* * *
“Weren’t there three people nearby at the time?”
“That person didn’t show the ability to take down a gargoyle.”
“You can’t judge based on appearance.”
“True enough. Honestly, I didn’t expect either of those two to be capable of slaying a gargoyle.”
“……”
Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?
The other knights began voicing their opinions as well.
Just by sound alone, it seemed like the opinions were split evenly, but in truth, most were against us.
Only a handful were defending us. Klen’s supporters were determined not to let this opportunity slip away.
And the moment we were disqualified, the one most likely to take the prize would be Fabian.
His supporters were desperate to snatch that glory away.
‘Nothing’s been confirmed yet… but this is worse than I thought.’
Normally, I wouldn’t care who won.
And before I got dragged into anything, I might’ve just faked fainting.
Klen, who hated trouble, probably would’ve welcomed the excuse and taken me back to the castle himself.
But of all things, why did the prize have to be Laevatein?
“Fabian, Klen. What do you two think?”
As he listened to each knight’s opinion, the Count suddenly singled them out.
‘What about me?’
Sure, the finalists were the two of them.
But that’s not right—it’s me and Klen.
Don’t tell me the Count grouped Klen and me together like some kind of couple.
Isn’t the winner supposed to be one person?
So this is what people mean when they say traveling alone in a foreign land is lonely.
Fabian stepped forward as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
“I think it’s a problem to revoke their eligibility without any evidence. They didn’t draw the spell. They simply defeated the monster. If they’re disqualified for that, then next time a strong monster appears out of nowhere, no one will try to fight it. And by then, if the city’s already been damaged, it’ll be too late.”
I could only blink at how smoothly the words flowed, like water.
What he said was the truth.
And it was a positive signal for us.
It felt like he was supporting us—protecting us, even.
“Therefore, one of the two should receive it. If, after the investigation, it’s revealed that they were indeed behind it, we can take it back then.”
It wasn’t just a feeling—Fabian was clearly supporting us.
‘Hyung…!’
The Count couldn’t hide the satisfied smile on his face.
He seemed pleased by the way his eldest spoke so confidently and by the breadth of mind he showed for his younger brother.
Then, the Count turned his gaze to Klen.
Now it was his turn.
Standing confidently without a hint of hesitation, he had my curiosity piqued.
He wouldn’t be able to speak as fluently as Fabian, not with the act he had to keep up.
But still—would he, too, show such humility?
“Just as Hyung said. It’s unfair to be disqualified without any solid proof.”
“…….”
My eyes widened.
And it wasn’t just me.
Normally, someone in his shoes would say something along the lines of, “I’m sorry I looked suspicious,” or “If that’s how it must be, I’ll step down,” even if they didn’t mean it.
But instead, he outright said it was unfair—like a child throwing a tantrum.
And yet, while clearly stating his opinion, he even added a bit of performance.
He glanced at me, eyes flicking in my direction, and continued.
“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of giving up.”
The cheerful smile on his face made him look like a mischievous kid.
With Fabian insisting we should receive the sword and Klen stepping up to claim it as well, the rest of the chatter became meaningless.
Everyone around us went quiet.
No one dared to interfere or chime in.
Amid the silence, a sharp snap rang out—the sound of a fan closing echoed loudly.
“Then for now, why not grant them the sword according to the rules, and conduct a thorough investigation? After all, a true sword always finds its rightful master.”
The Countess rose to her feet and spoke in a low but firm voice.
But her intention wasn’t clear.
Was she saying Klen was the rightful master of the sword—or Fabian?
“A true sword always finds its master.”
A lovely phrase.
Maybe that’s what’s happening now—after enduring trials, it’s making its way to its real owner.
“…….”
“…….”
No one objected, so the conclusion was reached.
“In that case, we’re back to the original point. So, will the two of you duel?”
Half a day had passed, and we were right back to square one.
So in the end, is this going to be settled with a duel between him and me?
“I…”
“Give Levatain to Adrian.”
“…?!”
Just as I was about to say I was willing to duel, Klen suddenly declared that he would give the sword to me.
No—maybe it wasn’t sudden.
From the beginning, he’d asked me if I wanted the sword.
Perhaps he always intended to hand it over to me.
Count Valuncio didn’t even flinch, as if he’d anticipated this outcome all along.
“This is a proper tournament, Klen. There’s no such thing as simply handing it over. You must either duel or hunt down another monster together. And of course… you do understand that intentionally losing would tarnish the Valuncio name, right?”
“……”
Unlike Klen, who was unfazed, my conscience hit the floor with a loud thud.
Even if I lost the duel, I would be the only one who knew he threw the match.
And yet my heart began to pound dangerously, as if I’d already been caught.
‘He’s so resolute…’
Perhaps Count Valuncio wanted his own son to have the sword more than me, the son of Caldrich.
It felt like he viewed my father as a rival.
But the Count was waiting for Klen’s answer, not mine.
Everyone held their breath, watching his every move.
Then his lips curved upward into a beautiful smile.
“No, Father.”
And he declared, with confidence:
“Adrian is the winner.”
“…Huh?”
“What?”
Naturally, everyone—myself, the Count, and the others—was dumbfounded.
It wasn’t a matter of yielding anymore—he was saying I had won.
But Klen and I had split the points from the gargoyle, so weren’t we tied?
He stepped toward the gargoyle’s corpse and pushed it aside.
“Ah.”
What lay beneath was a bat monster.
Small enough that even a weak person could probably take it down in one blow.
It was the one I’d caught near the edge of the forest when I’d just arrived.
“Adrian caught this one on his own, so please verify it.”
“……”
I had left it behind, thinking it was too trivial to earn any points.
When had he brought it along?
When I was asleep, maybe?
And he hadn’t even been there when I caught it, yet he was speaking with such confidence.
At the Count’s signal, a servant hurried forward and dropped a single drop of potion.
As before, a butterfly bathed in light emerged, fluttered to perch above my head, and then dispersed.
“…It’s true, then.”
With that soft, whispered remark, my score was updated.
Just a minuscule amount—the bat monster was barely worth anything.
But with that tiny number added, my victory was confirmed.
‘Wait, what the hell is this?!’
More than joy, bewilderment struck me.
Why had I won?
* * *
