“You think you can defeat me with a few drops of blood from me?”
Hesabel didn’t bother replying. Instead, she pushed forward, holding a hidden trump card. Threads shot out from Hastel’s fingertips, forming a crimson web. Just before she was turned into minced meat, Hesabel drew the Rite of Division.
“What?!”
Hastel’s eyes widened. The Rite of Division instantly unraveled and severed the crimson threads like cotton candy. The power of the Red Chalice couldn’t withstand the Rite of Division.
At that moment, Hastel also brought out a new weapon. From the blood she drew from her palm, she formed a sword—the very sword she had used to try and block the Reaper’s scythe, the one that had been broken.
Crack! Surprisingly, Hastel’s sword blocked the Rite of Division.
It was a natural result. Hastel’s sword was hastily forged by condensing the iron content in her blood. Ironically, it was perfectly suited to counter the Rite of Division. The Rite of Division was less effective against anything other than miracles or angels, reducing it to a mere kitchen knife.
“You think I rely solely on miracles, you fool?”
Hastel fiercely brandished her sword, driving Hesabel back. Like most of Wallachia’s old nobles, Hastel possessed top-tier swordsmanship skills within the Kingdom of Wallachia. In contrast, Hesabel was barely managing to defend against her attacks.
She began to feel anxious.
She had thought that her journey and the experiences she had gained would allow her to surpass her godmother. However, Hastel was far stronger than she had imagined. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had been secluded for decades.
“If you repent even now, I’ll pretend this never happened!”
Hastel shouted sharply.
It was a lie.
There were cases where a failed successor fled, but they were never spared on purpose. Hastel had no intention of setting a precedent, and Hesabel didn’t believe her.
But the very fact that Hastel was making such an offer showed Hesabel that Hastel was also feeling anxious.
The fight had gone on too long.
Succession fights were supposed to end in an instant.
Under the strict guard of the personal guard, betrayal, shock, and silence all happened in a flash. The personal guards almost never got directly involved.
Usually, the master’s dominance was so overwhelming that unless the successor ended it with a sudden attack, it was rare for the successor to win. After a brief death struggle, only the victor and the silence of the accomplices remained.
“You must be wondering why the Rite of Division is in my hands, aren’t you, Mother?”
“...Did you seduce the Holy Grail Knight?”
Like the other human hunters, Hastel harbored such suspicions. Perhaps Hesabel had not only succeeded in retrieving the Rite of Division but also seduced the legendary hero Isaac Issacrea, possibly even controlling him.
The second-in-command to a hero, the chancellor to a king, the strategist to a general.
This was the ideal form of proselytism the Red Chalice Club aspired to. In that sense, Hesabel’s current position seemed reasonable.
But for Hastel, the story was different.
“If that were true, you should have returned the Rite of Division to the family long ago. The very fact that you’ve kept it hidden and carried it around means you were plotting something all along, doesn’t it?”
Hesabel’s success posed a threat to Hastel. It would have been different if she had simply returned the Rite of Division, but she had been on the run, growing stronger. It was only natural to assume she had been harboring ulterior motives. For a master, the right move would be to eliminate this powerful competitor and recover the Rite of Division.
“If you have no other intentions, return the Rite of Division and come back to Gulmar Castle. I won’t hold you accountable for anything else. I’ll even grant you land.”
It was the most generous offer Hastel could make. Offering land meant that while she couldn’t keep her as a successor, she would allow her to continue serving as a retainer. It was the only way to coexist with a powerful competitor.
But Hesabel chuckled at her words.
“Oh, Mother... Have you become so narrow-minded from staying cooped up in that tiny room?”
“What?”
“Do you think I would wander around this far, under the scorching sun, just to claim a mere duchy? For that tiny nation’s meager land, how pitiful and pathetic of you.”
Hastel almost burst into rage but managed to hold it back. But Hesabel was right; the Kingdom of Wallachia was a small country. Even the entire kingdom was smaller than the lands held by Duke Brant. Naturally, the Gulmar Duchy was even smaller.
But after traveling with Isaac, seeing vast lands, powerful people, and the sea, the narrow territory seemed insignificant to Hesabel.
“I’m thinking about ultimate victory, Mother.”
Hesabel’s eyes gleamed with a deep crimson as she whispered.
“I plan to join forces with the Holy Grail Knight and succeed in the ‘Crimson Grave’...”