The Return of the Limited-Time Sword Master

Chapter 92: Hierarchy Re-organization (7)

Martin entered the reception room.

Thud!

A man with unkempt black hair and what looked like a freshly grown beard jumped up from his seat. This scruffy-looking figure was none other than Wilhelm von Fezek.

Despite the messy appearance, his aura as a branch family head radiated unmistakably.

Though with his cowering expression, the authority he should have commanded was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s been a while, Wilhelm. We haven’t met since the Monster Wave incident. Have you been well?”

“H-How could I be well, considering what I’ve done.”

“Well, it seems striking the Bitenfeld family first was worth it. Since you’ve come here to talk directly, and more surprisingly, seem aware of your wrongdoings.”

“…It’s impossible not to know. I sincerely apologize to you, Young Lord. Not only did I betray the former head’s wishes, but I also failed to fulfill my duties as a branch family head.”

Thud.

As soon as he finished speaking, Wilhelm dropped to his knees, bowing his head low. Martin couldn’t help but be taken aback by the unexpected action.

‘Was I really that much of a pushover in my previous life?’

Wilhelm had been the first to attack him in that life. And now here he was, kneeling before Martin, paralyzed with fear. It made Martin acutely aware of how much his stature had shifted.

“I swear eternal loyalty to you, Young Lord! Please, forgive our family!”

“Oh, come now, Wilhelm, didn’t you just admit that you failed in your duty as a branch family head? Since when has loyalty to a direct family member become a condition of negotiation? I haven’t heard of such a thing.”

“Well… that is…”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have no intention of crushing the Fezek family like I did the Rustal or Bitenfeld families. After all, Wilhelm, unlike them, you didn’t directly betray me.”

Wilhelm’s expression brightened slightly at Martin’s words.

But his hope didn’t last long, as Martin’s next statement plunged him back into despair.

“However, you must bear responsibility for associating with the traitors.”

“R-Responsibility? What do you mean?”

“Once the Gustin family’s rebellion is suppressed and the territorial battle with the Royce family is over, we’ll divide up the Fezek lands. The founder of the Adalbert family generously granted your lands out of favor, giving the Fezek family a territory far larger than befitting a mere viscount. Yet, in return, all you’ve done is repeatedly edge toward betrayal, haven’t you?”

Dividing up his lands… Such a decision would render the Fezek family weaker than any other branch family. Wilhelm, in horror, clung desperately to Martin once more.

“I was wrong! Please, just give me one more chance!”

“What’s the point of begging for forgiveness now? You should never have committed those acts in the first place.”

The taunting tone of Martin’s response left Wilhelm’s face pale.

He knew. Martin was more than capable of keeping his word, as his recent actions had proven that.

“What… What must I do to be forgiven? I’ll do anything you ask, so please, just give me one last chance, Young Lord.”

“A chance, you say… Will you truly do anything?”

“Of course!”

“Very well, then. When we suppress the Gustin family’s rebellion, I want you and the Fezek family to lead the vanguard.”

Wilhelm’s face drained of color, turning from pale to an even starker white.

On his way to the Adalbert estate, he had heard that Elder Aren and Elder Marius had allied with the Gustin family.

And even if that weren’t the case, the Gustin family was in a fortified defensive position.

Attack those who had prepared thoroughly?

‘He’s trying to ensure our family takes a severe blow.’

Wilhelm let out a heavy sigh.

Though his lands might remain intact, the losses in knights and lives would be severe.

Not to mention the costs of training knights and the expenses of war—they would surely deal a heavy blow to the family’s finances.

But he had no choice.

The faint smile on Martin’s face revealed everything he needed to know.

‘If I refuse, he’ll immediately divide my lands as he said.’

However devastating the immediate loss might be, preserving the territory was paramount.

Wilhelm, having reached a conclusion, finally spoke.

“Fine. I accept your proposal, Young Lord.”

“A wise decision, Wilhelm.”

Martin smiled and helped Wilhelm to his feet. Then, he opened a subspace and pulled out two recording artifacts.

“I promise in the name of the Adalbert family: If the Fezek family fights valiantly as the vanguard, I’ll forgive all your past misdeeds.”

“I’ll do my utmost to uphold our agreement.”

Their voices were stored in the artifacts. Martin handed one to Wilhelm, who, upon receiving it, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Though it came at a cost, he had managed to secure his family’s survival.

“Besides our agreement, Young Lord, I’d like to make a proposal.”

“What is it?”

“How about a duel, just the two of us? On the condition we don’t aim to kill, of course. Oh, and there should be a referee.”

“And why is that?”

“I know the chances of me winning against you, the one who defeated the Crimson Reaper, are slim. That’s precisely why I want to face you.”

“To justify your allegiance by losing to me?”

“…I know it sounds pathetic, but yes, that’s it.”

“As long as you uphold your promise to lead the vanguard, I have no objections.”

Martin readily accepted the proposal.

Hadn’t Arelia, the great ancestor of the family, personally told him?

As soon as he had an opportunity, his unique ability would likely reach the 4th Circle.

In that sense, a duel with a skilled fighter like Wilhelm was not something to turn down.

