A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles

Not only were the heads of each family stunned by the deafening cheers.

In fact, those who felt the most pressure from the uproar were the knights planning to challenge Felicia.

Until now, to them, Felicia had been nothing more than a newcomer—the disciple and adopted daughter of the Swordmaster.

A woman who had never shown her true skill in front of others and who, relying solely on her relationship with the Swordmaster, had proclaimed herself the next Swordmaster.

That was how they had always seen her.

But then, what was that nearly worshipful roar?

While the challengers hesitated at such an unexpected reaction—

Clang!

“…!”

A shockwave rang through the entire arena and instantly swallowed the cheers. Startled by the sudden phenomenon, the crowd fell silent in unison.

A moment later, the challengers realized that the source of the vibration was Felicia—and they were horrified.

‘She caused that just by striking the scabbard against the ground?’

Had she shattered a wall with a single blow, it wouldn’t have been as shocking.

With an absurd amount of mana, anyone could increase their destructive power.

But to cause a vibration with no destructive force—barely enough to shake the body slightly—to propagate that far?

That was a technique impossible to achieve unless one’s control over mana approached a divine level.

At the center of the now silent arena, Felicia opened her mouth.

“My name is Felicia Brightner. Daughter of Eisen Brightner, the previous Swordmaster, and the Swordmaster of this era.”

The challengers felt a lump in their throats at that arrogant declaration.

No one had acknowledged her as Swordmaster yet, and still she proclaimed herself the Swordmaster of her time.

The word “presumptuous” was about to slip out—but it didn’t.

No matter how much they tried to say something, the words wouldn’t come, as if their bodies themselves acknowledged she had the right to say it.

“Come.”

Felicia gave a slight beckoning gesture with her finger, as if no further words were needed.

At that attitude—without a shred of doubt that she was the Swordmaster—one of the challengers gritted his teeth and shouted.

“Aserad Tolgrim, of House Tolgrim, requests a duel with Lady Felicia!”

The challenge order had already been announced beforehand, but at that moment, it no longer mattered.

Those who were supposed to challenge before Aserad were completely paralyzed by Felicia’s presence.

Before they could all be crushed by one person alone, Aserad chose to step forward himself.

“…”

Felicia watched him silently.

Her gaze seemed to say, “You’ve said your name, now attack. Why are you still standing there?”

Aserad jumped into the arena and drew his sword.

“Draw yours too!”

“I already have.”

“What nonse—?!”

Aserad stopped dead.

Felicia truly already had her sword drawn.

Seeing the blade shining with the characteristic gleam of fae metal, Aserad swallowed hard.

‘When did she draw it…?’

Up until the moment Aserad jumped into the arena, the sword had been sheathed.

After that, he hadn’t seen the slightest movement—not even a twitch of her arm.

‘…Don’t be fooled. It’s just a cheap trick.’

Quick drawing wasn’t proof of great swordsmanship. If he didn’t let himself be intimidated and observed carefully, he was sure he’d find an opening.

Aserad forced himself to think that and suppressed his hesitation.

The problem was, no matter how much he looked, he couldn’t see any opening.

Any attack he imagined ended up being blocked, inevitably followed by a counterattack.

‘Damn it… this feels like when I was facing my childhood sword instructor. Openings? What openings? Should I just go first?’

“…”

Felicia, sword in hand, quietly observed the stiff Aserad. She seemed to be waiting for the challenger to make a move.

But as time passed and Aserad showed no intention of striking, Felicia let out a sigh.

“That’s enough. Step down.”

“What?”

“It’s over.”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? I haven’t even swung my sword once!”

“I have.”

“…?”

“Touch your neck.”

Aserad frowned and brought a hand to his neck.

Immediately, he shuddered at the sensation of warmth.

When he pulled his hand back, he saw red blood sliding between his fingers.

‘When?!’

Aserad’s eyes widened in horror.

The neck was one of the most critical vital points. A slight cut could sever an artery, making it almost impossible to gauge the force used.

And yet, from that distance, with an invisible slash, she had cut only the skin of the neck.

It was more absurd than striking a finger with a hammer and breaking only the tip of the nail.

“Step down. Your trial is over.”

At Felicia’s irrefutable words, Aserad bowed his head deeply.

With the anticlimactic end of the first challenger, the others clenched their hands—damp with sweat from the tension.

Depending on their level, each saw something different—but all shared one impression.

‘There are no openings.’

If they could at least see the smallest gap, they might attempt something. But not even that.

If this continued, they too would be shamefully defeated and thrown out of the arena.

But once the battle began, there would be no time to look for openings.

“Next.”

Felicia’s calm voice echoed, and the challengers squeezed their eyes shut.

***

“Step down.”

The seventh challenger stepped down from the arena with his shoulders completely slumped.

Even after switching challengers seven times, there had been no notable change.

All of them, just like Aserad—the first challenger—did nothing but drag out the time and end up with a light cut on the neck before retreating.

For the nobles watching, it was a frustrating spectacle.

If they had already drawn their swords, why not swing them already? What were they even doing?

Especially the heads of the families to which the challengers belonged were going from frustration to shame.

‘How could such humiliation exist?! With all these people watching, doing something this pathetic…!’

‘You should’ve never challenged her! You walked up so confidently, and now you make a fool of yourself.’

