CHAPTER 107: THE END OF MADNESS

Even after being released by Lucen, Reginald did not get up from the ground. He could not believe the result. While he was fighting Lucen, he could feel that the other party was not using any aura, nor did he use a single spell except for that unique magic that created the weapons in his hands.

That would mean that Lucen, without using any spell except for his unique magic, defeated him, who was using his first mantle aura.

’This doesn’t make any sense. How could I lose?...’

Even now that he was on the ground, the idea of him being defeated could not register properly in his mind.

’It was not supposed to end this way.’

Reginald then heard the applause of the people; they were cheering for Lucen’s victory. He then saw the looks on his own family; it was a mix of pity, disappointment, and shame.

On the other hand, Lucen was receiving praise and adulation.

’No... no, no, no, no, no! This is all wrong!’ Reginald clutched his hair. ’I’m the one who should be celebrated... I’m the one who should be showered with applause!’

Reginald’s chest heaved as he forced himself to his knees, trembling, glaring at Lucen with wide, bloodshot eyes.

’Why... why is it always like this?! Elyra... now him! No matter how hard I train, no matter how much I strive, someone better always crushes me! Why am I always the one on the ground?! Is it because they’re from Duke families, and I’m merely the product of a Count and Marquess Bloodline?... No, that can’t be it! How am I less talented than they are!’

He pounded his fist against the dirt until his knuckles split. Despite his heavy breathing, he continued to punch, blood flowing out of his hands.

’It’s not fair... It’s not fair... IT’S NOT FAIR!’

Seeing the reaction of her son, Elandra wanted to comfort him, but she knew that doing so would not result in anything good. On the other hand, her husband, Count Vermont, was looking at their son with contempt.

Marquess Halbrecht just wished that his grandson would stop now, while he still had a tiny bit of dignity left.

Reginald’s fists trembled, raw and bloody, pressed against the dirt. His lips curled into a twisted snarl.

’Why... why is it always me?! Why do I have to be the one humiliated while they stand above me like kings?! It just doesn’t make any sense... That’s it, I did not fail!’

"He cheated! That could be the only reason that makes sense!" His eyes darted back to Lucen, blazing with hate and desperation.

Gasps spread through the hall at his words. The laughter, the cheers, even the chatter quieted. Accusing someone of cheating during a royal-sanctioned duel was no small matter; it was the desperate cry of someone cornered.

"Cheated?" One noble whispered.

"He dares say that after being toyed with?" another scoffed.

Reginald ignored them all. His shaking finger shot out toward Lucen, his voice cracking but loud enough for the entire gathering to hear.

"Y-Yes! That strange weapon of his, it can’t be real magic! No one has ever seen such a thing! It’s a trick, some underhanded device! Otherwise, how could a first-circle mage defeat a first-mantle aura user like me in close combat?! It’s impossible!"

His ranting echoed across the training hall, but instead of rallying support, it only deepened the looks of disdain around him. Some nobles shook their heads. Others chuckled darkly at his collapse.

Lucen, meanwhile, stood calmly, his expression unreadable. To the crowd, his silence was damning proof of confidence. To Reginald, it was salt in the wound.

"Say something!" Reginald screamed, his voice breaking. "Admit it! You cheated! Tell them! Tell them all this wasn’t real!"

At that moment, Reginald wasn’t just a defeated noble youth. He was a boy on the edge, clawing at scraps of dignity while the entire noble society watched him unravel.

"So you say I cheated, and the unique magic I used, which by the way I showed before the start of the duel and was allowed, was the item that allowed me to win, is that it?"

"That wasn’t any unique magic; there are no such records of there being such a unique magic. So you must have cheated. How else can I lose to someone like you!" Reginald’s true thoughts were coming out for everyone to hear.

’This guy really is entertaining... Well, it would be so much more entertaining if I were just reading this part in a novel or watching it on my television, but being the one in the situation, it’s actually making me feel slightly sad for the guy. Huh?... Well, only slightly it’s still entertaining though.’ Lucen thought to himself before replying.

"You do know that not all unique magic has been recorded. There are still many out there that we have no idea about, right Tower Masters." Lucen asked the Tower Masters, the highest-level mages in the kingdom.

"Yes, as said by Lucen, there are many types of unique magic that we haven’t seen yet. It is possible that there could be so much more unimaginable magic out there." One of the Tower Masters replied.

