Chapter 424: You Won

Though a princess, however fallen, remains a princess, the unceasing torrent of blame and slander inflicted an immense burden upon Blanche.

These detractors were not merely the surrounding nobility; even her own father and Garrett had once uttered such words.

Garrett in particular, as the crown prince, had always held himself to the exacting standard of a future king, placing royal honor and his own prestige upon a pedestal; any blemish was bound to provoke his displeasure.

In the years before Garrett departed the Golden Feather City, whenever the whispers regarding Blanche reached his ears outside, he would return to the Golden Feather Palace and head straight to the Moon Shadow Palace to subject her to a harsh reprimand.

Though he never raised a hand against her, this mental torment was a lingering agony of its own.

Listening to Blanche’s tribulations, a wave of heartache washed over him; rumors truly were a lethal poison.

It was fortunate that she possessed a resilient spirit; had it been any girl of weaker resolve, she would have been driven to deep depression or even madness, if not driven to end her own life.

Should a princess ever lose her mind, Bruno and Garrett would find it an even greater stain upon their reputation, and to safeguard the dignity of the crown, they might well have her killed and claim she succumbed to illness.

Of course, this was merely Ronin’s dark conjecture; surely Bruno would not resort to such lengths.

"I finally understand why you looked so terrified just now."

Ronin tightened his grip on her hand. "Rest assured, now that you are with me, no one will ever bully you again."

Blanche had been deeply despondent as she spoke of her sorrowful past, tears welling in her eyes, but upon hearing Ronin’s vow, she could not help but weep with sudden joy.

"Mhm, I believe you!"

She wiped away her tears. "I feel that Garrett has violent tendencies. When you clash with him shortly, you must be exceptionally careful. If things go ill, call a halt immediately."

"Do not worry, I know my limits."

When Ronin first agreed to the sparring match, he had intended to grant his future brother-in-law some face by holding back and letting himself lose.

However, after learning of Blanche’s trials, he changed his mind—he would not seek victory, but he would not allow the other man to triumph easily either.

Though it was a private duel, word of the encounter would inevitably leak to the outside world.

If Ronin were to defeat Garrett in a single stroke, he would shatter the long-standing myth of the "Crown Prince, Peerless Under Heaven," delivering a direct blow to the prestige of the royal house.

Furthermore, this private bout carried no prize; winning brought no benefits whatsoever, but would instead court a mountain of trouble.

To fall just short of victory was the finest outcome.

Across the vast training grounds, several knights were currently engaged in drills; they belonged to His Highness the Crown Prince’s personal guard squad.

"Gethman!" Garrett called out.

Every training knight halted mid-motion, and one particularly tall, robust knight came running over at a brisk pace.

His features were unremarkable, save for a long, hideous scar slicing across his face, left behind years ago when he was injured during a spar with Garrett.

"Your Highness, what are your commands!" Gethman spoke with deep reverence.

Garrett extended a hand. "Lend me your longsword."

Though Gethman was bewildered, seeing that Moody, the sword-bearer following the crown prince, was already carrying his Highness's own blade, he did not hesitate for a moment and handed his weapon over.

"Your sword is quite fine. It must have cost a fair amount of gold, yes?"

Gethman nodded. "It was forged by the Dark Enamel Family. Though it is not an enchanted transcendent weapon, its durability is exceptionally high. Your subordinate spent most of his life's savings to purchase it!"

"Mm."

Garrett nodded, turning his gaze back toward the path they had come, where he saw Ronin and Blanche conversing in intimate tones.

"A slave to beauty, it seems."

He held Ronin in slightly lesser esteem now; a man of this sort, no matter his strength, could always be controlled so long as one offered him beautiful women.

As Ronin drew near, Garrett tossed Gethman’s longsword toward him, remarking, "A knight should always carry his sidearm, no matter where he walks. Going empty-handed like this leaves you at a severe disadvantage should an ambush occur."

Ronin caught the longsword; its weight was comparable to his Flowing Flame Sword, and though its quality was inferior, it was evidently no common blade.

