The Heroines Are After My Fortune

42 – The Grand Clash – 2

“…………….”

“…………….”

Caesar and Raphael faced each other.

No further words were needed between them.

*KA-AANG—!!*

Two swords, overlaid with aura, collided.

The first clash of swordmasters.

The shockwave rippled through the underground, like a sonic boom.

*KA-AANG, KANG, KA-KANG!*

Caesar took the offensive.

He lunged, a lightning-fast thrust, seeking an opening in Raphael’s guard.

But the Marquis deflected each and every one.

“Too excited, are you? Then taste my blade—!”

*Whoosh—!*

Raphael’s greatsword carved a wide arc as it fell.

*Clang—!!*

“………*Ugh!*”

Caesar barely managed to deflect it, a groan escaping his lips.

Their styles were certainly different.

Caesar, with his light and quick blade, and Raphael, wielding a heavy greatsword.

Truthfully, their compatibility was not great.

Raphael had the advantage in both reach and weight, and he also surpassed him in combat sense and aura output. Though both were Swordmasters, anyone could see that the Marquis had the upper hand.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Caesar.”

“……………….”

It was clear that with each parry against Raphael’s heavy blows, he was using far too much aura. In a duel between Swordmasters, how efficiently one used their energy was crucial.

‘At this rate, he won’t last much longer.’

The Marquis was certain of it.

And how much time had passed?

Something was strange.

‘What is this guy? He’s burning through his aura like that, yet there’s not a hint of fatigue…?’

“Flustered, are you? Raphael.”

“…Hmph, this is how it gets interesting.”

When Caesar, like he half-caught on, asked about it, the Marquis brushed it off, like it was nothing. Truth was, he’d been taken aback for a moment, but he wasn’t exactly flustered.

Figured he could never outpace that demon-deal of his, giving him endless aura to fling. But, Caesar, he also had a cheat-code type backup.

Glug, glug!

Aiden, watching their brawl, steadily downed something.

Who’d have ever dreamed it?

That, through this death-defying madness, they’d linked up their mana circuits.

Just Aiden, safe, chugging potions, meant Caesar, linked as he was, could pull on limitless aura. That ring he bought at the auction, it was helping, too, boosting the mana recovery even further.

[…Sipping away real nice there. Is that your ‘eat to cheer’ strategy you were on about?]

‘Looks daft, I know, but it’s working, ain’t it?’

Risking it all to use Rondo No. 7, the big reason was for this fight. It’d lifted Caesar to where he could actually match the marquis’ aura output. The rest, it was on Caesar now.

“Something fishy was afoot. You’ve been up to something rather interesting.”

“………!”

Problem was, the Marquis had figured out the link.

He also, getting mana from some demon contract, felt the familiar flow of energy when it poured over to Caesar.

He spun away from Caesar, lunging at Aiden.

[He’s coming………!]

Aiden, quickly seizing control.

Tossing aside his potion, he drew his sword.

Clang——!

“Hm…!?”

The Marquis was taken aback.

He hadn’t held back in his swing, yet Aiden had deflected it. Just now, when Aiden had launched that surprise attack, he’d conceded the boy possessed *something*, but he hadn’t imagined he could block the Marquis’ aura.

Shart, inhabiting Aiden and having parried the blade, clicked his tongue at the weight that traveled up the sword.

‘Kuh, this b*stard’s disgustingly strong…!’

[Shart, what do you think? If you were alive, could you face him?]

‘…I could probably last a little longer, but winning against a monster that defies all reason? It’s near impossible.’

[Always so full of bravado, yet surprisingly weak-mouthed now, aren’t you…]

‘Kuh, shut your trap…!’

Even now, he was barely managing to parry the aura with his lesser sword energy. It was a struggle even with the body of a Sword Master; in Aiden’s far weaker frame, he’d be lucky to survive four or five exchanges.

But that brief ‘survival’ could create a fleeting opening even in the fights of top-tier combatants.

“To take your eyes off me… do you find me so laughable?”

*Sssssh—!*

“…………!”

Sizur’s strike, a thrust, came with its characteristic blinding speed.

The Marquis threw himself back, attempting to evade, but—

*Thwip…!*

“……Kghk!”

He’d been pierced, a chunk of muscle torn from his left shoulder.

But, as expected of a strong one, he didn’t stay on the receiving end.

* * *

*Whoosh!* Rafael’s greatsword twisted in, a strange angle, as if to cleave Caesar in two. A beat faster than expected, Caesar reacted perfectly, though not quite enough to fully evade.

“…Ugh!”

A long gash, from Caesar’s lower left abdomen to his right shoulder.

Rafael, struck on the shoulder, seemed to have taken worse damage, but judging by the blood loss, Caesar’s losses were greater. They’d jumped into what looked like an opening, only to be counterattacked.

“Tsk, pity you. Not even capable of a simple game of wits…”

The Marquis’s left shoulder injury was undeniably weakening his sword strikes, but it was a support role for his right hand, the impact was not massive. In that moment, he thought victory was his, a smug smile playing on his lips. But then—

“God, grant the powerless your healing grace.”

“What…!”

The Saintess herself had intervened.

Dimona, concealing her face, hiding her identity.

As she prayed, Caesar’s wounds began to heal with impossible speed.

Barely finishing the first prayer, she spoke again.

“God, upon the wicked, a just divine punishment.”

“Krk—aaak…!”

The divine flame, thought extinguished, reignited within the Marquis’s body. The problem was, instead of burning from the outside like before, unbearable pain was engulfing him from within.

