The Count’s Youngest Son is a Player

Chapter 30

As Raul stepped forward with confidence, it was Baron Zender who found himself flustered. He had mobilized soldiers and even drawn weapons, but those were merely for show, intended to intimidate. The moment swords were actually swung, today’s incident could escalate from a simple familial dispute into an all-out war. Furthermore, the secret weapon was to be a last resort; using it now could potentially worsen matters. ‘It seems I have no choice but to stick to the plan, as prepared. If only Raul had been the pushover the rumors suggested, tch.’

Baron Zender clicked his tongue in his mind and shouted, “You’ve fabricated documents to slander me! And for insulting me and our relatives here with your naivety, you must apologize. Raul de Ashton, I demand a ‘Proof of Bloodline’ from you!” He ripped off a bear’s head-shaped brooch from his collar and threw it at Raul’s feet.

“Proof of Bloodline?” A voice echoed questioningly from a corner, causing a stir in the room. The Proof of Bloodline was a right bestowed only upon the Ashton family’s bloodline. It was the ultimate recourse against unjust commands or directives from the head of the family or those of higher rank, allowing for resistance. It was a right to request a duel, usable only once in a lifetime.

‘Is this really the right situation for that?’

‘A duel challenge to a young relative?’

‘Without an official witness, and isn’t this just absurd?’

As the murmuring among the relatives suggested, it was an unreasonable demand that under normal circumstances would not hold.

“Baron Zender, are you serious? Why should I accept such an absurd request?” Raul asked incredulously, to which Baron Zender replied sternly, “Consider this my last mercy to you. It will be less shameful to surrender through a duel rather than having it forcibly taken from you.”

“And you get to claim you took my possession through an honorable duel rather than by force?” Raul’s tone was mocking, but the baron didn’t blink.

“Make your choice. If you refuse, I will resort to force.”

Though Raul seemed ready to retort, he suddenly closed his mouth, appearing lost in thought, to which the baron internally sighed in relief. ‘Yes, a hot-headed youth you might appear, but if you think it through, you know what answer you should give.’

A brief moment later, Raul finally spoke, “The terms of the duel? Surely, Baron, you do not intend to personally cross swords with me.”

Thinking that Raul was almost persuaded, the baron slightly smiled, “Each side will choose three representatives, and through one-on-one duels, the side with the last man standing wins. Naturally, since this is a Proof of Bloodline, the representatives must be from the bloodline.”

“That’s absurd! How could one side be so unfairly disadvantaged?” Philip, unable to remain silent, interrupted. While Baron Zender’s side had an abundance of representatives to choose from, Raul was alone.

“What’s the problem?” the baron asked, as if it was no issue. “There are dozens of relatives here. If they believe Raul is right, surely someone will stand with him. It’s not my fault if nobody does.”

“That’s preposterous…!” Philip attempted to protest again, but Raul stopped him with a gesture.

“What’s the wager? If you win, I suppose stamping that absurd document will suffice. What will you put on the line, Baron?”

“Well, I doubt it’s necessary to say, but do you have any particular request?”

“A fair duel demands a fair wager. If I win, I’ll take the mansions of all relatives who signed that document.”

“What?!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

The relatives erupted in protest, clearly in fear of losing in a situation they had thought was to their complete advantage. But Raul was done conceding.

“If you don’t agree to these terms, then there is no duel. What do you say, Baron?”

Baron Zender gazed at Raul with an enigmatic look in his eyes.

‘What’s he thinking?’

At a time when he should be bringing unaffiliated bloodlines to his side, he’s setting such conditions?

Is it because he knows he can’t win and wants to preserve his pride?

Either way, for the Baron, there wasn’t particularly an issue. If he couldn’t secure the seal on the documents, the house in question was the least of his problems.

“Fine. I’ll accept your condition. Will you now accept the proof of bloodline?”

Baron Zender asked, prompting Philip to approach Raul and say,

“Your Highness, this is an unfair duel. Don’t you think we can resolve this without necessarily accepting?”

Philip was right; there was no need to accept such a duel.

Baron Zender might think he’s in control of the situation, but Raul was already fully prepared.

However, Raul had already decided to accept the duel.

‘There’s no reason to avoid this quest.’

[Unexpected Quest: Proof of Bloodline]

Rank: C

Objective: Win the duel

Additional Objective: Win against all opponents alone

Description: The noble bloodlines of the capital are making unreasonable demands. Prove them wrong with your prowess.

Rewards: Experience points, coins, ????

“Sir Philip. You don’t think I’d lose, do you?”

“Honestly, it’s not that….”

Philip was the one who knew Raul’s abilities best.

Even judging purely by swordsmanship, Raul was already beyond the beginner level of expert, and with his mysterious power included, how many here could actually defeat Raul?

Nonetheless, variables always emerge in actual combat. Philip was merely worried those variables might exceed Raul’s calculations.

