CHAPTER 17

Breaking Expectations (2)

The duel had begun.

The Emperor's solemn voice rang out, and the gazes of dozens, hundreds of nobles, and thousands of citizens all converged on a single point.

There stood the Crown Prince and the Second Prince.

Who would strike first?

It was obvious—it would be the Second Prince.

At least, that was what everyone thought.

But then—

A sudden metallic clang echoed across the vast bridge.

Clang!

A training sword fell to the ground. It was the very sword that Crown Prince Rakiel had been holding.

Had he dropped it while trying to block the Second Prince's attack? No. The sword had been released of his own volition.

No, he had discarded it.

"Surely… you're not forfeiting the duel?"

The Second Prince, Theodor, twitched his eyebrow. He felt both relief and disappointment at the same time.

'So, in the end, my brother chose not to push himself too hard.'

His half-brother, the Crown Prince, was, after all, an invalid. Theodor had felt uneasy about having to cross swords with him in the first place.

So he was relieved.

But at the same time, he was disappointed.

'To come this far, only to show such a sight in front of so many people…'

His brother must have been afraid of the situation. The pressure must have been immense.

He understood.

But still, this was not good. A member of the Imperial family turning his back on a duel—such an act would tarnish the honor of the royal bloodline.

'Then what should I do?'

Should he try to discreetly persuade his brother? Convince him to pick up his sword and at least go through the motions of a proper fight to protect the dignity of the royal family?

That seemed like the best course of action.

Having made up his mind, Theodor looked at his brother, ready to speak softly and reason with him.

But in that moment, he witnessed something unexpected.

Swish.

The brother who had dropped his sword—Rakiel—moved his right hand. He grasped the upper handle inside his shield. His left arm slid into the inner brace, securing the shield's center. His right foot shifted backward, planting itself firmly on the ground.

It was a solid battle stance.

Moreover, it was a proficient defensive stance.

The moment he saw it, Theodor realized—his brother had not given up the duel at all. The act of discarding the sword had been a tactical choice.

'He's abandoning ineffective attacks and focusing everything on defense instead?'

In hindsight, it was a wise decision.

His brother had never trained in swordsmanship.

If he tried to fight with clumsy swordplay, there was no way he could win. Instead, he had chosen to rely entirely on his large shield to withstand attacks.

'This duel isn't about winning or losing—it's about whether my brother can endure for five minutes without collapsing. That's the condition of our match.'

Choosing defense over reckless offense—Theodor silently praised his half-brother's decision.

'A smart choice. But… I will end this match as quickly as possible to make it easier for you.'

Shing!

Theodor unsheathed his training sword.

At the same time, his presence shifted.

Kiieeeeng—!

The Second Prince's heart roared.

A circle of power surged around it.

The imperial family's secret technique, the Asrahan Heart Method, awakened like a feral beast, igniting his entire circulatory system, urging him to break through all defenses—urging him to devour.

In that instant, Theodor kicked off the ground.

Thud!

His charge and strike came as one.

His body was the sword, and the sword guided his body.

A smooth yet devastating downward slash, carrying the full weight of his body.

'This will end it.'

Theodor was certain.

This was the end.

His brother wouldn't be able to block it.

No matter how large or sturdy his shield was, stopping this attack was impossible.

He was utterly convinced.

'This is not a strike that can be blocked head-on.'

It was simply a fact.

His physique vastly outmatched his brother's. While Rakiel was frail and sickly, Theodor was strong and robust. He had poured his overwhelming weight, strength, and speed into this attack.

Not to mention his mana.

If Rakiel tried to block it head-on, he would break.

The shield might stop the sword, but his body wouldn't withstand the impact. His arm would fracture. His knees would buckle.

If he didn't get sent flying, it would be a miracle.

Theodor made a wish.

'Please, don't fall backward. Just… drop to your knees with dignity.'

He didn't want his brother—his royal kin—to suffer the humiliation of rolling on the ground before a crowd.

So he had chosen a downward strike, one that would force his brother to kneel but not send him sprawling. It was a form of consideration.

Yet, his kindness betrayed him.

Swish.

Just before his sword made contact with the shield—

The shield tilted.

'…What?'

Theodor's eyes wavered.

But there was no time to adjust his attack.

His sword struck the shield—only to slide off.

Clang!

"….!"

The full force of his weight, strength, speed, and mana—none of it landed properly. His sword had merely scraped the shield's slanted surface and was deflected.

'…He deflected my downward strike?'

Theodor was stunned.

'How?'

A deflection like that wasn't easy.

It required perfect timing and angle control. The wielder had to absorb and redirect the impact through their elbow, shoulder, and scapular joints—a technique of at least intermediate difficulty.

And yet, his half-brother, Rakiel, had executed it.

Through the shield, Theodor saw his brother's gaze.

Eyes burning with life.

Eyes that told him—this wasn't an accident.

It was intentional.

Theodor swallowed his disbelief.

'But this doesn't change the outcome.'

Crack!

He gripped his sword tighter.

His redirected strike adjusted its course, preparing to swing again.

Meanwhile, Rakiel clenched his teeth.

'Damn… This is harder than I thought.'

He tightened his grip on the shield handle.

But his hands were numb.

Not just his hands—his wrist, forearm, left shoulder, even his waist and thighs throbbed.

All from deflecting a single blow.

'He's even faster and stronger than I expected…'

Or was it simply that his own body was too weak?

'Still, I can do this. I can hold out.'

Clench.

He bit down hard.

Memories from over a decade ago surfaced.

Once, he had been a medical student. Unlike his peers, he hadn't needed to serve as a public health officer after graduation.

Because he had already completed his military service.

'I didn't want to, but… I had no choice.'

Family circumstances had forced him into it.

Back then, as a military police officer, he had wielded a riot shield.

He had trained with it until it felt like an extension of his body.

He had used it against wooden bats, metal pipes, bricks, even rubber ducks and fish sauce bottles during protests.

'If I could handle all that—'

He took a step back, driving his shield into the ground.

Lowering his center of gravity.

Bracing himself.

Thud!

Theodor's second strike came.

Rakiel angled the shield—

And deflected it again.

Theodor's eyes widened in shock.

Rakiel gritted his teeth.

'This is my last chance.'

The third attack was coming.

He had no strength left.

It was all or nothing.

Boom!

He activated his special ability—

A stored substance released into the air.

A concoction so potent that even the strongest drinkers would collapse from a single sip.

Theodor's Asrahan Heart Method absorbed it—

And instantly, his body betrayed him.

"….Hic?!"

His organs revolted.

His face turned pale.

His body trembled—drunk off its own power.