Chapter 17…
“…A duel?”
At Dante’s bold reply, even the Emperor’s gaze wavered for a moment.
The chamberlain, the imperial guards, and even the attendants including Milleon—all turned to Dante with expressions full of shock and disbelief.
A mere ten-year-old child, not even asking to be taught by the Sword Empress, a being who had reached the pinnacle of the blade, but to cross swords with her?
This was beyond arrogance—it bordered on foolishness.
But Dante stared straight at the Emperor with unwavering eyes.
He wasn’t unaware of the weight of the words he had spoken.
But he knew he was qualified.
“My father has also granted me permission.”
At Dante’s words, a suffocating silence fell.
Hearing that Marquis Zenon himself had approved made everyone’s faces twist with doubt.
Even Milleon, who knew some of the circumstances, was shocked—so there was no one who wasn’t.
“Do you understand that the name Aquites carries a weight equal to a thousand pieces of gold?”
“Of course.”
“Then you mean it is no lie.”
The Emperor closed his eyes briefly, then let out a low laugh.
“How bold you are. Yet I like that spirit. The Sword Empress is a being comparable to the very sword of the Empire. No one dares to speak lightly of the sword in her presence, and yet, for you to bear such intent—you are worthy of recognition.”
Instead of rebuke, the Emperor’s voice carried amusement and a sense of approval.
His gaze shifted backward.
“What do you think?”
“Your Majesty speaks the truth.”
A boy, hidden until now behind the Emperor’s overwhelming presence, spoke.
Adrian Ca Roian.
The Crown Prince—who would one day be called the Iron-Blooded Mad Emperor.
Dante’s gaze turned toward him.
Adrian’s eyes too were fixed on Dante.
His stare was sharp, like an awl, as though piercing into Dante’s very soul.
In that gaze, Dante sensed a kind of insight that could not be obtained through mere power or knowledge.
Hm?
Something was strange.
He clearly remembered Adrian as a tyrant consumed by madness, who waged endless wars and massacres.
But the aura Adrian exuded now was nothing like the mad emperor he had known.
His eyes are intense, yes, but clear. Not the eyes of one tainted by madness.
From Adrian, Dante even sensed warmth and goodness.
This was not the same man who had once drenched the continent in blood and terror.
Did he change as he grew?
But no—it was too early to think he was simply hiding his true nature.
He was still just thirteen.
Unless he too had returned from the future like Dante, there was no way he could possess such composure.
Then what had turned Adrian into the Mad Emperor?
Confusion swirled in Dante’s mind, and with it, a new question arose.
The future was not set in stone.
Just as he had begun to change things by returning, Adrian too might become twisted by some future event.
The goodness in Adrian’s gaze forced Dante into deep thought.
Perhaps Adrian was not an enemy to be stopped, but someone who could still be changed.
After silently observing Dante for a while, Adrian finally spoke again.
“As His Majesty said, such courage and boldness deserve high praise. It is not my place to judge, but merely the thought of witnessing the sword of Aquites excites me.”
His voice carried a weight unbefitting a child, along with a subtle curiosity toward Dante.
“I like your answer. Looking at the two of you, I feel this Empire shall remain peaceful for a long time.”
The Emperor smiled warmly as he looked between Adrian and Dante.
His face was filled with satisfaction, both paternal pride and admiration for the extraordinary potential of the two young boys.
“However, regrettably, Sword Empress Isabella Everhart has not yet arrived in the capital.”
At the Emperor’s words, Dante quietly nodded.
It was as he expected.
“She will likely be delayed by a few days. She is traveling with the Everhart Duchy’s delegation, so you must wait a little longer.”
Dante expressed his gratitude for the Emperor’s explanation.
Though he hadn’t truly expected to meet her immediately, the certainty of waiting still left him feeling restless.
“While you remain in the capital, see that you are not inconvenienced. When the Sword Empress arrives, I shall inform you at once.”
“I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace.”
Dante bowed deeply again, replying with utmost respect.
“You have done well. You may withdraw now.”
At the Emperor’s order, the chamberlain opened the audience chamber doors.
Dante gave a final bow to both the Emperor and Adrian, then turned and left without hesitation.
He could still feel Adrian’s gaze on his back, but Dante did not look back.
They would meet again soon enough.
***
Leaving the audience chamber and walking down the long, splendid corridors of the palace, Dante heard the excited whispers of Milleon, Patrick, and Elaine behind him.
“Sir Dante, did you really just request a sparring match with the Sword Empress?”
Patrick asked in disbelief.
His face was a mix of shock and pride.
“That was the reason I came to the capital in the first place.”
