Trial by Duel
A lavish full-length mirror adorned with silver and bronze.
Reflected upon it was the figure of a man with his upper body bare.
At a glance, it was an ordinary physique.
A moderately filled-out body with some muscle—neither particularly large nor small. You could grab any young man off the street, strip him, and he'd look much the same.
Yet to Karnak, it was a deeply satisfying result.
"Wow. I've gotten pretty fit, haven't I?"
He grinned broadly as he flexed his arm.
A body that had once hovered somewhere between dried anchovy and jerky now looked fairly human.
"Wouldn't you say I've built up a decent amount of muscle, Baros?"
Looking at the fruits of the grueling training, the loyal attendant spoke sincerely to his delighted master.
"With how much you've been rolling around, any man should gain at least that much muscle. Honestly, even a woman would. And I fed you that much meat, too."
"I changed this much in just a month—can't you give me a little praise?"
"If you changed that much in only a month, it just proves how little you moved your body before. Please, have some self-awareness."
Karnak felt a flicker of confusion.
It was the same insolent attitude as always, but somehow it felt different.
Realizing why, he patted Baros on the shoulder.
"Don't worry so much. It'll work out."
Soon, Karnak would be facing Randolf in a trial by duel. That fact weighed heavily on Baros.
"Ugh, how am I not supposed to worry?"
No matter how thoroughly they prepared, life never went exactly as planned.
"If things don't go according to plan, activate necromancy immediately. Kill everyone watching and escape."
"Ah, that would just be repeating the past."
"Better than dying on the spot, isn't it? Winning a duel after getting your head chopped off doesn't mean anything."
For most people, decapitation was the end—but Karnak was different. Even if killed, he could resurrect himself as an undead through necromancy.
At the cost of losing human senses.
"If I'm going to run, I should run away alive. I threw everything away and came back to try living like a human again."
"Alright, alright."
Calming Baros down, Karnak turned his head.
In one corner of the room stood a suit of armor, a longsword, and a shield—arms Baros had painstakingly prepared for this very day.
As he stepped forward, Karnak muttered solemnly,
"Let's go. To the dueling grounds."
The temporary arena for the trial by duel had been erected on the northern plains where the Temple of Allium stood.
This borderland between Deventor and Zestrad was usually a desolate place, rarely visited by anyone but priests and shepherds.
But today, a massive crowd had gathered.
Arriving at the arena, Baros looked around and exclaimed,
"Whoa… there are way more spectators than I expected."
The people of the Zestrad domain stood lined up on one side, those of the Deventor domain on the other, along with the priests of Allium presiding over the trial.
There had to be over a hundred people.
Clad in armor, Karnak moved forward and whispered quietly,
"Of course there are. The fate of the domain is at stake."
"Now's not the time to talk like it's someone else's problem."
Still unable to hide his worry, Baros asked,
"If things go wrong, can you really escape?"
"With this many people? Easily."
At Karnak's calm reply, Baros finally let out a sigh of relief.
Karnak smiled bitterly to himself.
Well, it's not exactly a lie.
He was confident he could escape.
But he absolutely couldn't kill everyone.
If I run, my true identity will be exposed immediately.
Living the rest of his life hunted as a necromancer—Karnak knew all too well what that meant.
Looks like winning the duel is my only option.
Amid the noisy atmosphere, Karnak walked toward the entrance of the arena.
With each step he took, the people of the domain wiped away tears and offered prayers.
"My lord…"
"May Allium protect our lord…"
"Please avenge the head of our family!"
The reactions were more positive than he'd expected.
Rather than treating him as a dead man walking, they genuinely seemed to believe Karnak might win.
From Karnak's perspective, it was absurd.
Common sense said there was no way a sheltered bookworm, after just three months of secret training, could defeat a seasoned, battle-hardened knight.
Guess I really did talk a good game.
After all, he'd originally planned to fight using necromancy—his confidence must have rubbed off on the people around him.
Not knowing it's actually the road to ruin for my life, sigh.
Soon, a single priest stepped into the center of the arena.
The middle-aged priest raised his hand, silencing the crowd.
"Be silent before the authority of Allium!"
The surroundings fell quiet.
The trial had begun.
"Both sides claim that the other's evidence is false. Thus, under the great protection of Allium, the truth shall now be decided!"
The priest's voice rang out again.
"Lord of Zestrad, duelist Karnak, step forth before the Goddess!"
Karnak entered the arena.
Clad head to toe in gleaming steel armor and holding a shield engraved with his family's crest, he looked quite the part. Cheers erupted from the Zestrad side.
"Wooooah!"
Once more, the priest's voice echoed.
"Knight of Deventor, duelist Randolf, step forth before the Goddess!"
Cheers erupted again—this time from Deventor's side.
"Wooooah!"
Amid the cheers, a giant of a man entered the arena.
It was Randolf, dressed in plain everyday clothes.
Unlike Karnak, he wore neither armor nor shield. All he carried was the massive greatsword he habitually favored, slung across his back.
This had been agreed upon beforehand. Given the disparity in skill between the two sides, this was the minimum required for the duel to be considered fair.
Even so, Randolf still held an overwhelming advantage. That was why a confident smile lingered on his lips.
