“Ha.”
A dry laugh escaped from Ivar’s mouth.
That it wasn’t an excuse but genuine praise for a woman like that was absurd—and at the same time, a perfect opportunity to crush Lucian.
Without realizing it, his shoulders trembled with excitement.
“Words that are spoken cannot be taken back.”
“If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have said them.”
“Good!”
Ivar sprang to his feet, slamming the table with such force that it thundered.
Leaving no room for anyone to intervene, he proclaimed in a booming voice.
“Descendants of the dragon, listen! I, who inherited the purest blood, have led the tribe! But the years have turned my hair white and bent my back!”
“…!”
“Now that I am old and weakened, it is difficult for me to bear the duty of the dragon! Therefore, I will entrust the future to a suitable successor! Are you prepared to shoulder this heavy duty?!”
The holders of the right of succession, except for Lucian, rose in unison and bowed their heads.
It seemed like a rite that didn’t even require an answer.
Ivar frowned slightly when he saw Lucian remain motionless, but soon formed a strange smile and continued.
“…Good! I have seen your determination! But whoever wishes to shoulder this duty must demonstrate the corresponding ability in three trials!”
The warriors present swallowed.
By invoking the tradition for choosing the next chief, it was clear he would impose the trials right there.
Depending on the content, there would be those who benefited and those who didn’t, so tension was inevitable. With all eyes focused on him, Ivar announced the first trial.
“Whoever aspires to be chief must show the strength of the warriors who serve him! Show how great is the vessel capable of housing a great warrior!”
At the proclamation, the warriors’ gazes turned to Lucian.
The content was familiar, a trial often used in the past.
The problem was the declaration Lucian had just made.
If he brought out anyone other than the woman, he would become the laughingstock; and if he brought her out and someone managed to withstand even a single blow, Lucian would have to hand over his head according to his vow.
‘It’s over.’
The warriors mocked Lucian’s blunder inwardly.
Now he could only withdraw from the trial and remain a mere spectator. But, contrary to their expectations, Lucian smiled and said.
“It’s not a bad idea. Subordinates are the face of a ruler. By seeing the ability of the subordinates, one can know that of the ruler.”
“…?”
At his relaxed tone, the warriors blinked in disbelief.
Did he really intend to face the trial with just one woman? Seeing their doubts, Lucian drove the point home.
“Very well, I’ll play along. Just be careful. My guard is not as lenient as I am.”
***
— The foreigner presented a woman as his warrior!
— They say he’ll send her to fight other warriors!
What happened at the banquet spread through the tribe in an instant.
To be precise, the warriors present broadcast it without restraint.
They wanted to display Lucian’s disgrace, but more than that, it was so shocking they couldn’t keep it to themselves.
“A woman warrior? What kind of nonsense is that?”
“How would I know? In foreign lands it seems that’s allowed.”
“He’s insane! A king who hides behind a woman?”
“Could it be that the prophecy was wrong?”
“Prophecy or whatever, I don’t acknowledge a king like that!”
The tribe stirred at an act that overturned all tradition and common sense.
The gazes that had once been filled with curiosity and fear began to be tinged with hostility.
For Ivar and the other competitors, the outcome was perfect.
But Lucian and his group didn’t care in the slightest. The only exception was Gunstein, who only then learned that Felicia was a warrior.
“My lord! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”
“Did I hide it? You saw her several times with a sword at her waist.”
“I thought it was just for self-defense! We also give that equipment for protection in case of emergencies!”
“I’m glad you know now. From now on, if something seems strange, ask immediately.”
“No, my lord, that’s not what I meant…!”
“Your Highness.”
The voice beside him made Gunstein flinch. When he turned, he saw that Felicia had already approached and was kneeling with composure before Lucian.
‘I didn’t sense her presence at all… when did she…?’
Ignoring the confused Gunstein, Felicia asked.
“To what extent do you wish me to go?”
“How far do you want to go?”
“Either option is fine. The objective remains the same.”
“Then do it at your discretion. In this land, duels are usually to the death, so act as you see fit.”
“Understood. I will adjust the intensity according to the situation.”
“…?”
Gunstein shifted his gaze between the two, completely bewildered. Since the subject wasn’t mentioned, he didn’t understand what they were talking about.
“My lord, what does all this mean? Adjust what exactly?”
Lucian smiled wryly and replied.
“Well, how badly Felicia is going to wreck her opponents.”
“…!?”
***
The next morning, every member of the tribe gathered without exception beneath the chief’s residence.
It was there that all duels personally overseen by the chief were always held.
Ainar, who had arrived a bit earlier than the others, looked around and murmured,
“He seemed to have some backbone… I guess I was wrong about him. Was he just someone with a silver tongue?”
“Are you referring to that foreigner?”
One of his subordinates asked.
