Chapter 6: A Noble’s Respect, a Warrior’s Respect

Under our anxious gazes, the infantry recruit and the cavalry officer in the duel selected their weapon s and stood face to face.

Ridaddis held a knight’s longsword. This weapon was the cavalry’s second choice after the lance. It was not only very sharp but also quite heavy, usable both on horseback and on foot, and it was extremely deadly whether thrusting or slashing.

Fred held an ordinary short sword, the standard weapon of the Light Infantry. On the battlefield, a Light Infantry soldier normally held a small round shield made of wood or iron in his left hand and a short sword in his right. The advantage of this weapon was that it was easy to control; even a beginner could quickly become skilled with it. On a crowded, chaotic battlefield, it could minimize accidental harm to one’s own comrades. But its killing power was clearly much smaller.

The referee Echville inspected both weapons, made one final effort to stop the duel, and finally had no choice but to announce that the duel had begun. As soon as his words fell, Ridaddis rushed forward with big strides. In the tavern, Fred had provoked him again and again, making him lose face in front of his fellow officers. At this moment, he probably wished he could swallow Fred in one gulp.

Just as he closed in, he swept his longsword diagonally up from lower left to upper right, slashing straight at Fred’s right side. This strike was perfectly judged in distance, timing, and angle. It was sudden and fierce. If it hit, the opponent would be gravely wounded or dead.

An ordinary swordsman would find it hard to block a reverse slash rising from below. At least, we had never encountered one in our recruit combat training. Facing such an attack, the best way I could think of was to retreat — get as far as possible out of the opponent’s reach. Better wounded than dead.

But Fred seemed petrified by the sword, standing there completely still, watching the blade fly at his right waist.

“Ahhh—!” A scream came from behind me, followed by the sound of someone collapsing to the ground. I knew it was Roll. That lovable coward had fainted at the bloody scene he expected. But this time no one laughed at him. I also couldn’t help closing my eyes, unable to bear watching my comrade get cut apart.

“Clang!” A sound of metal striking metal rang out in the arena. The first scene I saw when I opened my eyes was Fred blocking Ridaddis’s sword. His grip was very strange. It was not the standard grip we had seen and learned, with the blade pointing up. Instead, he held the short sword reversed like a dagger, hiding the blade under his right elbow and leaning his body forward. At the critical moment, he intercepted that fatal blow.

Immediately after, he lunged forward with one violent step. The short sword under his elbow slid along the opponent’s blade, letting out a short, harsh scraping sound, and went straight for the opponent’s throat.

This strike was even more treacherous, more vicious, and more powerful than Ridaddis’s reverse slash. And all of us experienced members of the “Deserter Squad” knew that reaching top running speed took a certain amount of acceleration time. But Fred seemed to reach top speed in that single lunge. That required explosive power beyond what ordinary people could imagine.

By this time, Ridaddis’s longsword could not be pulled back in time to defend. He could only watch helplessly as the sharp blade in his opponent’s hand flew toward his throat with lightning speed. His eyes were full of despair. He dropped the longsword and tried to retreat backward. But his speed was far too slow compared to Fred’s. Even though he had correctly chosen to retreat, his neck could not escape the range of the short sword’s blade.

One move. Only one move. Who could have imagined that a battle-hardened cavalry squadron leader, a professional officer who had received strict military training, would die at the hands of a young recruit in just one move?

“Ah… thud.” It was Roll’s scream and fainting sound again. The poor boy had barely regained a little consciousness before he saw such an exciting scene, and the imagined sight of a person’s windpipe being cut and blood spurting out frightened him unconscious again.

But again, no one laughed at him. I closed my eyes once more. What was about to happen was truly too bloody.

“Was it you who called us ‘gray dogs’ just now?” There was no heart-rending death scream, and no exciting sound of blood spraying. Fred’s icy voice came again. I opened my eyes and saw Fred’s sword pressed tightly against Ridaddis’s neck. The two stood face to face, the distance between their faces too small to fit a fist. Fred was still staring hard into his opponent’s eyes, with flames of pride and anger burning in his eyes. Ridaddis’s face was pale and covered with cold sweat; there was no expression except fear.

