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Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison
Chapter 122: A Friendly Spar

Chapter 122: A Friendly Spar

Chapter 122

A Friendly Spar

When Illumca and Martell stepped to the Training Ground, they saw rows of Knights in training clothes gathering by pillars surrounding a wide field. They were shouting and hurling insults at each other.

At one corner, A man in the white colors of the White Lion Knights was being treated while Klein was confronting a smarmy-looking man.

Illumca remembered him. He often looked at her with lust-filled eyes that made her shiver in disgust. He was the right-hand man of Prince Mikael, whose name escaped her.

“What’s happening, please?” Martell poked one of the White Lion Knights and pulled off his most curious and innocent face.

“Uh? W-well, those bastards from the Prince’s Private Guards went overboard while doing joint training, he broke a few of Kent’s ribs.”

“Those highborn bastards! This already happened five times this week!” a man to his right added angrily. “Just because a lot of us are commoners we had to swallow this!”

“What does he mean?” Illumca asked Martell.

“Most members of the White Lions are chosen by virtue of merit. It is one of the changes that the current King had made during his reign,” Martell repeated what he learned from Alugor. “But members of the Prince’s Private Guards are all sons of high-ranking Nobles.”

“That’s right,” the man spat in anger.

“So, you grit your teeth and keep your heads down because you don’t want them to use their backings to hurt you…or your significant ones,” Martell commented. “Is that right?”

There was no need for an answer because Martell could see the man’s jaw tightening in anger.

Ah. The arrogance of Nobility has begun to corrode the Knights themselves.

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While the Captain of the Prince’s Private Guards, Lionel, was talking down to Klein, his eye caught the sight of the woman who had been haunting his dreams lately. Her silver hair brushing against the wind, her cold eyes that made his body shiver in delight.

“Good afternoon, Lady Illumca,” he called out to her, ignoring Klein’s admonishment. “I’m sorry you have to see us in such an unsightly state.”

The crowd parted, revealing the beautiful Dark Elf standing with her arms folded. Illumca clicked her tongue and said, “We are just here to wait for the Captain to finish dealing with some unsavory problems. And I see that it is, indeed, unsavory.”

Ooh, a veiled insult. She is starting to learn Mistress’s style. Martell thought. “Alright, Captain, can you finish up with that man and continue our tour of the Palace?”

Klein sighed appreciatively at the Strawberry-haired boy’s suggestion. He was also starting to get hot from Lionel’s arrogance. It was a good chance to break this stalemate.

“Oh, a tour of the Palace?” the curly-haired Knight smiled. This was a chance to get to know the Dark Elf, to show her his gentlemanly conduct. “How about I give you that instead? I am well acquainted with the Palace.”

“The Captain is fine,” Illumca answered briskly. “He is a friend of ours. And he did not look at me as if I am a piece of meat.”

Lionel became indignant about this. Did she not know that I am one with Noble blood?! It was a boon to her that I am interested!

“I advise you to reconsider. It would be great for you to get to know a Noble,” Lionel said. “It might help you in more ways than one,” the man insinuated.

“No,” Her answer was simple.

“You heard her. Let’s break this up, shall we? I will lodge a formal complaint soon,” the handsome blue-haired Captain said as he walked away.

“How dare you ignore me!” the man yelled. “I am the son of a Marquis! You will not talk that way to me!”

Martell let out a sigh of ridicule while Illumca simply glanced at the pompous youth like he was trash.

Lionel shouted angrily from having his pride hurt by the rejection. “I guess like that Hero Killer, her companions can only tempt people with their feminine wiles!”

It was almost an instantaneous movement. Illumca was already about to fire out a spell when she heard his words, but Martell was fast enough to grab her by the wrist. Proof of his training.

“Let me,” the boy whispered.

“I don’t care about my name, but you have slandered my Mistress,” his words were calm, and his face was smiling. Yet his words carried a dangerous tone.

“Hoh? Then show all of us her proof! let us spar!! Let everyone see what kind of strength you people have to be able to defeat a Hero’s party!!” the man took up a blunt sword and waved it at them.

“As you wish,” the boy accepted readily and began to walk to the field.

“I don’t need your help,” Illumca said as he walked by.

“I know. I am saving him from you,” Martell said with a low voice. “At most, I’ll just teach him a lesson. But when it comes to the Mistress you often forget yourself. If you slipped -” Martell made a small gesture with his thumb across his neck. “- It’ll cause her problems.”

“…” Illumca took a step back. “Fine. But you better make him eat dirt.”

“I am planning to.”

