Duels under the ancient code were brutally unforgiving. Though they had long since faded from aristocratic life, that did not mean nobles-or even commoners-had forgotten the custom. After all, the Empire had never outlawed it.
The moment Mulan threw down his glove, the man opposite him came under immense pressure.
A duel meant far more than simply deciding a winner between two people. Among nobles, it concerned both personal dignity and family honor.
Sir Bess certainly had the right to refuse, but they were in the Count's Estate, at a birthday ball for the count's daughters attended by numerous nobles.
Bess knew that if he refused, he and even his family would become laughingstocks among the nobility throughout Valentine and beyond. Meanwhile, that brat Mulan Jonester would gain considerable personal prestige simply by throwing down a glove.
Ordinarily, Bess possessed some measure of reason and might have considered whom he was facing. But now, with little restraint left, the humiliation sent his negative emotions surging.
The lingering trace of fear in Bess vanished the moment he realized everyone in the hall was watching him. All that remained was intense anger.
"Do you think this will scare me? Do you think this will make you stand out in front of the count? Mulan Jonester, you bastard spawned by a second-rate family!"
Cursing furiously, Bess bent down and picked up Mulan's glove.
Many nearby nobles gasped softly, though quite a few sounded excited. They were not the ones dueling, after all. This was far more thrilling than merely dancing.
"Bess is finished..."
A little farther out, a young gentleman murmured to his friend the moment he saw Sir Bess pick up the glove.
"What? I heard Bess is quite good at hunting and fighting, and he served in the military too. Surely it's too soon to decide who'll win?"
"You only arrived in Valentine yesterday. You don't know who Mulan Jonester is. He fought through that entire brutal war, and recently he took down the Mad Killer who terrified all of Valentine, practically single-handedly. Bess is no match for him!"
The gentleman paused in thought, then added another sentence.
"Whether they use guns or swords."
By the food table, the people around them instinctively edged back when Bess picked up the glove. Mulan reached out to catch the glove Bess tossed back to him, then headed outward, with Bess following.
"My lord, I sincerely apologize for what has happened. We will take our duel outside."
Mulan addressed the old count standing nearby.
"No need. Duel here in the hall. Mulan Jonester, you have nothing to apologize for. If I were twenty years younger, I might well have made the same choice in your position just now."
The old count's expression was grave, but his words clearly favored Mulan. After all, Sir Bess had first been rude to the old count and his daughter, then behaved even more repulsively.
It could be said that Mulan's defense of the count's two daughters had ultimately brought about this duel.
Mulan would actually have preferred to duel outside. But with the old count's approval, he now had to fight here. He stopped and turned to face the grim-faced Bess.
The surrounding nobles slowly backed away of their own accord, while the servants of the Count's Estate hurried to clear away anything that might interfere, such as dropped handkerchiefs and wine someone had accidentally spilled.
"Father, Mr. Jonester..." "Will he be all right?"
Lily and Hathaway both voiced their concern for Mulan. The old count glanced back at his daughters and reassured them.
"The Jonester Family is different from the low-ranking baronet families most people think of. Nearly all present-day baronetcies could once be bought, and almost none are hereditary. But at least thirteen families are exceptions..."
The old count's explanation drew not only his daughters' attention but also the close interest of a large group of nearby nobles.
In the days of the Old Kingdom, noble titles were exceedingly precious. There had originally been thirteen baronet families, each a knightly house that earned royal recognition through martial prowess and loyalty. To preserve their tradition of military distinction, the Thirteen Knight Families had retained baronet as their hereditary rank, even though members had held various higher titles. Their descendants had to rely above all on their own military achievements.
This harsh yet noble family tradition ensured that descendants of the Thirteen Knight Families either remained obscure or shone brilliantly. The Jonester Family was one of the houses whose lineage had survived to the present day.
The old count's account was concise, but it gave many nobles unfamiliar with this history a new understanding of certain baronet families-and of the Jonester Family.
"And now, it seems we may look forward to the rise of one of those knightly families."
The old count's words surprised many nobles and made a number of young noblewomen lightly cover their mouths.
The floor had now been cleared. Not a single person was dancing in the vast ballroom, the music had long since stopped, and all the nobles had withdrawn to either side.
"Sir Bess, will you choose guns or swords? I should remind you, however, that this is the birthday ball of the two Misses Blanclin, and many guests are watching. Firearms would hardly be appropriate!"
That was what Mulan said, but inwardly he kept chanting, Guns, guns, guns...
