I Stole The Duke - Chapter 116

“You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you, Michal!”

“We greet Your Grace.”

As Michalis arrived at the rendezvous point near the vineyard’s old cabin, Eliana and Joel greeted him with visible relief.

“You’ve been through a lot. Come inside, quickly.”

Eliana grabbed his hand and led him toward the cabin.

“I’ve prepared a change of clothes and something to eat.”

“Let me take off the mana restraint first. Michal, could you lower your head just a little?”

“Will this do?”

Click.

“Imperial Unlock.”

At Eliana’s soft chant, the collar-like mana shackle came undone with a crisp metallic sound.

“The fake Duke is expected to arrive around 3 a.m.”

“That doesn’t give us much time.”

Michalis quickly changed into clean clothes and sat down at a modest dinner table.

“Sir Joel, can you handle Ladis if needed?”

Ladis might be working quietly now, but before becoming Michalis’s aide, he had been an elite of the 2nd Knight Order. Joel needed to keep him fully occupied.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Neither you nor Ladis must be harmed. Understood?”

Both were valuable men. Michalis couldn’t allow either of them to be injured.

“I’ll remember that.”

Joel tensed a little. He had heard of Ladis—how he was set to be promoted to the Blue Knights before choosing a post as aide instead. But he had never actually crossed blades with him. The aide corps and the Knight Orders were separate, so Joel had no idea how far Ladis’s skills had progressed.

“We’ll go over the detailed strategy after the meal.”

Michalis paused there and picked up a spoon. He’d eaten nothing but hard bread after hours of nonstop training—this warm soup now felt like a miracle.

“……”

He didn’t stop for a moment, devouring the soup while Eliana silently cut pieces of meat and stacked them onto his plate.

“Ahem. Sir Joel, draw your sword.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Michalis stood, clearing his throat awkwardly after eating a shocking amount of food. He had eaten—now it was time to train.

“Haah…”

He grabbed the sword leaning beside the cabin door and glanced at his wrist. The blade felt heavier than it should have.

A sword this light shouldn’t feel this heavy… These wrists are really that thin?

But despite the fragility, the body was full of potential.

Now freed from the mana shackle, he could feel it—mana in the air clinging to him like dust, gathering to his body.

So this is… what it means to be a mage by nature.

It was a completely new sensation for Michalis. He lacked muscle, yes—but the bone structure was flawless. If trained properly, this body could become not just a mage, but something even rarer: a Magic Swordsman.

But… it’s not mine.

He quickly let go of that thought. His followers were loyal to Duke Ascher, not just to someone with power.

“Sir Joel. Draw your sword and try to channel your aura.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

Joel took a stance and began to concentrate. The unstable flicker of beginner-level aura shimmered faintly at his blade’s edge.

“There. Right around your elbow and shoulder… the mana flow is blocked.”

That was the greatest strength of this body—Michalis could see the flow of mana.

“Ah… I see.”

He stepped closer and gently placed his hand on Joel’s arm.

“Remember this feeling.”

Then, Michalis gathered the overflowing mana from his own heart and channeled it into Joel’s body. The energy surged from his shoulder, down his arm, and into the blade.

“Your Grace… what is this?”

Joel’s eyes went wide as he stared at the tip of his sword. The aura had turned from faint blue to a brilliant white—nearly glowing. White aura—the mark of a Sword master.

“Don’t look with your eyes. Feel it with your body.”

The only person who truly understood Ladis’s skill level was Michalis Ascher himself. If Joel went up against him as he was now, he could get seriously hurt.

He needed crash training—and fast.

“Yes, Your Grace!”

“Now try it on your own. Your elbow’s blocking the flow again. Reset!”

“Yes, sir!”

Michalis’s intense, tiger-like personal training continued without pause.

“Sir Joel, your focus is slipping. Are you already tired?”

“Not at all!”

His voice rang out like thunder through the small cabin, startling Eliana inside.

“…Shouldn’t they take a break?”

Unable to listen any longer, Eliana walked out holding a tray with two glasses of water. It was her job to protect her “knight,” after all—and it was also a good moment to check Michalis’s synchronization progress.

Dream, image scan.

[Image scan complete.]

Eliana scrolled quickly to the bottom of the pop-up window.

98%? Already? …Maybe it’s time for a little push.

If she could get him to move just a bit more, he might start tapping into the green-haired mage’s memories. And just then, the perfect idea came to her.

“Michal, how about trying this card?”

“What is it? ‘Imperial Strength?’”

Michalis, having just set his empty glass back on the tray, read the activation words on the back of the card aloud—without thinking much of it.

Suddenly, energy surged through his body.

It felt like going from sardine… to tuna.

“This… enhances physical strength?”

“Yes. The effect lasts about an hour, but I thought it might help.”

