The Villainous Noble’s Father - Chapter 22

It was truly a match worthy of being called a great battle.

Even though both fighters were still rough around the edges, they gave it everything they had in a fair and honest fight. You could see both their confidence and uncertainty in themselves, as well as the respect and fear they held for one another.

The clash between these two, with nothing but endless potential ahead of them, was absolutely captivating to everyone watching.

“Don’t lose, Lord Leonard!”

“Show them the pride of the northern nobles!”

“Go go, Lord Leonardo!”

“Alan! Show some guts!”

“Doesn’t matter if you’re a noble or a commoner! You’re a warrior! Give it your all!”

“Ready, set, go Alan! You can do it!”

At first, the crowd’s cheers were just following the vibe of the arena. But as the match went on, their energy grew like they’d been fans of these two forever. I call this kind of thing “muscle-brained enthusiasm,” but maybe it’s just the passionate and straightforward spirit of the Valient Kingdom’s people.

“The lightning-fast Lord Leonard’s knife hand strikes at Alan! But Alan, wrapped in white flames, catches it! Did he see it coming?!”

“And now Lord Leonard follows up with a flurry of kicks! Whoa! Alan dodges perfectly!”

“In pure martial arts, Leonard definitely has the edge as a knight, but Alan’s reaction speed is incredible!”

“And that boy has fangs, he can tear out a man’s throat in a split second. The Black Lightning Lion and the White Flame Tiger are completely evenly matched!”

Commentator Yulia and Analyst Principal Wiseman are going all out with their commentary.

Wait, are they actually keeping up with the fight while both combatants are in red-eye mode? What kind of superhuman commentary skills is that!?

While I’m reeling from that completely unrelated shock, the match itself is reaching its peak. Both of them are in bad shape now. Their clothes are torn, and their bodies are covered in bruises, welts, and burns.

But the fighting spirit burning in their glowing red eyes hasn’t faded in the slightest. In fact, it’s only getting stronger.

“They’re both near their limit. The next exchange will probably decide the winner.”

King Carlisle, standing next to me with a serious look, murmurs quietly. He looks all cool and hard-boiled saying that, but he’s been so into the match that he’s flinging popcorn everywhere.

With a quiet sigh, I scan the stadium again.

Everyone’s completely absorbed in the match, cheering for the two fighters. The ring was destroyed by Leonard’s opening spell, so the “no fighting outside the ring” rule has already been tossed aside.

And even though the aftershocks of the magic attacks are hitting the spectators, nobody seems to care. The rules are loose. Safety protocols? Nonexistent. But what we do have here is a heat so intense it drives people wild.

This is a sacred battleground, brutal and raw. And honestly, no matter who wins, the outcome won’t change.

The entire arena will erupt in thunderous applause. Winner or loser, it won’t matter. Both will be celebrated like heroes.

This match will probably change the country, bit by bit.

The nobles will realize that even commoners can be incredible. And the commoners will see that they have real power too. What that will lead to in the future, or what will become of Leonard and the others, even I can’t say.

But, right now…

A cold voice echoes in my mind.

“Echo Team to Command. Target confirmed.”

“Target is a four-man squad operating in a formation cell. Currently under surveillance at Point 02, back of Corridor A8.”

Right now, I have to protect the children. That’s my job as their parent.

Elsewhere…

The Royal Academy’s stadium, it’s a building steeped in history. It was originally built as a training ground for the Royal Knights, and at times even served as a rallying point for powerful noble factions.

In other words, it’s old. A patchwork of renovations and repairs.

Before this match, the principal received funding from a duke’s house for a large-scale renovation. But the construction was rushed, only about a month to complete. A ton of workers were brought in to make that happen under a pretty sloppy management system.

Now, thanks to King Carlisle and me, the stadium is packed with nobles from all over the country. No terrorist would pass up a chance like this.

“What’s the status?”

As soon as I was summoned via telepathic magic, I entered the tent just outside the stadium, our Finster Knight Order’s temporary command post.

