Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Shortly after, the first lights of dawn began to peek over the eastern horizon.

On the training grounds of the Saxon estate, the knights worked hard to hone their skills.

Clang!

The crimson glow of the rising sun scattered as it clashed against the cold steel of their swords.

The tips of a dagger and a sword clashed in a fierce dance, only to separate as quickly as they had met.

Determined to close the distance, the young prodigy of the ducal house, Dale, lunged forward. Charlotte, the daughter of the legendary swordsman, seized the opportunity to counter his advance.

Clang!

Their swords clashed again, and shadows of lethal intentions swirled around them.

Clang!

Another rapid exchange took place.

Before they knew it, the tip of Charlotte’s sword rested on the back of Dale’s neck.

However, Dale’s dagger was equally prepared, with its tip resting on Charlotte’s chest.

Draw.

“You have improved quite a bit,” Dale commented with a smile when the duel ended.

“Hah, you say that as if it were someone else’s business,” Charlotte replied, feigning anger.

“You are the one who has already reached the third circle and surpassed level 20 in the Tower’s trials,” he continued.

“You can’t imagine how everyone talks about ‘young master Dale’ all day long!”

Not to mention leading the knights to hunt monsters within the territory. Even if their duel ended in a draw, Dale was no ordinary swordsman. He hadn’t even used his prized “Cloak of Shadows,” perfect for duels between knights.

It was too dangerous.

Dale’s sword technique was designed to kill. If he used the Cloak of Shadows at full power, even in a mock combat, it would be difficult to guarantee his opponent’s safety.

In this duel, Dale had shown perhaps only a third of his true power.

Charlotte was well aware of this.

The difference in talent was insurmountable.

However, considering she was only ten years old, Charlotte’s achievements were extraordinary.

The daughter of the divine sword, a true genius in both talent and growth in swordsmanship.

She easily surpassed knights who had dedicated decades to their craft before even reaching adulthood.

And yet, even a genius like her felt dwarfed by the boy in front of her.

Dale of Saxon, the empire’s greatest prodigy.

“Don’t worry too much,” Dale said, breaking the silence. “You will also grow stronger, Charlotte.”

He twirled the hilt of his stiletto before sheathing it.

“Strong enough to protect me.”

“What! Stop treating me like a little girl!” Charlotte puffed her cheeks in feigned indignation.

“But you are a little girl.”

“So are you!”

“Me?” Dale tilted his head with a mischievous smile.

Then, with a triumphant air, he declared: “I am already a full-grown adult.”

It was the most childish thing he could have said.

“When the cavalry is deployed on the flanks or on a wing of a unit to act as a ‘hammer’ in battle…”

On a large wooden table, the chess pieces were arranged in formation.

Sir Helmut moved the cavalry pieces forward from the flanks.

“The ideal is to break the enemy wings and surround them through a flanking maneuver.”

The cavalry, concentrated on the flanks, would break the enemy wings and form an encirclement.

In simpler terms, a pincer movement.

“In other words, the key is for the highly mobile cavalry to break the enemy wings and successfully execute a flanking maneuver…”

“While the infantry holds the line to prevent the enemy cavalry from breaking it,” Dale intervened.

“Exactly, young master Dale,” Sir Helmut replied, clearly pleased.

This strategy required a clear superiority in cavalry, something the Saxon duchy took pride in with its “Black Cavalry.”

“Using this tactic, the ancient general Barca completely annihilated a Roman Empire force that was nearly twice his size.”

The art of war does not change much from one world to another.

The hammer and anvil tactics, and Lanchester’s laws.

Sir Helmut continued moving the chess pieces, explaining various scenarios.

The decisions varied depending on the terrain, the numerical differences, the soldiers’ capabilities, and the composition of the forces.

The right decision always depended on the situation.

“By the way,” Dale said, as Sir Helmut’s lesson came to an end. “How is Charlotte’s training going?”

He remembered his duel with her earlier that afternoon.

“Although she cannot be compared to you, her progress is truly remarkable,” Sir Helmut replied, unable to hide his pride as a mentor. “Her sword form is already consolidated and, although it is early, she will soon be formally taught the aura techniques and swordsmanship of the Saxon family.”

Dale nodded, as if he had expected it.

“Once she properly masters aura through the techniques, she will become much stronger.”

Not just much stronger, but dozens of times stronger.

Charlotte’s growth exceeded her own imagination, simply eclipsed by Dale’s shadow.

“However, there is one concern,” Sir Helmut added, with an unusual hesitation for him.

“Are you referring to the compatibility between Charlotte and our swordsmanship style?” Dale asked knowingly.

Sir Helmut swallowed hard, surprised by Dale’s perceptiveness.

It was entirely accurate.

Dale had considered this, which is why he had evaluated Charlotte’s skills and discussed it with Sir Helmut.

Just as mages refine mana into magic through circles, knights refine mana into “aura” through techniques.

