This was the first time I had heard of the duel between the two successors, but the circumstances surrounding it seemed easily understandable. The duties and rights of the Guardian families were famous in the Magic Alliance. The Duke's family, Berkley. Guardians of the empire, protectors of the Penrotta royal family. Their power came from their duty and sacrifice for the kingdom.
Only the strongest in the empire could become the head of the Berkley Gratten family, and therefore, the family's doors were open to anyone with strength. In this, age, gender, and origin were not taken into account at all. Anyone with extraordinary talent in military strength could aspire to become the successor of the duchy. The successor had to be recognized by the emperor, just like their predecessors, so for generations the Berkley-Gratten family was called the Emperor's Sword. This was also the reason why aristocratic society, which valued tradition and dignity above all else, respected and recognized them.
"The current Grand Duke is a sword master. Is there really anyone who can actually succeed such a man?" I passed my arms around the newspaper son's shoulders and asked casually, "So, does the duel end when one of them dies?"
"Who fights so barbarously today? Have you been trapped in the field for four years? It seems you have trouble reading the news." There was a faint expression of doubt in the eyes of the two young men. I used the ultimate lie to deceive the two ingenious seniors.
"My friend, then you understand! Actually, I was sick for a long time and spent most of my days in bed, fighting between life and death, so I'm not up to date with many things. Haha, maybe I should have stayed home... isn't that so?"
The effect was immediate. "Oh God, what a sad situation..." "Ah? I didn't know you were sick! Very well, I'm in a good mood. Ask me anything that interests you. I'll answer as long as I don't lose money. By the way, my information usually requires a very expensive price."
That was a very sweet favor. At the moment I was about to ask, "So, do you think all of Dian Cecht's relics really exist?" from the center of the deck, a powerful wave came out and hit our bodies.
"Oh, my God!" I grabbed the arms of two men who were about to be thrown into the air like dust and identified the source of the sudden gust of wind. It seemed that in the meantime the duel had begun.
"Did you say her name was Jean?" It was clear that the wave had come from the silver-haired woman's sword. A weak energy still lay scattered on the thin edge of the blade. That level of swordsmanship was truly impressive. At that age? You're a genius. Definitely a genius.
Fortunately, the deck was equipped with a transparent partition wall just in case. The newspaper owner's son shivered when he saw people thrown into the air and then sliding down the invisible wall in the air. "Oh, no. You saved me from almost suffering a trauma. Thanks for your help." "My God, you did so well there. My body still feels numb... but, how did you do that?"
I replied sharply to his question full of slight wonder, "With courage."
It is said that the two most interesting things to see in the world were fires and fights. I concentrated on the duel, ignoring the chaos of the spectators. In fact, there was nothing to concentrate on. The momentum was very one-sided. Not even seven blows had been exchanged, but Oster, fifth in line to the Duke, had already been cornered.
"My God, oh, my God." I focused my entire mind on Jean's sword. I thought I was just hearing things before. If I wasn't mistaken, there was some kind of sound coming from her sword. It wasn't an illusion. The sword seemed to be screaming.
"I'll finish you the next time you get close. I'm not going to be easy, so come on!"
But how could a sword talk? And, furthermore, unlike Jean's rather noisy sword, there was no voice coming from Oster's sword. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hear any resonance. I could vaguely understand the reason. Oster hasn't yet reached the point where he can carry his will to his sword. The difference between the two swords surprised me.
But Duke Berkley Gratten had surely told me something about this. "Sir Andert, don't put your ego in the sword. Leave the sword alone. It's a sword, not a person. Remember, you must wield the sword, not let the sword wield you." Weren't those who put their ego in their swords achieving better results? But what mattered to me at that moment was not the relationship between the ego given by a sword and achievements. I could read the sword's emotions. How was that possible?
...the state of mind and body. Was that a turning point after all? This surprising vision seemed to be a new skill I had acquired a few days ago when I overcame the first wall of having total control over body and mind. Thanks to that, I suddenly felt curious. Will my sword also resonate? If so, how would it sound?
