Chapter 253: The Duel

The king was briefly stunned but still sent him with a servant. Jon gave a polite thanks and walked away.

At that moment, the king realized something: Jon clearly had no interest in his daughter. Which meant the only remaining candidate was Duke William.

The king didn't know that Jon wasn't heading to the restroom. He moved past the crowd and, using Apparition, teleported outside. He was going after the fleeing witch.

The princess might not have seen what spell the witch used to vanish, but Jon easily saw through it. The witch was too wounded to cast anything advanced.

Jon wasn't content with the way things had ended. Or perhaps, he thought the witch had been far too passive. Her beloved was about to marry someone else, and she just walked away?

And there was something else. When Jon glanced at William, he saw something disturbing, an aura of sin no less intense than that of the Snow White. That immediately piqued his interest. William's soul needed to be reaped eventually, but if the man succeeded in marrying the princess, taking him down would become far more complicated.

He had to destroy this wedding, no matter what.

***

"In a rush to return to your forest?"

Under the moonlight, a woman in a black gown paused. She turned, golden mask removed, revealing her sharp, ethereal features.

"Why are you following me?!" the witch asked.

"Just wondering. You're really giving up that easily?" Jon replied.

The witch was silent for a moment, then turned away. "Please take care of Elysia."

She was about to leave.

Jon smirked. "Can't do that. I've already bowed out of this husband-hunting game. So, if the princess is marrying anyone, it'll be that pompous bastard."

"Then she's still better off with him than with me," the witch said quietly.

Jon tilted his head. "You really think he's a better man? Let's say you do. But are you okay with the idea of your beloved princess becoming a widow?"

She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Jon's voice was calm. "Because I'm going to kill him."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I have my reasons. Don't worry about them."

"And you're telling me this why? Aren't you afraid I'll go tell them?"

Jon laughed softly. "Who would you tell? The princess? She'd probably be relieved if William vanished. The king? Sorry, not even a monarch can stop me. You've heard of what I've done, right? I executed a king and queen in front of an entire kingdom."

The witch paused, then said, "What do you plan to do?"

Jon extended a hand. "Come with me. There will be a good show."

***

Back at the ballroom.

Tradition dictated that after a royal chose a suitor, the engagement would be announced later. But the king, perhaps flustered or simply impatient, had decided to move things forward.

He took his daughter's hand and beamed. "Ladies and gentlemen, before we conclude tonight's festivities, I have an important announcement. I've decided to betroth my only daughter to—"

Duke William's lips curled in a subtle smile. Finally. Once he married the princess, the throne would be within reach.

"Wait a minute, I object."

A voice rang out. All eyes turned toward the ballroom doors.

Jon entered, flanked by a figure in a black dress and golden mask.

Seeing this, Elysia's dull eyes flickered to life.

Whispers erupted. Many were displeased. To them, Jon had simply refused to accept defeat. They all believed the noble, handsome Duke William was far more suitable than this unknown outsider.

The king, maintaining decorum, smiled. "Is there something you wish to say, Sir. Ghost Knight?"

Jon waved casually. "Just a suggestion, really."

The king raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

Jon exhaled and then spoke, clearly and firmly. "Traditionally, when a princess seeks a suitor, the candidates must prove themselves through trials. May I ask, Duke William, have you undergone any such trials?"

William turned slowly to face him. "I once slew a dragon alone. That should suffice."

He said it with such self-importance, Jon almost laughed aloud.

"Impressive," Jon nodded. "But slaying a dragon isn't necessarily the same as proving yourself as a worthy husband for a princess."

William sneered. "Then what do you suggest?"

Jon shrugged. "Not for me to say. That's for the king to decide. But I do have a proposal."

The king replied. "Let's hear it."

Jon snapped his fingers. "The duke and I were the final two candidates. I voluntarily stepped aside. But if he wins by default, then he hasn't proven anything. So let him prove it, by fighting me."

The king blinked. "A duel?"

"Exactly," Jon said. "If he holds his own or defeats me, then fine, he's earned it. But if I crush him, well, it'll be his unlucky day."

A dangerous grin tugged at Jon's lips.

"And if that's the case, he has no right marrying the princess."

"You—!" Duke William erupted in fury.