Strange to say, the slightly shorter Fred looked much taller than the burly cavalry squadron leader.

“D-don’t… don’t kill me,” Ridaddis said fearfully.

“Answer my question, sir!” Fred roared.

“Yes, don’t kill me!” Ridaddis shrieked. His voice was comical, but no one could laugh.

“Say after me: I am an iron-skulled mangy dog.”

“I…” The pride of being a cavalry officer and a noble made Ridaddis stay silent.

“Say it!” Fred applied force with his hand and drew a thin line of blood on Ridaddis’s neck.

“I’ll say it, I’ll say it. I am an iron-skulled mangy dog.”

“Louder, sir!”

“I am an iron-skulled mangy dog!”

“Even louder!”

“I AM AN IRON-SKULLED MANGY DOG!!”

“Say, I apologize to the noble and brave Light Infantry officer Mr. Fattel.” Although Mr. Fattel had nothing to do with being noble and brave, I thought it was very fitting and appropriate to say that at this moment.

“I apologize to the noble and brave Light Infantry officer Mr. Fattel,” he said hurriedly.

“Remember our wager, sir.” Fred withdrew his sword and turned to Echville. “As agreed, sir, I didn’t kill him.”

Echville, still in shock, only said “Mm, mm” twice. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end he didn’t say anything.

Fred turned and walked toward me, showing the first smile I had ever seen on his face. That smile shone on his handsome face like bright spring sunshine, almost able to melt ice and snow.

“Pick up your ring. Let’s go get a drink — my treat,” he announced.

Everything should have been over now. Fred had convincingly won the duel and earned the sincere admiration of everyone present. But at that moment, something that shouldn’t have happened occurred.

Just as he was about to reach me, I saw Ridaddis, who had been slumped on the ground behind him, suddenly grab his sword and scramble to his feet like a madman, charging over. His face was twisted, and his eyes held the madness of a wild beast. Everyone shouted in alarm. Echville, seeing something was wrong, rushed over to stop him. Unfortunately, he was too far away and couldn’t make it in time.

Almost by reflex, I shoved Fred to the ground and lay on top of him, taking the slash that Ridaddis brought down. Don’t ask me why. I didn’t know at the time either. I just felt that this was something only I could do, and something I had to do.

The longsword cut into my back, sliced through my flesh, and came out of my body. Immediately after, I felt a burning pain as if I had been scorched by fire, and all my strength left me. I could feel my back soaking through in an instant, a thick liquid flowing over my skin.

Even the lowest of characters would rarely do something as despicable as a sneak attack after a duel had ended. In high society, a person who did such a thing would not only have no honor left, but might even have his existing titles and rank stripped away. The soldiers around grew furious. They stepped forward and blocked the despicable officer, disarmed him, and some couldn’t resist throwing punches and kicks to vent the anger they had held in for a long time. Even the cavalry officers watching from a distance showed contempt, expressing great disgust at Ridaddis’s actions.

“Ah…” Lying on the ground, I saw the furious Fred stand up and swing his sword at Ridaddis, who was now surrounded. That strike had no technique at all; it was purely a rage-filled, all-out blow. Everyone felt that Ridaddis, who had committed such a dishonorable act and even launched a sneak attack after losing the duel, truly deserved to die. There was no sympathy for him, not even from his comrades.

“Clang!” It was Echville who blocked Fred’s attack. Though he hadn’t been fast enough to stop Ridaddis’s savage revenge, he was in time to stop Fred’s counterattack. After knocking aside Fred’s short sword, Echville immediately threw a heavy punch at Ridaddis, sending him flying a good distance. Then he turned and wrapped up Fred, who was about to charge again. One block, one punch, one hold — the whole sequence was done in one smooth motion. In that instant, both sides lost the ability to continue the fight. At that moment, Echville displayed the fighting quality of a true soldier.

“Save your friend first!” Echville’s shout woke the frantic Fred. He quickly pushed through the crowd and rushed to my side. Seeing the bloody wound on my back, he didn’t know what to do. He could only hold me tightly, getting blood all over himself. This was also the first time we ever saw him let himself become filthy and disheveled without caring, just holding me and weeping silently.