While I was contemplating this, Oster fell and the tip of Jean's sword pointed just below his chin. As soon as the winner was decided, the newspaper president's son clicked his tongue. "Until two years ago, the level of those two didn't seem to be very different. When did the gap between them get so big?"
"After all, the opponent is Jean Berkley Gratten. It's more than possible."
"The result of this week's duel is clear. Since the first heir in line didn't participate this time, it's Jean Berkley's victory." Apparently, the duel for the Berkley Gratten family continued during the noble council meetings. Is it some kind of annual event? There were many things to see around here, and just when I was about to get up something stupid was forming in my mind.
The talk of the two men, which had continued non-stop, ended suddenly. And before I knew it, there was a knight in front of me who had dragged her still hot feet from the fight. "Excuse me, I think we're meeting for the first time." It was Jean Berkley. "I am Jean Berkley Gratten. If you don't mind, could you give me a moment?"
In front of Jean's eyes boiling with manifest triumph, I remembered a conversation I had with the assassin butler in a secret meeting two days ago. "Did you say you were attending the noble council meeting? If so, I have to ask you a favor."
"What is it?"
"I request that you get rid of a certain person among the members of the aristocratic society who board the ship." The assassin butler pulled a black and white photograph and a thin sheet of paper from the envelope he had brought and showed them to me. "The target is Jean Berkley Gratten. One of the successors of the Berkley Gratten family and a patron the assassin guild called 'Clone'."
I took the photo from his hand. The woman in the photo seemed to be in her twenties. Her clear features and sharp eyes immediately gave the impression that she was not an easy person. A successor of the Duke's family. To the assassin butler, whose main goal was to survive, it would not have occurred to touch such a person carelessly. That meant...
"Did you work for this woman?"
The assassin butler's eyes turned cold. "Yes, the true owner of the 'Clone' assassination guild is this woman. When Jean Berkley Gratten dies, Clone collapses. Then the envoy who intends to kill me also disappears."
"It's not hard to kill, but if a member of aristocratic society dies in such an isolated space as a flying ship, it will surely be problematic."
"Don't worry about that. Because what I want is not Jean Berkley Gratten's death. I only hope her right to succeed is revoked." Deprivation of succession in the Berkley Gratten family meant complete alienation from the family.
"Clone, to be precise, is a secret guild owned by the Berkley Gratten family, not an individual. If Jean's succession is revoked and she loses her position, it will be a considerable time before a new master is named for the guild and a new system is established. That gap will be an opportunity for me."
"How do I do that?"
"I don't know."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Didn't you leave me alone to organize this pub too? I trust you too. If this plan succeeds, the trust between us will be further strengthened. Besides, I'm not asking out of thin air." The assassin butler then waved bait in front of me that I couldn't refuse. "I have useful information. If you return successfully, I'll give you the clues and information I learned about Dian Cecht's relics and their creator."
This was my first meeting with Jean. In a word, Jean was someone very questionable. Is this woman the owner of Clone? Jean Berkley Gratten. I never sent her any signal to follow me, but she instinctively approached me to possibly feel me out. I had seen people like this woman several times on the battlefield. A demon in swordsmanship. Jean seemed very much like a vessel possessed by her sword, she lived by it and died by it. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would run a guild that did dirty and cunning work every day. I was sure that was what the Duke must also have seen. So why did he leave the guild to her among all his many successors?
Well, whatever the inside story was, the answer I was going to give her was already decided. "Oh, I'm sorry, but I don't think it'll be easy. You see, I'm already married, haha. I hope you find another good partner, Miss Jean Berkley Gratten."
"Another good partner? Wait, that's not what I meant..."
"My God! Is it already so late? I'm late for my appointment, so I'll leave first." I quickly said goodbye to the bank owner's son and the newspaper president's son and returned to the room. This outing was worth it, as I was able to confirm who Jean was.
"I'll see her again when I have a plan." Then, for the rest of the day, I stayed in the cabin and enjoyed playing cards with Rue.
Time had passed safely and quietly at least until the second day.