It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 80

If that was the case, Ryuhan felt he had every right to be proud.
After all, his opponent today was the Tower Master.

Yesterday, he had been caught off guard by techniques he had never seen before and couldn’t fight back properly.
But when it came to an actual fight to bringing an opponent down, he was confident he could win.

‘Casting barriers and real combat are two different things!
I’ve gained plenty of real battle experience challenging Chunryeo.’

Of course, in reality, Ryuhan had barely managed to exchange a few blows with Chunryeo before being thrown off Mount Chunhwa again and again.
But that wasn’t how he saw it.

In his mind, spell arts (법술) were naturally superior to magic, and it was only right that he would win.

Suddenly, he remembered something Chunryeo had once said to him, almost as if offering advice.

“If Your Highness does not abandon your arrogance, you will never achieve anything beyond the talent you were born with.”

The memory twisted Ryuhan’s face in anger.
He had been so furious that he gave up climbing Mount Chunhwa altogether and never sought Chunryeo out again.

‘Arrogant? Me?
You’ll bow before me one day, Chunryeo.’

His plan was simple: first, defeat the Tower Master, who held the highest reputation among mages.
Then, absorb the essence of magic into spell arts — creating an even stronger form of spellcraft.
And finally, using that new power, defeat Chunryeo once and for all.

Just imagining Chunryeo kneeling before him brought a thrill to Ryuhan’s heart.
Right now, it felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Passing through the North Gate on horseback, Ryuhan arrived at the open wasteland chosen for the duel.
He dismounted, and his attendants immediately led his horse away, keeping a respectful distance.
Only one servant ,  the one who had accompanied him from Lushan , remained by his side.

“What time is it?” Ryuhan asked.

The servant pulled out a pocket watch, a fine import from the Ladenbach Empire.

“It’s one minute to four, Your Highness.”

“How dare he make royalty wait,” Ryuhan muttered, scowling at the North Gate.

Normally, the North Gate wasn’t very crowded, but today was different.
Word of the duel between a prince from across the sea and the Tower Master had spread fast, and now crowds of commoners had gathered to watch.

The city guards, following Crown Prince Oscar’s orders, had drawn white chalk lines on the ground to keep the people back and prevent accidents.

“Oh! Look! He’s coming!” someone shouted.

Through the already-open gate, a man appeared — walking calmly toward the field.
He had pale silver-blue hair, a strikingly handsome face, and a tall, commanding figure.

Admiring murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Hearing them, Ryuhan’s mood darkened.

“Am I not better-looking than him?” Ryuhan snapped, turning toward his servant.

The servant responded immediately, as if it had been rehearsed.

“Of course, Your Highness is a hundred — no, a thousand times more handsome!”

Normally, this answer would have been enough.
But today, for some reason, it only irritated Ryuhan more.

Even from a distance, it felt like the Tower Master looked better.
Why was that?

Then it hit him —
When Ryuhan himself had ridden out through the North Gate earlier, there had been far fewer gasps of admiration.

‘Damn it! This doesn’t mean I’ve lost!’

On the City Wall.

Where the Imperial family was seated, a canopy had been set up, along with comfortable chairs.
Using her opera glasses, the Empress watched the Prince of Lushan and frowned slightly.

“Strange. Why does he already look defeated, even before the duel has begun?”

“Let me see,” the Emperor said, taking the opera glasses from her.
After a moment, he chuckled.

“You’re right. It’s as if he’s already lost his nerve.”

Charlize, seated beside them, was quietly watching the North Gate.
Achilles had just stepped out.

‘I hope nothing goes wrong,’ she thought.

Aisha, standing by her side, leaned in and whispered reassuringly,

“Please don’t worry, Your Highness.
Even though he’s known as a powerful spellcaster, among the eastern spellcasters, Ryuhan is actually seen as a nuisance.”

“Why is that?” Charlize asked softly.

“Because he’s the Emperor’s favorite.
If you injure him, you risk the Emperor’s wrath.
And if you beat him… he’ll cling to you, chasing you down for a rematch over and over again.”

“Hah… what a troublesome man,” the Emperor muttered under his breath, overhearing them.

Although Ryuhan was treated with respect here as a foreign prince, no one would protect him the way the Lushan Emperor would.
The Emperor quietly reminded himself to be cautious — political tensions could rise easily.

‘Surely, he won’t pull that kind of nonsense against Achilles…
But knowing Achilles’s personality, if Ryuhan keeps pestering him, Achilles might actually kill him.’

Especially since Achilles cared deeply for Charlize.
He would hold back for her sake — but if Ryuhan pushed too far, he wouldn’t hesitate.

‘Once this duel is over, I’ll have to separate them immediately.’

Meanwhile, down on the wasteland, Ryuhan, already losing his composure, raised his voice.

“Your insolent fool!
How dare you arrive later than royalty!
Do you think you’re some kind of Emperor?”

