Ivar found the current situation utterly hopeless.
In both the first and second trials, Lucian had displayed an overwhelming gap in ability for all to see.
The tribespeople had already taken it as a foregone conclusion that Lucian would ascend to the position of chieftain.
In a situation like this, if Ivar tried to forcibly drag Lucian down, no one would rally to his side.
Driven into a dead end, on the day of the third trial, Ivar finally played his last card.
"The third trial will be a duel. However, it will not be a duel between candidates. It will proceed as a trial conducted by us against you."
"That sounds like I'm the only one being tested."
"Exactly."
Ivar nodded at Lucian's retort.
"You have already been chosen by the dragon. It would be laughable for someone like that to compete for the chieftain's seat. However, we too have at least the right to choose our ruler."
"So you're saying I should knock all of you down and prove that I'm the ruler?"
"Someone who has obtained the dragon's heart couldn't possibly lose to those of us who have only obtained fragments of it. Isn't that so?"
If, by some chance, he were to lose to even one of them, it would mean the dragon's choice itself had been mistaken.
Having said that, Ivar wore a brazen expression, as if daring anyone to offer a rebuttal to such an "obvious" theory.
At Ivar's final, desperate struggle—thinly veiled as composure—Lucian let out an unconscious snort of laughter.
'How pitiful. Then again, now that he's been cornered this far, there really is no other way to deal with me except through a duel.'
Up to now, the course Lucian had shown was nothing short of dramatic.
Combined with what Marius had prepared in advance, it was to the point that it felt as if a figure out of myth or legend had appeared.
Thanks to that, he had easily won over the hearts of the tribespeople—but conversely, expectations toward Lucian had also skyrocketed.
Even if it would be an unreasonable trial for an ordinary warrior, when it came to Lucian, it was regarded as an appropriate level.
After all, someone who commanded the strongest warrior under him, and who had been chosen by the Dragon's Heart, should be able to overcome such ordeals with ease.
So instead of forcing me down and having the tribespeople reject it, they're going to push me by framing it as a trial, huh. Well, for a scheme hastily put together in a single day, it's not bad.
Legends of a powerful warrior defeating multiple opponents alone were so common they were practically everywhere.
Even if it was a bit unfair, considering the reputation Lucian had built up, it wasn't an impossible test.
On top of that, Ivar and his two sons had also absorbed fragments of the dragon's power.
No matter that Lucian possessed the Dragon's Heart—if they rushed him with killing intent, they must have thought it was worth a try.
"Hmm, when I think about it, the chieftain's words do make sense."
"One who challenges a legend needs a trial befitting that power."
"Honestly, I'd like to see for myself just how strong the dragon's power really is."
As expected, the tribespeople seemed rather eager about Ivar's proposal.
Feeling the surrounding gazes filled with anticipation, Lucian shrugged and spoke.
"Well then, let's do it. Just asking in case—are all of you going to come at me at once?"
"Even someone who's obtained the Dragon's Heart finds it hard to face three warriors at the same time, I see?"
"No, I just figured that would make it end faster. Fighting one by one in turn sounds like a hassle."
At Lucian's brazen reply, Ivar clenched his teeth.
There was no way to tell whether Lucian truly had the confidence to win a three-on-one fight, or if it was just reckless bravado.
"Unfortunately for you, you'll be facing them one at a time, fighting consecutive battles. A warrior does not strike at another's back."
Not striking at another's back, my ass.
They were making them fight one at a time because they didn't know how he fought.
If they observed his fighting style from the sidelines, they might find a way to counter it.
Lucian swallowed his sneer and put on a disappointed expression.
"Well, can't be helped. When do we start?"
"Right now. Here and now."
"Nice and quick. Who's first?"
"Me."
At the voice coming from the side, Lucian turned his head and saw Ainar stepping forward with an axe slung over his shoulder.
Ainar stared at Lucian with resolute eyes and lowered his axe.
As if answering him, Lucian likewise drew his sword and walked toward Ainar.
When the two faced each other at a set distance, the tribespeople hurriedly retreated, forming a makeshift dueling ground.
"Anything you want to say before the duel?"
At Lucian's words, Ainar blinked in mild surprise, then gave a bitter smile.
"What could I possibly say to you at this point? I still remember what shame and humiliation are."
From Ainar—who only a few days ago had treated Lucian as an equal—formal speech now flowed.
It wasn't the showy politeness his father Ivar used, but genuine respect born from the heart.
Lucian looked at Ainar quietly and spoke.
"If you're that ashamed, you can just refuse. In the end, you still obey your father."
"He's still my family. How could I abandon them just to save myself? If I can't save them, then all I can do is die together."
"Even after missing the chance to die together? When the rest of your family is already dead and you alone remain—would you make the same choice then?"
At the unexpected words, Ainar's face stiffened.
After a moment of deliberation, Ainar let out a deep sigh and raised his axe.
"Let's begin."
A smile spread across Lucian's lips.
He probably had no intention of answering—perhaps because, even if he wanted to, he didn't have the nerve to beg Lucian for his life.
What a waste to let him die here.
Not only was he far better than his father, he was a warrior with a clearer head than most imperial knights.
If taken under his command, he could more than fulfill the role of a bridge between the tribes of the tundra and the Empire's people.
Having decided to spare Ainar, Lucian let his sword hang loosely toward the ground.
"Come."
"Raise your weapon."