Perhaps provoked by both the verbal confrontation and the challenge to duel, the unsettling aura around Sir Bess was growing increasingly intense. Mulan could feel it.
The man craved death-Mulan's death!
Under these circumstances, Mulan hoped to end the fight instantly with a gun. He was confident he could do it.
A sword duel, however, was generally decided by landing a thrust. With so many people watching, it would be difficult to strike a vital spot and kill him.
"I choose swords."
A servant from the count's household had already approached with a tray bearing two longswords. Bess stepped forward, took one, and drew it to inspect the blade. Mulan waved the servant away, grasped the silver handle of his cane, and slowly drew the Silver Sword concealed within.
Since there was no way to take a shortcut, he could only give it everything he had.
Neither man wasted another word. They advanced with swords in hand, and the moment they closed on each other marked the beginning of the duel. Everyone around them held their breath in suspense.
Mulan's gaze was as sharp as an eagle's. He had already rehearsed several possibilities in his mind. Unwilling to waste time, he seized the initiative and suddenly accelerated toward Bess.
Like most ordinary people, Bess thrust his sword at Mulan almost instinctively. Already prepared, Mulan accelerated again, turning aside to evade the thrust while swinging his own sword with all his strength.
Clang!
With a heavy crash, Mulan's sword struck Bess's blade. The tremendous force tore the sword from Bess's grip, and as it flew away, the momentum pulled him off balance.
Mulan did not stop. As he turned and passed alongside Bess, he planted his feet and drove a full-force chop of his left hand into the side of Bess's neck from behind.
The moment the chop struck the back of his neck, Bess felt an immense force slam into him. His eyes bulged forward.
Thud...
Bess pitched forward and slid two meters across the gleaming floor of the count's residence. His sword landed almost simultaneously, skidding some distance with a clatter.
Mulan slowly turned, his brow deeply furrowed. To the onlookers, the duel was decided, but to him, matters had only become more troublesome. That chop had been extremely heavy. With his current strength, it could have crippled or even killed a man, and Sir Bess had been knocked unconscious.
Indeed, once Bess lost consciousness, that sensation around him disappeared. Yet the situation had not changed.
To Mulan's senses, the Count's Estate remained shrouded in darkness, and it was beginning to grow cold and sinister. Goosebumps rose on his skin.
Clap, clap, clap...
Some of the nobles exclaimed in surprise, while others began to applaud. Mulan picked up the shaft of his cane and slowly sheathed his sword inside it, while the household physician approached with the servants to examine Bess.
"Congratulations, Mulan Jonester!"
The old count applauded Mulan, then announced loudly, "Let the ball continue!"
The music resumed, as though a bloodless duel could not possibly disrupt the ball. Even bloodshed would probably have made no difference. Mulan knew the ball would last until midnight, but he also knew they were in serious trouble.
"My lord, ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for spoiling your enjoyment. The duel is over, and it would no longer be appropriate for me to remain!"
"There's no need for that, Mr. Jonester. You may stay!"
"Indeed, Mr. Jonester. None of this was your fault!"
"Mulan, we don't mind!"
Seeing that Mulan intended to leave, the nobles and the old count all spoke up. Lily and Hathaway also personally urged him to stay, but he still shook his head.
"It would no longer be appropriate for me to stay. Thank you for your generosity, my lord, and thank you for the invitation, Miss Blanclin!"
Mulan put his gloves back on and straightened his clothes. After apologizing once more, he left the hall and headed outside.
I'd miscalculated. My judgment was wrong. This had little to do with Bess himself-or rather, it had little to do with him anymore. Mulan no longer dared stay. All he could do was leave immediately and fetch reinforcements.
As soon as Mulan left the hall, he quickened his pace as much as possible. On reaching the estate gates, he broke into a sprint and rushed straight toward a hired carriage parked nearby. Hired carriages were not permitted to wait for passengers inside the estate.
"Sir, I'm waiting for... Hey, sir, what are you doing? Sir..."
The driver grew frantic halfway through his sentence, because Mulan had actually drawn his sword, cut through the harness, and led out one of the horses.
"It's an emergency. I'll explain later! Hyah!"
Offering that hurried explanation, Mulan vaulted onto the horse and slapped its rump hard, galloping away without a saddle.
Riding bareback demanded exceptional skill, but Mulan was equal to it.
He drove the horse onward at a gallop without pausing for a moment, heading for the Holy Temple.