“Don’t worry, it’s a light wound,” I heard Echville say. The next moment, my clothes were torn open from behind, and then I felt a sharp pain in my back.

“Ahhh—!” After I screamed, a cool feeling spread from the wound.

“It’s only a flesh wound. Rest for a few days and you’ll be fine. Keep this bottle of medicine. If his wound opens again, sprinkle a little more on it. This stuff is very effective against knife wounds and burns.”

Then I heard the sound of cloth being torn, and then I felt someone tightly bandaging my wound. When Fred, finally relieved, helped me up, I saw Echville looking at me with concern, his upper body bare. His armor was on the ground. I knew his clothes were wrapped around my wound.

“Don’t worry, I won’t die. No need to risk your life for that idiot. Don’t look for trouble.” I shook my head weakly, comforting Fred, whose eyes were full of tears. Even a slight movement brought me a tearing pain from my wound.

Ridaddis was still lying on the ground, unconscious. Blood was still flowing from his nostrils. His nose bridge was probably broken. That punch from Echville had really been no light thing.

Just as I was about to say something to thank Echville, this tall, upright man suddenly drew his sword and thrust it into the ground, kneeling on one knee in front of us. Only then did I have a chance to see the whole weapon. Unlike ordinary silvery white gleaming swords, this sword was pitch black all over, with a faint, terrifying aura flowing around it that made people almost afraid to touch it. The street was covered with dirt, but the passing pedestrians and vehicles had long packed it down tightly. Yet this sword, with one gentle thrust, sank more than an inch into the ground — and it made no sound at all. It was truly a rare blade.

“What are you doing, sir? Please get up.” I was startled. This was the first noble I had ever seen kneel to a commoner, and he was also a senior officer so many levels above us. I wanted to reach out and help him up, but the pain in my back stopped me. Fred looked at him proudly, as if he should kneel to us, and as if we deserved it.

“Young sir, you have proven your honor to us with your courage and superb skill. Please allow me, on behalf of my subordinate, to thank you for your mercy in not killing him, and to apologize deeply for his shameful behavior. I swear on my family’s honor that he will pay for his disgraceful actions during the duel. I guarantee you all a satisfactory answer. I hope you can accept my apology.” As he said these words, Echville kept looking directly into Fred’s eyes, and his eyes were full of a knight’s sincerity.

Fred looked into his eyes for a long time. Finally he let out a breath and said, “I accept your apology, and I believe you will handle this matter fairly.”

Echville then turned his face to me. “Young sir, you have proven your sincere friendship with admirable and great courage. To gain your friendship is undoubtedly a great honor. Your actions have shown us the brotherly spirit most worthy of admiration in an outstanding soldier. Please accept the sincere salute of an old soldier. I, Echville de Rafter, pay you my highest respect.” As he said this, he bowed his head to me in salute.

“I… you… don’t… please get up first… then… talk…” I was only a little bartender. I had never experienced such a situation. At this moment I was completely flustered, not at all as quick-tongued as I was in the tavern.

“You are worthy of accepting a knight’s respect, Jeff.” Fred gently patted my shoulder as a signal. His voice was full of pride and a barely suppressed excitement.

“I… I accept. Please get up first.”

“Then, thank you.” Echville stood up, looked at the two of us, and his eyes were full of kindness again. “You are both good soldiers. Take care.” Then he turned and walked toward the other cavalry officers.

Not far away, the cavalry officers who had witnessed their companion do something astonishing looked stunned and hurriedly gathered around to question him. Echville waved them away. Then they dragged Ridaddis, lying on the ground, away. Watching his back, Fred said to me:

“He is a true nobleman, and also a true warrior.”

Just as Fred was carefully helping me into the tavern, intending to let me rest at the boss’s inn first, the crowd once again burst into earth-shaking screams.

“Ahhh—!”

Roll, who had just woken up, saw two figures covered in blood and filth, like dead souls or evil spirits, passing beside him. Unable to bear such a huge mental impact, he fainted for the third time.