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The Knight taunted him while waving his sword. “Come on now, slave! It’s too late to back down! I’ll show you who is your better!!”

“Can I borrow some swords?” he asked Klein, who looked at him incredulously.

“I think you should back down. That bastard might not be as strong as the Hero, but he could give a B-Rank Hunter a run for their money.”

“I must defend my Mistress’s honor. And I am not that bad with a sword.”

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Klein sighed when he heard his answer. “Take what you need.”

Martell walked over to the pile of blunted swords in the corner and awkwardly gathered them in his short arms.

“Little dog! Do you think having more swords means you can win against a Knight?!” a member of the Prince’s Private Guard shouted. He nudged his friend while laughing mockingly.

“Let him!” the Knight who challenged him guffawed while making a mocking gesture. “Let’s see how a slave handles a sword.”

“So noisy,” Martell dropped all the swords in his arms onto the ground. They fell over each other, making a discordant noise. He grabbed one by the hilt and waved it inexpertly as if a child playing with a sword.

Looking at this, the Training Ground was quickly filled with mocking laughter from the Prince’s men. As for the White Lions, their faces became ugly from the unsightly display. All of them had the same thoughts. If he could not hold a sword, he should have just surrendered there and then.

“It’s over for the boy,” Klein’s subordinate said. “He should have surrendered. At least he will keep his honor.”

“Shut up and watch,” Illumca scoffed. “That little prankster has something up his sleeves.”

Martell’s ears twitched as he held the sword before his chest. Judging from his stance, he is still a bit worse than Nick.

“What’s the rule?” he asked.

“Simple, the first one to yield loses. Before they yield, anything but fatal strikes is allowed.”

“Even Skills?”

“Yeah,” the man sniggered. “Even Skills.”

“Understood. Captain Klein. If you would do the honor?”

Klein glanced at both parties, then realized that he had no way of stopping them. He put both arms in the air and brought them down.

Lionel stepped forward with a quick thrust, intending to finish the battle as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Martell launched himself backward while throwing the sword he was holding at his opponent.

“Weak!” Lionel slapped the sword away with the side of his own.

“Telekinesis: Control.”

With a snap of his fingers, the swords that were dropped haphazardly on the ground rattled and then rose to face Lionel. The man had never seen such a thing and was caught off guard. Two swords flew at him from the front. He managed to deal with them, but another came from above. He could hear it cutting the wind as it flew by his ear.

“What the - ?!”

“How is he doing that?!”

“A Unique Skill?”

The bizarre show of Skills bewildered them. Beset by panic, he threw all caution to the wind and made a desperate attack, but Martell had seen this coming and stepped forward with his body bent down low, striking the back of his leg with the flat of his sword and put his sword near his neck.

“You! You are cheating!! That’s not swordsmanship!!”

“If my Mistress is here, she’d laugh at you for that narrow understanding of the sword. Who said a swordsman cannot use more than one sword?” the boy said, his sword tip almost touching the skin of his neck. “Now, do you yield?”

“Grrh!!”

“Well?” he pressed the sword tip closer.

“I yield! I yield!”

Martell smiled at his surrender and put away his sword. But just as he turned to walk away. Lionel grabbed his fallen sword.

“Imbue Ice!”

Lionel launched himself forward with a blunt sword wrapped in ice. If it hit, the sharp edge of the ice would have split the defenseless Martell in twain. But Illumca was faster. She threw herself onto Martell and tackled him away from the direction of the sword.

“Lionel, you bastard!!” Klein shouted angrily. He did not bother with formality anymore. “That was a foul move! This is a spar and you yielded!!”

“Shut up!! He cheated!! That was no swordsmanship! That was trickery!!”

Outrage filled the Knights who upheld honor above all else. As for the Prince’s Private Guards, they could not allow a mere slave to besmirch their honor.

“That…was a killing move,” Illumca said angrily. “You are going to pay for that!”

Suddenly all the Knights felt a chill behind their necks as if the cold edge of a sword was pressed against their skin.

Klein had felt this familiar feeling before, back in the Chamber of Licai. And once he saw the flutter of the white robe passing him by, he knew that things just got worse for the arrogant Captain.

“Mistress,” Martell said. “I have shamed you.”

“No. you performed well.”

“Connie! Wait! Don’t kill him!!” The man was surprised by his own words. Why would he even think that she would kill him? Klein did not understand it himself. “He...will be admonished.”

“Admonished? You see, Klein. I value my disciples’ life quite highly,” Connie said as she stepped into the courtyard. “Higher than some garbage that knew only of backstabbing.”

“She’s being nice,” Illumca slowly brought Martell a few steps back. “That isn't good.”

