Chapter 44: A Duel That Shakes the Court
The air in the dueling arena grew heavy with tension. The nobles, seated on the golden balconies above, leaned forward in anticipation. The first two strikes had been **Leonhardt's.**
The Crown Prince of the empire—Hadrian Ravenhart—was **losing.**
And he did **not** like it.
Hadrian exhaled slowly, his **emerald-green eyes** narrowing.
The casual ease in which Leonhardt had moved—his **footwork precise, his swordplay unreadable**—was unnatural. The boy was **ten years old**, yet he had the reflexes and battle instinct of a **seasoned warrior.**
Hadrian adjusted his stance.
He had entered this duel thinking it would be an **evaluation** of the Grand Duke's heir.
Now he knew better.
This was **not** a test.
This was a **battle.**
---
### **A Shift in the Duel**
"Interesting," the emperor murmured from his throne-like seat above the arena.
A slow smirk formed on his lips. **"Let us see how the Crown Prince responds."**
Hadrian tightened his grip on his practice sword.
Then—he **moved.**
His blade lashed out, not in a reckless strike, but with **measured speed and precision.** A calculated counterattack.
Leonhardt tilted his head slightly, his **fiery red eyes** flickering.
He could see it.
The shift in Hadrian's swordplay.
No longer treating him as a **child.** No longer **underestimating** him.
Leonhardt smiled slightly.
**Good.**
---
### **Blades Clash**
The next exchange was faster.
Hadrian's sword came in from the right, aiming for **Leonhardt's side.**
A feint.
But Leonhardt had seen through it.
He **leaned back**, the blade missing him by mere inches. Then, with a smooth **counter**, he aimed a thrust at Hadrian's exposed flank.
Hadrian reacted instantly.
**Clang!**
The sound of metal meeting metal echoed through the courtyard as Hadrian barely blocked the strike.
His expression darkened.
He had been **forced to defend.**
The nobles watching from above **murmured in shock.**
"The Crown Prince… is on the defensive?"
---
### **The Emperor Watches Closely**
Up above, Emperor Alistair leaned back in his seat, watching with sharp, golden eyes.
**"He is holding back."**
Selene Everhart's voice was calm beside him. She had not spoken since the duel began, but now, her **violet gaze** flickered toward her son.
Alistair smirked. "Oh? Do you mean the prince?"
Selene's gaze did not waver. **"No."**
Alistair raised an eyebrow, then turned his attention back to the fight.
Leonhardt **was holding back.**
His footwork was too controlled. His movements, while fast, were **deliberately restrained.**
If the Grand Duke's heir was already **this capable at ten years old…**
Then just how terrifying would he be in the years to come?
---
### **Hadrian's Last Stand**
Hadrian **exhaled sharply.**
He had been forced to adjust his stance again. This time, his body **shifted lower, his grip tighter.**
He had no choice.
If he wanted to land even **one hit**, he needed to go all out.
The air **crackled**.
He **channeled mana** into his legs—enhancing his speed.
Then—
He **vanished.**
Gasps erupted from the nobles as Hadrian blurred forward, his sword flashing toward Leonhardt's shoulder.
It was a **strike faster than anything before.**
But—
Leonhardt had already **moved.**
He didn't dodge.
He **stepped in.**
Hadrian's eyes widened in shock.
A feint? No—he's—
Then—
Leonhardt's sword struck **Hadrian's wrist** with precision.
The Crown Prince's weapon was **knocked from his grip.**
And just like that—
**The duel was over.**
---
### **A Stunned Silence**
The nobles **froze.**
Hadrian—**the Crown Prince of the Empire**—had lost.
To a **ten-year-old boy.**
The air was thick with disbelief.
Even Duke Dargan, who had proposed the duel in the first place, looked like he had **swallowed poison.**
Leonhardt **lowered his practice sword**, his expression calm, unreadable.
Hadrian, still in shock, **stared at his empty hands.**
Then—he **laughed.**
The sound was unexpected, light but genuine.
"**I see now.**"
He turned to Leonhardt, emerald eyes sharp with newfound respect.
"You're stronger than I thought."
Leonhardt tilted his head. "You as well."
Hadrian smirked. "Somehow, I don't believe you."
The nobles whispered among themselves, **uncertain how to react.**
The emperor, however—
He **laughed.**
---
### **The Emperor's Declaration**
Alistair Ravenhart **stood from his seat**, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement and something deeper—**satisfaction.**
"Well fought," he declared. "Both of you."
The words **dismissed** any doubts about the outcome.
Leonhardt had won.
And **the entire imperial court had seen it.**
Then, the emperor turned to the gathered nobles.
"Let it be known that the heir of Grand Duke Everhart has proven himself worthy of standing among the strongest in this empire."
His voice was absolute.
Undeniable.
And then, his gaze flickered to Leonhardt.
"Your growth will be interesting to watch, Leonhardt."
Leonhardt met the emperor's gaze without hesitation.
His own **red eyes burned** with something deeper.
A silent message passed between them.
**Watch all you like, old man.**
This was only the beginning.
---
### **Aftermath of the Duel**
As the court dispersed, many nobles approached Leonhardt—some with **praise**, others with **thinly veiled wariness.**
Hadrian, for his part, had regained his usual smirk. "I'll want a rematch one day."
Leonhardt's lips curved slightly. "**Then get stronger.**"
Hadrian's laughter echoed in the hall.
Nearby, Aldric Everhart watched **quietly**, his crimson gaze unreadable.
Selene, standing beside him, spoke softly. "He has caught the emperor's full attention now."
Aldric exhaled. "It was inevitable."
Selene's **violet eyes** flickered toward her son.
Leonhardt **had placed himself at the center of imperial politics today.**
And from this moment on—
**The games would truly begin.**