How To Live As A Third Son Of A Failure [EN]: Chapter 171

“Hah.”

The man who appeared to be Count Lindaier let out a short sigh.

The anger that had flared up was now extinguished, replaced by a chilling coldness.

“Count Lindaier.”

“You know me?”

“How could I not?”

“Then you must know what you should do now.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Kneel before the imperial palace and apologize to His Majesty the King.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll have to force you to.”

Count Lindaier spoke casually as he moved toward the sword stuck in the ground.

Empty-handed, with his hands behind his back, he appeared to be taking a leisurely stroll. If one were to attack, now would be the perfect opportunity.

However, the black-haired man remained still, as if his feet were glued to the ground, holding his sword up.

Perhaps because of that, Ruth, who had regained his composure, hurriedly pulled me back.

“Talk about terrible timing.”

“I agree.”

“Did he notice?”

In response to my question about whether he had noticed the power of the Avatar [a powerful entity or state], Ruth shook his head.

“I used all my power earlier. He probably didn’t see it.”

“That’s a relief then.”

After finishing my conversation with Ruth, I looked back at the black-haired man.

He was constantly darting his eyes around. His thoughts were clear: he was desperately looking for a way to escape, just as I had been a moment ago.

He probably sensed it too – that he couldn’t beat Count Lindaier in a one-on-one fight.

Even among Masters [highly skilled individuals], there are clear differences in skill. Moreover, the black-haired man was still in the transitional stage from a top-tier Expert to a Master, making the disparity even greater.

In the end, he seemed to have given up on finding a way to escape.

It was a natural conclusion. If the Count thought he might miss him, he wouldn’t be acting so relaxed in the first place.

Since they were both strong, they seemed to be sizing each other up quickly.

“Damn it.”

The black-haired man, expressing his frustration, adjusted his stance.

“Well, it’s a bit early, but I’ve always wanted to fight you, so it’s a good thing in a way.”

On the other hand, the Count tilted his head at the black-haired man’s words.

“Fight?”

“…….”

“You don’t seem to know the true definition of the act of fighting.”

The Count reached out, pulled the sword out of the ground, and slowly shook his head.

“In such cases, it should be expressed as gaining a bitter lesson.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the Count’s sword flashed white. It was a sword strike that looked exactly like the Flash [a swift sword technique] I could barely perform with the help of the Avatar.

Well, the Count is also a descendant of Bain Lindaier, so it’s not surprising.

Clang!

With a clear sound, the black-haired man’s sword trembled.

Scratch what I said about it being similar to mine.

It was much more elaborate, faster, and sharper. It was as if that was the ultimate representation of the Flash.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

After that, the black-haired man gritted his teeth and blocked the flashes that penetrated like whips.

“…….”

The situation remained stagnant.

The Count emitted flashes, and the black-haired man only blocked the attacks.

To someone who didn’t know the situation, it would look like they had rehearsed beforehand. It was a sword fight with no progress at all.

However, any knight who had wielded a sword even a little would know what the situation was.

The Count’s flash was nothing more than a jab in boxing. And the black-haired man was just raising his guard like a turtle, unable to shake off even that jab.

In other words, it meant that he was overwhelming him without having to exert his full power.

And the lips of the black-haired man, who was the most aware of this, trembled.

“Damn you!”

The black-haired man’s eyes turned bloodshot, and the energy he emitted became even more intense.

It was the unique ability of the Unholy Knight [a dark knight], which Birun had used in Baron Trot’s castle in the past.

Even after confirming it, the Count only slightly raised his eyebrows.

You could say he was the epitome of composure.

The black-haired man, who had been steadily emitting overbearing energy, dodged the flashes in succession and rushed in.

However, the Count’s response was simple.

He merely moved his feet, which had been still until now, to match his opponent. There was nothing else.

When the black-haired man rushed in, he retreated by the same distance. Then, of course, the distance would continue to be maintained, which meant that it was no different from the situation just now.

The Count was still wielding his sword, and the black-haired man was still just blocking it.

It couldn’t be simpler to say. It was so easy that I was even confused as to why I couldn’t do it.

‘But it’s easier said than done.’

How much experience and training do you need to be able to perform such maneuvers?

Looking at that fight alone, it was no different from an adult playing with a child.

If there was a huge wall between me and the black-haired man, it felt like a mountain was standing between the black-haired man and the Count.

If I, as a spectator, felt this way, how would the guy who was experiencing it firsthand feel?

He must be frustrated.

He’s been blocking well so far, but the moment that guard is breached even once…….

“Kuhuk!”

No sooner had I finished speaking than the black-haired man missed a flash for the first time.

The first wound was on his cheek. Blood trickled down the black-haired man’s cheek, where a long red line had been drawn.

After that, it was like bamboo shoots after a rain [appearing rapidly and in great numbers].

Shoulder, forearm, abdomen, chest, thigh…….

The white flashes that were spewed out like a flurry relentlessly swept across the black-haired man’s entire body.

It was a development similar to the second verse of Bain Lindaier’s Song of Valor [a heroic ballad], the Whirlwind.

