Chapter 29
Since the duke told me to do as I pleased, there was nothing more to worry about.
“Pig sounds more like it suits you than me.”
I looked at Bamal, whose plump cheeks were stuffed with fat, and laughed.
“No, wait. Come to think of it, pigs are actually said to be pretty smart and good at running. Hm.”
I narrowed my eyes and slowly looked him up and down.
“Maybe you look more like a monster than a pig…”
At my words, Bamal’s face flushed bright red in an instant.
“You—you! How dare you, without knowing your place!”
“The one who doesn’t know their place here is you. I am the legally adopted heir of the Clasta ducal house, the rightful successor who will inherit the title. Can you still say such things to me? Or is this what the Conrad marquisate considers noble dignity?”
“You—! How dare you insult our house?”
“I told you, you insulted me first.”
No matter what I said, it seemed my words weren’t reaching Bamal’s ears anymore.
He hurled the plate he was holding at me.
Clang!
The plate shattered at my feet.
The cake that had been on it splattered onto my shoes.
“Orphan with no parents, raised in an orphanage! Hah! Even if you act all high and mighty now, once the duke gets tired of you, it’s over!”
‘Ah. That explains it.’
I think I’d just figured out why no one had spoken to me since I entered the ballroom.
The Clasta Duke’s personality was widely known to be fickle and cruel.
And I was the child he had suddenly brought home from an orphanage.
To them, once he lost interest, I’d be tossed aside again—so why bother engaging with me?
‘Maybe someone even encouraged it.’
Like Bamal and his little gang, perhaps?
When I stayed quiet, he must have thought he’d won, because his voice swelled with pride.
“So that means you’ll be abandoned by your parents twice! Do you think the duke will protect you when you’re nothing but a commoner again?”
He clearly wanted me to get angry or start crying.
It was so obvious it was almost funny.
“Kneel and apologize right now.”
He shoved his shoe toward me.
“Yeah! Apologize to Lord Bamal immediately!”
“You’re the one who’s wrong!”
The nobles standing around him began chiming in, forming a loose circle as if to pen me in.
“Well, you were rude, but if you apologize, we’ll let it slide this once. That’s the mercy of a noble, after all.”
“As expected of Lord Bamal! So magnanimous!”
“Ah, yes, this is the true duty of a noble. Even an arrogant commoner would be moved by Lord Bamal’s generosity!”
It was like they were waiting for the perfect chance to pile on.
Bamal’s mouth twitched, already tasting victory.
‘So a whole group gathered here just to pick a fight with me? What a circus.’
When I still didn’t respond, one of his lackeys stepped forward.
“What are you doing? Apologize right now!”
He reached for my shoulder, clearly about to force me to my knees.
I caught his hand before it touched me—and twisted it hard in the opposite direction.
“Argh!”
“You—you—!”
“How dare a commoner—!”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve all this noise.”
I flung the boy I was holding aside.
I saw the faces of the others tighten just a bit.
“How about you apologize now? Then maybe I’ll let this go.”
“Shut up! As if I’d apologize to the likes of you! You wanna fight?!”
Bamal drew his sword, and those around us gasped.
“W-wait, Lord Bamal, that’s—”
“No matter what, she still belongs to the Clasta ducal house—”
“Shut up! She keeps making me mad! If you get in my way again, I’ll cut you down first!”
Seriously, how had the Conrad Marquis raised this kid to turn out like this?
I grew up without parents too, but I wasn’t this bad.
Perhaps frightened by the sight of Bamal’s sword, even his cronies began inching back.
As Bamal charged toward me, I raised my index finger.
“You attacked first, remember?”
The person I was most worried about—the duke—had told me to act freely.
So I would.
I lowered my finger.
Thud!
Bamal stopped dead in his tracks, sword still raised.
“Y-you—!”
The veins on his forehead bulged as if they were about to burst.
His sword arm began trembling.
Slowly, his grip weakened.
Clang!
The sword clattered loudly to the ground.
He hunched forward, bracing himself on his thighs.
He glared up at me as if he wanted to tear me apart.
“Guess a noble young master really does grow up eating the best. You’re holding up pretty well.”
Then I pushed harder.
Boom!
“Argh!”
Bamal collapsed, dropping to his knees, then to all fours, holding himself up on his elbows.
“Since noble lords seem to have trouble apologizing, I decided to help you along.”
“Lord Bamal, what’s wrong?”
“Are you all right? You! What did you do to him?!”
“Nothing strange. Just pressed him down with mana.”
Crushing someone under an invisible weight, like a block of iron, was one of the most basic applications of mana.
