Eli, still holding back the resistant youngest knight, dragged him away. The hilt of the sword at his waist clattered against Odysseus’s foot.
The robed man’s eyes briefly fixated on the spot.
“A knight?”
Eli’s eyebrows rose at the man’s poised tone.
“Is there a problem?”
For the first time, he faced the man’s face.
Removing his hood, the man replied, “We’re the same.”
The man, revealing a gentle-looking middle-aged knight’s face, had a scar running across one end of his eyebrow – the only rough part on his face. His brown hair, covering half his forehead, was streaked with gray, indicative of his years.
Though the fervor of his youth had faded, his eyes shone briefly like a calm lake.
“How about a duel near the coast? For a high-ranking knight, settling differences with a sword is best.”
Look at that.
Eli lifted the corners of his mouth with an interested snort.
The two groups of knights halted at a bay surrounded by vast rocky outcrops.
Finding a relatively flat spot, the middle-aged knight suggested, “This looks good. What do you think?”
“Anywhere is fine with me.”
“Then let’s meet here shortly.”
The two groups separated, and the knights, each taking about ten steps away, faced each other in the space that became their dueling ground.
“Go for it, Captain!”
Odysseus, craning his neck behind Eli, waved his arms and shouted encouragement.
Instead of responding to the enthusiastic support, Eli simply jerked his chin forward.
“Stop blabbering and get going.”
“Me? I should go?”
“Should I go, already suffering a hangover, feeling like my head is about to split open, while leaving behind a young and vigorous guy unscathed?”
“You don’t seem to have trouble speaking without breathing, so I guess you’re fine.”
“Should I smash your head too?”
“No, thank you!”
Odysseus, who had yelled out robustly, strode forward but then stopped abruptly, looking back.
“But it seems like the other side is showing consideration for the young rather than respecting the elderly.”
The representative from the other group was the middle-aged knight.
Eli tapped Odysseus’s head with his sheath and gestured him to go on.
“Don’t you know that a knot one ties oneself must be untied by oneself?”
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind!”
Following another roar-like response, the two knights finally faced each other.
After a brief formal greeting, the sound of swords being drawn echoed.
The middle-aged knight, circling slowly without dropping his guard, asked, “What group are you with?”
“Uh… currently working for a trading company.”
“A mercenary?”
“Could be considered as… ”
Clang!
Their swords clashed sharply.
Odysseus, with quick reflexes, parried the sudden strike. The middle-aged knight remarked with a tone of mild surprise, “Quite skillful for an average knight from a trading company.”
“We have a lot to protect, too.”
As Odysseus launched another attack, he quickly aimed for the knight’s flank.
“A sword listens best to those in dire need.”
The knight chuckled briefly at the response filled with determination. Dozens of exchanges followed.
The quiet coast was filled with the unceasing sound of clashing steel. The fight, longer than expected, heightened the focus of both groups.
And when a faint smile appeared on Eli’s lips.
Crack!
Odysseus, maintaining the clashing swords, struck the knight’s abdomen with the hilt.
The knight coughed dryly, stepping back. As he gripped his sword again, blue veins popped on his forearm.
Dozens more exchanges occurred, with the tide gradually turning in Odysseus’s favor.
Using his swift agility, he pressed the knight. The knight’s heels began to give way, proving age does matter.
Finally, a decisive strike was delivered. Odysseus sensed victory.
Clang!
The next moment, a sword rolled across the rock, ownerless. Odysseus, panting heavily, blinked slowly.
‘Impossible.’
The sword on the ground was his own.
The knight, catching his breath, sheathed his sword, signaling the end.
“That was fun.”
Odysseus, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events, stood agape.
Eli, who had been observing from behind, internally admired the knight’s movement.
It wasn’t a grand technique but a simple, effective feint.
In a duel where there was no overwhelming difference in weight class, losing control could lead to defeat.
But he had smoothly diverted the force and immediately counterattacked. The flow was flexible yet decisive, leaving no room for escape.
‘A remarkable move. It’s like… what should I say…’
It seemed less like fighting and more like a skill for survival.
Not a technique to break through barriers, but a tact to overcome them.
After paying his respects to the middle-aged knight, Eli grabbed the still dazed youngest knight by the scruff and dragged him away.
“Let’s go. We’ve got to find the one who didn’t come back last night; we’re busy.”
Being of an age where even broken bones heal quickly after a few days of rest, fortunately, Odysseus recovered fast. He rubbed his sore neck, grumbling about Eli’s usual slacking off. “You always say that, but if Sir Cedric saw you-”
“That’s why we’re moving just among ourselves. Why, don’t you like it?”
“No. I was actually going to suggest we keep it this way.”
Eli ruffled Odysseus’s sweat-drenched red hair and slung an arm over his shoulder. Then, he casually dropped a word.
“Well done.”
A broad smile finally spread across Odysseus’s face.
“I’ll do even better next time.”
They were followed by the constantly silent knight and the one wearing glasses.
Meanwhile, the middle-aged knight sat heavily on the rock, gazing at the distant horizon. His companions gathered around him. A light touch landed on his shoulder, cooled by the sea breeze.
“If it hadn’t been for the lady, you would have lost.”
“Indeed. Age is catching up with me; I’m not what I used to be.”
“You’re still more vigorous than me.”
“Flattery won’t get you anything.”
“I mean it.”
The young knight sat down beside him, folding his knees and chuckled lightly.
The middle-aged knight also laughed heartily. His gaze then caught a billowing sail in the distance, a bright red that reminded him of someone. Since crossing swords with the young redhead, he’d been thinking of someone who had borrowed his techniques.
Helena, the living ghost of Evergale.
That was how Walter Argyle thought of Helena.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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