A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?!

────!!!!

The waves roared.

The protective barrier trembled as if it would shatter at any moment.

“……”

“……”

After the deafening roar that tore at their eardrums, an overwhelming silence fell.

The audience held their breath, watching in anticipation for the result.

Everyone felt it instinctively.

The duel had reached its end.

Whoever remained standing would be the victor.

Two silhouettes moved through the thick smoke rising from the battlefield.
The wind blew and dispersed the mist.

Two knights, covered in wounds, stared at each other.

“Still… not decided?”

“…Incredible.”

“Worth every coin!”

“Let the best one win!”

“Luina Bercheff!”

“Hilde Goetz!”

The audience roared, but the two knights didn’t move.

They simply stared at each other in silence, breathing heavily.

“…Extraordinary.”

Hilde, with his chipped sword in hand, spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Are you really just twenty-three? And still a student at the academy?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“What the hell happened twenty-three years ago for someone like you to be born?”

“I only had one reason I couldn’t lose.”

“A reason…?”

“Someone bet money on me.”

By someone who loved money more than anyone.

“…And for that ridiculous reason, you had to win at all costs?”

Hilde coughed up blood. His sword slipped from his hand.

Through his shattered armor, crimson blood seeped.

“They said our styles weren’t compatible—and they were right.”

“You’re blaming compatibility now?”

“Of course not. I know it’s just an excuse. But…”

Losing to a twenty-three-year-old girl, without even an excuse—that would be truly pitiful.

Hilde didn’t get to finish his sentence.

His knees gave out, and his body collapsed to the ground.

“Th-The winner is Luina Bercheff!”

The medical team rushed onto the field and carried off the fallen knight.

The judge returned to the stage and officially announced the birth of a new Royal Knight.

Uoooaaah!

“Long live Luina Bercheff!”

“Luina! Luina!”

“My money!”

“Damn you, Hilde Goetz! How could you lose to a rookie?!”

Cheers and cries echoed throughout the stadium.

“……”

Luina looked up toward the stands, searching among the nearly one hundred thousand gathered.

‘Where is he…?’

She couldn’t see him anywhere.

Finally, ignoring the throbbing pain in her body, she stepped down from the stage.

In the hallway leading to the waiting room, she ran into the person she had been searching for.

“Drink this.”

“Fernan…”

When had he gotten there?

“I know you’ve got internal injuries. Drink it quickly.”

“Thanks. How did you know?”

Without hesitation, she drank the potion.

The high-grade liquid coursed through her body, instantly easing her discomfort.

“Hilde Goetz’s aura manipulation is among the best even among Royal Knights. Same with his destructive power. I knew that even you wouldn’t come out unscathed.”

Otherwise, Hilde wouldn’t have held that position for so long.

“For now, focus on recovering. Eat well, rest, and let your body heal.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing.”

Luina nodded. Then, a sweet piece of chocolate was gently placed in her mouth.

“Congratulations on becoming a Royal Knight, Luina. I knew you’d make it.”

“……”

Fernan’s unchanging red eyes left her speechless.

Her heart pounded strongly.

Having someone who believed in her like this filled her with emotion.

That he was the first to rush to her side, knowing she’d be hurt, moved her even more.

She nodded with determination.

“Yes.”

Meeting Fernan had been the greatest fortune of her life.

“By the way, how much did you bet on me?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“If you won thanks to me, shouldn’t I get a small commission? As a professional courtesy…”

“…Who taught you to talk like that?”

“Someone named Fernan, last name Pellenberg…”

“Complete slander!”

Fernan protested indignantly.

***

A new Royal Knight had been born.

【Hilde Goetz Falls! A New Royal Knight, Luina Bercheff, Rises!】

【After the Youngest Archmage, Now the Youngest Royal Knight! A Blessing for Humanity!】

【The Rebirth of House Bercheff?】

After the match, the reporters who attended the event published headlines en masse.

It wasn’t just about the birth of a new Royal Knight—but of the youngest in history.

Moreover, she came from an ancient county that had teetered on the brink of ruin and recently risen again.

For the reporters, it was the perfect story.

For a brief moment, even the New Covenant Tournament between Aint Armian and Gransis Vienderk, as well as the crown prince’s duel, were overshadowed.

“It’s Luina Bercheff!”

“The youngest Royal Knight!”

“Let me shake your hand!”

“She’s beautiful! Teach me your sword technique!”

“Luina! Luina!”

Every time she stepped onto the street, crowds swarmed her like bees.

Luina now understood what Aint and Fernan had experienced some time ago.

And it wasn’t just that.

“There are many nobles who want to meet you.”

Becoming a Royal Knight wasn’t just a title of honor.

It meant being among the top ten knights on the continent, with officially recognized skills.

Naturally, the vultures swooped in for crumbs.

“Insolent fools, daring to wag their tongues before the wrong person.”

What they didn’t know was that behind Luina stood a golden pillar of pure wealth supporting her.

“You don’t need to listen to those pests, Luina. Everything will be handled through House Pellenberg.”

“I’m not interested in any of that. Please take care of it.”

“Very well.”

Luina and Fernan sat down.

Around them were Verian, Gismond, and the rest of the group.

