A Duel

Translator: Cinder Translations

...

"Incredible! It exploded!"

After being stunned for a while, Catherine finally exclaimed.

"Fun, right?" Paul said proudly.

But standing next to him, the head of the artillery factory, Marlow, shook his head regretfully.

Marlow looked at Paul and said apologetically, "The shell should have exploded before hitting the ground, but in reality, it exploded after rolling a distance. It seems the fuse's stability needs improvement."

Paul asked, "So, shortening the fuse would solve the problem?"

Marlow nodded, "That would require extensive experimentation."

The artillery shells being researched by the Alden Artillery Factory were quite simple in design. A hollow iron ball filled with gunpowder and shot pellets, with a hollow wooden tube inserted through a small hole in the shell. The tube contained hard gunpowder, which acted as the fuse. The artillery could control when the shell exploded by cutting the fuse to the desired length.

Catherine asked, "What kind of shell is this?"

She had been involved with the Alden Army for quite some time. Without a doubt, it was a powerful force far beyond the capabilities of any current army. Catherine had been studying everything related to it—actually, not just her, but the generals sent by Rodney from the 18th division of the former royal army were also quickly learning at the "Grayman Military Academy."

In Catherine's previous understanding, artillery shells were simply large iron balls or a group of small iron pellets called buckshot, but the recent experiment shattered her preconceived notions.

"It's a demolition shell, or as we call it, a blossom shell. You can see how it explodes, like a blooming flower."

"An apt name," Catherine nodded. "Could you explain the principle to me?"

"Of course." Paul briefly explained the principle to his wife.

Then he continued, "Actually, the reason I had the artillery factory research blossom shells was to deal with the orcs. You know, the soil in the orcs' homeland is soft, especially in the Gobi Desert. Traditional solid shells lose some of their impact power when they hit the soft ground, greatly reducing their lethality."

Paul laughed again, "But with the blossom shell, if the fuse is controlled properly, the shell can explode before it hits the ground, and its fragments will scatter in all directions, causing damage to nearby targets."

"I see!" Catherine felt a surge of excitement as she understood something from Paul's words.

The orcs' homeland? Paul Grayman was indeed not content with merely expelling the orcs from Aldor; his army would eventually march into the plains.

Just as Paul was about to continue watching the artillery test, a young intelligence officer appeared beside him. Paul recognized him as someone sent by the intelligence director, Cecil.

"My lord, we have successfully made contact with Earl Wenley of Five Goats City."

"And then?"

"Earl Wenley is very interested in replacing Giles as the ruler of Five Goats City."

…

Sweat dripped into his armor, making him uncomfortable. Giles rushed toward the lord's mansion with his troops.

He had ridden back to Five Goats City in haste. Although the city was now under the control of his brother-in-law, Earl Wenley, there were still many power holders in the city loyal to him.

Wenley's occupation of the city was primarily due to Giles' disappearance, and since Wenley was a relative of Giles, the moment the people saw their lord return, they quickly gathered a considerable armed force, vowing to help Giles reclaim his power.

The guards, seeing the former lord return with a large group of heavily armed knights, did not dare to stop them and let them pass.

Giles marched boldly into the hall, and to his surprise, he heard his son's pleas mixed with Wenley's distinctive, nasal laughter.

Samal couldn't take it anymore. With a loud thud, he smashed the door open with his shoulder.

"Ah, Giles, my dear brother, you've finally returned. Hehe, how pitiful you look!"

Earl Wenley was leaning on the throne, symbolizing the power of the southern territories. He seemed unsurprised by Giles' arrival.

On his right, a large iron cage stood, and inside was Edmond—Giles' son—curled up in it, draped in a white mink cloak that was covered in straw. Several soldiers stood guard with long swords.

Facing Wenley's taunts, Giles dragged his sword across the floor, creating a trail of sparks. When he saw his son's fearful eyes, a burning feeling exploded in his chest.

"We'll solve this like men," Giles ripped off his bloodstained cloak and shouted, "You win, Five Goats City is yours. I win, you go to hell."

Wenley chuckled, "I agree!"

The two drew their swords, and without further words, they immediately started fighting.

Wenley's moves were sharp, striking like a venomous snake.

Giles barely parried him, and the crowd around them automatically widened the circle, clearing the center of the hall for their duel. The tapestries on the walls fluttered as the wind blew in from the outside.

"Do you remember when you taught me swordsmanship, my dear brother?" Wenley dodged a slash and suddenly lunged with his thin sword toward Giles' left knee, where he had an old injury.

"You said to exploit every weakness of your enemy," Wenley grinned as his sword pierced through Giles' knee guard. "How about it, my good teacher?"

Giles stumbled to one knee, and Edmond screamed from the cage, "Father, be careful!"

The duke rolled with the momentum, narrowly avoiding Wenley's sword as it brushed past his carotid artery.

When Wenley withdrew his sword, Giles' long sword swept through the air with a deadly force. Wenley met it with his sword, and the candles in the hall cast their dancing shadows on the two.

"Even if you defeat me, do you think you can win the hearts of the people?" Wenley, frustrated after a long period without landing a decisive blow, shouted, "Since you escaped from Eagle's Beak Pass, all the lords have been sending me messages, saying Giles is unfit to be their lord!" As soon as the words left his mouth, his thin sword stabbed through Giles' right shoulder armor seam.

The sharp pain made Giles snap back to his senses. He recalled twenty years ago, in this same hall, when he taught a ten-year-old Wenley how to hold a sword. The boy had always placed his thumb on the handguard, an incorrect and fatal habit that had never changed.

Use every weakness of your enemy! When Wenley's thin sword came again, Giles intentionally exposed his left side to create an opening.

The screech of metal against metal made everyone wince. When Giles' sword unexpectedly locked Wenley's handguard, Wenley was horrified to find his thumb trapped. The sound of cracking bone echoed in the hall as his thin sword fell, bouncing on the floor like a decapitated snake.

Giles grabbed Wenley by the hair, forcing his face toward a nearby fire, "We're dueling, why so many words?" The smell of burning flesh filled the air as Wenley let out a blood-curdling scream. He mustered all his strength and broke free from Giles' hold.

But it was too late. When Giles' sword came down again, Wenley raised his left arm to block, but it was severed at the elbow. Blood splattered on the tapestry, creating a strange pattern. Giles stepped on the severed limb and pressed his sword against the traitor's throat, "Someone told me you've had dealings with Grayman's people?"

Wenley suddenly coughed up blood and laughed, his blood-red teeth biting toward the sword blade, "You'll cough up blood and die more painfully than I do."

His words were cut off when Edmond, along with Samal and the others, freed him from the iron cage and stabbed a candlestick into Wenley's neck.

The hall fell into dead silence. Giles discarded his broken sword and embraced the trembling heir.

Then, he kicked Wenley's corpse aside and stepped toward his rightful throne, giving orders, "Clean up the hall."

(End of the Chapter)

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