Welcome to Hell!

Chapter 229: Crossing Swords

The morning after I taught Chirik spiritual arts, we decided to train behind the stables. However, for today, we stuck to barehanded sparring. This was because Chris had warned us that making too much noise could bother the people in the mansio.

“Hah! You’re pretty good!”

“Ah! You’re strong too.”

Chris, who gave us this advice, was sparring with Lappy. It seemed that Chris and Hilda also wanted to keep their bodies in shape, just in case. When we approached them, it turned into a joint training session where we sweated together.

The abilities of Chris and Lappy were evenly matched. Of course, Lappy was not in her demon form, and Chris hadn’t drawn her twin swords, so neither was fighting seriously. After all, it was just a sparring match.

However, hand-to-hand combat was Lappy’s true specialty, and Chris seemed to be good at fighting with her prosthetic arm and gauntlets. They were the perfect opponents for each other.

“Ugh… I’m not good at hand-to-hand combat.”

“Hah! For someone who claims to be bad at it, you’re holding up pretty well!”

Near Lappy and Chris, Decius and Hilda were also engaged in sparring. It appeared that Decius was at a slight disadvantage. He was managing to defend against Hilda’s attacks, but he was mostly on the defensive.

Decius was indeed a skilled warrior, but it seemed he couldn’t match Hilda in terms of pure technique. However, he compensated with his cunning nature and the intuition gained from his extensive combat experience. He seemed to be engaging in conversation as a way to buy time, all the while looking for an opportunity to counterattack. Hilda needed to be careful not to let her guard down.

“Take this!”

“Hmph!”

Still, the most intense sparring session was undoubtedly the one between Tigar and his son Leo. Leo who was facing his father showed no restraint whatsoever. And Tigar, for his part, was determined to train his son rigorously, especially since he didn’t want him to lose his life in actual battle.

Though neither was in their demon form and thus not entirely serious, they were both giving it their all under the current circumstances. Leo lunged into Tigar’s chest with his elbow, and the latter intentionally received the blow before he clasped his hands together and swung down hard.

Although Leo dodged the direct hit to his head with a quick reflex, Tigar landed a solid blow on his shoulder and Leo crumbled to the ground from the impact….. However, this was only a feint. In a swift move, he grabbed Tigar’s leg. As he wrapped his arms around Tigar’s knee, Leo attempted a leg sweep to bring him down, planning to mount him in the next move.

“Too naive!”

“Ugh!”

But Tigar, as if anticipating this move, wrapped his legs around Leo’s waist and effortlessly pushed him away. This wasn’t just brute strength; it was a demonstration of skill in grappling techniques.

In actual battles, where one-on-one fights rarely occurred, the techniques of ground fighting were not particularly useful. However, they could come in handy when there’s a need to capture and restrain someone alive, and above all, they were an excellent way to learn how to move the body during training.

“Gah… Huh!”

“Good movement. You’re quick to get up after taking a fall. Did you raise your arm?”

“Ooooh!”

And I was training with Bolts. Unlike Leo and Tigar’s fistfight, it was more about Bolts attacking and me defending. I wouldn’t say it out loud because it would upset him, but among the four demon people here, including myself, Bolts was the weakest. If I were to initiate the attack, it would just end up being a one-sided beating.

Therefore, I let Bolts attack as he pleased, and I dealt with his assaults. Sometimes I would block, other times I would deflect. To keep the tension alive, I occasionally threw him off suddenly.

Bolts, having been thrown, quickly rolled to his feet. His movements had become significantly faster compared to when we first met, and since I was impressed by his improvement, I praised him. His progress indicated that his efforts in training were paying off.

However, Bolts didn’t crack a smile and, with what seemed like killing intent, raised his fist to attack again. As usual, no one had been able to connect with him emotionally. Even Chirik, whom we had met just two days ago, was more approachable than him. I kept my expression unchanged while internally pondering over what to do about this situation.

“This is, how should I put it… quite intense.”

“Your Excellency?!”

While we were all engaged in our training, Robert who was dressed in clothes that allowed for easy movement, emerged from the mansion into the backyard. Perhaps the appearance of the head of the Rowell family was unexpected, as both Hilda and Chris kneeled down in a panic. Following their example, the rest of us also kneeled down.

“Be at ease. You see, I woke up early and heard voices coming from the backyard. I thought I might exercise a bit myself after such a long time.”

Robert said this with a cheerful smile, and he drew the sword he had at his waist. The sword was thin but incredibly sharp, designed more for thrusting than slicing. Although it appeared to be sheathed, it was clear that in the hands of someone skilled, it could easily pierce through poor-quality armor.