Never in his life had anyone dared talk to him from above, not even the king. And yet here was this upstart, Jon, who had already forfeited his chance to marry the princess, now stepping back in just to sabotage his chances. What the hell was this guy playing at?

The king, however, chuckled and said, "Ahem... I think this idea has merit. What do you think the duel should involve, Sir, Ghost Knight?"

Internally, the king was delighted. He suspected Jon regretted giving up his place in the selection and was now trying to claw his way back. That, in the king's mind, meant another opportunity to pair his daughter with the man he believed truly worthy.

Jon saw through the old king's scheming and couldn't help but feel a little awkward. The king was practically throwing his daughter at him, but to be fair, the man had good taste.

"Since Duke William claims to have slain a dragon single-handedly, then he must be quite the warrior," Jon said with a faint smirk. "So, let's keep it simple, let's duel. If he can defeat me in combat, that should prove he's worthy."

There was an unmistakable sarcastic edge to his voice. In Jon's mind, William would be lucky to survive even a single attack.

"And what format do you propose for this duel?" the king asked.

"Blades are dangerous, especially at a ball. Bloodshed would be end in a mess here. But since we're both familiar with weapons, I propose we use wooden swords."

William scoffed, mistaking the suggestion for cowardice. Clearly, this man was trying to save face while avoiding injury. A real man, he thought, would use real steel.

"Fine! Then wooden swords it is," he snapped.

"Hold on," Jon interjected. "You don't even know what counts as a pass."

William gave him a hard look. Jon raised three fingers.

"Three strikes."

"You mean I have to defeat you in three moves?" William asked, scowling. He had confidence, yes, but not that much.

Jon shook his head. "No, no. I mean if you can survive my first three attacks, you pass. Though personally, I don't think you'll last past the first."

William seethed. This guy was even more arrogant than he was.

Both men were insufferable show-offs. Jon favored subtle flair, concealing his true strength under layers of mystique, while William preferred overt grandeur. Naturally, they loathed each other.

"One strike?! You think you can take me out with a single hit?" William roared. "And with a wooden sword?! If you do that, I'll swallow my own saber on the spot!"

Jon nearly lost it. Was this guy a lunatic? He actually said it, swallow his sword?

"What are you laughing at?!" William snapped.

"Oh, nothing," Jon replied, waving him off. "Just remembered something funny."

He cleared his throat. "Alright, enough talk. Let's get started."

The king raised a hand. "Bring them wooden swords!"

A few out-of-breath guards scrambled forward, each handing a practice sword to the dueling parties.

Spectators formed a wide circle. Jon and William stepped into the center.

William took his stance, classic knight posture, blade held high, eyes locked on his opponent.

Jon, by contrast, lowered his body, placing one foot forward and resting the sword by his hip in a drawing stance William had never seen before.

It threw him. That unfamiliar posture, how should he defend against it?

Then he shook the doubt away. Why defend at all? Why play Jon's game? He'd go on the offensive.

"Begin!"

At the signal, William charged.

Jon smirked. Time to test a move he'd learned but never used.

"Moon Breating, Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon - Incessant!"

His body vanished into a blur. Even William's trained eyes couldn't follow.

So fast! he thought.

In a flash, Jon appeared in front of him. William felt his wooden sword rattled by dozens of impacts in a single moment.

CRACK!

It snapped clean in half.

Stunned, William froze.

Then came the wind blades. His elegant attire shredded into tatters. Dozens of crescent-shaped slashes followed, like glowing moons soaring through the air.

What the…..?!

This is magic, he realized. He's cheating!

He tried to dodge, but several blades still grazed him. Blood trickled from fresh wounds.

The king stared at Jon, his expression a mix of shock and admire, like a bachelor seeing a goddess.

If only I could marry my daughter to this man... he thought dreamily.

Jon dusted off his hands. "It's over. You didn't even last a single move. Three attacks? I clearly overestimated you."

He picked up William's saber. "So, about your promise... do you want to eat it whole, or should I chop it into bite-sized pieces for you?"

William, blood dripping from his lip, pointed at him in outrage. "You cheated! You used magic during the duel!"

Jon sighed. "Come on, man. Losing's one thing, but don't embarrass yourself."

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