"The Crown Prince speaks wisely. I shall keep your instruction close to heart in the future."

Ronin replied with a smile, choosing not to mention that he possessed a spatial ring.

"Very well, everyone fall back!"

Garrett walked off on his own to one end of the training grounds. "Gethman, you shall signal the start."

"Understood, Your Highness!"

Gethman could not help but lick his lips; ever since the crown prince ascended to the Silver Moon rank, he had scarcely crossed blades with anyone, and he never expected to be fortunate enough to witness it today.

Though he did not recognize Ronin, he could surmise a thing or two from Blanche’s presence, and he was eager to see just what kind of power this youth possessed—one rumored to have talent eclipsing even the crown prince.

"Heh, if he turns out to be a fraud, he’s going to have a miserable time today," Gethman thought to himself.

Ronin signaled for Blanche to retreat further back, while also asking Gethman and the others to look after her, lest she be caught in the aftershocks.

Gethman complied with the request without objection.

She was, after all, Her Highness the Princess, and with her marriage imminent, it would be disastrous if she were harmed.

Before long, Ronin and Garrett stood on opposing sides of the training grounds, separated by a distance of roughly four to five hundred meters.

Gethman picked up a stone and called out loudly, "When the stone strikes the earth, the duel begins!"

With those words, he tossed the stone high into the air.

Every gaze fixed upon the falling pebble.

The knights felt a surge of excitement; they were eager to watch the crown prince batter his opponent, a spectacle that, while bloody and violent, was always deeply striking.

By contrast, Blanche pressed her hands together in a silent, fervent prayer.

Thud!

The high-thrown stone struck the ground, emitting a crisp sound that reached every ear.

Zzap!

Almost the exact instant the stone touched the earth, lightning crackled violently across Garrett’s entire frame, his bodily vitality surging to its peak in that single moment as he transformed into a streak of purple lightning, tearing across the battlefield straight toward Ronin.

Defiance and defense had never existed in Garrett’s lexicon; his combat philosophy was entirely predicated upon assault, a relentless, proactive offensive.

"A lightning-attribute battle technique that enhances speed?"

Ronin harbored not a shred of fear; taking a step forward, tempestuous winds surged around him, rendering his speed not a whit inferior to his opponent's.

In a mere second, the two covered the four to five hundred meters between them, colliding squarely in the center of the grounds.

"Heh, you're not slow!"

Garrett laughed, swinging his sword down at Ronin, the lightning coiled around the blade seemingly intent on devouring everything in its vicinity.

A sharp gleam flashed through Ronin’s eyes; choosing not to meet the strike head-on, he twisted his torso, deftly evading Garrett’s thunderous blow.

With a resounding boom, the lightning slammed into the earth, instantly tearing deep wounds into the ground.

Ronin’s longsword danced in his grip, a fierce arc of blade-light cutting through the air like a shooting star, striking directly for the other man’s throat.

Garrett’s expression shifted slightly; he had not expected Ronin to match his speed, let alone possess such exquisite footwork and swordsmanship.

He hastily adjusted his stance, angling his blade upward to collide with Ronin’s longsword.

"Clang!"

The sharp screech of clashing metal echoed across the training grounds; neither man's momentum waned, growing only more ferocious instead. They traded blows back and forth, their blades flashing in a blur, each collision seemingly threatening to tear the very air asunder.

The spectating knights stood frozen in astonishment, having fully expected Ronin to suffer a swift and crushing defeat, yet before their eyes, the youth parried every strike, matching his opponent blow for blow in an intricate dance of steel.

Geman’s eyes widened to saucers; it had been an age since he last witnessed anyone capable of holding their own against Prince Gareth in the art of the blade.

Blanche clenched her hands into tight fists, her gaze riveted anxiously on the two combatants in the center of the yard, praying only that Ronin would emerge unscathed, regardless of victory or defeat.

"Splendid! You have truly roused my thirst for battle!"

Finding their prolonged clash of close-quarter steel fruitless, Gareth leaped backward, utilizing the momentum to put distance between them as his sword tip leveled squarely at Ronin, its point crackling with the condensed fury of deep purple lightning.

