I Became the Childhood Friend of the Northern Duchess – Chapter 224

A duel between skilled warriors who could wield Sword Aura and Aura Blade, not just average swordsmen.

In other words, their clashing swords were not merely the collision of personal attachments but rather a clash of magical powers.

Bam!

As soon as their swords met, the shockwaves of magical energy spread out, causing the soldiers to be pushed back.

The bright blue energy surrounding the two commanders made it clear that approaching them recklessly would be ill-advised.

To some eyes, it resembled a small whirlpool.

‘Indeed, this person is strong.’

Having only exchanged a few blows, Edgar realized that the man before him was quite a formidable opponent.

The way he dressed and the oppressive aura emanating from him were markedly different from the other soldiers, leading Edgar to assume he must be a captain of some sort, though he never expected it to be to this extent.

‘Still, he’s no match for Creed.’

Nonetheless, Edgar smiled confidently.

In battle, being careless is a deadly sin, but he certainly had the eye to gauge the difference in skills between himself and his opponent.

Although it would be tough to make a direct comparison with Creed, who had long retired from the active field, the intensity radiating from him was significantly lacking compared to Creed when he was serious.

Sometimes, one could assess an opponent’s caliber just from the atmosphere they exude rather than the sheer volume of magical energy they wield.

This was exactly such a case.

Smack!

Having estimated the situation, Edgar dashed forward without a moment’s hesitation.

Even though he knew it was courteous to ask for the enemy commander’s name, there wasn’t even a moment to spare for such formality.

His mission was solely to ruthlessly take down the enemy in front of him and reach his objective.

“…!”

Carlos, facing Edgar’s new model without any preparatory stance, widened his eyes and barely managed to block the ensuing attack.

‘What was that? I didn’t see the movement before.’

He wasn’t averting his gaze, yet he missed the very start of the movement in an instant.

Not that the movement itself was strange—it was honestly straightforward, coming straight at him.

Swish!

‘Again!’

Carlos again failed to notice Edgar’s sword aimed right at his temple.

At the last moment, he managed to turn his face aside, ending up with only a light graze from the blade, but the dire concern was that such attacks might keep coming.

Fortunately, it seemed that Edgar was lightly draping his sword with magic energy to conserve effort and wasn’t fully utilizing the Aura Blade yet.

Perhaps he intended to finish it with a single strike.

Regardless of the intention, it was a welcome occurrence for Carlos.

Clang! Clang!

While Carlos narrowly blocked Edgar’s relentless attacks like a tidal wave, in stark contrast, he felt himself getting pushed further back.

Of course, basic differences in skills and physical prowess played a role.

However, the most significant factor was that strange movement. More precisely, it was the moment he lost sight of Edgar’s presence.

It felt as though he were fighting a ghost.

The moment he became aware of that bizarre phenomenon, when Edgar’s otherwise clear attacks turned erratic, it became challenging to keep up.

The opponent only had to focus on Carlos’s movements, but Carlos needed to be aware of both the opponent’s movements and the vanishing presence itself.

Even in a battle where the strength gap was already evident, having to factor in such a handicap was maddening.

“Help Carlos! Don’t let him retreat!”

Despite the massive shockwaves of magical energy that pushed back Carlos, the courageous soldiers around him attempted to support him.

But upon hearing their voices, Carlos hurriedly turned his head and tried to stop them.

“Don’t come here! You focus on the fight over there!”

“But, Lord Carlos…!”

“Stop pestering me and don’t make me say it twice… Ugh!”

Just as he was about to respond to a soldier’s shout, he couldn’t deflect the opponent’s sword that dug into his shoulder, and he got cut.

At least he managed to create some space for an instant, or else his left arm might have been severed entirely.

‘But with this amount of bleeding, I can still keep fighting.’

He couldn’t help but feel fortunate that it wasn’t a critical hit.

Better that than having soldiers rush in and disrupt the formation; one could call it a trade-off.

To Carlos, the notion that he allowed himself to be struck due to an interference felt like a pathetic excuse.

Had he been at his peak, such a situation would never have occurred.

Thus, instead of blaming anyone, Carlos kept envisioning how to maintain the formation and continued the fight.

‘For now, I mustn’t let the soldiers come here. If that happens, it’s over.’

