The clash of swords turned into an intense light show.
Alfred’s sword, Galatine, glowed with a power as if it sought to obliterate Norman. As the two swords collided, they continued at a speed beyond human perception.
With every movement Norman made, purple energy burst from his sword, sending out energy slashes that destroyed the surroundings. His cold eyes glimmered with indifference and ruthlessness.
In response, Alfred’s legendary Sun Magic revolved around him, forming a protective layer. Thanks to this, the Duke evaded every attack.
When Galatine, with a swift turn, slashed forward intending to cut Norman’s shoulder, Norman swiftly twisted his sword, blocking Galatine.
Seeing an opening in Duke Alfred’s defense, Norman lunged forward with a merciless gleam. He raised his sword to his right shoulder, lifting the hilt to shoulder height and angling the blade toward Alfred’s shoulder.
With a quick thrust, he aimed to pierce the Duke’s shoulder.
"Good try," Alfred said calmly, his eyes tracking Norman’s blade, "but it won’t work!"
Suddenly, a pillar of fire erupted from the ground like the fierce flame of the sun, searing Norman’s armor and making him grimace.
Yet Norman didn’t stop; he quickly lunged forward, releasing a purple mana beam from his sword. Alfred’s yellow barrier flared up, blocking the attack.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
As the swords clashed, the metallic sound resonated with a loud hum. The two knights ruthlessly tried to cut each other down, with Norman pressing forward mercilessly.
His strikes were not graceful for a knight but were powerful. In contrast, Duke Alfred displayed more finesse. He parried Norman’s relentless blows with skilled agility.
When Norman noticed the Duke’s sword approaching, he quickly sidestepped and swung his sword horizontally. Despite the incoming attack toward his stomach, the Duke stood motionless. Then, in an instant, his sword was engulfed in the flames of the sun and struck Norman’s shoulder.
As Norman’s sword cut Alfred’s abdomen, Galatine left a gaping wound on Norman’s shoulder, but Norman seemed to feel no pain.
Both Alfred and Norman stepped back, gazing at each other with respect. Although enemies, they acknowledged the other’s skill.
The Duke calmly examined his wound, narrowing his eyes slightly. As the wound began to heal slowly, curiosity flickered in Norman’s eyes.
"The legendary regeneration ability of the Thornvile lineage..."
For a brief moment, admiration shone in Norman’s eyes. While many tales, both good and bad, existed about Gawain, one of his greatest stories was his ability to heal under the sun.
"Today, we are stronger and better than even those who see themselves as heirs of King Arthur, Norman." The Duke’s eyes shone with calm. As Norman’s mana surged, the Duke coldly continued, "Now, what must be done will be done."
"Destroying the king and the kingdom without mercy?" Norman asked in a conflicted tone. Alfred sighed, lowering his gaze to the ground. "This kingdom was already doomed to collapse. Arrogant and indifferent nobles, ignorant people, fanatical clergy..."
As Alfred plunged Galatine into the ground, the sun behind him seemed to shine brighter. A gentle light radiated from him, making him appear almost like a holy saint.
This was the power of Gawain’s lineage. Unlike the royal bloodline, the Thornvile house descended from an honorable and powerful knight. Rather than inheriting less than 10% of King Arthur’s strength, the Thornvile lineage lived up to its name as an elite.
"I thought you were a reasonable man, Alfred," Norman said, closing his eyes as his mana churned, his aura seeming to shift.
The Duke remained cold-blooded, gazing calmly at Norman. "I don’t care what you think. You’re just a simple fool. You have no thoughts or ideas of your own. You can’t see people for what they truly are; you’re just a strong knight..."
Alfred’s eyes grew colder as he grabbed the Galatine embedded in the ground, his wound fully healed, and his gaze turned steely. He looked down on Norman with disdain.
"You’re a good knight," Alfred said, "but you’re a fool. Learn humanity, and only then will you understand, Foolish Knight. I bestow this title upon you. Be honored."
Norman’s eyes flickered with confusion at Alfred’s words. Although he didn’t understand why Alfred spoke this way or insulted him, there was no time to think.
Why would protecting the kingdom, and defending honor, be dishonorable? Norman, who only wanted to protect the kingdom he grew up in, thought the Duke didn’t understand him.
"For a long time, I thought you’d be a talented, but now I see you’re just a rumor," the Duke scolded harshly, his eyes regarding Norman like garbage.
Norman involuntarily pursed his lips. He still didn’t understand.
"I’ll give you some advice," the Duke said calmly. His gaze shifted to Norman’s dark eyes. "Find yourself a family. Meet someone who loves you not for your power or appearance, but for who you truly are."
"Love?" Norman questioned.
"No, you fool."
The Duke scolded Norman as if he were a child. Norman’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he stared at the Duke. "Then what is it?"
"Family," the Duke explained calmly. "There is nothing more important in this world than family. They are the ones who love you, who push themselves for you, who work tirelessly until nightfall, and who make sacrifices for you."
"I already have a family!" Norman quickly objected.
"Who is your family? Tell me."
"Sister Jessica, Father Artvin, Sister Cessie—"
Before Norman could continue, the Duke’s sharp voice cut him off, his eyes displaying rare anger. "That’s not a family. They are your caretakers. They cannot replace a real family."
"But—"
"I told you," the Duke sighed, his eyes briefly losing their coldness. "If you still don’t understand, then you are a fool. Your strength, your fame, your titles—I don’t care about any of it."
Norman’s eyes flashed uncertainly, showing his confusion. Duke Alfred withdrew his sword and sheathed it.
"Aren’t you going to kill me?" Norman asked in surprise as the Duke was about to leave. The Duke paused, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Today, you are spared by my mercy."
Norman exhaled in relief.
"I won’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you," the Duke calmly explained. Before Norman could grasp what was happening, the Duke’s Mana-infused fist struck his face with immense force, cracking the ground along with Norman’s skull.
As Norman fell unconscious, Alfred exhaled deeply. He was a bit tired, but it wasn’t time to stop yet.
His eyes shifted thoughtfully to the knights still fighting. The Royal Guards were starting to retreat in disarray.
The Sun Knights had suffered some losses, and Miguel had already killed the mage. The remaining mages had fled, having no loyalty to the kingdom.
As the Royal Guards tried to take refuge in the royal palace, dozens of them began to fall.
Duke Alfred sighed in relief. As long as he killed the king as soon as possible, the task would be complete. Either he would capture the king and force him to surrender, or he would kill him.
If the king had already fled, however, the situation would be much harder.
Even if he didn’t want to, Alfred would have to engage in a large-scale war, which would lead to the destruction of thousands of families and plunge the kingdom into chaos again.
Though it was tragic, Alfred had no regrets. As long as Morrigan was safe, he didn’t care how many families were destroyed or lost.
Perhaps his ancestors would condemn him for his sins. He might be a stain in Thornvile’s history or be remembered as the greatest traitor after Mordred.
But to Alfred, it was worth it...