*’That’s why the Saintess spoke so confidently…!’*

Aiden, having been secretly dismissive because of how easily it seemed to have been put out, felt remorse. It was the kind of power one could surely boast about. Until the Saintess died, the divine flame would continue to burn, inflicting ceaseless torment on the Marquis.

“You, you lowborn trash!!”

The Marquis’s former composure was gone, now he snarled with rage.

A good omen for Aiden’s group. What had been an 8 to 2 disadvantage had now evened out.

Around this point, Rafael couldn’t help but consider outside factors.

‘…Hrk, this farce will be over soon. The Ironblood Knights will clear the upper levels and come down.’

It was Caesar’s side that messed up the initial 1-on-1 duel between swordmasters. Now, the best course of action for the Marquis was to end things quickly by overwhelming with numbers and then clean up the mess.

However, the situation above wasn’t exactly in his favor either.

####

At the same time,

The Roen family mansion.

The Ironblood Knights, having entered the Roen estate, kept a suitable distance.

From the mansion entrance, they felt something amiss.

“…Strangely, there’s nobody about.”

“Wouldn’t they all be inside the mansion? Surely they need a lot of staff when attending a high-ranking noble?”

“Hmm, that makes sense.”

Knight Captain Marcel nodded at his subordinate’s words and entered deeper into the mansion.

But still, something was wrong.

In the vast mansion hall, there wasn’t a single maid or butler, not even a rat.

“Even so, isn’t this an outrageous absence?”

“Certainly, this is… odd….”

*Pshoo——!*

“Ughh…!”

“…What happened!?”

A knight falling was the signal.

From all sides, arrows shot out ceaselessly from the traps Luke had set.

*Pshoo, pshoo—!*

“Shields up, form ranks…!!”

The knights, seasoned in their trade, were quick to gather, managing a defense, but they couldn’t prevent some, caught off guard, from losing their lives or suffering wounds.

“You b*stards, how dare you…!”

The Este Marquisate had always been the hunters.

It never crossed their minds they’d be prey to a mere baron, and it was this carelessness that brought about this. While everyone’s teeth were ground together, a flash of long, golden hair rippled from the second floor. Cassano, the representative knight of the Roen family, appeared.

“My apologies for the delayed welcome. How do you find the gifts our family prepared?”

“You cowardly dogs…! Aren’t you ashamed, knights, of using such tricks!”

“The ones who should feel shame are Rafael Este and yourselves, for bringing so many knights against a mere barony. Don’t you think?”

“What…!?”

Marcel was already on edge, and now his blood was boiling. A knight from a mere barony had dared to insult the marquisate’s lord. Even more, he himself had been insulted – a humiliation he’d never before experienced, and could no longer bear.

“I’ll see for myself if your blade skills match your tongue, you scum…!”

“If you can make it up here, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

“Hah, I’ll climb those stairs right now and—”

*[KROOaaaHH—————!!]*

““………………!?””

An ominous sound echoed through the mansion, loud enough to make the walls tremble.

The knight’s company peered about, searching for the source of the noise. Just then…

“Kkyaaa—!”

[Kueeek——!!]

A wyvern statue, sprung from nowhere, clamped its jaws on a knight, snatching him up.

“……Sa-save me!”

*Kwajik*—!

And so, the knight, bitten and carried aloft, ended his life in a fountain of blood, sprayed across the air. The wyvern statues, resurrected by Luke, still boasted ferocious power.

“Krrk…!”

They’d thought they could finish off the Lowen barony before their tea even went cold; it was a misjudgment. They’d clearly known the Est family would come, prepared to the last detail.

“Everyone, stay calm! There are only two wyvern statues. We can easily handle them if we work together!”

The fact they attacked from the air was a pain, sure, but this was inside a building. Their power was bound to be diminished.

But the Lowen family still had one hidden card to play.

“My, my, such a crowd…”

A man walked, with heavy steps, into the chaos.

He murmured, a relaxed expression on his face.

“This is quite the predicament. My spirits are rather shy, you see.”

“What, you…!?”

The commander of the Marcel Knights had seen this silver-haired man, with his slitted eyes, several times at the banquet.

David Blackwell,

A man renowned throughout the empire not only for his family’s influence, but also for his formidable spirit magic.

“Sir David Blackwell! It concerns the Este Marquis and the Baron Loen’s house! If Marquis Blackwell were to find out….”

“Find out what? He’d hardly kill me. There’s no one in the family more capable than I.”

“W-what did you say…!? “

Meddling in the squabbles of other houses was a grave taboo, enough to earn a harsh reprimand from his father later. Yet, Aidan had earnestly pleaded, explaining how Elena’s life was at risk if they ignored this. David couldn’t simply turn a blind eye.

“Come forth, Ifrit.”

A manifestation of flames that seemed capable of burning everything to ash,

the highest-ranked spirit, Ifrit, revealed itself.

*Hwa-rooruk–!*

“A-ah, Commander. The gate…!”

The mansion’s main gate, through which they had just entered, was now blocked by a fierce wall of fire. The Iron Blood Knights were trapped here until the fighting was over.

David thought.

He had indeed been troubled, but coming here was the right decision.

‘That kind of pest has no business near Lady Elena.’

He saw it clearly. The Captain of the Knights, Marcel, had come to this mansion with sinister desires. He was resolved to personally deal with Marcel so that he wouldn’t harm Elena in any way.

“Now, who shall I roast to a crisp first?”

David’s slitted eyes opened slightly.

To the knights, it was a chilling, fiendish sight.