"Thunderous Flash!"

In that selfsame instant, Ronin shifted his stance, compressing his fiery aura to its absolute limit along the length of his blade before unleashing it in a blinding eruption.

"Flame Flash!"

Two grade-six battle techniques collided mid-air with an earth-shattering roar, sending a shockwave through the grounds that struck the onlookers' hearts like a massive sledgehammer.

"Watch out!"

Geman's battle aura surged violently throughout his frame as he threw himself in front of Blanche, weathering the onslaught of the incoming gale.

Sizzle—

The tempestuous might of the lightning devoured the fiery radiance entirely, sweeping forward to claim Ronin with its lingering wrath.

"Without the amplification of the Flowing Flame Sword, the potency of Flame Flash is indeed somewhat diminished."

With a casual sweep of his hand, he unleashed a fiery slash to dissolve the remaining force charging toward him.

Whoosh!

Seizing the fleeting upper hand, Gareth lunged back into the fray with renewed ferocity.

Ronin originally intended to counter the charge with unyielding force, yet as his blade met the oncoming strike, he subtly withheld two fractions of his strength.

Under the impact of this collision, the tremendous recoil sent Ronin reeling backward at breakneck speed, presenting every appearance of a man driven into a corner.

"Haha!"

A victor's triumphant laughter burst from Gareth as he pressed his advantage during Ronin's momentary suppression, his greatsword hacking and thrusting in a furious flurry, eager to shatter Ronin's defense once and for all.

Yet despite being pushed to the defensive, the latter managed to parry every single blow with desperate grace, leaving the dominant Gareth utterly unable to deliver a decisive end to the duel.

The longer the stalemate persisted, the fiercer the rage and malice burned within Gareth's breast.

"Thunderstorm!"

In the blink of an eye, the space within a ten-meter radius of the prince erupted into a churning sea of lightning.

Vicious arcs of purple electricity whipped the earth, blasting deep craters into the dirt and leaving scorched, blackened rings along their edges.

His expression turning solemn, Ronin flicked his wrist, and a massive serpent of flame soared forth, coiling protectively around his body to stave off the encroaching storm.

Crackling pops, the roar of thunder, and the explosive bursts of flame interwove to create an unprecedented visual feast, for none among the crowd had anticipated the battle would ever escalate to such a spectacular degree.

Boom!

The overwhelming lightning ultimately shattered the fiery serpent, its residual power crashing heavily against Ronin's armor of battle aura.

Yet in the precise instant his aura armor shattered under the impact, Ronin's silhouette blurred as he leapt clear of the thunderstorm's domain.

Brushing a hand over a section of his sleeve that had been scorched through, he said with a smile, "Your Highness's offensive is formidable indeed; this battle is yours."

Gareth, who had been on the verge of charging once more, froze in his tracks, a wave of profound discomfort washing over his entire being.

The sensation was akin to a man enjoying a thoroughly satisfying release of his bladder, only to be abruptly startled into a sudden, agonizing halt.

"Have you lost heart merely because a single sleeve was pierced?"

Ronin nodded with firm conviction. "A pierced sleeve speaks volumes about the outcome."

Gareth cast a long, searching look at Ronin, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features, yet he eventually nodded and turned to depart.

Had he won?

He had certainly held the upper hand, but to call it a victory was far too premature.

Furthermore, he could sense that Ronin had not exerted his full strength; at the very least, no secret arts had been deployed.

Though he possessed secret arts of his own, had they been brought to bear, he would have gained a far more comprehensive understanding of Ronin's true capabilities.

Now, however, the other man had voluntarily conceded; if Gareth persisted in his assault, word would spread that he had bullied a brother-in-law who had already surrendered, a rumor that would severely tarnish his royal reputation.

After all, Ronin was no subordinate knight bound to endure his whims during a spar.

"Still, this bout was not without its rewards."

Gareth cast a backward glance at Ronin, who was currently returning his borrowed blade to Geman. "That fellow is absolutely no peak Shooting Star knight; he is a bona fide Silver Moon!"