Moments later, the two headed to the training grounds.

—

The others in Martin’s office also made their way to the training grounds.

Given that they were all invested in the art of the sword, they couldn’t help but feel drawn to the duel between Martin and Wilhelm.

“The one who either surrenders first or sustains a serious injury will be considered the loser. However, neither party shall attempt to kill the other. And Wilhelm, should you show any suspicious behavior, I’ll intervene personally.”

“…No need for threats. I have no intention of doing anything underhanded.”

“We’ll see by the end.”

At Vincent’s words, Wilhelm let out a sigh.

But it was only momentary, as his gaze soon focused solely on Martin in front of him.

Martin fixed his gaze firmly on Wilhelm.

‘The unique ability of the Fezek family is Spatial Transmission.’

Generally, spatial abilities originate from the caster. However, the Fezek family’s Spatial Transmission defied this principle.

They could transport people or objects to any desired location without any prerequisites.

‘In fact, it can even displace others with spatial abilities.’

While one could detect the spatial shift and escape it, if launched mid-battle, it was a troublesome technique to counter.

Still, it required precise coordinates, which complicated calculations and slowed activation compared to other spatial abilities. Not to mention, it consumed an immense amount of mana. Even so, it was a formidable ability.

‘Regardless, he’s a decent opponent.’

Wilhelm was one he could go all out against without holding back.

“Let’s begin, then.”

Swoosh!

Vincent gave the signal to start, and Martin and Wilhelm instantly engaged in spatial movement. Both appeared in the center of the training ground, swords clashing immediately.

Boom!

A powerful shockwave spread out as their aura blades collided. Unfazed, Martin gathered wind energy along his blade, preparing to unleash the First Form of Arelia’s Swordsmanship: The Art of Wind.

He swung his holy sword, Karadyl, relentlessly, as wind surged around him, roaring wildly.

And that wasn’t all.

He gathered wind in his left hand, which quickly transformed into fierce, crimson flames. The fire intertwined with the wind, spreading furiously.

“Unbelievable!”

Christian Havertz, observing Martin, shouted in awe. The flames Martin wielded were powerful, almost as strong as his own, despite Christian’s specialization in fire-based abilities.

“I thought he could only manipulate wind,” Vincent murmured, approaching his daughter Sien, who was refereeing the duel. Since everyone else was watching closely, taking his eyes off the fight briefly wasn’t an issue, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

But Sien herself didn’t have a clear answer and offered only a partial explanation.

“Well… after training in the Tyrant’s Room, he began using fire in the battle with the Bitenfeld family.”

“Hm. He reminds me of the founder of the main family, the only one known to handle such a range of elemental abilities as the Young Lord does.”

“Could it be that a thousand-year-old legend is being revived?”

“Perhaps so.”

Vincent nodded in agreement with his daughter’s words.

They weren’t the only ones impressed. Lucas and Philip also looked at Martin with deep respect.

“How is that even possible? He’s wielding so many diverse powers, yet his swordsmanship remains entirely unaffected.”

“You’re well aware of the Young Lord’s genius. Judging him by our standards would be unwise.”

“True, but… at this rate, he might reach the 8th Circle by the end of the year.”

Despite his disbelief, Lucas continued watching Martin, his heart racing with excitement. He longed to duel Martin himself, curious to see how he’d fare against someone with such a versatile array of powers.

Philip, sharing the same sentiments, trembled with eagerness, his body responding instinctively to the thrill of competition.

‘Elder Aren, Elder Marius… you chose poorly.’

Elder Oriana felt genuine relief, grateful she’d bowed to Martin before facing a harsher fate.

But now, just showing loyalty wouldn’t suffice. It was time to prove her loyalty fully, a step necessary to secure a reward of land from him in the future.

As everyone around contemplated their thoughts about Martin, the duel continued. And, as with any battle, there was eventually an end.

“Hah!”

A shocked Wilhelm involuntarily let out a cry. He’d just used Spatial Transmission to bring Martin in front of him, ready to land a blow, but suddenly, the distance between them widened.

‘Now!’

Martin didn’t miss the opening created by Wilhelm’s moment of confusion.

Wind whipped around at Martin’s command, completely scrambling the coordinates, disrupting Wilhelm’s spatial calculations. Martin then manipulated gravity to immobilize Wilhelm and teleported to his front.

Finally, he drove his left fist, wrapped in flames, forward with all his strength, following the technique of Rothar Martial Art.

Crunch!

“Guh!”

Martin’s fist struck Wilhelm squarely in the stomach, causing him to cough up blood as he dropped to one knee.

“The Young Lord is victorious.”

“Whew.”

At Vincent’s declaration, Martin finally took a steady breath.

‘It’s not quite enough.’

Though satisfied to have used his full strength, it wasn’t enough to propel him further upward.

He looked far off toward the territory of the Gustin family.

‘Will you be different, Mateus von Gustin?’

One of the few to have reached the 8th Circle alongside Vincent, Mateus was someone Martin was looking forward to facing, believing that Mateus would drive him to new heights.

For Martin, this was precisely Mateus’ value.