The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 10

Heat radiated from the arena. The sound of clashing blades echoed all the way to the spectator stands, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. As if propelled by the sudden roar of the audience, the match grew increasingly intense.

For an exhibition match organized on such short notice, the turnout was staggering. It was a stinging realization of just how significant a weight his impulsive engagement carried.

Standing in the center of the ring, Quill bowed toward the stands alongside Marius. Directly ahead, Crown Prince Leonard and Crown Princess Juliana offered a light wave.

Lynette was seated next to Juliana.

He had only just learned from Lynette’s earlier words that it was the Crown Princess who had backed this engagement. A fact Leonard had neglected to mention.

The Saint and the Crown Princess; he was surprised they shared such a connection, but seeing their seating arrangement made it clear. Lynette was in a position that allowed her to sit beside the royal family.

At a sign from Geis, acting as the referee, Quill faced Marius.

Both carried identical equipment: training swords made of modified materials with blunted edges. This was to be a battle of pure swordsmanship, with magic forbidden. The match would end the moment the referee judged an unavoidable strike had been landed.

Marius’s confident smirk was slightly grating. It was always the same; the man looked down on Quill as a vastly inferior being. Considering he had never lost a match against Quill, it was, in a sense, only natural.

The White Knights had insisted on a public opening specifically for this fight. They wanted to force Quill to his knees and demonstrate to the world that he was unworthy of being the Saint’s fiancé.

Marius likely never dreamed that Quill had been pulling his punches all these years. Quill had always been careful to play his part well enough to avoid suspicion.

“Begin!”

At Geis’s shout, a highly motivated Marius lunged forward. A straightforward slash from the right—Marius’s standard opening move.

The thing about Marius was that he only ever used two distinct combat patterns against Quill. Quill usually parried in a way that encouraged him to stick to those patterns.

Quill blocked the first two strikes properly and swapped positions. On the third move, Marius leaned in with his weight, and Quill struck back with force. As usual, the fourth move should have involved Marius backing off to gain distance before leaping back in or so it should have been.

The moment Quill struck back, a sharp gust of wind grazed his right cheek.

A dull, stinging pain flickered across his skin. A few strands of black hair fluttered to the ground.

“…Sir Claussen. What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, my apologies. Knowing the Saint is watching, I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me.”

Wind magic—Marius’s specialty. Generally speaking, the White Knights were less proficient in magic than the Black Knights, but the true value of wind magic lay in utility, not direct attack. Black Knight Commander Geis was a prime example.

Geis never stood at the front lines; in a chaotic melee, even his allies would lose sight of him. A true wind magic user fought from a position where the enemy couldn’t detect them, using the wind to provide physical support or amplify the power of spells.

To see Marius looking so proud of himself after merely managing a tiny scratch on a cheek by disregarding those principles. The “here we go again” looks on the faces of the Black Knights watching from the sidelines said it all.

“My apologies. I’ll allow you a free hit as compensation.”

A cheap provocation.

Quill didn’t even feel like taking the bait. He shifted his gaze to the stands. Lynette caught his eye, lightly touched her own cheek, and raised her right hand. She had accurately identified Marius’s foul.

But that was all. She didn’t whisper anything to Juliana beside her; she simply sat with her back straight, watching Quill intently.

Juliana was used to this environment, but this was likely Lynette’s first time in an arena. For an average noble lady, the sheer heat and noise of the place would be enough to make her shrink back.

Even though he knew her emotions were gone…

Because of her words earlier, he found himself misinterpreting her dignified posture as a sign of trust in him.

Even if it was a misunderstanding, he would keep his promise to answer her encouragement.

Quill smiled and lowered his sword. Marius raised an eyebrow. Facing him, Quill turned his left palm upward and curled four fingers toward himself in a beckoning gesture.

Come on.

He met provocation with provocation.

“You…! Why, you—!”

Marius’s rage flared. He raised his sword and charged.

Quill lightly shifted his body and dodged. Then, he struck the side of Marius’s blade.

The White Knights, composed of sons of high nobility, primarily served as guardians for the aristocracy because they were more accustomed to social settings than the Black Knights. Marius was valued as a captain not just for his skill, but because his status as a Marquis’s heir was useful. In infiltration missions at evening balls, the White Knights excelled; they could blend in perfectly.

It was the same reason they served as the Saint’s guard.

Magical beasts never attacked the Saint. What the guard was actually required for was attending the various ceremonies the Saint was invited to during her pilgrimage.

Their battlefields were simply different.

Quill had never thought the White Knights were inferior to the Black Knights.

However, he did not accept the current reality where the Black Knights were looked down upon by the White Knights.

From the time the previous Saint passed until the next was chosen was roughly sixteen years. Add two more years for the purification pilgrimage, and you had an eighteen-year “gap in protection.” During that period, the Black Knights stood at the front lines against the magical beasts.

Quill became an apprentice at twelve and a knight at fifteen. Having served for nearly ten years, he had spent more than half of that “gap” as a knight.

In terms of pure combat technique, he had never once felt inferior to this man.

Marius, relying entirely on brute force, lost his balance and stumbled.

“Damn it… how dare a red-eye look down on me!”

“There it is.”

“What!?”

Marius swung with a direct overhead strike. This time, Quill didn’t dodge; he caught it. He braced his legs and pushed back with pure strength.

In the split second their blades separated, he flicked his wrist.

With a diagonal upward slash, he sent Marius’s sword flying.

The blade spun through the air and landed outside the ring.

As Marius hit the ground hard on his backside, Quill leveled the tip of his sword at the man’s throat. Amidst the roaring cheers of the arena, he spoke quietly.

“Lady Ceryes does not care for those words of yours. You would do well to remember that.”