.

"Glory to the Empire...!"

"Glory to the Empire!"

The nobles watching the children shouting with hands pressed to their left chests smiled fondly.

"There are an unusually high number of participants this year."

"Probably because of the Imperial Prince's direct guard. Even the ducal houses have two each participating..."

People's gazes centered on Heyton, who wore a cloak bearing the Ballua crest in the middle of the group.

And shifting to the side next to him.

The Duvered crest was engraved on the shoulder armor of the little lady struggling, grunting, to hold the oversized helmet.

"Oh dear......"

Small.

Truly small.

Leblain was already on the smaller side for her age, but amid these robust adolescents, she looked like a lone chick bouncing around in a pack of tigers.

"Duke Duvered's ambition is excessive."

Most nodded in agreement at the whisper.

"I wonder if she can even grip a sword properly......"

A noblewoman said with a pitying expression.

Lady Camilla, who had been watching Leblain through the magic mirror, let out a sigh and glanced at the Duvered household retainers.

Duke Duvered and the three young masters stared without blinking at Leblain, who was diligently supporting her slipping helmet with both hands.

'If you're that worried, you shouldn't have sent her.'

As most people feared, the child didn't suit the mock battlefield at all.

[Line up!]

The vice-commander of the imperial knight order, serving as judge in the magic mirror, shouted.

The participants bent one knee and lowered their heads.

Heyton and Leblain, as scions of a ducal house, each took a torch and approached the podium.

The two lit the massive candle with their torches simultaneously.

Sixteen-year-old Heyton lit it easily, but Leblain, burdened by the heavy armor, wobbled unsteadily and barely managed to light it.

As the candle flame rose, drumbeats echoed.

Dong- dong, dong, dong-!

The judge swept his hand through the air, and mages displayed the time limit overhead.

[10:00:00]

The mock battle had begun.

The nobles watching the magic mirror groaned.

"The first to be eliminated will probably be the Duvered lady..."

It was at that moment, as someone muttered those words.

Leblain kicked off from the candle pillar and thrust her sword straight at Heyton's throat in one go.

"......!"

"......!"

When the girl, having tossed aside the heavy helmet, smirked at the pale-faced Heyton.

Duvered soldiers who had been hiding in the plaza surged out all at once, surrounding Heyton and Leblain.

The nobles gaped at the audacious attack from the child who had seemed certain to be the first eliminated.

With the sword pressed to his throat, the pale-faced Heyton said to me.

"What are you doing right from the start...! It's customary to return to your camp first before attacking!"

"Customary, not a rule, right?"

I'd learned it back in my beggar days.

First strike wins.

In a fight, the one who lands the first blow wins.

'You're obviously planning something dirty, so why would I let you loose on the battlefield?'