## Chapter Fifty-Two: The Duel
The air was stifled for a moment.
Then, an even louder commotion erupted.
“Look, look, who’s here!”
“The beautiful Princess Peilo!”
“Oh my, she’s dazzling!”
“Princess Peilo—”
“Woof!”
With howls and hoots mixed in with enthusiastic cries, it felt like the palace would be blown down. The girl in the poofy dress held onto her brother’s hand, slowly making her way into the hall under her mother’s lead. Apart from the two kings at the main table, everyone—whether from the Northern Army or the Royal City Army—stood up, and applause rang out.
“Congratulations to the princess! Happy eighteenth birthday!”
“What eighteen? She’s clearly sixteen!”
“Isn’t she fourteen?”
“After all these years, the princess hasn’t changed one bit!”
“She’s like a perpetual beauty!”
“Ha ha ha—”
Someone in the crowd cracked a joke, and suddenly, everyone chimed in.
They looked at the gracefully approaching girl, laughter in their eyes. No one took those words to heart—except for Catherine and Skarlij, who paused slightly at the remarks.
But they hid it well; in such a setting, no one would truly notice those subtle changes.
Except for Queen Elizabeth.
Amidst the warm welcome, the girl moved with difficulty, responding with a stiff smile to the cheers all around her. Next to her, Lafael couldn’t help but marvel that in a banquet of the Valen Empire, not even her father’s entrance had stirred such a strong emotional reaction from the crowd.
Those present—whether fighting for the North or the Royal City—were all exceptional warriors and leaders forged in battle. Most wouldn’t easily acknowledge anyone based merely on their “might.”
But at this moment, Lafael clearly felt that when these people looked at his sister, despite some still joking, the respect, admiration, and even adoration in their eyes could not be hidden.
Seeing this, Lafael felt even more moved.
How many times had it been since that little girl, swinging her pigtails behind him…
That girl who loved to tease him, a bit cute and a bit childish…
But now she stood in prominence between two nations.
Lafael had heard his mother say that without his sister, the North would have lost.
And he had long known the things his sister had done while in the Royal City.
Sister…
She’s really grown up.
…
In that short stretch of a few hundred meters, amid the cheers and applause, they finally made it to their destination.
Lafael, maintaining his composure, helped the girl sit down at the main table. He didn’t sit next to their mother as usual; tonight’s banquet was focused on his sister, and she deserved that spot, so he sat beside her instead.
After the girl arrived, the atmosphere in the hall hit a peak. Many who had drunk too much rushed to toast her, especially the rascals from Shanter Castle, like Hoover, who were the loudest.
However, they were mostly stopped by Catherine, except for a few Royal City leaders led by Little Reikmon, who found it hard to refuse; even Queen Elizabeth couldn’t intervene. Although Little Reikmon wasn’t very familiar with the girl—unlike Rect or Sharman, who always stayed near her Majesty—he had privately mentioned wanting to meet the girl who had saved her life and the Royal City from peril.
Later, he had mourned for her “d*ath” for quite some time.
“I knew those old geezers in the Church were lying.”
Under the queen’s watchful eye, they only shared one toast with the girl. The men were clearly tipsy, barely standing, and speaking without a care, sounding a bit tongue-tied: “Silvya… No, Princess Peilo, I’m a few years older than you, so calling you ‘sister’… is that okay? I’ve wanted to say that for ages, you little rascal… Next time you’re in the Royal City, if anything happens, come find the Reikmon family; if Her Majesty is busy, you can come to your big brother…”
Before he could finish, another relatively sober leader awkwardly pulled him away.
After those drinks, the girl’s face was flushed, and her eyes showed a hint of intoxication. Not long after Little Reikmon and the others stepped back, Pagos strolled over with a loud belch, holding half a bucket of liquor, and plopped it on the table with a bang: “Pepé, still remember your Uncle Pagos?”
The girl instinctively shuddered at the sight of the muscular man: “Uncle Pagos…”
“Burp! If you remember, let’s down this bucket together!”
“Uh…”
“Pagos! What nonsense are you up to—”
“Pagos, do you have a grudge against my daughter or what…”
Catherine and Skarlij finally reacted and quickly tried to dissuade him, shoving him to take the liquor back. Skarlij seized the moment to kick the big guy, but the force barely budged the mountain of a man. Seeing the girl didn’t want to drink with him, Pagos turned and shouted across the hall: “Everyone, everyone, quiet down! I’m saying, according to our Northern celebratory tradition, isn’t there a thrilling segment missing tonight?”
Everyone paused at his words.
Then Hoover was the first to react, shooting up from the table: “Duel!”
“Right, duel!”
Someone quickly echoed, “This palace hall is so big, we’re all having a blast tonight, how can we skip the duel!”
