Chapter 58 : Chapter 58

Chapter 58. I Am Rich Now (3)

"He picked Soldier A."

"Of all people, why him…"

"Tsk tsk tsk, they say an unlucky bastard is unlucky no matter what he does."

The soldiers of the Baron Schneider family wore dumbfounded expressions.

In fact, the moment they saw the knight that Viscount Balson had designated step forward, several of the soldiers of the Baron Schneider family frowned.

'He's quite good.'

'Is he around 3-star?'

'I could probably hold my own, but…'

'If you're asking me to win…'

The knight designated by Viscount Balson did not seem to be lacking in skill.

Although all they had to do was fight on equal terms to prove that the soldiers of the Baron Schneider family were no less than knights, it was still a burden to fight an opponent whose victory could not be guaranteed.

Among the soldiers of the Schneider fiefdom, there were about two individuals who could guarantee victory against that knight named Miranda.

The guard captain, Sanson, and the vice-captain, Soldier A, or rather, Oliver.

It wasn't that Oliver was originally stronger than the other soldiers, or that he was talented.

Oliver was just Soldier A, a normal soldier with normal talent and normal abilities.

However, in the past five years, the intensity of Oliver's training was much higher than that of the other soldiers.

Why, you ask?

Let me tell you a truth of group life.

It's not good to be marked. Not good at all….

[This bastard, why does he have so many questions when I tell him to do as he's told?]

[Are you defying me? Are you?]

[Soldier A, is it you again? Again?]

[Die. Just die, you bastard. Please just die!]

For the simple reason that he was a bit more curious than the other soldiers, a little more defiant, slightly less tactful, and incredibly unlucky, Oliver was marked by Patrick.

He would annoy him by asking questions one after another during training, or twist the exercise methods on his own and go to the brink of qi deviation, and even….

[From today, it's the Three-Sword Style.]

He had even appeared with a bandana on his head and a sword in his mouth after spouting such nonsense.

Patrick, in both his past and present lives, had never met such a hopeless case. Naturally, he was put under special management, and Patrick's special management meant hell itself.

[Your feet are stopping? Go on, stop them. This Giant Wolf seems to be hungry anyway, so even if I let it take a bite, it won't kill you, will it?]

[Uwaaaaaaah…. You crazy Young Master bastard!]

And so, while Patrick was specially managing Oliver, the other soldiers could be a liiiiiiittle bit more comfortable.

At those times, the soldiers felt a deep gratitude welling up from the bottom of their hearts for Oliver.

But there was a reward for having experienced more hell.

When discussing the military power rankings of the Schneider fiefdom, it was 1st place Patrick, 2nd place April, 3rd place Sanson.

And the one who came next was 4th place, Oliver. And that Oliver stepped forward for the duel and drew his two swords.

"It is Oliver of the Schneider fiefdom."

"It is Miranda Belson, Knight Commander of the Viscount Balson family."

"Then, I ask for a bout."

"...How absurd."

Is this mere soldier really going to fight me?

Miranda was dumbfounded.

Looking at the man who had taken a stance with two longswords in his hands, he also wondered why he had to deal with such a clown show.

But it couldn't be helped.

A duel is a duel...

"Begin!"

As soon as Count Parmas' signal fell, Miranda stepped forward and thought.

'Let's end this quickly.'

There was no need to worry about offense and defense.

If he just closed the distance and unleashed a single slash, there was no way a mere soldier like that could block his sword….

Crack!

"Keok!"

In an instant, Miranda flew backward with the pain of his face being crushed. And Oliver, who had thrown a punch at his opponent's face, said.

"Huh? How could you get hit by that? You should have dodged it."

"Kuh… kuuuuh…"

"You had to dodge that so I could follow up with a splendid combo of 'papapat' and win coolly. If you get hit by this, the plan changes, doesn't it?"

"You… you son of a bitch."

"That's right. Get up. You can still do it. If you give up, the match is over."

"I'll kill you!"

Miranda let out a monstrous scream, got up, and charged.

His appearance, charging with his face covered in blood, was closer to a maddened berserker than a graceful knight.