“Sir! We’ve been waiting for you!”

About ten knights stop what they’re doing and salute. A massive, bald brute of a man, like some mountain bandit boss, steps forward to speak.

This is Viscount Gerald von Garland, commander of our 3rd Knight Division. Nicknamed “Demon Slayer” and among friends, things like “Bald Ogre” or “Bandit Boss.” Still, he’s a good guy.

“We’re at Alert Level Yellow. About five minutes ago, we spotted a four-man squad believed to be demons. Echo Team is currently observing them.”

“You think it’s them? That terrorist, Odim?”

“Highly likely. But whoever they are, our job doesn’t change. Scum is scum.”

He may look rough, but Gerald is still a knight commander. Speaks well, though his content is, let’s say, very ‘direct.’

The sighting was in Corridor A8, a high-security underground area. Just a few hundred meters ahead and they’d be right under the spectator stands. The stadium has a large underground section, designed for maintenance and access.

“Perfect place to plant a bomb.”

“Indeed. Even if we caught them, a suicide detonation could take out a bunch of nobles. One of the worst-case scenarios we anticipated. But still within expectations.”

“What’s our countermeasure?”

“We’ve set up mana-blocking devices across the entire underground. Also, we’ve already identified the demons who’ve infiltrated.”

Gerald hands me a file, all calm and efficient. 

Mana-blocking devices. I developed them during the war. About the size of a crate of oranges, and when activated, they scramble mana movement in a 50-meter radius.

Demons, as their name implies, are beings who use magic. Their entire combat style is based on mana. With just this device, we can shut down their ridiculous attack power. A beautiful invention, if I say so myself.

“What if they smuggled in gunpowder?”

“Possible. But any amount they could sneak in wouldn’t be enough to pose a real threat.”

Good point. This world has magic, so science and tech are way behind. Gunpowder exists, but it’s weak compared to what I remember from my past life.

“Echo Team is led by Varli, a close-combat specialist with no reliance on magic. We’re confident they can handle it.”

“Good. What about the other teams?”

“They’re working with the royal guard to patrol within a 5-kilometer radius. So far, no suspicious people or objects have been found.”

From what I remember in the game, Odim’s group wasn’t a big organization. There was a leader and four generals pulling strings behind the scenes. We’ve only spotted a squad of four so far.

And based on the profiles I’ve seen from Commander William, none of them match any of the demon characters I remember.

Hmm. Not sure how to read this. We’ll take care of the four infiltrators. That’s obvious.

Varli, the famous “Swordmaster” known for cutting down a hundred men, is leading a team of close-quarters combat experts. There’s no way we’ll lose. 

Still, something doesn’t feel right.

“You’re thinking this could be a distraction?”

“Yeah. They move, and we respond. That’s too obvious. Wouldn’t the enemy have expected that?”

It’s just a gut feeling, but it keeps nagging at me. Even when I was wrong about Yulia, I wasn’t completely off the mark.

“Hm. You clearly have something on your mind. LEROY! You here?! Leroy!”

Gerald senses my unease and yells out.

Leroy? Oh! Leroy! That’s right! He’s around!

“Y-Yes, sir! Reporting in!”

A short, chubby man in his mid-forties bursts into the tent looking totally nervous. Among friends, we call him “Tiny” Leroy. The nickname comes from him being short, chubby, timid. and apparently, also poorly endowed. Not that I’ve checked.

He has very little mana, and his family basically disowned him for being a failure. Kind of a tragic story, really. You’d think this would lead to a classic underdog comeback arc, but, nope. His story just ends up kind of sad and pathetic.

Well, it’s Leroy, after all.

He has worked in the duke’s knight order for 20 years, but he’s no swordsman, no good at magic, and not especially smart.

Still, I welcome him with a big smile.

“Been a while, Leroy! Sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but I need your help.”

“Y-y-you’re talking to me, Duke sir?!”

Is he a chicken?