World of Terror

Stop that, you're scaring the guests," Mother said sharply, her voice cutting through the growing tension in the room.

The two brothers exchanged glances before laughing. "Good to see you, brother," Father said with a warm grin, giving the Duke a firm pat on the shoulder.

The tension eased as the guests slowly returned to their conversations. Father excused himself to change into formal attire. Meanwhile, the lively atmosphere picked up again, filling the hall with soft chatter and children's laughter.

When Father returned, now dressed sharply in his formal coat, he joined the Duke at a nearby table. They spoke in low tones, alternating between laughter and serious conversation that drew curious glances from some of the guests. I stayed close, curious about his conversation with the Duke.

"What brings you here, little brother?" Father asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The northern border attacks have worsened," the Duke replied, his voice steady. "The royal family has requested reinforcements before things spiral further out of control."

Father's expression darkened. "Those annoying lizards are behind this, aren't they?" he said, irritation lacing his words.

"You know we can't openly act against them because of the Pantheon Pact," the Duke replied calmly.

"What about the crazy Northern Duke? What is he up to now?" Father asked, his tone sharp.

Mother, noticing the mood, stepped in. "This isn't the time or place for such discussions," she said, her voice firm but gentle.

I guessed they were speaking about the Hator Empire. From what I'd heard, Valeria and Hator had clashed in small skirmishes over the years but never escalated to full-scale war. Recently, Hator's rapid expansion had destabilized northern regions, giving rise to rebel groups causing chaos along Valeria's borders.

Father gave a small, knowing smile. "It's fine, dear," he said, his tone casual. "But I suspect this isn't the only reason my brother is here, right?"

The Duke's expression turned serious. "You're right," he said, swirling his drink. "Since we're all here, and your child has come of age, I'll get straight to the point. I want your children to come to the main family under my guidance."

Mother froze, her shock evident. I felt a similar jolt of surprise. Father, however, remained calm. "I see," he said evenly.

"You know I can offer them far greater opportunities: power, influence, and the training they'll need for the future," the Duke continued, his voice firm. "Besides," he added with a pointed glance, "you remember what Father said, don't you?"

Father's gaze sharpened, but his tone stayed calm. "I do, but this isn't a decision we can make lightly. We'll need time to consider it."

The Duke nodded, swirling his drink thoughtfully. "Fair enough. I'll wait for your answer."

Before their conversation could continue, a loud, confident voice rang out across the room.

"I challenge Lucian to a friendly duel!"

All heads turned toward the source. Ceil Von Lockewood stood at the center of the hall, his expression smug and his eyes locked on me. The sudden challenge left everyone momentarily stunned.

Father and the Duke exchanged intrigued glances, while Mother looked visibly concerned.

"This isn't the place for a duel," Mother protested. "And Lucian has never even held a sword before!"

Father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Let Lucian decide," he said softly, his gaze turning to me.

I hesitated, caught off guard by Ceil's boldness. What the heck was this about? I hadn't even spoken to him. Was he just some spoiled rich kid trying to show off? Though dueling was common entertainment here, I couldn't figure out his motive.

I cleared my thoughts, stepped forward, and locked eyes with him. "I accept," I said firmly.

Ceil's smirk widened, clearly pleased. "Good," he said simply, turning toward the open space. Guests began to move as murmurs spread through the crowd, some excited, others concerned.

Mother tried to stop me, her voice low and urgent. "Lucian, you don't have to do this. He's trained, and you're—"

"I'll be fine, Mother," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "It's just a kids' fight."

"Don't worry," Ceil said, smirking. "I'll go easy on you."

We were each handed dull gray swords and guided to the center of the hall. The crowd formed a loose circle, their excited murmurs filling the air.

This reminded me of moments from my past life. A situation that, whether I won or lost, could put me at a disadvantage in the future. I needed to think carefully and quickly.

As soon as we assumed our stances, Ceil charged at me with a swift, confident strike. I barely managed to block, but the force of his attack sent me stumbling back. Definitely a trained brat. My untrained, smaller body wouldn't hold up for long if I kept defending like this.