“Duel—”
Some were drunkenly thumping their chests, leading the crowd to shout. Soon, all the Northern warriors were excited, and the rhythmic thumping resounded in unison, echoing throughout half the palace: “Duel! Duel! Duel!”
The sight left the Royal City troops staring in disbelief. Not knowing what was happening, many of them joined in the excitement, while Catherine shot a furious look from the main table: “Duel? Tonight is Pepé’s birthday banquet, not a festive feast! Pagos, what nonsense are you stirring up! How could a young girl compete like this? Dressed like that, she’s not a warrior!”
“She is a warrior!”
Pagos retorted loudly: “She’s the strongest warrior in our Northern Army!”
“Roar!”
“Roar!”
“Roar—”
Pagos’s statement resonated around the hall, and the men began to hit their chests even harder. Some started clearing the area for the upcoming duel, quickly creating an open space. The burly Pagos then lifted the liquor barrel and took a few big gulps, letting the strong drink spill over and soak his clothes.
Once he was satisfied, he put the barrel back on the table, ripped off his thin top cloth, revealing muscles as solid as iron. In the midst of everyone’s excitement, he stepped into the cleared area and shouted at the main table: “It’s me, Pagos! I’ll start this duel! By the old rules, no fancy weapons allowed, and no Power of Order. Pepé! If you’re a man, come down and fight me!”
But I’m not a man…
The girl thought helplessly, glancing at her increasingly angry mother, then at her father, who was quietly observing, and finally at Viki, who had a stoic expression. She sighed, shrugged at her equally helpless brother, pushed her chair back, bent down to remove her cumbersome high heels, and stood up gracefully.
Whoosh—
The crowd erupted.
“Pepé, what are you doing? Sit down!”
Catherine tried to stop her but heard the girl laughing: “It’s okay, don’t worry, Mom, I just want to join in the fun.”
Skarlij chimed in, “Pagos is right; Pepé is the strongest warrior in the Northern Army. Even if you dress her in the fanciest of gowns, it doesn’t change what everyone expects from her now.”
As she spoke, the girl tugged at the neckline of her dress, and with a few sharp sounds, tore off the silk ribbons clinging to her arms, allowing the dress to slip from her shoulders down to her feet. She stepped out of the gown and finally shed the cumbersome shackles, now clad in a fitted white bodysuit and knee-length pants.
She waved at her father and her stern-faced mother and, with bare feet, walked into the cheering crowd.
“Haha!”
In the center of the cleared space, the muscular Pagos cracked his neck, grinning wickedly as he watched the girl walk through the crowd: “This is how a Northern princess should be!”
“I’m drunk, Uncle Pagos.”
The girl tilted her head back to meet his gaze: “So if I hit you too hard later, you can’t blame me!”
“Ha ha ha!”
Pagos roared with laughter: “Come on, girl! Without the Power of Order, how are you going to compete with me? When it comes to physical prowess, no one in the entire empire can match your Uncle Pagos! How about I let you have one arm tied behind my back? The outcome is a sure thing anyway.”
In a sense, Pagos was right.
This was indeed a duel without any suspense.
When the two-meter tall muscle giant launched the first strike, the moment his fearsome punch was thrown, the girl had already stepped into the Moon Step and swiftly circled behind him. With a simple leap, she delivered a stunning blow that echoed like thunder, and bam! The giant’s face turned instantly green.
Pagos stumbled backward, fell to the ground, curled into a ball, dazed and unable to recover from the impact for a while.
The sight of a petite girl knocking down a bull of a man was quite an eye-opener, and after a brief moment of silence, the entire hall erupted in deafening cheers.
Seeing Princess Pepé’s overwhelming strength, the intoxicated warriors stirred up their competitive spirits. The next to jump out was Hoover, believing himself experienced in combat and thinking he had the upper hand in technique against the young girl, so after mocking Pagos, he threw down the challenge as well.
Like Pagos, he was swiftly defeated by a single punch.
Next came the third, fourth, and more and more Northern warriors, each fueled by their liquor, stepping up to challenge the girl. Each time, she accepted without hesitation and knocked them out one by one.
Soon, the warriors’ mindset shifted from wanting to win against her to simply betting on who could endure her punch without falling. But after thirty-two challengers, none had managed to truly withstand a hit.
The excitement only grew; even Firebird Annie felt a tickle of anticipation. If not for the appropriateness issue, the Royal City army would have already sent someone up to compete.
By the end, the girl had single-handedly taken down the entire room without breaking a sweat. This left the warriors thoroughly convinced. When it came to the final challenge, they all rushed in, lifting her high into the air and tossing her joyously.
It was unknown who started it first, but they all shouted together: “For the nation!”
“For the nation!”
“For the nation—”
Their cheers were unprecedented, echoing so loudly that even the busy servants outside the palace paused to listen.