Robert gripped the sword in his right hand and assumed a stance. His posture was impeccable, which went to show that his swordsmanship was no mere hobby but intended for real battle. It was also clear from his footsteps that he had kept his body well-trained.

He lunged forward, pushing off the ground with his back foot, twisting his arm as he thrust into the air. The sharp sound of the air being sliced echoed in the silent backyard. It was a remarkable thrust.

“You might see this as child’s play, but I can move quite well, can’t I?”

“Excellent work, Your Excellency,”

Hilda praised him on our behalf. Her admiration was genuine, not just flattery, and it was also obvious that Robert was pleased with her words as he nodded with a satisfied expression.

Robert, who had been urging everyone to resume their practice, suddenly approached me as we were about to start sparring in the same pairs as before. He lightly tapped my shoulder and made a request.

“I pride myself on being reasonably well-trained, but Gina told me that you are far more formidable. Would you mind showing me a glimpse of your skill?”

Despite his request to witness my strength, Robert’s face was adorned with the same cheerful smile as when he first arrived. This made it impossible for me to grasp his true intentions.

I wondered whether he simply wanted to assess my capabilities or if there was another reason behind his request. My insight failed to provide an answer. However, since Lieselotte and Robert employed me, refusing was not an option.

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“Understood. Let’s do it.”

“Then, please use this sword.”

Robert handed Antares the sword he had prepared in advance. After receiving it, Antares pulled out the sword from its scabbard and made several practice swings as if to check the condition of the weapon.

(He swings the sword so casually, yet there’s not a single wasted movement in his actions. What a terrifying man.)

Robert requested a match with Antares for two reasons. The first was his curiosity to witness the strength of someone Gina had proclaimed as a hero-level talent. The second was to personally verify if this man was of good enough character to entrust his close cousin’s daughter.

Liselotte seemed to trust him, yet at the same time, she was hiding something. She masked it well, but to Robert, who had honed his skills in probing minds as a finance minister, it was blatantly obvious.

This wasn’t a case of Liselotte’s poor acting skills; rather, it was Robert’s exceptional ability to see through such performances. The difference lay in their accumulated experiences. It was simply a case of Liselotte being outmatched.

(I may not be a warrior, but I should at least be able to discern a person’s character from their swordsmanship.)

After only a few swings, Antares seemed to have gotten a feel for the sword’s quirks. He gripped the handle with both hands and assumed a proper stance. Seeing this, Robert also turned sideways and pointed his sword tip towards Antares.

Although their blades were blunted, this was still a match with real swords. At first, Robert had intended to stop just short, but the moment they faced off, he realized it was unnecessary to show such consideration against this opponent.

(He leaves no openings. And even though I’m not intimidated by his sword, it makes my skin crawl… Is this what they call hero-level skill?)

Robert, who had been exposed to martial arts from a young age as part of his noble upbringing, quickly understood that it would be difficult to even inflict a scratch on Antares standing before him. At this point, one of his reasons for wanting this match was already fulfilled.

Then, it was time to explore the other reason—to understand what kind of man Antares was. To do this, Robert needed to draw out even a fraction of Antares’s true capabilities. Focusing intently, he took a deep breath and lunged forward with a swift move.

“Ha!”

It was no exaggeration to say that the swift strike that Robert executed was the best he could muster at the moment. His target was Antares’s throat, a spot where a direct hit could potentially cause a life-threatening injury.

However, Robert wasn’t worried about actually causing such harm, and indeed, no such thing happened. Antares smoothly maneuvered his sword in response to Robert’s thrust. Robert was more astonished by the fact that he barely felt any impact from their swords clashing than his own strike being deflected.

Fully aware of the significant disparity in their abilities, Robert withdrew his sword only to thrust again, and occasionally he swung it, aiming to barely graze vital points. With each attempt, Antares skillfully dodged or sometimes smoothly parried the attacks.

(His swordplay is unwavering and honest. He must be a sincere man. He’s careful not to hurt my hand when our swords meet, showing thoughtfulness for his opponent’s position. His skill is almost frighteningly superior, but… he seems trustworthy.)

As their swords clashed, Robert assessed Antares in such a way. He was honest and earnest, yet possessed a degree of flexibility. Additionally, Robert sensed no ambition in him to exploit Lieselotte. Just as he had felt upon their first meeting, Antares was an unusually good-natured man for a mercenary.

Robert felt reassured in his heart that Antares would be suitable as a bodyguard. Robert continued to wield his sword, feeling satisfied in his heart.