Kang! Kangkang!

Unlike his excitement, the sword he wielded was the sword of a proper 3-star knight.

The sword, flying without wavering and with precision, attacked Oliver's top, bottom, left, and right. However….

"Too slow."

The longswords held in Oliver's hands cut off all those attacks.

Oliver, who was taller than others and had long limbs, found it easy to dominate the distance when he used twin swords.

Originally, extending one hand is much longer than extending two, and Oliver's limbs were originally longer than others.

On top of that, with the Five Elements Steps that Patrick had personally taught him, and with agile footwork added….

"Kut… ugh…"

It was Oliver's overwhelmingly dominant pace.

Miranda, who had charged in a frenzy at first, was now starting to retreat, and Oliver, taking small steps, swung his swords relentlessly from various angles.

"My… my word?"

"Is he really a soldier?"

"He didn't even look particularly strong…"

The other eastern nobles who were watching the duel could not close their mouths.

In their eyes, that knight named Miranda was the real deal. In any fiefdom in the east, a knight of that level would be treated well.

And such a knight was being pushed back by a mere soldier.

No, this was more than just being pushed back….

"Lower, middle, lower again. Don't crouch, you have to lift your head. Don't doze off, watch the opponent's sword. The sword…"

At Oliver's appearance, who was moving his mouth as relentlessly as his sword and giving advice, the nobles clicked their tongues.

"He's toying with him."

"Hahaha. A soldier, a knight…"

"Impossible."

That impossible reality was unfolding right before their eyes.

Kigigigigi….

Oliver was in a power struggle, using a longsword held in one hand against Miranda's longsword held with two hands.

The sword held in his other hand was just hanging loosely, while he faced him with one hand in a power struggle.

Logically thinking, Miranda, who was pushing with all his might with two hands, should be winning, but….

"You have to lower your center of gravity and put strength in your lower body. Do you think you can push just by pushing blindly?"

"Shut uuuuuup!"

"Tsk, it's not good for a novice to not listen to a master's advice."

And Oliver lightly leaned his center of gravity forward and stomped his lead foot, which was his axis, on the ground.

Kooong!

Simultaneously with the powerful stomp, a strong impact erupted from zero distance….

"Kuaaaaargh!"

Miranda, unable to withstand it, staggered backward, was pushed back, and fell ungracefully.

And Oliver leisurely pointed his sword and said.

"Now. Get your stance again, and let's do this properly. Yes?"

"You… you bastard…"

Miranda's face turned red with anger, and looking at that expression, Oliver thought to himself.

'Ah. I'm strong. I'm so damn strong.'

He had won quite a few victories while sparring with fellow soldiers in the fiefdom.

But this situation was different from then.

He was overwhelming a knight in an official duel, with all the other eastern nobles watching.

There was a reward for having gone through that devil's hellish… no, hell-like… perhaps in terms of physical pain, it might have been even worse than real hell, that crazy training.

The pain, humiliation, and fear of that time were all being compensated for now, at this moment.

In the form of victory and a sense of superiority.

Oliver smiled at his comrades behind him and thought.

'Are you watching? I'm saving all of your faces. Be grateful.'

"He's really having a blast, isn't he."

"Aah, it's an eyesore."

"The opponent is weaker than I thought, isn't he?"

"Right? Is that guy really 3-star?"

"In my opinion, he's about 2.5-star. That's a 3-star by rounding up."

"I could have taken that guy. Me too."

"Isn't he going to finish it quickly?"

Of course, the soldiers of the Schneider fiefdom were not grateful at all.

Seeing him deliberately drag out a duel he could easily win, just to act cool and look imposing….

"He's dead when he comes back."

A vein popped on Sanson's forehead.

He was pissed off at Oliver, who was just showing off and toying with his opponent in a duel he had finally gotten to participate in.

"We believe in you, Captain."

"That guy, that guy needs to be beaten to an inch of his life."

"Will beating him fix him?"

"He said most of the world's problems can be solved by beating them up."

"Hasn't the Young Master ever beaten him?"