“It absolutely does.”

Michalis picked up the sword he had set aside earlier. What had once felt heavy now lifted like a fork.

“Sir Joel, done with your water? Then draw your sword. It’s time to spar.”

“Your Grace, have mercy!”

“Hang in there, Sir Joel. We’ve got healing and stamina recovery magic too. (Just don’t die on me.)”

Eliana, who had originally come outside to protect her knight, ended up cheering him on instead.

Clang! Clang!

Soon, the yard echoed with the sharp clash of steel.

“Sir Joel. Are you planning to block forever?”

There’s no opening at all!

“Don’t focus on the blade. Read the whole flow—stop chasing with your eyes, and feel it.”

That’s easy for you to say!

These weren’t beginner tips. What Michalis was asking required real technique—and Joel, barely keeping up, had no room to argue as he fought desperately to stay alive.

“Pause.”

After around thirty minutes of relentless sparring, Michalis suddenly lowered his sword and pressed a hand to his temple.

His synchronization had just hit 100%—and a massive headache crashed over him like a tidal wave.

“Your Grace, are you alright?!”

“Michal!”

Eliana rushed to his side.

“I’m fine. Just… give me a moment.”

Still standing upright, Michalis let the flood of memories wash over him.

He saw Olive’s childhood—wandering the streets… meeting her master… her first encounter with Eliana… and an avalanche of magical knowledge. It all settled into place as if they had always been his memories.

“…This could work.”

It all happened in an instant. The headache faded, and his vision sharpened.

“What do you mean?”

“I might be able to use magic.”

Michalis glanced at the enchanted lamp hanging by the cabin door. He focused on the spell he needed—and the magic circle formed naturally in his mind.

“Light.”

The moment the incantation left his lips, a large orb of pure light floated into the air.

“Your Grace…?”

The light was so bright that Joel squinted as he looked around. He could clearly see the massive vineyard, the winery, the green rows of grapevines stretching far into the distance.

“This year’s wine will be… excellent.”

Eliana’s mouth watered slightly as she eyed the ripe, plump grapes. Her husband… had become a mage.

“There’s still some time before they arrive. Perhaps we should take a short break?”

Joel quickly picked three clusters of grapes and hurried over—grateful for the excuse to escape Michalis’s brutal training.

“A very good idea.”

Michalis agreed, just as he needed a moment to collect and sort through the flood of memories still pouring into him.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

Inside the carriage rattling over rough terrain, illuminated only by the magic lantern, tension hung thick in the air. Most of it was radiating from Olive, whose leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

Once the execution’s done tomorrow, she’ll be completely mine. Even if she figures it out later… so what? She’ll already be my wife in every sense that matters.

Her mind was a mess—spinning between thoughts of the body’s original owner, her master, and, most annoyingly, that damn fox-faced knight who had interrupted her first night.

Ugh. That smug, good-looking bastard…

Every time Olive tried to focus on the duchess and the Sardis magic, his face would reappear, infuriatingly charming.

No more grapes. No more wine. I’ll burn the whole damn vineyard to the ground.

An extremely petty plan from someone who’d never even had a taste for wine.

Meanwhile, seated across from her, Ladis was watching with concern.

His Grace has never behaved this nervously before…

“Your Grace, is something troubling you?”

The constant leg-shaking had finally forced him to ask.

“My wife is out here, alone, at night, with her knight escort. Of course I’m worried.”

“Sir Terius is a trustworthy man.”

He was handpicked by the Duke himself, after all.

“You… never mind.”

Olive shook her head in disbelief. Ladis didn’t suspect a thing.

This man’s brain is as white and fluffy as flour.

How could anyone be this oblivious? A grown man and woman alone in the dark? He didn’t suspect anything might happen? That innocent naivety almost deserved protection.

His Grace is acting very strange tonight… Was the fight with the Tower Master more traumatic than I realized?

Ladis, too, had a storm of questions swirling in his mind.

“Your Grace. We’re almost there. Her Ladyship has likely gone to bed by now—what do you intend to do?”

It was nearing 3 a.m., and Ladis was already worried about disturbing the Duchess’s rest.

“She’s asleep?! With who?!”

That one word—bed—sent Olive’s imagination spiraling.

“Of course she’s sleeping alone.”

Clunk.

As the two men worried about very different things, the carriage came to a stop outside the vineyard.

“Target has arrived.”

“I’ll move to the rear. Sir Joel, make sure to keep Ladis occupied.”

“Yes, Your Grace. I understand.”

“Be careful, Michal.”

“Nothing will go wrong. I promise.”

The carriage door flew open, and Michalis slipped into the night without a trace.

Welcome, green-haired bastard…

Eliana stepped down from the porch and looked toward the approaching Olive with a faint, bitter smile.

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