[Don’t worry too much. And if it seems like a problem is going to arise, Sir Philip, you jump in and wreak havoc! They’re probably expecting as much anyway.]

Raul instructed Philip through guild communication.

The duel was merely a show to build up justification on both sides.

Regardless of the outcome, they weren’t going to easily concede and move on.

“I’ll accept the proof of bloodline. But what about the notarization, Baron? It’d be troublesome if you claim it’s void after losing.”

At this, Baron Zender grinned and said,

“Fortunately, we have a distinguished guest with us today. Would you mind?”

Baron Zender’s gaze turned to a young knight with sharp eyes.

“Ah… I was hoping to just watch quietly and leave, but it can’t be helped.”

‘Who’s this?’

‘Wasn’t he a royal knight?’

Ignoring the murmurs from the crowd, Raul asked,

“And who might you be?”

Baron Zender, with a bright smile and an exaggerated gesture, introduced him,

“If we are to speak of this gentleman, he is the ‘Rising Star of Ruben Kingdom,’ renowned across the capital for his excellent swordsmanship and character. He is Young master Haphael de Randal, the fourth prince of the Count Randal household.”

‘Count Randal household?’

‘How come a prince from the Count Randal household is here?’

The previously uninformed crowd showed surprised expressions at the arrival of this unexpected figure, while the three knights beside Raul looked ready to draw their swords at any moment.

“Whoa, calm down. I was merely invited here, so please don’t glare. I came to greet Young master Raul among other things, but who knew such a regrettable, no, interesting situation would arise!”

Haphael’s smirk seemed incredibly mocking.

However, Raul remained unfazed.

“The Count Randal household, is it? I’ll trust that a family claiming to be noble will judge fairly.”

“Of course.”

* * *

With the agreement reached, the duel was quickly prepared. The representative for Lord Zender’s side was decided to be Lord Zender’s two sons and Baron Kespi, who appeared to be in his mid-30s. As expected, Raul was to compete alone. He had hoped that one or two might change their minds, but they seemed more interested in watching from the sidelines than intervening. “Luckily. It would be troublesome if they clumsily took sides now.” Raul felt relieved instead. There was no longer a need to distinguish between trash and less trash.

“Let’s begin the first match. Representatives, forward!” Raul’s first opponent was Aaron, the third son of Lord Zender. Aaron was very angry at Raul for ruining his 18th birthday party yesterday. “Damn it. After six months of effort, I finally managed to dazzle them… and he had to appear just as I was about to accomplish my great feat!” Raul had caused him to lose his catch.

Moreover, he disliked the cocky expression on the young man’s face and his irritating habit of spouting informal language. “Fine, I won’t kill him, but I will have my fill of revenge. I’ll toy with him until he begs for mercy!” Aaron, a third-year student at the academy and an advanced sword user, never thought he would lose. To him, Raul was merely another wealthy country boy who had just arrived in the capital. There were rumors of him winning a rural swordsmanship competition, but then, most nobles who came to the capital claimed to have some title or another. The rumor that he was a feeble offspring of the Count’s family seemed much more credible. “Of course, he talked big today, but it’s not like I haven’t seen country braggarts before.”

As Aaron was looking forward to taking out his frustrations on Raul, the match finally started. “You’re dead, you bastard!” Aaron, wielding his double-edged bastard sword, swung it forcefully at Raul. Thump! The next moment, Aaron felt stars exploding in his eyes before losing consciousness. Thud.

The hall was enveloped in silence for a moment. The match had barely started 5 seconds ago when the victor was decided.

“Hmm. The winner is Raul!”

Haphael, who had been watching with folded arms, declared the win with an inscrutable expression, albeit belatedly.

“What? A single strike?”

“What happened? I didn’t even see it properly.”

“Was it all just a baseless rumor?”

“Foolish. To be so careless, tsk tsk.”

The spectators murmured among themselves. The outcome was vastly different from what they had anticipated. Despite Raul’s fearsome demeanor, he was only 15. Boys his age typically barely managed to qualify as sword users at best. Even those called geniuses usually demonstrated skills at the advanced level of a sword user. Thus, it was natural for them to assume Aaron, an advanced sword user, would win.

“This is unbelievable! That idiot, Aaron!!”

Lord Zender’s mustache trembled with rage. Unless there was a significant gap in skill, such brief matches usually happened due to one side being careless. The reason Aaron was chosen first was to give him an opportunity. Regardless of the rumors about him being a dunce, he was still the direct descendant of a respected family. Winning would have earned him a measure of fame, but he had squandered it.

“Shall we proceed to the next match right away?” When Haphael asked, Raul silently extended his sword forward and nodded his head. Then, the second representative from Lord Zender’s side stepped forward. “This time, I’ll be your opponent.”

(To be continued)