The Young Master's Entourage and a Plan for the Duel

Leon walked alone out of the grand gate of Count Strauss's Mansion, its surface engraved with intricate Magic Runes. Morning sunlight spilled across the broad flagstone streets of the Imperial Capital. Carriage wheels rumbled through the air alongside vendors' cries and the faint work chants drifting from the distant docks. The lively, clamorous atmosphere of the city stood in stark contrast to the hushed solemnity beneath the mansion's magical veil.

He had barely stopped outside the gate, before he could decide which way to go or how to find his supposedly numerous "underlings," when trouble—or rather, a part of the original owner's life—came looking for him on its own.

"Young Master Leon!"

A cry full of exaggerated delight and flattery came from the street corner. Leon turned to see three flamboyantly dressed young nobles hurrying toward him like hyenas that had caught the scent of meat. The leader was somewhat plump, dressed in a bright purple coat embroidered with gold thread. The fat on his face jiggled as he ran. He was Fili Windsor, a member of some collateral branch of the Minister of Finance's Windsor family, and the original owner's chief lackey and "financial adviser"—mainly responsible for helping him spend money and find amusement.

Two young men followed behind him. One was as thin and tall as a bamboo pole: Jerome, the youngest son of a viscount's family. The other was broad and fierce-looking: Barton, nephew to the Imperial Capital's chief constable. None of the three came from especially prominent families, but by currying favor with Leon, they had become notable figures among the capital's young wastrels.

"Young Master Leon! You finally came out!" Fili panted as he ran up, his face covered in smiles. "The brothers and I came first thing this morning. We were afraid of disturbing you and the Count during breakfast, so we didn't dare go in. We've been waiting out here the whole time!"

Jerome and Barton hurriedly bowed and greeted him as well, their eyes filled with reverence and eager flattery.

Leon looked at the three faces that practically screamed "fair-weather friends" and felt speechless. These were the core members among his supposedly huge gang of underlings? They did not look reliable in the slightest. He tried to recall how the original owner usually treated them, then gave a noncommittal grunt in an imitation of that casual, faintly patronizing tone.

"Young Master, have you heard?" Fili stepped closer and lowered his voice, his face showing a complicated mixture of excitement and concern. "That brute Andre Stewart declared this morning at the Warrior's Sleep tavern that he'll be waiting for you at noon at the Old Knight Training Ground in the western outskirts, for a fair and honorable duel! Half the Imperial Capital already knows!"

As expected, the news had spread quickly. Leon's heart sank, but he forced himself not to show the slightest fear. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and put on the original owner's standard expression of a fearless young tyrant. "Hmph. The son of a watchdog dares challenge me? Noon, is it? I'll be there on time to teach him a lesson!"

"Young Master is mighty!" Fili immediately showered him with praise, then rubbed his hands together and cautiously asked, "But, Young Master... I heard Andre is already a High Knight. He's quite formidable... Don't you think we should... come up with some other methods?" His small eyes gleamed slyly, making his meaning obvious. For instance, Barton could ask his uncle to send a squad of guards to arrest Andre before the duel on charges of gathering to fight, locking him up for a few days. Or they could spend heavily to hire a powerful thug to ambush him on the way...

Such dirty tactics were clearly among the original owner's usual tricks.

The old Leon might have accepted the suggestion. But although the current Leon had inherited the memories, his soul came from a world that at least outwardly valued rules and decency. Using such underhanded methods right away posed a serious psychological hurdle. Besides, Aunt Margaret's attitude that morning had been clear. She could help, but she wanted to see him solve this himself. If he won through such disgraceful means, she would probably think even less of him.

"No need." Leon waved a hand, trying to make his tone sound unfathomable. "I have my own brilliant plan for dealing with a brute like that."

Fili and the other two exchanged looks. They clearly did not understand why their leader, who had always believed in "simple and direct" methods—meaning throwing his weight around and playing dirty—had suddenly changed. Still, Leon's accumulated authority was too great for them to question him.

"Young Master, then what should we do now?" Jerome asked tentatively.

"Find somewhere to sit and talk," Leon said. "Call everyone. I have orders to give."

"Right away!" Fili perked up at once. Calling people together and displaying their influence was what he did best and loved most. He immediately gave Barton a look. Barton understood, pulled a strange horn-shaped object from his coat, raised it to his lips, puffed out his cheeks, and blew hard.

