Chapter 112
Chapter 112
Three days passed.
Before I knew it, the friendly matches had reached their final stage.
A total of six finalists.
From the Winterbell Ducal Family, three had advanced, including myself.
The eldest son, Ryan Winterbell, the second son, Lux Winterbell, and the youngest, me—Ran Winterbell.
Two from the Helios Family.
One from the Imperial Family.
The bleak North had heated up with fervor. Not only had every match so far been a masterpiece, but most of them were intense enough to stir everyone’s hearts.
“Did you rest well?”
“Yeah. Thanks to you, I rested well.”
During that time, aside from minimal training, I focused on taking care of my body. I gathered the expensive herbs Cecil had purchased with a large sum of money and took half-body baths, and I consumed rare elixirs to strengthen my physique.
“Your opponent this time is……”
Cecil’s expression was not good.
She was the only one who knew that I had been Van Descartes. Even so, the fact that she was worried proved that my opponent this time was no ordinary person.
“Why are you making that face? Don’t tell me you think I’ll lose.”
“……No.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no.”
“To be honest, I can’t help but worry. You can’t use mana, and you have to fight using only pure swordsmanship and physical ability—and of all people, your opponent is Ryan Winterbell.”
That was right.
My opponent this time was the eldest son of the Winterbell Ducal Family, and among the candidates for the next Patriarch, the most likely successor—Ryan Winterbell.
To be honest, even when I was Van Descartes, I couldn’t guarantee victory against him.
Hmm.
If I roughly imagined it in my head……
Wouldn’t I have somehow managed to win?
I would have struggled for sure, but my combat experience would have been overwhelmingly superior, so I probably wouldn’t have lost.
Probably.
Honestly, I didn’t know.
I felt like I wouldn’t lose, but I couldn’t fully picture it.
Was it because he was a Winterbell?
It might be because I knew just how far beyond common sense the power carried in Winterbell blood was.
But more than that……
Ryan Winterbell.
The secret that this man held.
That was what bothered me.
I didn’t know what it was, but he was hiding something.
He hadn’t yet revealed his fangs. That was why I couldn’t easily picture the outcome.
He was my eldest brother……
Yet the one most similar to me.
Just who are you?
“You seem to have a lot on your mind as well, Young Master.”
“Hmm. It’s not like I don’t. After all, within the family, he’s someone who competes for first or second place among the heirs. You know it too, Cecil. How monstrous those born with Winterbell blood can be.”
“That’s true. But Ryan Winterbell—so, the eldest Young Master……”
“The eldest Young Master?”
“He’s… different.”
Could it be that Cecil was thinking something similar to me? I wondered if she felt the same way I did. Having lived as an assassin for a long time, her senses would be far sharper.
“What’s different?”
“……It’s hard to describe, but an unpleasant feeling? Something unsettling.”
So she felt something similar to me after all.
“On the surface, he seems ordinary, and in a way, he even seems too kind to suit the Winterbell Ducal Family—but to me, that feels like a mask.”
“……People really do think alike.”
“Did you feel that way too, Young Master?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded. Cecil looked at me. As our eyes met, we both smiled at the same time.
“Hahahaha!”
“Hahahahaha!”
Cecil suddenly stopped laughing and spoke with a rather serious expression.
“Young Master.”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. The fact that both of us felt it means this isn’t something to brush off lightly.”
“…That’s true.”
“You understand what I mean, right? If something feels off, just forfeit instead.”
“…….”
“Answer.”
“Alright.”
Only then did Cecil smile in satisfaction.
After finishing my preparations, I headed to the training grounds with Cecil.
---
The spectator stands of the training grounds were in an uproar. It was partly because the friendly matches had reached their final stage, but also because the lineup for this match was quite intriguing.
After all, it was a duel between Ryan Winterbell—the eldest son of the Winterbell Ducal Family and the most likely candidate for the next Patriarch—and Ran Winterbell, the half-crippled youngest young master who had recently risen as a dark horse.
Despite having received the worst evaluations, Ran Winterbell had consecutively defeated strong opponents, causing a massive upheaval in the betting scene as well.
Because of that, those who earned fortunes and those who lost everything were clearly divided.
“Who did you bet on this time?”
“If I answer honestly, you won’t curse at me, right?”
“Of course!”
“I bet on Young Master Ran Winterbell.”
“……You lunatic! Are you in your right mind?”
“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t curse?”
“How can I not curse after hearing that! Haven’t I told you countless times to give up on dreams of striking it rich overnight? No matter how impressive the youngest young master’s skills have been, his opponent is Ryan Winterbell! The eldest son of the Winterbell Ducal Family! How on earth is Ran Winterbell supposed to beat someone like him!”
“……Still, you never know, do you? People said the same things about the previous matches. No one believed Ran Winterbell could defeat Lin Winterbell. But what happened in the end?”
“…….”
