"This humble individual greets the representative of the crown, the Royal Magician. It is a pleasure to meet you in person, my lord."
"?!?!"
Despite his unkempt looks, the bleached-blond-haired youth showed proper manners, addressing and greeting the person of the highest position representing the royal family absent for the event. He even put his hand to his chest and bowed properly, which was the most appropriate kind of greeting for someone who wasn't from the royal family.
A noble had to kneel only before their ruling Monarch, not even their spouses or children.
Only peasants and bootlickers dropped down and kowtowed to anyone of a remotely higher status.
Although that was also where Rotsard's manners seemingly ended… He should be following that greeting with addressing the other parties present, including his opponent, but instead he merely straightened his back, shaking off the ice, snow, and dust from the arena's field he kicked up when falling, and… that's it.
He stood there unbothered.
His apparition wasn't threatening at all, the only imposing parts about him were his eyes.
But those beastly yellow eyes were enough to make others choke up when attempting to call him out while making eye contact.
For some reason, Rotsard appeared to have a particular grudge against the Vallhall family, glaring at them more than at anyone else.
"Hmph! It seems my men managed to convince you to show up!"
"...?"
Then, the patriarch of the Treedor family, Henry's father, spoke up mockingly, making the youth slowly turn his head his way but without bothering to look at the man's face.
"Sure. Let's go with that."
"!!!"
After a second of staring into the distance, Rotsard shrugged his shoulders and admitted without an issue, all while… well… everything about him was causing Mary's instinct to scream at her to run away.
As far and as fast as possible.
He was far shorter, already in a miserable shape, and Mary couldn't even feel an ounce of pressure of swordsmanship coming out of him, and yet…
"...?"
Now that she thought about it, Mery realized that she was no longer sensing the pressure of swordsmanship coming out of either the general of the kingdom or even from the patriarch of the Vallhall family seated amongst the audience, and she was pretty overwhelmed by it only moments earlier before the bleached-blond-haired youth appeared....
…actually, she couldn't even sense her own swordsmanship aura, even though she knew the strength was right there at her disposal… but, she simply couldn't perceive it as usual…
"Considering we still have a bit of time, you're allowed to…"
"With all due respect, with permission of the Royal Magician, my opponent, and everyone present, I would like to request that we start the duel post haste."
The patriarch of the Treedor family declared with a benevolent expression, but was cut off by Rotsard's cold and slightly tense voice.
"You see, I just went through a less-than-pleasant experience and would appreciate it if we wouldn't prolong this… event… any more than necessary."
"...you…!"
The youth added with a completely straight face, causing the patriarch of the Treedor family to almost lose his temper.
Was there a need for him to even bother about a dead man's impertinence?
"So be it. If you're so impatient to meet your demise… Is anyone present opposing the earlier start of the life and death duel between Mary Treedor and Rotsard Vallhall?"
"..."
The patriarch of the Treedor family took a deep breath and enhanced his voice with a spell so that everyone within the arena heard him properly… and not a soul raised their hand or voiced their disagreement.
"This duel will have no single judge, as all those present will be witnesses. Of the two of you who entered the arena of your own will, only one will walk out alive. The death of the other will mark the end of the disagreement between the two houses. Do you acknowledge that?"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Sure~"
The patriarch of the Treedor family announced, as the tradition ordained him to, and both participants responded with affirmation… although with blatantly obvious differences in attitude.
"..."
Mary gritted her teeth and decided to let go of it. Thanks to the intel gathered by her family, she was aware of her opponent's capabilities and that his so-called might depended solely on him cheating and receiving preferential treatment from teachers of the Royal Academy.
His smugness would soon disappear when faced with an actual Sword Viscount wielding 5th tier spells and specializing in nature magic.
No matter what equipment he used, when the push comes to shove, and their survival is at stake, cheaters tend to experience the harshness of reality, so she, Mary Treedor, will be the one having the last laugh!
"Take your place and present all the equipment and contracted faefolk you will be using! The spell on the arena will prevent anything besides those and your own magic from being used!"
The patriarch of the Treedor family called out, and the two turned away from each other and walked to separate sides of the field.