Ryuhan pointed furiously at Achilles as he shouted.

Achilles, calm and unfazed, simply replied,

“The Emperor is seated up there, on the wall.”

“I wasn’t asking about the Emperor’s location!!”

There were no spectators close by, as both men had come a good distance away from the city walls for the duel.
Believing only his servant could hear, Ryuhan finally dropped the mask and revealed his true nature.

“A stubborn, thick-headed fool like you is supposed to be the Tower Master? I can see now just how low the Tower’s standards are.”

“I won’t let your behavior lower the value of spell arts,” Achilles replied calmly.

“…….”

Ryuhan’s face turned as red as a volcano about to erupt.
His furious roar was so loud it could be heard even from the city walls.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!!”

Thanks to growing up in privilege and eating only the best, Ryuhan had a voice strong enough to boom across the wasteland.
From atop the wall, Oscar watched him with a bored expression.

“…What did he say to make him yell like that? The Tower Master usually isn’t the talkative type,” Oscar muttered.

‘That’s not true. Achilles talks a lot,’ Charlize thought to herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.
Instead, she quietly observed the scene through her opera glasses.

Achilles, as usual, looked completely composed.
It was Ryuhan who was losing control, bouncing around furiously.

“Are they just arguing?” one noble muttered.

“I thought they were supposed to be mages. When are they actually going to fight?” another grumbled.

“The silver-haired one is the Tower Master. The other, dressed in foreign clothes, is a spellcaster,” someone explained.

“What’s spell arts?” another asked.

As the restless murmuring spread among the commoners gathered near the North Gate, a young boy suddenly shouted, “Look!”

Unable to contain his anger any longer, Ryuhan was preparing to use spell arts.

Ordinary citizens, who rarely had the chance to witness spellcasting — or even magic — widened their eyes and stared.

As Ryuhan summoned his power, five spell circles floated into the air around him.
From within them, a warrior clad in golden lightning, carrying a spear, emerged.

At the same time, Achilles began to release his mana, a black mist spreading like a quiet fog at his feet.

“Ooooh, it’s starting!” the crowd cheered.

“Go, Tower Master!”

Most of the people had naturally taken the Tower Master’s side, celebrating the hero who had brought honor to their Empire.

Despite the cheers, Achilles looked indifferent.

‘No point dragging this out. I’ll finish this in under five minutes.’

Ryuhan shouted triumphantly, “Darkness will never defeat light! Go, my war god!”

But the golden warrior barely managed five steps forward before disappearing — as if the ground itself had swallowed him.

“What?!”

The warrior’s form flickered briefly in the black mist, struggling to resist, but then vanished completely with a sound like shattering glass.
The spell circles around Ryuhan broke one by one.

Realizing that all the spell arts he had proudly summoned were being completely dismantled, Ryuhan panicked.

“Argh!”

The black mist crept toward him, reaching his feet — and from it, hands formed out of the mist, climbing up his legs, gripping him tightly.

Ryuhan screamed and thrashed wildly.
Desperate, he blasted light from his body, managing to shake off the misty hands — but only for a moment.

Within seconds, dozens more hands formed, wrapping around his legs and pulling themselves upward.

“W-What is this?! This is sorcery, not magic! Darkness can’t defeat light!”

“Elemental advantages don’t matter when the power gap is overwhelming,” Achilles said coldly.
“To think you dare claim to represent spellcasters when you don’t even understand the basics… how pathetic.”

Standing tall, without the slightest change in his expression, Achilles reminded Ryuhan for a moment of Chunryeo — the greatest spellcaster from the Eastern Continent.

“Grr!
My spell arts don’t end here!
This isn’t over! Don’t you dare underestimate spell arts!” Ryuhan screamed.

“I already know you’re not qualified to represent them,” Achilles replied.

There was no need to waste any more time.
With a slight wave of his hand, the misty hands that had grabbed Ryuhan yanked him downward.

Just as the five summoned warriors had been crushed, Ryuhan too was swallowed by the black mist with a loud cry, vanishing completely.

“Your Highness!!”

“How dare you! What are you doing to the Prince, Tower Master?! Are you out of your mind?!” Ryuhan’s attendants screamed in horror.

They rushed toward the spot where Ryuhan had been standing.
Without even glancing at them, Achilles snapped his fingers lightly — and the mist cleared at once.

The black fog that had risen almost to the knees disappeared instantly, revealing Ryuhan lying face down on the dirt, unconscious.

Though he was sprawled out on the dusty ground, Ryuhan hadn’t suffered a single injury.
His servant, who reached him first, knelt down and quickly fanned his face.

“Your Highness! Please, wake up!”

‘Fortunately, he’s just lost consciousness.’

The imperial envoy, who was watching anxiously, checked Ryuhan’s condition and sighed in relief.
When he looked up again, he saw the Tower Master already walking away, having completely lost interest.

Achilles, without sparing even a glance, turned his back and headed toward the North Gate.

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