“Who else? He made a fatal mistake and still couldn’t give up on his ambition. Walking straight into his own grave…”
Ainar clicked his tongue at the question.
If he trusted his guard that much—even if she was a woman—maybe he wasn’t entirely useless.
Maybe she had trained again and again until she reached a level worthy of being called a warrior.
But still, defeating everyone in a single blow?
‘Even if she were fighting opponents one or two levels below her, under those conditions, it’s impossible.’
If she focused everything into the first attack, maybe it would work once or twice.
But repeating the same method again and again meant the enemy would eventually figure it out.
By the third opponent, they’d have countermeasures.
The fourth would find her weakness.
By the fifth or sixth, it wouldn’t work at all.
Unless she changed her fighting style each time—something impossible if she also had to win with one hit.
“Putting too much trust in a subordinate ended up being a noose around his own neck?”
“Trust? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just an idiot. A coward hiding behind a woman, now paying the price.”
The one who spoke mockingly was Gormsen, another contender and Ainar’s half-brother.
Unlike the disappointed Ainar, he seemed eager to see Lucian’s head roll as soon as possible.
“Better this way. At least the sons of the dragon won’t end up under the rule of a foreigner. My father will finally be able to rest easy.”
“On the other hand, the Guide’s authority will crumble. The moment the prophecy fails, the trust he’s built up over decades will collapse.”
“Now you’re worried about that old man? The same one who always got in the chief’s way?”
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks deep down. His ability is needed in this land. Don’t let power blind you to what’s truly important.”
The gazes of the two brothers clashed midair.
It wasn’t unusual for them to end up arguing every time they talked.
Normally they would have exchanged more harsh words, but this time—unexpectedly—it was Gormsen who withdrew first.
“Bah, enough. You irritate me, but we can’t keep fighting each other when there’s a foreigner meddling. Let’s take that guy down first.”
‘…So united, yet they stood back and watched as Brunda was nearly crippled?’
Ainar swallowed the words rising in his throat.
At the very least, he could understand their refusal to hand the position of chief to an outsider.
It was then that—
“The king—no, the foreigner is here!”
“The chief has arrived!”
It wasn’t long before shouts rang out from both sides.
Lucian and Ivar appeared almost simultaneously, as if coordinated, drawing every eye.
For Ivar, it could’ve been humiliating, but his expression remained completely calm.
“Looks like everyone’s here. Then there’s no need to drag this out.”
Even with the whole tribe watching, Ivar started the trial without fanfare or flowery speeches.
Then he glanced sideways at Lucian and said,
“Foreigner. Will you stand by the words you spoke yesterday?”
“Of course. She will fight as my warrior.”
Lucian responded without hesitation and tilted his head slightly.
At the same time, Felicia, who had remained behind until now, stepped forward.
When it was confirmed that a woman really would be participating as a warrior, murmurs rippled through the tribe.
“It’s true…? He really sent out a woman!”
“What in the world is that guy thinking?”
“He said he’d give up his head if she didn’t win even once…”
“Well, gotta admit—he’s got guts.”
At the murmurs, Ivar’s smile deepened.
No matter how skilled she was, for a woman to declare herself a warrior flew directly in the face of tundra law.
Even if she passed the trial, the people’s revulsion wouldn’t vanish.
Without hiding his smirk, Ivar looked over his sons.
“Which of you will go first? Who will show a warrior worthy of boasting?”
“I’ll take the first step.”
The one who stepped forward without the slightest hesitation was Gormsen.
More precisely, it was Strad—his right-hand man and maternal uncle.
A veteran warrior who had chosen to serve his nephew to help him become chief.
He was among the ten strongest warriors of the tribe—a choice no one could question.
“Good! Then, warriors—fight! Show your strength and reveal the worth of the lord you serve!”
Despite Ivar’s booming voice, no member of the tribe responded with excitement.
To them, this wasn’t a duel between warriors—it was a fight between a warrior and a woman.
It wasn’t thrilling, but uncomfortable.
It wasn’t awe-inspiring, but unsettling.
Amid the silence, Strad spoke with a displeased look.
“Woman, don’t hold a grudge. All this is your lord’s recklessness.”
“Are you still alive?”
“What…?”
“It’s over. Stop talking and die.”
“What nonsense are yo—?”
Strad frowned at the incomprehensible words—then felt something wet on his neck.
He instinctively reached up—
Thick blood began to drip onto his hand.
Only then did he realize a long gash had opened across his throat.
“Grrhh—”
His voice hissed through his throat like a whistle.
The wound spread, wrapping around his entire neck.
And the moment Strad could no longer utter a sound—
His severed head dropped to the ground with a dull thud.
“……”
“……”
The onlookers blinked, unable to process the surreal scene.
What had just happened?
There had been no clash of blades, and yet—a head had rolled.
As everyone remained stunned, Felicia spoke calmly.
“Next?”
____
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