From the exchange of blows, he understood.

The man before him seemed wholly absorbed in the battle, yet every so often, he would glance around, wary of unexpected reinforcements.

Even though it was a situation ripe for him to strike harder, he was intentionally refraining from closing the distance, aware of that possibility.

In other words, it meant he was deliberately luring them in.

If even a few soldiers were to rush in, he would leverage that opening, pressuring them with numbers while retreating himself or capturing the incoming soldiers.

‘By the way, I never expected the difference to be this stark.’

Carlos wouldn’t claim he never lagged in training, but he had some level of pride in his abilities. Thus, the shocking reality slapped him hard.

Never did he think he would be pushed back like this by a younger swordsman who was not even using all his strength.

Creak! Creak!

Finally, their swords met, letting out a desperate scream.

It might seem like a balanced confrontation from the outside, but Carlos felt himself being pushed back increasingly.

Watching with indifferent eyes, Edgar caught a glimpse of the ground beneath Carlos’s feet and gripped his sword tighter.

That was impressive insight. At this point, most would swallow their pride and seek help, but Carlos was managing to stay steady.

This clearly indicated he understood a bit of his opponent’s intentions. However, to Edgar, it appeared to be a short-sighted response.

Ultimately, in such conflicts, when the clash is between commanders, the victor generally tips the scales.

Moreover, dragging the fight out wouldn’t help; if reinforcements didn’t arrive soon, Edgar would take down Carlos and join the battle against the soldiers.

Meaning, unless he somehow managed to win, any strategy would be pointless.

Edgar figured that, had he been in the opposite situation, he would have called for reinforcements and focused on taking down the enemy commander.

Screech!

“!?”

Ultimately, in the face of a clear difference in power, one side inevitably tips the scale.

Seeing that he couldn’t afford to prolong the engagement while conserving energy, Edgar infused mana into his sword, forcing Carlos’s blade to give out first.

‘Damn it.’

Carlos hastily stepped back, looking down at his sword, he noticed something lodged into it.

Though he had managed to respond with Sword Aura, it seemed he failed to withstand the density of the mana from the higher-level Aura Blade.

The chance of survival had now vanished.

It was fortunate only because he had the master’s gifted sword; even if he received a perfectly intact sword from a nearby soldier, the end result would be predetermined.

“…You there, what’s your name?”

Feeling the end approaching, Carlos mustered the spirit to ask the name of the dark-haired man before him.

Having fought fervently, he finally recalled he hadn’t even asked for the enemy commander’s name until now.

“……”

Edgar, however, refrained from answering, gathering his stance.

Though he wanted to at least give his name, he was hesitant to reveal his identity without having received any indication yet.

After all, there was no evidence that Albrecht had realized the Robeheim Family was attacking.

Even as an enemy, as a fellow swordsman, he wanted to show some measure of respect to such a skilled man.

Thus, Edgar quietly released the magic that had been draped over him while gripping his sword raised up to his shoulder.

“Ah…”

In tandem, his previously dark hair began to glow red, just as it had when it had first touched the sunlight.

In that moment, Carlos could somewhat guess the identity of the opponent he had been clashing blades with.

A man who had recently gained notable fame since the capital—he clearly remembered that man had also boasted red hair.

“…I see. You must be the one whose name is engraved on that stone.”

“I apologize for not revealing my name till the very end.”

“Warriors typically face unfair situations based on the names bestowed upon them by their masters.”

Comforting Carlos, who offered an apology, Edgar lifted the arm he had been slacking and readied himself for battle again.

After all, they were just clashing swords in adherence to the names they had received.

The decision of whether someone was wrong or right would be settled later on.

He too had a master, but he didn’t necessarily see him as someone who always did the right thing.

In the end, warriors will swing their swords according to their circumstances, and the flag of honor raised by the victor will often be called justice.

That’s why he was not particularly curious about the motives behind such actions or what led to this conflict.

He only felt regret over not being able to hear the man’s name directly.

“Come.”

“……”

With the half-destroyed sword held sharply forward, Carlos’s eyes glimmered as Edgar charged in simultaneously.

Thus, their new models clashed, determining the victor of this battle.

When the sun finally revealed itself brightly, the sounds of soldiers that once filled the forest faded away.