Ceil didn't let up, swinging powerfully as he closed the distance again. I dodged to the side just in time. His strikes were forceful and relentless, his frustration mounting with each missed hit. Using my agility, I ducked and sidestepped, keeping just out of reach.

"Stop dodging!" Ceil shouted, his voice sharp with irritation.

His attacks grew more aggressive, his blade slicing through the air with even greater speed. I kept retreating, weaving around the edge of the hall, all while scanning my surroundings for something or someone.

After creating some distance, I took a steadying breath. Ceil wasn't giving me time to think, and I had to act. I charged at him suddenly, swinging with quick but aimless strikes, hoping to force him onto the defensive.

"That's all you've got?" he sneered, effortlessly parrying my attacks. His confidence was unwavering, his smirk growing wider.

Then, with a sudden kick, he sent me flying backward into the crowd. I crashed against a sturdy table, the impact jarring but not serious enough. My sword slipped from my grip and clattered to the ground.

Ceil approached me slowly, his expression brimming with arrogance. "Ready to surrender?" he asked, towering over me.

I pushed myself up and grinned, despite the ache in my ribs. "Not a chance."

Ceil scoffed and charged again, certain of his victory. His blade gleamed as he closed the distance, but I had been waiting for this moment. As he lunged, I crouched low and stepped in, grabbing his collar with all the strength I could muster. Using his momentum against him, I twisted and shoved him forward with all my weight.

Ceil stumbled toward another table where Belle sat, calmly eating her dessert as if the duel were happening in a completely different world.

I fell back against the table behind me, feigning unconsciousness for added effect, while Ceil was thrown directly toward Belle.

Belle barely looked up. Without a hint of concern, she raised her fist and delivered a perfect punch to Ceil's face. The blow sent him crashing to the floor, toppling chairs and scattering food from the table.

The room went silent, every guest frozen in place as they processed what had just happened. Ceil lay sprawled on the ground, dazed and struggling to stay conscious. Before the darkness took him, he muttered one word: "Angel."

Belle, however, didn't even blink. She frowned at him briefly, brushing crumbs from her dress. "How rude," she said simply, before returning to her pastry as though nothing had happened.

For a moment, the hall remained awkwardly quiet. Then, the Duke's hearty laughter rang out, breaking the tension. His booming voice carried across the room as he turned to my father, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, that was unexpected."

The crowd relaxed, laughter and chatter gradually filling the space again. Some guests even clapped, clearly entertained by the duel's unexpected conclusion.

Meanwhile, Mother hurried over to Ceil, kneeling by his side to check on him. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. Then, she turned to Belle, her tone sharp. "What were you thinking?"

Belle shrugged nonchalantly, wiping her hands on a napkin. "He was coming at me. It's Lucy's fault," she replied casually.

A few minutes later, I stood and brushed dust from my coat as the celebration picked up again. Children clustered around me, buzzing about the duel with admiring eyes, and I managed a tired smile despite the ache in my side. Nearby parents smiled too, subtly nudging their daughters forward in hopes of introductions.

When the music swelled, Mary took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. She moved with effortless grace, her cheerful laughter bright in the crowd. "Not bad for someone who just got thrown into a table," she teased, eyes dancing.

I grinned. "I guess I just got lucky."

"Lucky? I saw you out there dodging like your life depended on it," she said with a laugh. "Maybe you're a better fighter than you think."

"Maybe," I replied, grinning.

The dance was brief but enjoyable, leaving me feeling a little more at ease. Stepping away, I took a moment to look around the hall.

As I watched, Mother slipped up beside me and offered a quick squeeze to my shoulder. "You did well tonight," she said softly.

"Thanks, Mom," I replied, returning her warm smile.

"Keep your head up," she added. "There's more to come."

I let her words settle as I glanced around. All around me, merchants, nobles, and important people talked quietly, making connections. The night was far from over, and I planned to take every opportunity to be seen.