Patrick and Elaine turned to look at Milleon as though hearing this for the first time.
“You knew?”
“No. I knew he wished to meet her, but never imagined he would ask for a duel…”
Milleon gave a baffled laugh.
Patrick turned back to Dante, looking incredulous.
“Are you truly certain about this? Of course, if our lord himself permitted it, it is not my place to object, but still…”
“Of course.”
Rather than offer long explanations, Dante simply showed confidence.
That alone was enough.
Sensing it, the knights asked no further.
“Huh? It’s over already? I—I don’t remember anything…”
Only as they reached the palace gates did Eina snap out of her daze.
She had been so tense that she’d barely been conscious.
Well…
Dante thought. If he himself had felt nervous, then what more could be expected of her?
He patted Eina on the back with a smile.
“You did fine. Don’t worry—you made no mistakes.”
“R-really? That’s a relief…”
She sighed in relief and moved closer to Dante, clutching tightly at the hem of his clothes.
It seemed she still hadn’t shaken off the overwhelming pressure of the palace, the Emperor, and Adrian.
Only once they boarded the carriage did she finally relax, collapsing into her seat with a long sigh.
“My legs were shaking so bad, I thought I was going to die.”
Dante gave a small smile at her simple honesty—it eased the complicated feelings within him.
“You did well.”
“Hehe, thank goodness. I was so worried I’d embarrass you, Sir Dante.”
Eina laughed innocently in response.
“When we get back, I’m totally bragging to my friends! I met His Majesty the Emperor and the Crown Prince!”
As she chattered excitedly, Dante gave a faintly troubled smile.
For if things went according to his plan, he would not be returning home for quite a long time.
But for now, he said nothing.
He feared Eina might stubbornly insist on following him.
That cannot be allowed.
He would tell her later, to prevent such trouble.
As Dante listened to her endless chatter, the carriage rolled through the bustling streets toward the family’s mansion.
The residence Marquis Zenon had prepared in the capital stood in a quiet area slightly removed from the city center.
“We have arrived.”
When the carriage stopped, Dante and Eina stepped out.
Before them stood a grand mansion—less imposing than the imperial palace, yet still befitting the prestige of House Aquites.
As the heir of the family arrived, the waiting attendants moved swiftly and precisely to greet him.
“Your room has been prepared. Please, come inside.”
The head maid, a stout and motherly woman, spoke respectfully.
But Dante shook his head.
“I shall unpack my things myself. For now, I will head straight to the training grounds.”
The maid looked surprised at the unexpected words but quickly bowed.
“As you wish, young master.”
Leaving Eina behind, Dante set out for the training grounds with three knights.
“Sir Dante,” Milleon called, stepping up beside him.
His expression was a mix of surprise and deep satisfaction at Dante’s resolve.
“You’ve just returned from the audience with His Majesty. Will you not rest first?”
Patrick and Elaine seemed to share the same concern, waiting for Dante’s reply.
“I cannot waste time. If the Sword Empress is arriving in a matter of days, I must not squander even a moment.”
He would ready his body to its utmost peak.
That was the minimum preparation—and the respect due to the Sword Empress.
“I understand.”
The knights, seeing his determination, asked no further.
They simply followed him in silence.
At last, they reached the training grounds—an expansive space laid out before them.
Dante took a moment to walk the perimeter, checking his own condition.
The long journey and the tense audience had left him fatigued, yet his evolved body was still brimming with vitality.
“Sir Milleon,” Dante called.
“Yes, my lord?”
“From today, I want you to properly teach me how to handle mana.”
Though he had received bits of instruction during the journey, training while traveling had been far from easy—limited by both place and prying eyes.
He had only been able to learn in short, restricted bursts.
But now was different.
Here, in a perfectly secure location, he could train all day without restraint.
“Of course. I shall teach you everything I know.”
Milleon nodded firmly, as though he had been waiting for this moment.
To teach a genius like Dante—this alone was the greatest honor.
Having been the first to recognize Dante’s limitless potential, Milleon felt nothing but pride.
“You have my trust.”
Dante nodded and strode to the center of the grounds.
Standing alone, he drew his nameless sword.
Before the Sword Empress arrives, I must master the handling of mana.
Swoooosh—!
Dante’s blade sliced through the air.
The first strike was light and smooth, but soon a fierce force surged from the blade, spreading like a storm around him.
The sensation of mana flowing along the sword’s edge…
Controlling that delicate current—something unimaginable in his past life—was a completely new realm.
The training grounds filled with the echoes of his strikes and faint waves of mana.
On the knights’ faces, awe and astonishment were plain to see.
