Chapter 37
Victor's skills were terrifying.
He was naturally fast and agile, and easily memorized any movements he saw.
Even a thick tree could be cut down with a single blow, as if its weak points were clearly visible to him.
Before long, he easily defeated all of the Morty apprentice knights, and even the official knights had trouble.
A number of famous young mercenaries came to visit, but none of them were on equal terms with Victor.
Victor Morte was a genius.
No one competed with him.
While people were talking about how the ruler gave him his talent, or a deal with the devil, Victor became depressed.
He was sensitive, so he was painfully aware of the atmosphere around him.
People reluctantly praised Victor.
They praised him out of awe or fear, but they never showed kindness or affection towards the young knight.
He was naturally worried.
“What if others did this too? Like my father? Or Morthion?”
“What if my brother hates me?”
While he was deep in thought, Mortheon visited his room.
“Victor.”
His older brother, who was always busy, was dressed lightly.
He smiled sweetly at his younger brother.
"Let's go to the training field."
Victor didn't want to, but he couldn't hold back and nodded.
Before he knew it, Victor was facing Morthion with a wooden sword in the empty training ground.
His older brother smiled at him.
“You are strong, so I will not go easy on you.”
Then he received him with Persian courtesy.
Victor bowed his head in confusion.
In the next moment, Morthion closed the gap.
Mortheon was Morte's successor.
He will become the master of the most famous knights in the empire. Of course, he was very strong. Victor fought with all his might for a long time.
Their swords collided several times, and their feet kicked up dirt.
In the end, Victor, who could not handle Morthion's final blow, dropped his sword.
When he saw his wooden sword lying on the ground, Victor felt relieved for some reason.
Mortheon approached and stroked his head affectionately.
“Are you disappointed that you lost?”
"no".
Morthion laughed.
“You will have come a long way to defeat this big brother!”
Victor muttered gloomily.
“I was not disappointed.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t be sad, okay? Your talent is great so there’s no need to hide it or be upset.”
Morthion spoke seriously.
“You're a great kid, so if you showcase your talents honestly, everyone will love you. Brag to your heart's content and one day, when you're the best knight on the continent...”
Morthion smiled softly.
"Please become a knight leader."
Victor stared at Mortheon silently.
The brown eyes that looked at him were determined.
Even though he was only 20 years old, his elder brother was ready to carry on the name of the people, the knights, and the family.
Morthion was saying that he would reserve a place for Victor by his side. The position of an honorable knight who can protect his brother and country.
Victor's heart was beating out of his chest as he nodded.
“Yes, I will. I will become the leader of the knights, brother.”
Mortheon smiled and felt his little brother.
Victor exhaled and smiled widely.
***
From that day on, Victor was dedicated to his swordsmanship training, without hiding it.
He swung his sword to his heart's content every day, not paying attention to the knights or vassals.
He was already at a level that apprentice knights could not compete with, so he openly asked the senior knights for matches.
Then strangely, the sense of distance they felt towards Victor disappeared. The knights willingly came to him and taught him, and even learned from him.
“As a swordsman, I am curious what level the young master will reach.”
One of the knights who helped him said such a thing.
He didn't know exactly what that meant, but he felt good regardless.
Because, as his older brother promised, he had to become the best knight on the continent.
One day, while he was in the midst of training, he met Leonard Udo and Charles Denion.
“Met them? In fact, it was too embarrassing to describe our meeting as a meeting.”
Because they were secretly hiding in Victor's private training ground.
To be precise, Leonard was forcefully stopping Karls, who was trying to escape.
“I can’t. The young duke is training here.”…
“And? It’s so big, does he use it himself? Is there a separate training ground?”
As far as Victor knew, this training ground was “his.” He came forward to claim his right.
The two felt a presence, recognized Victor and stood up.
The blond boy knelt down perfectly, greeting him very seriously.
“I welcome my lord, young Duke of Morte. I am Leonard of Odo.”
Victor crossed his arms not knowing how to react.
First of all, he didn't know who they were. He mostly trained with senior knights, and had only encountered apprentice knights. He stiffened for a moment as the blond boy gave him a very polite greeting. No one else had.
“Why didn't the other man say hello?”
When he turned his gaze to the other boy, the red-haired boy who was wiping the dirt off his clothes bowed his head.
“Hello, I am Carles Denion.”
“It's different.”
Victor honestly thought about it.
***
The two were, surprisingly, apprentice knights and not apprentices.
Considering that Leonard was two years older than Victor and Carls was the same age, they had become apprentice knights at a fairly young age.
Naturally, they were the youngest, and they said that they couldn't find a place to train freely without others noticing.
Victor was, quite frankly, intrigued, so he generously agreed to share his training ground.
But he soon regretted it. The two's voices were louder than expected.
“So I almost died. Who knew it was a salamander?!”
“Are you really going to die from touching a salamander? The worst it could do is bite off your fingers.”
Do you know how hot salamanders are? Little Duke, what do you think? Have you ever touched a salamander? "
«No. "Shut up and practice."
Victor swung his wooden sword in annoyance.
Immediately, Leonard pointed out Karls' rude behavior.
“Your speaking habit does not seem to have improved, even after several months.”
“What? And you think you speak in such a beautiful way? "
The two ignored Victor and started fighting.
Charles was the third son of Count Dignon, High Lord of the Southern Province.
He said that while reading an adventure novel, he dreamed of becoming a knight. So, he came to Morte, looking for the famous knight group.
In contrast to his light-hearted demeanor, he was very talented and took his training seriously, but he suffered from a fatal "disease" that prevented him from speaking formally. This was because he grew up spoiled.
On the other hand, Leonard was the second son of Viscount Odo, who had served Morte for generations. He said he had been training for sparring since he was young, younger than Victor. He grew up in a strict family, and attached great importance to courtesy, unlike Karls.
But to Victor, the two were the same.
They were both loud.
Victor shook his head and continued swinging his sword. His wooden sword cut where he needed to without a single deviation.
When his smooth movements were over, he heard applause from behind Victor turned his head. Carls gushed, unable to hide his admiration.
“I feel this every time I see you, Little Duke. How can you be so powerful? I have never seen a swordsman like you.”
"Morthion is stronger than me."
“Lord Mortheon is much older than you! Competing with him on equal terms is important.”
Victor didn't answer.
He felt strange.
Leonard and Carls were impressed by his skills.
Not cautious or hesitant, just proud of a talented friend like whom there were no others except Morthion.
Carls laughed.
“You will be a great knight. I will be your right-hand man Victor Morte, the great knight general, and Charles Denion, his lieutenant general.”
“Why can you be his right hand? I also want to be his right hand.”
Leonard took everything seriously. He was so serious that it was hard to tell if he was joking or not. He confirmed again to Victor.
“I would like to be your right hand too.”
“Can you stop talking respectfully? It's embarrassing because you're always so formal.”
“It is wrong to speak informally to the young Duke.”
The two growled at each other again.
Victor was tired of their constant bickering, so he spoke up.
“I don't really care.”
“Look! He doesn't care.”
Carls exclaimed triumphantly. Leonard shot him a glare before turning to Victor very seriously.
He answered with great determination.
“I see...I'll try.”
Victor laughed.
***
• End of chapter •
To be continued •••
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