‘I was the idiot for trusting you. Just wait until you return to the family.’

The family heads ground their teeth in embarrassment, but the challengers also had their own thoughts.

If there were no openings, how were they supposed to swing their swords?

Blindly attacking would only make the scene more pathetic than standing still and losing.

Precisely because they had the minimum skill to understand the difference between themselves and their opponent, they could choose not to move.

Of course, the family heads, who had never faced Felicia directly, had no way of understanding those feelings.

It was then that the eighth challenger entered the arena.

“Biserk Elster, of House Elster, requests a duel with Lady Felicia.”

“…Oh.”

At the sight of the challenger, Felicia let out a small exclamation and shifted her stance.

Upon seeing that movement—which was the first time she had changed posture—the audience stirred in surprise.

“The king’s great warrior took a stance…!”

“She didn’t even do that when facing all the other knights!”

“Is this knight going to show something different?”

All eyes focused on the challenger.

However, against all expectations, this time too, he hesitated and failed to act decisively.

Just like before, after some time had passed, Felicia moved her sword.

Clang!

“Ugh!”

A groan escaped from Biserk’s mouth. Feeling the numbing impact in his hand, he stepped back and saw the broken blade of his sword flying off into the distance.

Though the process had been slightly different, the result was the same as the previous challengers.

“Step down.”

“…Before that, allow me to ask something.”

“What?”

“Why did you break only my sword?”

Biserk was confused.

A sword was the symbol of a knight. Deliberately targeting and breaking only the weapon could be seen as humiliation.

“Was it an important sword?”

“No. I was just wondering what meaning it held.”

“It doesn’t hold any special meaning. I simply thought I couldn’t aim at your neck, so I aimed for your sword instead.”

“What?”

“If I aimed at your neck and you dodged in an odd direction, things could get serious.”

“…!”

Aiming only at the surface skin of the neck was a technique that, with the slightest error, could kill the opponent.

In other words, it was only possible when the skill gap was overwhelming.

Put differently, against an opponent with some level of competence, it was an extremely risky move.

If the enemy dodged perfectly, it was fine. But if they dodged awkwardly and the blade sank deeper, it could result in certain death.

That meant Felicia had recognized Biserk as someone of “intermediate” ability.

‘Even so, doesn’t that mean I’m a bit better than the others?’

It was an assessment some might find humiliating, but Biserk felt genuine joy.

Felicia’s attacks had been so fast that the others hadn’t even been able to react.

But with him, she had changed her method of attack because she believed he might respond.

To be acknowledged by the Swordmaster of this era—how could he not be happy?

Suppressing the smile that threatened to form on his face, Biserk bowed his head to Felicia.

“Thank you for the explanation.”

After saying that and stepping down from the arena, Biserk suddenly felt numerous stares on him.

Turning around, he saw in the eyes of the other challengers a mix of envy and jealousy.

Those who had already challenged envied the higher evaluation he received.

Those who had yet to challenge feared they wouldn’t even reach that level of recognition.

Unwittingly, Biserk had become the line separating the mediocre from those with at least minimal skill.

Walking through the challengers with an inexplicable sense of pride, Biserk suddenly stopped as he realized something.

‘…Wait a second. Recognition from the Swordmaster? Did I just think that I’d been acknowledged by the Swordmaster?’

Thinking it through, it felt strange.

This match existed precisely to determine the next Swordmaster. Just a few minutes ago, he himself had been filled with ambition to defeat her and take that title.

And yet, not even ten challengers in, he and the others were already recognizing her as the Swordmaster of this era.

Realizing how his perception had shifted without him noticing, Biserk let out a bitter smile.

‘I’m starting to understand, even just a little, what it means to be a Swordmaster.’

To become a Swordmaster, you don’t need anyone’s acknowledgment.

You only need to make it impossible for anyone to deny that you are.

Finally grasping the weight of that title, Biserk looked at Felicia and muttered.

“She’s too far out of my reach.”

***

“Wow… I thought he’d finally show something decent.”

“I have no idea what any of this is supposed to be.”

When even Biserk failed to put on a noteworthy performance, the family heads let out sighs of disappointment.

At this rate, not only the title of Swordmaster but the entire pride of the north would become a joke.

At least one of them should charge in with the resolve to die, shouldn’t they?

“I’m worried the foreigners who came to pay their respects will look down on the north.”

“Sometimes you need to charge in even knowing you’re not good enough.”

“Young people these days…”

Lucian gave a faint smile at the clicking tongues of the family heads.

If they themselves stood before Felicia, they wouldn’t be any different. They were only talking because they had mouths.

‘Well, even if everyone is defeated in one blow, it wouldn’t be so bad to have one or two people with enough skill to cross swords with Felicia.’

No matter how impressive her strength was, if people didn’t have the ability to perceive it, it was meaningless.

At the very least, they needed someone who could provide a visually compelling match.

While Lucian was searching among the challengers for someone like that—

“Your Highness. It’s serious. You must come at once.”

Raymond approached silently, soaked in cold sweat, and grabbed Lucian.

His hands were so damp it was as if he had pulled them from a bucket of water.

“What is it? Don’t tell me the enemy attacked?”

“It’s worse than that. The First Prince is currently in the White Castle prison.”

“What?”

At news that far exceeded any expectation, Lucian blinked in astonishment.