“If this is the battlefield and it is a matter of life and death, I will not fault him. In fact, I’ll even reprimand my disciple for being careless.”

“But this is a friendly spar. That little shit there set the rules. And then, he broke it,” The blonde girl walked step by step, each step like a condemning sentence. “Where are we as a Kingdom…as humans…if there are no rules? No law? No gentlemanly conduct during a friendly spar? Why; we might as well be…animals.”

Lionel was enraged, especially now that his pride was hurt. “That slave overestimates himself! I will have him die for his crime!”

“For the crime of being better than you? Are you blaming your lack of Skill on a boy much younger than you? Hah!”

“You useless bitch!” He roared, there was no more of the Noble façade he was sporting. All there was, was a man blinded by pride. “Ice Slash! Ice Slash!”

Connie evaded the first slash, picked up something from the ground, and parried the second one. She had not fully recovered, but to punish someone at his level did not need much strength.

“What poor swordsmanship. What difference is this to a child swinging a sword mindlessly?” Connie parried the next attack, smoothly let her weapon spin three times around the sword’s body before catching it with the other hand and used the momentum to disarm him with one swift move.

“I remember you have a slightly acceptable sword by your side before. Looks like your Skills do not match your weapon.”

“She overpowered the Captain so easily!” one of his men said in shock.

The more attentive Knight then realized something even more shocking. “Wait, that’s not a sword! That’s a tree branch!”

"How is that possible? Even if that is a blunted sword, how could such a weak branch not break?"

Connie rudely kicked the fallen Lionel with one leg, then proceeded to address the audience.

“It seems to me that you all think that I defeated the traitorous Hero Party without my own power. And It seems to me that you all need a reminder!” she bellowed. “An example of what would happen if you crossed my bottomline.”

she raised a finger in front of her chest. Her eyes glaring at the dishonorable man.

“I will take away your dignity, just as you had thrown yours away.”

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Later, when the Knights were asked about what transpired in the Training Ground that day, they all would answer in a similar fashion. That all they saw was the young girl swinging a finger at him. There was no Skill or Spell used.

But what Lionel saw at that time was countless poisonous insects crawling onto the tip of her fingers, melding into a peerless demonic sword that writhed and pulsed. He could feel its sharp edge even before it was swung.

The man let out a gut-wrenching scream and clutched at his neck desperately as if trying to hold his neck together. He then fell to his knees, eyes turning upward; his face turning blue from lack of air.

Those who saw did not expect any of this to happen, but when they finally digested what just happened, the White Lions immediately exploded into cheers and ululations.

“Captain!” His men quickly came running to his help, but then they drew back as they smelled something.

“By Ju-“ one man started to curse, but he quickly clamped his mouth to stop himself from uttering the Goddess name together with what was happening in front of them.

“He dirtied himself!” Martell exploded in laughter, clutching at his stomach. Illumca blocked her nose with the back of her hand, frowning in disgust.

Connie saw the mix of anger and fear directed at her and smiled. “Good. Is there anyone else who wants to question our Skills today? Perhaps teach me about what real swordsmanship is?”

No one there dared utter a word after seeing such a display of power. From then on, rumors of Connie’s fearsome swordsmanship would become the talk of all the Knights and soldiers. Enough to become tall tales.

“Great work you two,” Connie clapped both Illuma and Martell on their shoulder. “You did not shame me. But you two still need a bit of work when reading people.”

“What…did you – no – how did you do that?” Klein stared in stupefaction still. Connie noticed that his hand was squeezing tight on his sword. A privilege of the Captain to bring arms into the Palace. “Did you feel that?” she questioned him.

“…I fear that I cannot explain what I felt.”

“Mmm…” Connie quite liked this man and decided to give him a bit of clue. “That was Sword Intent. Bloodlust just like I emitted before, focused onto a single target. A powerful killing intent forged by a true Master of the Sword.”

“Then I suppose I am far behind you in this matter,” Klein uttered as he slowly relaxed his grip.

“The Path of the Sword is not just one. You have yours and I have mine.”

Klein let out a tired sigh. “I am sorry that this happened under my watch. We have been at odds with them lately.”

“If Connie did not interfere, I would have roasted him to crisp,” Illumca said harshly.

“Yes, but sometimes it’s better to send them an example. An example to show them what we could do.”

“I agree with Mistress. Having their Captain incontinent in front of the public would not look good,” Martell said mischievously. “Making someone piss and shit like that with a stare. Amazing! Can I do that too in the future?”

“Yes, you can,” Connie assured him. “But for now, let’s go home. I’m tired.”