The two men slowly walked forward until they stood facing each other at the center of the arena.
Holding up a holy relic of Allium, the priest asked,
"Duelists, do you swear, in the name of Allium, to fight honorably and justly?"
Drawing his sword and bringing it before his helm, Karnak replied,
"I swear, upon the honor of Zestrad!"
Randolf did not draw his sword. Instead, he simply declared proudly,
"I swear upon the honor of Deventor!"
Nodding, the priest stepped back.
"Under the Goddess's blessing, the scales of justice shall tip!"
As the middle-aged priest exited the arena, he cried out one final proclamation.
"Let the trial by duel begin!"
Randolf drew the sword from his back.
Shrring!
The chilling sound of steel pierced the ears. It wasn't even particularly loud, yet it somehow made the body shrink back.
Of course, Karnak did not flinch.
Baros had deliberately made him listen to that shrring sound over and over—drawing and sheathing blades repeatedly—just to prepare him for this.
"You whelp of Zestrad."
Letting his sword hang loosely at his side, Randolf grinned savagely.
"I don't know what you've been doing these past three months, but—"
He took a light step forward. At the same time, a slashing strike flew toward Karnak's shoulder.
Karnak quickly raised his shield to block.
Thud!
With a metallic crash, he was forced back several steps—but he didn't fall.
Randolf didn't look surprised that his attack had been blocked. In fact, it was such a light swing that it would have been more surprising if it hadn't been.
"The path of the sword is not so shallow that it can be mastered in mere months."
Sneering, Randolf continued his assault. Karnak met him with equal seriousness.
Karnak blocked Randolf's attack with his shield, then counterattacked. Randolf lightly evaded and followed up with another strike. Karnak blocked again, then countered once more.
Clang! Clang-clang!
The clash of steel rang out repeatedly as the exchange continued.
At a glance, it looked like a proper duel, and cheers burst out from the Zestrad side.
"Ohhh!"
"The young lord is holding his own!"
"He's not 'young lord' anymore! Call him Lord!"
Karnak felt a sense of relief inside.
Good. Just as Baros predicted, the opening is going smoothly.
The attacks weren't fast, nor were they particularly powerful. They were clearly meant to gauge his opponent's level.
Even the attack trajectories were obvious enough that, as long as he moved exactly as he had practiced, he could block them without issue.
So there was only one thing he needed to do.
Let out the loudest battle cry of all, and—
"Taah!"
With his eyes and momentum combined, show a fearless spirit that did not value his own life!
Clang! Ch-clang!
Several more exchanges followed. Randolf muttered, seemingly satisfied,
"Your eyes aren't bad."
To be honest, though, his skill wasn't anything special.
He couldn't be called a proper knight. No—he couldn't even be called a proper soldier.
But at least his attitude going into battle was worthy of acknowledgment.
This is enough. I can put him down in a way befitting a trial by duel.
Randolf's swordsmanship stepped up a notch. A different kind of pressure than before slammed straight toward Karnak.
"Hup!"
If he tried to block that with his shield, it would be cut clean through.
Of course, Karnak didn't panic.
Just as expected!
As if he'd been waiting for it, Karnak threw himself aside and rolled across the ground.
"Huh?"
Randolf was slightly taken aback. He hadn't anticipated his opponent fleeing this shamelessly.
On a real battlefield, he could have simply chased him down and run him through.
But this is a duel, after all. That would be… unsightly.
So he waited for Karnak to get back up. Then he swung his sword again—
Roll, roll!
"Eh?"
He swung again—
Roll-roll-roll!
"You little—!"
It was absurd, and his irritation began to rise.
Did the man really think that if he just kept rolling around like this, an opportunity would eventually appear?
He's really making a mockery of a knight.
Randolf's presence shifted slightly.
"Looks like I'll have to get a bit serious."
He had moved past merely testing the waters and into the stage of applying real pressure.
Any experienced warrior would know that from this point on, a full-fledged offensive was coming.
Of course, Karnak had no experience in duels. He had no way of knowing whether his opponent's momentum had changed or not.
But instead, he had a loyal attendant whose combat experience overflowed.
"Young master!"
Baros shouted. It was the prearranged signal.
Ah, now?
To Karnak, it honestly didn't look like anything had changed—but if Baros said so, then that must be it.
Suddenly, Karnak threw away his shield.
"Huh?"
Randolf was momentarily confused.
Has he lost his mind? Throwing away his shield against me?
In truth, whether Karnak had a shield or not didn't matter. If Randolf truly wished it, he could take Karnak's head at any time.
But that was from Randolf's perspective. It wasn't something Karnak would do lightly.
Discarding his shield, Karnak assumed a formal stance.
"I'll get serious too, Sir Randolf!"
Gripping his longsword firmly with both hands, he leveled it at his opponent. It was a ready stance Baros had drilled into his body over more than half a day.
A murmur rippled through the Deventor knights.
"Huh?"
"That stance is…."
"No way…"
It wasn't the sword art of House Zestrad.
It was something far more famous—a stance that most knights in the northern regions of the Kingdom of Ustil would recognize at once.
Randolf muttered in disbelief,
"Delphiad swordsmanship?"