"Sorry, but you're not an opponent worth assuming a stance for. Don't worry about pointless things—just attack first."
At words that were practically an insult, Ainar's face flushed red.
Though he was in no position to hold his head high because of his sins, having his skill as a warrior dismissed was a separate matter.
"You'll regret this!"
Fwoooosh!
Ainar burst forth with the dragon's power surging from his entire body and charged straight at Lucian.
His speed and strength were in no way inferior even compared to the Empire's most renowned knights.
Yet Lucian didn't even blink as he reached out a hand toward the axe flying at him.
"What the—…!"
Ainar was horrified by the reckless move, but it was already too late to stop the axe he had swung.
The axe collided with Lucian's outstretched hand at a terrifying speed.
KRAAANG
"…W-what…?"
The eyes of the onlookers bulged wide.
A weapon had struck bare flesh—so why did it sound like metal crashing against metal?
A moment later, when Ainar realized the source of that thunderous noise, he recoiled in shock.
"You've got to be kidding!"
Lucian was casually gripping the blade of the axe with his bare hand.
Despite it being a blow swung with all of Ainar's strength, he showed no sign of strain whatsoever.
Lucian gave the axe blade a playful shake, then grinned.
"Is that it?"
Cold sweat trickled down Ainar's forehead.
At a glance, it would be easy to mistake this for Lucian having snatched the axe with monstrous strength just before it bit into flesh.
But Ainar, the one holding the axe, knew the truth.
"He didn't grab it before it hit. He took it head-on—with his palm."
The axe blade had unmistakably dug into Lucian's palm.
And yet, it hadn't managed to leave so much as a single small cut on his skin.
"What on earth did you do?"
"Don't you know? It's a power you already possess as well."
The moment he finished speaking, a wavering, flame-shaped haze flickered around Lucian's body.
Looking more closely, it became clear that Lucian was enveloped in a thin layer of magic over his entire body.
Only then did Ainar understand the true nature of the force that had blocked the axe blade.
"The dragon's power…!"
At Ainar's words, Lucian gave a deep smile as if to say correct.
***
"The dragon's magic power is the dragon's power itself."
The night before, Marius had answered Lucian's questions with utmost sincerity.
He chose his words carefully again and again, changing his phrasing so that even someone ignorant of magic could understand.
Perhaps thanks to his experience raising many disciples, Marius's explanation was fairly easy to grasp.
"Everything a dragon can do is accomplished by using the magic power of its heart. Since Your Highness has obtained the power of that heart, it would be fair to say you can essentially reproduce all of the authority of the ancient dragons."
"So I can even breathe fire from my mouth?"
"Yes. As long as you possess firm belief, organs capable of replacing a flame sac, and control over the flow of manifested magic power."
Lucian was left dumbfounded when his half-joking remark received such a serious answer.
No—was it really possible for a human body to breathe fire?
"Is that actually possible?"
"In theory, it is entirely possible. The problem is that Your Highness was born with a human body and has grown accustomed to human common sense."
A dragon knows from the moment it is born what it can do, and the Dragon's Heart is an organ optimized for such a being.
Naturally, for a human body to borrow that power, one has no choice but to imitate a dragon—from thought to action.
There was no way an organ created for dragons would conveniently adapt itself to a human.
"The simplest example is the heat produced when magic power is manifested. Dragons are born with organs that store that heat, so they can gather it inside their bodies and then release it, but…"
"Humans don't have such organs. So the moment magic power is manifested, it just leaks out nonstop."
"Exactly as you say."
"Then breathing fire or flying through the sky would be difficult. The former would be too dangerous to replace with another organ, and the latter would require wings at the very least."
A dragon could lift its massive body into the sky with just two thin membrane wings, flying freely in all directions.
That mobility came from the power of its heart, but put another way, even dragons needed wings as an organ in order to fly.
If a human—born without dragon-like organs—tried to forcibly substitute them with other body parts, the body would suffer severe damage.
"Above all, it's impossible to take breathing fire or flying through the sky as something natural. It's something humans have never experienced since birth."
"Indeed. However, moving the body swiftly and swinging one's limbs with force—those are things humans experience all the time."
"I see. Is that why merely absorbing the dragon's magic power strengthens the body?"
For pure physical reinforcement, there was no need to imitate a dragon at all—the conditions were essentially fulfilled automatically.
Having gained a rough understanding, Lucian fell into thought.
What method would allow him to naturally imitate a dragon and draw out its power?
Claws could be replaced with a sword, fangs were irrelevant, and poison—like wings—required organs he didn't have.
Among the remaining authorities, there was only one that could be used effectively.
"Is it possible to imitate a dragon's scales with a human body?"
At Lucian's question, Marius answered immediately, without even a hint of hesitation.
"It is possible."
Reproducing a dragon's scales was simple.
All it took was reinforcing the body—something any knight could naturally do—and then wrapping it in magic power.
The resulting increase in durability was minor, but the important thing was that the body became tougher, even if only a little.
What matters is that durability goes up in the first place. If there's even a slight effect, I can amplify it explosively with the dragon's authority.
As a result, Lucian's body, wrapped in magic power, became so hard that calling it dragon scales would hardly be an exaggeration.
Unless it was a sword wielded by Felicia, it wouldn't even leave a scratch.
Naturally, there was no way Ainar—who fell far short of Felicia's level—could wound Lucian's body.
Looking at Ainar, who still hadn't recovered from the shock, Lucian spoke.
"Is that it?"
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