"Blake, as long as you're alive, how could anything possibly happen to me?"
Lane sneered with disdain.
The newcomer was called Blake Lionheart, someone who had trained alongside Lane at the Royal Capital Knight Academy, and who had always been stuck as the eternal runner-up.
As for who was number one in the academy, of course, that was Lane. Although his grade 4 aptitude had destined his future to peak at stage 4, aptitude only determined one's ceiling; it was up to each person's effort to decide their floor.
Having lived two lives, Lane benefited from a modern education and the vast amount of information he absorbed daily, which allowed him to stand out among his peers and become the academy's brightest star. This, in turn, fueled Blake's jealousy, making him Lane's lifelong adversary.
That jealousy eventually turned to hatred. When Blake found out that Lane's Knight of the Heart had shattered, he was the first to kick Lane while he was down. Had he been present at the time, he would have mocked Lane mercilessly.
It was said that after hearing about Lane's Knight of the Heart shattering, Blake even threw a banquet, inviting several noble guests, just to celebrate Lane's misfortune.
Now that these two enemies met face-to-face, sparks immediately flew.
Blake couldn't say anything nice: "Are these knight's tools? Tsk tsk, still clinging to your knightly dreams?"
"A lowborn will always be a lowborn. Even if your Knight of the Heart hadn't shattered, you'd still be beneath our feet—let alone now."
"No, these things of yours..." Blake narrowed his eyes, smirking, "look like they're made for children. What, did some farm girl take a liking to you, a commoner, and give birth to a bastard?"
Blake spat out "lowborn" with every other word, tossing such insults around the street without a care, drawing the attention of quite a few passersby.
But when people turned their heads and saw who it was, they instinctively looked away, as if afraid Blake would notice them.
It wasn't Blake they feared, but the huge lion crest engraved on his shining silver armor.
The Lionheart Family—one of the empire's Four Great Houses. Most of the kingdom's best knights came from there. In this remote Ironforge, a name as weighty as the Lionheart Family was enough to crush anyone.
In this situation, even if the insults weren't aimed at them, even if someone pointed right at their noses and cursed them out, they'd still have to plaster on a smile and even praise Blake for how well he insulted them.
But Lane wasn't about to let Blake get away with it.
"You were just like this in the training camp—other than that foul mouth of yours, you couldn't do anything right."
"Blake Lionheart? Just a minor branch of the family. I wonder where he gets the nerve to bark at me like a dog here. Wasn't the beating in the training camp enough for you?"
"You—!"
Blake's face turned red in an instant.
Lies never hurt anyone, but the truth is a sharp blade. Everything Lane said was the cold, hard truth. Blake had never been favored in the Lionheart Family, which was exactly why he got sent to the knight training camp.
And in that camp, through all sorts of drills and sparring matches, Blake's win rate against Lane was exactly zero. In other words, he'd never beaten Lane, not even once.
Being humiliated by Lane like this, and in front of a crowd no less, Blake couldn't keep up the act. He shouted, "Lane, since you dare insult me like this, do you have the guts to face me in a knight's duel?"
That roar brought total silence to everyone around.
Those weren't words to be thrown around lightly.
A duel between knights meant no outside interference—if even the direct heir of the Lionheart Family was killed by a beggar in a knight's duel, the family had no right to seek revenge.
This was a war of honor between knights, something sacred that could not be profaned.
A duel could be refused, but once word got out, gossip alone could crush the challenger's Knight of the Heart.
Once a duel was declared, it was pretty much a fight to the death.
"You sure about that?"
Lane sneered, his eyes turning ice cold.
A knight's duel wasn't child's play. If he hadn't had the Breeder's Gift to repair his Knight of the Heart, there'd only be one outcome for him in this battle—death. He had no illusions that Blake would let him walk away.
Blake shot back with a cold smile, "Of course. What, are you scared?"
"Cheap provocation." Lane shrugged at Blake. "But if you're so eager to die, I'll help you out."
As soon as the words left his mouth, both men's auras burst forth. The people around them could feel the pressure and instinctively stepped aside, clearing space for the duel.
"Hey, is Lane out of his mind? Didn't they say his Knight of the Heart is already shattered? And he still dares go up against Blake? Lord Blake's a stage three knight!"
"He's just too proud for his own good. He's used to being called 'Sir Knight' all the time—no way can he stomach this kind of humiliation. For guys like him, even if it kills them, they'd rather die than let others talk behind their backs. I've seen plenty of fools like this!"
"Yeah, it's just a shame, honestly. Throwing away your life just for pride—is it really worth it?"
The crowd buzzed with conversation, but not one of them believed Lane could win this duel.
On the one hand, you had a full-fledged stage three knight of the Lionheart Family. On the other, just some nobody knight with a shattered Knight of the Heart. You didn't need to be a genius to guess the outcome.
Blake, meanwhile, was loving every bit of the respect being thrown his way.
He bared his teeth in a nasty grin, staring at Lane. "We were classmates, after all. If you end up dying here, I might actually feel a little sad."
"How about this—get on your knees, kowtow three times, call me Grandpa Blake, and crawl under my crotch. Do that, and I'll spare your life. What do you say? It's a pretty sweet deal, isn't it?"
Lane let out a cold laugh. "That's your last words? Gotta say, that's pretty original."
As he spoke, he pulled out a gentleman's cane from his purchases and held it in his hand, calmly watching Blake standing before him.
"This is your weapon?" Blake scoffed, actually laughing. "Looks like the shattering of Knight of the Heart made you just as brainless."
"It's more than enough to kill you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Blake raised his own Silver longsword and charged straight at Lane.
"Way too slow."
Lane shook his head, tracking the path Blake took as he rushed forward.
After repairing the Knight of the Heart, Lane's raw power had already surpassed Blake's. On top of that, the feedback from three years of training made his senses even sharper and more experienced. To Lane, Blake's movements were riddled with openings.
"Boring."
Lane raised the cane in his hand, channeling his knight's aura into it. The dense energy gathered at the tip, transforming into a sharp blade. With a flick of Lane's wrist, it swung toward Blake's neck.
"Silver-tier: Quick Slash!"
The name was plain enough, but this was a genuine Silver-tier Skill. The cane sliced through the air—Blake didn't even have time to dodge before the energy blade tore right through his chest.
"Schlick—"
The sharp weapon bit into flesh. Blake's ornate armor might as well have been made of paper—it was sliced open easily by Lane. The wound was deep enough to expose bone, and hot blood gushed out, splattering across the ground.
"No way…"
Blake's voice trembled, but the sudden chill in his body quickly made him realize death was closing in. "Spare me, Lord Lane, I was wrong, I swear I was wrong."
"If you let me go, I'll do anything—money, I've got plenty, all the knight resources you could want…"
Lane looked on, expression calm, at the babbling Blake begging for his life, and sneered. "You don't regret anything—you just know you're about to die."
As soon as he finished speaking, the sharp cane pierced Blake's heart, putting a full stop to his life.
With that done, Lane flicked the blood from his cane and walked away without looking back.
Only after Lane left did the bystanders dare to breathe again. They exchanged glances, all equally clueless as to what had just happened.
Blake, a knight of the Lionheart Family, just got one-shotted by some unknown country knight?
No, not even one-shotted—the knight called Lane didn't even use a real sword.
"Who the hell is this Lane, anyway?"