"Aaaah…"

"He's the one who's been beaten the most by the Young Master in the fiefdom. But he couldn't be fixed. What does that mean?"

At those words, the other soldiers nodded in agreement.

"So there are some things that can't be fixed even by beating them up."

"Come to think of it, he did say 'most,' not 'all'."

"If even the Young Master can't fix him by beating him, then no one can. Not even a saintess could do it."

And so, the soldiers were sending their sympathy and condolences not to Oliver's dazzlingly grown skills, but to his hopeless personality.

Whether he knew it or not….

"Hahaha. You have to move more nimbly. Is it right to be tired already?"

Oliver was excitedly swinging his sword as if playing against the 3-star knight Miranda.

'I'll… kill him.'

Miranda felt like he would lose his reason to the anger that had surged to the top of his head.

He no longer needed a knight's honor, pride, or anything.

No, in the first place, such things had long been torn to shreds and thrown into the gutter.

What pride was left for him, who had been treated like a toy and made fun of by a mere soldier? If there was anything left, it was just….

Grind.

'I will kill him!'

There was only one purpose.

Miranda kicked up the dirt at his feet, sending it flying towards Oliver's face.

It was a petty and cowardly act.

It was a method that, even if used in a real battle and not a duel, could cause a knight to lose his honor.

At this, Oliver was startled and took a step back.

He was not so much threatened by the trick of kicking dirt itself, but surprised that a knight, of all people, had used such a method.

And the moment Oliver stepped back and a distance was created….

Wooooong!

Aura bloomed on Miranda's longsword.

Having bought a moment of time to manifest his aura, Miranda swung his sword as it was.

"Die!"

At that moment, many of the eastern nobles were flustered and shot up from their seats.

Danger? Cowardice?

They didn't know which word to utter first.

But before they could even open their mouths, Miranda's sword, heavily imbued with aura, fell towards the crown of Oliver's head. And just before that sword reached the crown of Oliver's head….

Kwaaaaaang!

With a brilliant explosion, a shockwave accompanied by aura scattered in all directions.

Miranda's sword, which had been falling to split Oliver's crown, was blocked by Oliver's longsword. And on Oliver's sword, an aura much clearer and denser than Miranda's had formed.

"Heheheh…"

"It was true."

"He really had knight-level skills."

There was no room for doubt now.

While the eastern nobles were admiring, Miranda looked at Oliver with an expression of disbelief. And Oliver….

"So there's no knight's honor or anything, is that it?"

"You bastard…"

"Go die, you X-bastard!"

Kwajik!

Oliver swung the pommel of his sword up into Miranda's jaw.

With the sound of a jaw breaking, his body floated up slightly. And then….

"Haaaaaap!"

Oliver's twin swords drew a dozen arcs of light in the air.

The attack, which flew at the helpless opponent floating in the air, mercilessly left deep wounds all over his body.

Arms, thighs, shoulders, torso, etc.

Miranda, his entire body covered in wounds that were not fatal, collapsed to the ground.

And he could not get up.

Leaving the fallen Miranda, Oliver raised his sword high. Then he looked up at the sky and shouted loudly.

"Uwoooooooooo!"

The eastern nobles who heard that brave roar were filled with admiration on one hand, and trembled on the other. And the soldiers of Baron Schneider….

"What's with him?"

"He said it was cool last time, so he went and learned it from the Orcs."

"Let's just tell him to go live there."

"Wouldn't that be a cruel thing to do to the Orcs?"

"Haaaaah…. If only they weren't our allies…"

Sometimes, there are people who get scolded even when they win.

"This… this is impossible."

Viscount Balson wanted to deny reality.

His knight had lost.

Lost to a soldier.

No, even the word 'lost' was not enough.

It was a devastating defeat that could be expressed as 'utterly crushed'.

The overwhelming difference in skill was revealed, and on top of that, he had even resorted to a cowardly trick at the end, only to be turned against him.

The plan to prove Baron Schneider's false claims and, further, to diminish the authority of Count Parmas, was shattered to pieces.

The current situation was, on the contrary…

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