“In the end, Ran Winterbell won. That man feels different. Among all those with Winterbell blood, no one has ever shown such reversals. Ignoring everyone’s evaluation and walking his own path—that’s Ran Winterbell. I believe in him.”
“What a joke. You don’t believe in him—you just want to make easy money.”
“You’re just a gambler too, so why are you talking so much!?”
“What!? You want to die, bastard!?”
The two gamblers, who had been passionately arguing, soon grabbed each other by the collar and started fighting. The spectators watching the scene burst into laughter and egged them on.
It was because they enjoyed the small entertainment even before the match had begun.
“Fight! Fight more!”
“Whoever wins—I’m on your side!”
“You idiots! Hahahaha!”
“Popcorn for sale! Get your popcorn!”
The heat in the air intensified.
The atmosphere was like a festival.
At that moment.
Two men walked into the training grounds.
Step. Step.
The two stood facing each other in the arena.
“…….”
“…….”
Ran Winterbell.
The youngest son of the Winterbell Ducal Family.
A black martial robe wrapped around his solid body. The wounds he had suffered in the battle against Lin Winterbell had not yet fully healed, leaving red marks across his body. Yet his gaze had grown even sharper.
Through the gaps of the black robe, faint traces of red tattoos could be seen on his skin. The patterns that proved his Halla Clan bloodline pulsed faintly, as if they were alive.
The noisy spectator stands fell silent.
Everyone’s attention had been drawn to Ran Winterbell.
The two men who had been grabbing each other by the collar and throwing punches moments ago forgot everything and, as if by prior agreement, both turned their gaze toward Ran Winterbell.
“…His presence has changed.”
“…Maybe I should’ve bet on Ran Winterbell.”
Ran Winterbell’s posture now carried a dignity unlike before. He was no longer the half-crippled youngest, but a rising powerhouse who had consecutively defeated Ian Helios and Lin Winterbell.
Ryan Winterbell.
The eldest son of the Winterbell Ducal Family and the next Patriarch.
His presence was overwhelming.
His white martial robe fluttered in the wind. His silver-white hair gleamed coldly under the moonlight, and as he stood in perfect form, not a single flaw could be found.
Everything about him, raised from birth as the successor of Winterbell, was flawless. His well-balanced physique, sharp eyes, and every restrained movement proved that he was a supreme swordsman.
The air around him was as cold as midwinter. The overwhelming presence created by the pure blood of Winterbell seemed to freeze the entire training ground.
The gazes of the two met in midair.
Like the contrast in the colors of their robes, the presence of the two brothers clashed.
Pure Winterbell blood, and a mixed blood carrying the blood of Halla.
The perfect successor, and the discarded youngest.
Ryan Winterbell spoke first.
“Ran.”
No emotion could be read from his voice.
It was as cold as ice and as sharp as a blade.
The air in the training ground grew even heavier.
“Yes, Brother.”
“You’ve managed to make it this far.”
It was a statement filled with many meanings. Depending on how it was interpreted, it could sound like praise—or like reproach.
“You speak as if you find it displeasing that I stand here before you.”
“It may sound that way depending on how you hear it. Isn’t the judgment yours to make?”
The two looked at each other.
The gazes of the eldest and the youngest intertwined in midair.
Ryan Winterbell’s cold eyes clashed with Ran Winterbell’s sharp gaze.
The perfect successor and the abandoned youngest.
Pure Winterbell lineage and a mixed blood of Halla.
They had walked completely different paths.
If not for this friendly tournament, they would never have faced each other.
The eldest, chosen as successor from birth, and the youngest, dismissed as half-crippled.
The gap carved by fate between them was immense.
But at this very moment, they stood on equal ground.
Status and past no longer mattered.
Only the truth to be proven by the sword remained.
The audience held their breath as they watched this moment.
The betting slips rustled in the gamblers’ hands, and tension filled the faces of the nobles.
Even the members of the Winterbell Ducal Family remained silent, unable to take either side at this moment.
Everyone knew.
This was not merely a friendly match.
This duel was a battle of fate upon which the future of the Winterbell Ducal Family rested.
The strongest family of the North, carrying a legacy spanning hundreds of years.
A fight to determine the legitimate heir who would lead their next era.
Though officially a friendly match, everyone present understood the true meaning of this battle.
The sword of the youngest, who had thrown down a challenge to the established authority of the eldest—and the sword of the eldest, who had accepted that challenge.
Everyone realized that today’s outcome would determine the direction of the family.
Arkan Winterbell’s cold voice swept across the entire training ground.
“From this moment, the friendly match between Ryan Winterbell and Ran Winterbell of the Winterbell Ducal Family will begin.”
The moment his words ended, Ryan Winterbell’s figure vanished. The next instant, he appeared behind Ran Winterbell.
“……!”
He had kicked off the ground with such incredible speed that his movement looked like an afterimage.
“Even if you die here today, do not resent me, younger brother.”