Of course, the Count was using it more easily and effortlessly than I was. Perhaps that was proof that he was very skilled at controlling the strength of his power.

I was very curious to see what it would look like if the Count had used his full power.

“Kuaaak!”

The black-haired man, unable to bear it any longer, swung his sword a few times, but the Count, not even allowing that, began to finish him off.

Once, twice, three times, four times…….

The flashes that flashed exactly four times cleanly severed the black-haired man’s ankles and wrists.

“Keuheueuk…….”

The black-haired man, who had lost the strength to support himself, knelt powerlessly and collapsed to the ground.

The black-haired man, who had slammed his head into the ground, ended up bowing his head towards the imperial palace as the Count had said at first.

“Didn’t I say I would make you bow?”

The Count, looking at the scene, said quietly and sheathed his sword.

‘A superhuman is a superhuman.’

And after confirming the black-haired man’s miserable end, I was finally able to relax and accept my heavy eyelids.

* * *

The fallen black-haired man was only letting out miserable groans, and seemed to have no strength left to resist.

Count Lindaier, confirming him, clicked his tongue silently.

‘He’s strong.’

He didn’t show it, but it was an undeniable fact.

The reason he ended it as safely as possible and with only the basics was for that reason.

In the first place, if he was a insignificant guy who couldn’t even approach him, he could have ended it in an instant with overwhelming power.

But the guy was strong enough to make the back of his neck tingle just by looking at him, so he chose a way to win for sure without any variables.

At least in Capital, the only skilled people who could guarantee a definite win against that black-haired man were Graham or himself.

That much was certain. There would be more if it was just a matter of crossing swords, but only the two of them could guarantee a definite victory.

Count Lindaier slowly turned his head and checked behind him.

Ruth Meyer was kneeling with difficulty, his mouth wide open as he watched the sword fight just now.

Ilia seemed to have fainted from the shock, and Cain Lindaier also seemed to be the same, judging by the fact that he had closed his eyes.

“Ruth Meyer.”

“……Yes, Lord.”

“Cain must have fired the signal flare himself.”

“Y, yes, he did.”

After hearing Ruth’s answer, the Count thought.

He moved immediately after hearing the signal flare, but there was still a considerable distance between the center and the outskirts.

Of course, the movement of a knight running at full speed could be said to be the best, at least in a city with many structures like this…….

‘Still, it’s at least five minutes.’

In any case, it was certain that Cain had endured that time against that black-haired man.

‘Could Jescal withstand five minutes against that man?’

The Count recalled Jescal, a genius among geniuses who was praised as the next-generation Master.

The answer was yes. If he gave up on a head-on match and only focused on dodging attacks and escaping, he would be able to do it.

But if he were asked if he could put Jescal and Cain on the same level, that was definitely not the case.

‘Jescal is a veteran knight on the verge of becoming a top-tier Expert.’

On the other hand, Cain was just a rookie who had just become an Expert. Naturally, there would be a gap as wide as the sky and the earth between Jescal and Cain’s skills.

Besides, they were the ones who had been plotting insidiously behind the scenes.

Those guys, and even a guy who seemed to be playing a fairly central role in terms of his skills, showed up in Capital, which was no different from the enemy’s lair.

The reason they did such a reckless thing was probably because of Cain, as he could see now.

Thinking that way, it was even stranger. To waste five minutes while being so relaxed in a situation where he had his top priority right in front of him.

It was getting more and more complicated.

‘It’s either one of two things. That black-haired man is an idiot who is caught up in his own arrogance, or Cain is hiding his skills.’

The possibility of the former was low.

Even though the black-haired man’s intentions were negative, the spirit contained in his sword was clear.

Then it was the latter?

That was just as unbelievable.

Cain’s actions so far had been a series of surprises, but there was still something hidden inside?

The Count bit his lip.

He couldn’t figure out what he was doing. He felt like he wanted to tie him up and torture him to find out the truth.

“Count Lindaier!”

The Count, confirming the knights and mages who had arrived late, regained his composure.

In any case, the situation was the worst.

Black ashes were constantly flying in the fire that had engulfed numerous buildings. The main street was full of corpses, and ghouls were wandering around chasing the humans who had survived even that.

He felt a sense of alienation as to whether this was really the Capital he remembered.

‘This place is hopeless.’

Judgment must be swift.

The Count, who had decided to give up on this place, opened his mouth.

“Quickly identify and rescue only the survivors.”

“What about the fire?”

“It’s not at a level that can be extinguished with one or two mages. Find areas that are still intact, set a backfire [a controlled burn to stop a larger fire], and get out.”

“Understood.”

“Ruth, can you move?”

At the Count’s call, Ruth slowly got up.

“Yes.”

“Take Cain and Ilia and evacuate.”

“Understood. Then what about that guy…….”

The Count gritted his teeth at Ruth’s words pointing to the black-haired man.

“I will personally escort that criminal to the underground prison of the imperial palace.”

“Understood.”

The Count, confirming that Ruth, who was holding Cain and Ilia, was evacuating, turned his head and looked at the city center before leaving for the last time.

Burning Capital.

Count Lindaier, who had such unforgettable memories and new anger, turned his body.