Instead of a deafening horn blast, it produced a low but highly penetrating hum, like countless bees beating their wings at once.

Leon was still wondering what it was for when he saw something surprising. People began drifting toward them from the alleys lining the street, the nearby shops, and even among those who appeared to be ordinary passersby, all after hearing the sound.

Within moments, no fewer than twenty or thirty people had gathered around Leon. They wore all manner of clothing. Some were extravagantly dressed young nobles, some looked like hardened mercenaries or thugs, and several had shifty eyes and the look of well-informed local gang leaders. Their faces held varying degrees of respect, flattery, or fear as they bowed and greeted Leon.

"Young Master Leon!"

"Greetings, Young Master!"

"We pay our respects, Young Master!"

Their voices rose one after another. The scene resembled a mob boss making an appearance, drawing the curious looks of passing pedestrians. But the instant they recognized Leon von Hohenzollern at the center of the crowd, they lowered their heads and hurried away, terrified of inviting trouble.

Leon looked at the bustling mass before him, his emotions a tangled mess. The original owner's reputation as the Imperial Capital's number one young tyrant clearly had not been exaggerated. This "entourage" was certainly sizable, though its quality... varied wildly. There were noble lackeys like Fili, useless bags of wine and rice, people like Barton who could mobilize a bit of influence at the edge of official power, and all sorts of bottom-feeders from the city's underworld.

This was no noble social circle. It was practically a miniature map of the Imperial Capital's underground factions.

"Let's go. To the usual place." Leon suppressed the strange feeling in his heart and waved a hand. From the memories, he knew that the original owner usually met with this lot at an exclusive club on Nightingale Street called the Canary. It served as their base.

The group marched through the streets in a grand procession toward Nightingale Street. Fili followed attentively at Leon's side like a hunting dog clearing the way, constantly sharing the latest gossip and rumors he had heard, from some countess's affair to the Ministry of Finance's newest tax policies. Jerome and Barton guarded Leon on either side like bodyguards.

Soon, they arrived at the Canary club. It was still early, and the club had not officially opened for business, but the manager had clearly received word in advance. He respectfully welcomed them inside and led them directly to a spacious, luxurious private room at the far end of the second floor.

The room was covered in thick carpets, with artistic—or perhaps suggestive—oil paintings hanging on the walls. A huge round table stood in the center, surrounded by comfortable cushioned sofas. Before long, servants brought exquisite pastries and wine.

Leon naturally took the seat of honor, while Fili and the others sat around him according to their rank. The lower-ranking gang leaders and thugs could only stand around the edges.

"Quiet." Leon tapped the table, and the room immediately fell silent. Everyone looked at him expectantly.

Leon swept his gaze over his "underlings" and slowly began to speak. His voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority—a result of the original owner's innate noble bearing mixed with Leon's own inner tension.

"You all know about Andre Stewart," Leon said directly. "At noon, at the Old Knight Training Ground. A duel."

A faint stir ran through the room, and many faces showed either concern or excitement.

"I called you here today not to discuss how to avoid the fight or what tricks to use." Leon's words stunned Fili and the other core lackeys. "I will go to the duel. And I will win beautifully."

"Young Master, what do you mean?" Fili asked cautiously.

"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated," Leon said, using a phrase that sounded unusually refined for this crowd. "Tell me everything you know about Andre Stewart, every last detail. His strength, personality, habits, preferences, who he's been in contact with lately, his family situation... everything you can think of!"

The people in the room were somewhat dumbfounded. In the past, when Leon encountered this sort of trouble, he either led them directly into a group brawl or ordered them to play dirty. Since when had he become so... particular? He even wanted intelligence analysis?

But no one dared question him. Before long, under Leon's guidance, the private room turned into a strange intelligence-gathering scene.

Everyone spoke at once, collecting all sorts of messy information, some true and some false.

"That Andre kid is incredibly strong. I saw him carrying a huge wooden crate by himself at the docks last time!"

"He gets up before dawn every morning to practice swordsmanship without fail. He's stubborn as a mule."

"I heard he has a sweetheart, the daughter of a bakery owner in the western district. He often sneaks over there to buy rye bread."