“Release this at once, you demon! You—you used dark magic, didn’t you?!”
Bamal shouted hoarsely.
“I’ll let you go if you apologize for picking a fight.”
“As if I’d apologize to the likes of you!”
“Yeah? Then I’ll just turn it up another notch.”
That’s when—
“I think you’d better stop.”
The voice was youthful, but carried a refined grace.
Without a sound, she approached and, with a simple gesture, dispelled the mana I’d wrapped around Bamal.
Then she naturally helped him to his feet.
“Everyone’s getting frightened. At this rate, the party will be ruined.”
She looked about my age.
Waist-length silver hair, green eyes, a gentle smile.
I knew who she was instantly.
Ines Vianeb.
Niece of Pope Riegan, only daughter of the illustrious Vianeb ducal house, which had produced a former empress.
By blood, she was one of the five most distinguished people in the empire.
With a delicate beauty like morning dew, a kindly manner toward all, and impeccable grace, she was said to have already captivated the younger social circles.
Thanks to the Pope and her talented parents, she had herself grown into a formidable talent despite her age.
And ever since she began entering the martial tournament, she had never once failed to take first place—the strongest contender by far.
‘Yeah, she’s the strongest one here.’
The fact she’d broken my mana hold on Bamal proved she was no slouch.
“L-Lady Ines!”
Bamal fidgeted, straightening his clothes as if ashamed of his state.
I could feel the atmosphere in the ballroom shift.
‘If this were a fairy tale, she’d be the princess and the hero, and I’d be the villain.’
With a calm smile, Ines said,
“Bamal was in the wrong, but you went too far.”
“When someone’s swinging a sword at you, there’s not much choice.”
I glanced around and shrugged.
“If I’d drawn my own sword, this place would have turned into a mess, and others could’ve been hurt. That would have been a much bigger problem, right?”
Of course, with my skills, disarming and countering Bamal would’ve been easy—but there was no need to say that out loud.
Ines paused, as if considering, and then spoke.
“Then you could have apologized to Bamal before he drew his sword.”
“Why should I apologize?”
“Because if you had, Bamal would have been satisfied and never drawn his sword. Your refusal to apologize could have put others in danger.”
What utter nonsense.
She still wore that gentle smile, but in my head, only one thought repeated: What the hell is she talking about?
I had no idea what this girl was thinking.
“He’s the one who picked the fight. Why should I be the one to apologize?”
If she starts spouting something about ‘noble decorum,’ I’ll start invoking the Clasta name.
But the words she spoke next weren’t what I’d expected.
“Because you’re the one in the wrong.”
“…What?”
Had she not seen what actually happened?
“A diamond remains a diamond no matter how dirty it gets or how much it rolls in the mud. But a stone, no matter how much you polish it, is still just a stone.”
Still smiling sweetly, she continued,
“I’ve heard of your exploits—how you faced a monster the other day.”
Like she was explaining something to a clueless child, she spoke gently,
“But there isn’t a single noble who can’t handle a monster like that. The only difference is when they reach that level. Right now, you may be a little ahead, but in time, the others will surpass you.”
Her words were so absurd I didn’t even bother to interrupt.
“When your skills hit their limit, the duke won’t protect you anymore. By then, Bamal will have become a far greater swordsman. If you don’t want to regret it later, it’s only right for you to apologize to him now.”
‘So basically…’
You’re just an orphan with no idea who your parents are, destined never to become a true talent, and the nobles here will all outshine you eventually.
So learn to grovel early.
‘She is related to Riegan, all right.’
That same smiling face while spewing utter garbage—just like him.
When my expression soured, Ines looked at me with concern.
“Does it upset you to have the truth pointed out? Still, there’s nothing you can do. You have to accept painful truths to grow.”
“No, I’m not angry.”
In fact, I felt like laughing.
“So, according to you, that means you’re stronger than me?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
“Oh, right. You’ve won every tournament you’ve entered, haven’t you? Then you must be the strongest among our age group. Honestly, I’d be fine fighting you here and now, but…”
A more amusing idea came to me.
“I’m entering the tournament this time too. I’ll beat you there and take first place.”
Bamal would have lost his temper at that, but Ines’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest.
Instead, she looked almost pitying, as if worried for my sanity.
“If I win, will you apologize to Bamal?”
“Sure. But if I win, Lady Vianeb, you kneel and apologize to me.”
“I’m not like Bamal.”
“Even so, I’ll be the one taking the crown.”
I smiled confidently at her.
“And you won’t even make it past the preliminaries.”