And just as mages create schools of thought through “magic towers,” knights pass down their sword styles through “knightly orders.”

Knights in the service of minor nobles often lack proper techniques, and even minor nobles only elevate their knights’ skills by submitting to the great noble houses.

Among these great nobles, the Saxon duchy, led by the masters of the Seven Swords, maintains its traditions through its knightly order.

Even if the great nobles themselves follow a path unrelated to the sword.

The Order of the Night Raven of the Northern Saxon House, the Order of Saint Mary Magdalene of the House of Brandenburg, the Imperial Order of the Iron Cross…

As Sir Helmut’s nickname, the Mad Sword, suggests, the doctrine of the northern knights is based on brute force.

The “Black Cavalry” charges like a tank, shattering battlefields.

In terms of prestige, it is one of the top five orders on the continent.

The problem is that Charlotte’s sword style emphasizes speed and fluidity.

Techniques and sword style are inseparable, and adopting the techniques of the Saxon family means inheriting the tradition of the northern knights.

Although that doesn’t mean she has to wield a massive sword instead of a rapier, the subtle differences will become an increasingly greater obstacle for her as she grows stronger.

“Considering Charlotte’s talent, she could reach the lower ranks of the Seven Swordsmen.”

But that is the highest she will go. She will never reach the peak of the “First Sword.”

The peak of the Seven Swords, which her father once held.

Dale’s expectations for Charlotte surpassed her current understanding.

“The Flower Sword…”

Lost in thought, Dale muttered the name, which made Sir Helmut’s expression harden.

The most powerful sword on the continent, once wielded by Charlotte’s father, the Divine Sword Vardel. Named for the aura that bloomed like purple flowers.

“It is now lost with the fall of the knightly nation,” Sir Helmut lamented.

Dale nodded in silence and then looked at the chess piece on the table.

He remembered the man he had defeated with his own hands, Charlotte’s father.

The knight on horseback.

Knight.

Did the Divine Sword Vardel truly not foresee the fall of his nation and the disappearance of his sword?

“Has his swordsmanship really vanished from this world?”

As a swordsman, could the most noble knight in this world simply accept the total disappearance of his sword?

The moment to demonstrate what he had learned arrived sooner than expected.

Learning to wield a sword, learning magic, learning more magic, studying military strategy.

His schedule was so packed that not even ten bodies would be enough.

In the midst of all this, while constantly increasing his reputation by leading monster hunts within the duchy, an incident occurred.

A minor lord of the Saxon house requested help from the duke.

“──The neighboring Baron Perker has claimed ownership of his copper mine and declared a territorial dispute?”

The Duke of Saxon asked in disbelief at the absurdity of the situation.

“Yes, that is correct.”

In this world, the concept of “borders” between nations or territories is not as clear as one might think. This ambiguity often becomes a weapon for those who wish to make unreasonable claims.

However, trying to intimidate a lower-ranking noble who is a vassal to a great noble is a completely different matter.

Such an act is akin to directly challenging the great noble in person.

And in this case, the opponent is none other than the Duke of Saxony, the most important grand duke of the North.

“Even if Baron Purker obtained his title by pure luck as a former renegade knight…”

He is no fool incapable of handling these types of matters.

“Yes, and if I refuse to hand over the mine peacefully and decide to engage in a territorial dispute…”

As expected. After a brief silence, the young lord continued with hesitation.

“The Grand Duke of Brandenburg has sided with Baron Purker…”

He showed a parchment with the handwritten signature of the Holy Knight.

“A letter has arrived stating that the Order of Saint Mary Magdalene will be dispatched in exchange for a share of the copper mine.”

The Order of Saint Mary Magdalene. Recognized as the strongest knights, they are the pride of the war heroes and holy knights of the empire.

That name again. For a moment, the air around them froze.

“Of course.”

Dale smiled, as if he had foreseen it.

“So this is how they plan to play.”

The Holy Knight would also never forget the humiliation he suffered at the hands of the Black Duke that day.

However, they could not wage a territorial war against the Duke of Saxony. Therefore, they resorted to such underhanded tactics to exact their revenge.

Furthermore, the site of the impending battle is located on the border where the northern and central regions of the empire meet. It is the northernmost extremity, where the Duke of Saxony’s influence is not absolute.

And above all, a territorial war is not an all-out war aimed at the complete annihilation of the enemy force.

Under the restriction of not being able to recklessly exercise the power of the Black Tower, they must be certain of victory in a fair fight with swords and spears.

“Father.”

After assessing the situation, Dale spoke up.

“Allow me to lead this battle alongside the knights of the Saxon house.”

“…Dale.”

“As Sir Helmut has said, it seems the time has come to wage a territorial war.”

Needless to say, a crisis is also an opportunity.

It was the perfect opportunity to make his adversaries feel an even greater humiliation than the one his father had suffered that day.

It was a fight they could face, and a fight they could win.