"Deputy Commander Stewart keeps him on a tight leash. His allowance is pitifully small, so he never comes to places like ours."

"I heard he's wanted to join the Royal Knights recently, but because his father serves in the City Guard, there seems to be some obstacle..."

"Oh, right. The night before last at the Golden Clover, after you mocked his family for being watchdogs, he shouted that the Stuart Family's honor could not be tarnished and that he would wash away the insult through a duel!"

The information was chaotic, but Leon's mind worked at high speed, filtering and analyzing. He discarded the useless boasting and gossip, focusing on several key points.

1. Personality: Upright, impulsive, and extremely concerned with honor and the family name. This was the core trait.

2. Needs: He wanted recognition through his own ability and hoped to join the more prestigious Royal Knights.

3. Weaknesses: He was short on money, strictly controlled by his father, and had someone he cared about—the bakery owner's daughter.

4. Motive: His main reason for the duel was to defend his family's honor, not mere belligerence.

A plan slowly began taking shape in Leon's mind. Meeting force with force was the worst option, while begging for mercy or cheating would amount to self-destruction. Perhaps he could make use of his opponent's character and the rules...

He looked at the minor gang leader who had provided the information about the Royal Knights. "You said he wants to join the Royal Knights. Is that reliable? What's stopping him?"

Seeing Leon value his information, the man was overwhelmed with delight. "It's reliable, Young Master! I have a distant cousin who works as a groom for the knight order. That's where I heard it. As for the obstacle... I heard the Royal Knights place more importance on background and recommendations. Andre's father was born a commoner and climbed up through military merit. He doesn't have many connections among the nobility, so..."

Leon nodded, understanding flashing through his eyes. Then he turned to Fili. "Fili, do two things immediately in my name."

"Your orders, Young Master!" Fili immediately straightened his back.

"First, find the most famous notary in the Imperial Capital, preferably one known for being strictly impartial. Invite him to the Old Knight Training Ground at noon to officiate this duel. Remember, publicize it widely. Everyone must know that this duel will be open, fair, and just!"

Fili froze. "A... a notary? Young Master, in our past duels... we never did anything like that?" In the past, they either fought and got it over with, or the fight never happened at all. Hiring a notary for something so formal was completely unprecedented.

"Do as I say!" Leon's tone allowed no argument. "Second, send Deputy Commander Stewart a letter in my name. The contents are simple: inform him of the duel, and stress that this is a fair contest between young men for honor, unrelated to their families or positions. Ask him not to interfere and not to worry."

This time, not only Fili but everyone in the room was stunned. Writing to the other side's parent? And putting it in such... lofty terms? The sun might as well have risen in the west!

Seeing their shocked expressions, Leon thought to himself, What do you know? This is called claiming the moral high ground and cutting off any chance for his father to make an issue of it afterward! It is also a show for Aunt Margaret and all the spectators!

"Do you all understand?" Leon raised his voice.

"Understood! Understood!" Fili was full of doubts, but he did not dare disobey and hurriedly agreed.

"The rest of you." Leon's gaze swept over the room. "Before noon, spread the news that I, Leon, will be holding a 'fair Honor Duel' with Andre Stewart throughout every corner of the Imperial Capital! Make sure it reaches the salons and theaters frequented by nobles, ladies, and young misses in particular! I want everyone to come witness this duel!"

He intended to fully publicize a conflict that might otherwise have been settled on a small scale. The pressure could not rest on him alone. Once everyone became a spectator, the nature of many things changed.

The underlings did not understand their young master's deeper intentions, but spreading rumors and stirring up excitement was their bread and butter. They immediately answered in a roar of agreement, rubbing their hands together as they prepared to make a grand spectacle of it.

Watching these fully mobilized "subordinates," Leon lifted his wineglass and took a small sip. The wine was spicy, but it cleared his confused thoughts somewhat.

The original owner had left him with a terrible hand: underlings of wildly uneven quality and a powerful enemy. But perhaps with a different way of thinking, he could play it in a new way.

At the very least, he could not simply sit and wait for death.

The Old Knight Training Ground at noon would be his first trial in this world.

"Andre Stewart..." Leon silently repeated the name. Let's see whether your sword is sharper, or my mind is faster.