That day was the second of the three-day New Covenant Tournament.

It was Aint Armian vs. Gransis Vienderk.

“Who do you think will win?”

“I don’t know. I know Aint is strong, but Gransis Vienderk has held his position as a Royal Knight for years…”

Adolf didn’t dare answer with confidence.

“Aint.”

The Mercenary King then spoke up.

“Aint will win. Hah, after all the training he did with me, there’s no way he’ll lose to some weakling.”

“And you, Lord Garrett?”

“I couldn’t say. I’ve never seen this so-called crown prince fight.”

The Mercenary King growled in disdain.

“But I’ll make sure that arrogant brat learns his place.”

The nearby spectators flinched at the veteran warrior’s fury.

Meanwhile, in the arena, the two fighters faced off, awaiting the referee’s signal.

“Aint Armian.”

Gransis Vienderk slowly unsheathed his sword.

“What a disappointment.”

He clicked his tongue in distaste.

“I’m sure I gave you a good offer that time, didn’t I? Yet you rejected it to make such a foolish decision.”

“I never said I’d accept it.”

“Do you really think you can beat me?”

A mocking smile crossed the duke’s face.

“Hilde’s defeat at Luina Bercheff’s hands was unexpected, I’ll admit. But if you think he and I are the same, you’re mistaken.”

And he was right—anyone who denied the difference would be lying.

Gransis didn’t just have skill—he possessed overwhelming presence.

— This man is more of a monster than I imagined.

The air grew heavy. Aint felt his skin prickle from the pressure radiating off his opponent.

“First Hilde, now me. Challenging Vienderk directly? Is this a declaration of war on Schwaben? How foolish. Schwaben and Vienderk are not eternal allies, boy.”

“I don’t care.”

“What a pathetic excuse. Fine, then let me show you how vast the world truly is.”

The duke advanced with devastating speed. His violet aura tore through the air as if slicing the sky.

Aint raised his sword to intercept.

──!

The two forces collided. A shockwave rippled across the entire arena, shaking the ground and protective walls.

There was no refined technique, no flourishes or feints.

Just pure aura, sharp and concentrated, unleashed with full force.

──!

───!

Dozens of exchanges followed.

And those dozens became hundreds.

Unlike the previous day’s duel, there was no spectacle or elegance. It was simple, brutal, and heavy—like a hammer.

And amidst the deafening roar—

“…You’re strong.”

Duke Gransis staggered back, coughing blood.

Aint didn’t waste the opportunity and dashed forward. His sword arced in a brilliant slash.

Crash!

The duke’s sword flew from his hand. His arm was torn, Aint’s slash cutting cleanly into his side.

Gransis coughed more blood, swaying.

“Fernan Pellenberg was right.”

“…What did you just say?”

“Just thinking out loud.”

The duke took his stance again, crouching low. His aura twisted into fine strands of energy.

“Let’s see if you can endure this.”

If you can, he thought, I’ll acknowledge your victory.

The aura threads extended. They turned into stems, leaves, and flowers.

Hundreds of roses bloomed instantly, covering the arena.

Their stems intertwined, creating a living cage that trapped Aint inside.

Secret Technique of the Vienderk Style: “Prison of Roses.”

The leaves slashed the air. The stems moved like snakes, and thorns grew from all directions to tear him apart.

— Aint!

The young man took a deep breath.

His aura core, exhausted from the long battle, exploded outward with his remaining strength.

Secret Technique of the Armian Style: “Flight of the Sacred Bird.”

Whoooosh!

His aura surged. The Saint Bird spread its wings and tore through the rose prison, soaring skyward.

Duke Gransis fell.

Aint’s sword hovered centimeters from his face.

“What you said earlier… what was it? Why did you mention Senior Fernan?”

Even under Aint’s cold gaze, the duke didn’t meet his eyes.

“What are you standing there for? Announce the winner already.”

At his remark, the still-stunned judge raised his arm toward Aint.

“The winner is… Aint Armian!”

A new Royal Knight had been born.

UOOOOOOAAAH!

“Duke Gransis has fallen!”

“Aint Armian has won!”

“Armian! Armian!”

Cheers and cries shook the arena, but Aint didn’t smile.

“Huh? Wait, why that face…?”

— Raise your hand and wave, Aint.

— No matter how you feel, from the outside it looks like you won after a brutal battle.

— If the winner looks grim, what will people think?

‘But he didn’t use his full strength.’

Aint bit his lip and waved to the crowd.

***

“…So it’s decided.”

Fernan, arms crossed, watched the result from his seat.

Aint had won.

Duke Gransis had fallen.

And Schwaben now faced the outcome it least wanted—Aint Armian, newly crowned Royal Knight.

A barely perceptible smile curved Fernan’s lips. He looked down, satisfied.

“Luina, what did you think of that duel?”

“It was very close, but in the end Aint came out on top.”

“That’s what I saw too. So it wasn’t a deliberate loss.”

“However…”

“However?”

“I had the feeling neither of them used their full strength.”

Luina tilted her head, uncertain.

“I met Duke Gransis yesterday.”

‘If you want, I can let you win. And I’ll make it look convincing.’

That encounter had been as sudden as it was unexpected.