The nobles who had been murmuring now chuckled outright, their laughter like knives slicing Reginald’s pride to ribbons.

"Did you hear that? Even the Tower Masters deny his claim."

"So the boy can’t even accept defeat with dignity."

"A Count’s son accusing a Duke’s heir of cheating, pathetic."

Reginald’s voice cracked as he shouted, "No, there must be a mistake! There’s just no way you can defeat me!"

Lucen tilted his head, scratching his cheek as though bored. "Since you think I won because of my unique magic, then let’s settle it properly."

The room fell silent.

Lucen’s eyes met Reginald’s, calm and unyielding. "Choose any weapon you want. Sword, spear, axe, even unarmed, it doesn’t matter. I’ll fight you again, without my magic, and show you that no matter what you pick... I can still beat you."

Reginald’s heart thundered in his chest. The offer wasn’t a lifeline; it was a noose. If he accepted and lost again, his humiliation would be absolute. But if he refused, it would look like cowardice.

His hands trembled. His pride screamed. And his eyes, bloodshot and wild, locked on Lucen with hatred that bordered on madness.

’Why am I even hesitating? He won’t use that so-called unique magic. Without that, he’s just another loser to be beaten.’

Count Vermont stepped forward and spoke. The Count’s voice cracked like a whip across the hall, silencing Reginald mid-breath.

"Enough! You’ve already shamed your family. If you continue this farce, then even the tiniest shred of honor and dignity you have left will vanish."

’Even my own father won’t believe in me! My honor and dignity will vanish? Hmph, if I bend down to the force of the Duke’s son, then my honor and dignity will truly vanish. Even now, everyone is being fooled, thinking that Lucen Thornehart is in the right. What did I do wrong? He was the one who tricked me, making me think he was but a lowly merchant. He also has his men beat up my bodyguards. He’s the one in the wrong, not I!’

The madness in Reginald’s eyes did not fade, but only burned even brighter. Noticing this, Count Vermont spoke again. "Stand down, Reginald. Or I will disown you here and now."

Reginald only laughed, a hollow, trembling sound that made the hairs on some necks rise. His bloodied lips twisted into a grin.

"No... no, Father, you’re wrong. I won’t be remembered as a disgrace. I’ll prove it here and now!" His voice cracked like glass, but his defiance carried through the hall.

He jabbed a trembling, bloodied finger at Lucen. "Lucen Thornehart! This time we duel with swords. no tricks, no strange magic. Just you, me, steel, and aura!"

Count Vermont’s jaw clenched. He turned sharply to Lucen, his expression stormy yet controlled. "There is no need for you to accept, young Thornehart. You have already won. My son—" he stopped, his voice hard as stone, "no, my former son has already lost."

The words struck like a hammer. Some nobles drew in sharp breaths. Others shook their heads.

Reginald’s pupils dilated, his breath ragged. But instead of despair, his eyes glowed with madness. "Former son...? No! I will prove my worth here and now! Pick up the sword, Lucen Thornehart, and I shall prove my worth by making you bleed!"

"Very well, let’s end this, Reginald."

Lucen took one of the swords from the rack. The second Lucen picked up the sword, Reginald did not even wait for the starting signal and simply charged forward at full power.

Lucen, using his battle instinct skill, was able to tell what kind of attack Reginald was about to make. A forward piercing attack, straight and true with incredible speed and precision. This was the strongest attack Reginald had unleashed. He had surpassed himself, but that wasn’t enough.

Reginald lunged, aura flaring in a desperate thrust that carried all his pride. For a fleeting moment, it looked like steel would find flesh, only for Lucen’s wrist to tilt, his blade brushing Reginald’s aside as if redirecting a child’s strike.

Lucen didn’t even shift his footing. His blade moved with the smallest adjustment, like brushing away an annoying fly. Blood welled on Reginald’s cheek, proof of defeat carved in red.

"I win again."

The nobles started to whisper at each other disdain in their voices, "Pitiful. If only he had yielded gracefully, at least some honor could have been salvaged."

Reginald, still unable to accept his defeat, charged at Lucen, but this time his grandfather, Marquess Halbrecht, intervened.

The old Marquess’s fist sank into his grandson’s gut like a hammer striking an anvil. Reginald’s eyes rolled back, a strangled gasp escaping before he collapsed. "Enough," Halbrecht growled, his voice heavy with finality.