There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

Disciple (4)

Leig felt an odd sense of dissonance as he looked at Diela, who had taken her place on the platform.

What kind of person was this girl named Diela?

Self-centered, immature, thoughtless—a complete brat.

She was such a troublemaker that it wouldn’t be a loss if she were thrown out of the Duplain household. The memory of her spewing insults and harming the servants Leig cherished still flickered before his eyes.

But now, standing straight on the platform, looking at Leig, there was no trace of her frivolous behavior.

Underneath the robe she wore, her gaze at Leig was calm, tinged with carefulness and a hint of tension.

‘…Has she really come to win?’

Leig pressed down on his forearms and looked up at the terrace where the Grand Duke Duplain sat, watching from the mansion with the lady, his eyes unflinching.

‘I must end this quickly, regardless.’

The servant in charge of mediation stood upright on the platform.

Leigh ascended to the podium and quietly gazed at Diella, remarking,

“I thought you’d be plotting your escape, terrorizing the servants with that frightened look on your face. But you’re full of surprises.”

Leigh’s noble attire was more active than Valerian’s. Rolling up his sleeves and dusting off his hands, the veins running up his forearms were strikingly visible. Before he was a magician, he was a robust young man.

It was hard to imagine Diella, lacking both magical prowess and physical strength, defeating Leigh. His mind was set on a swift and decisive victory.

“Please finish the preparations for the duel. We’ll apply the advanced magician duel rules of the Ebelstein Kelbrem Salon, where the loss is determined by whose protective magic circle activates first,” Leigh declared.

The head butler, Delron, recited the basic terms from the podium. The Kelbrem Salon’s duel rules were already the most common among the nobility’s magical duels. There was no need to recite them; both participants knew them well.

With that, Delron closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and announced,

“Begin.”

At the start declaration, Leigh swiftly raised his arm. A tense string seemed to snap, and a fighting spirit momentarily flared in his eyes.

Each duelist began with an amulet engraved with a protective magic circle by a senior magician.

The ‘Protective Engraving,’ a protective magic circle of at least three stars, would automatically activate just before the wearer suffered significant harm, neutralizing the opponent’s magic and then disappearing. In essence, its activation meant the wearer had suffered a significant blow, thus confirming their defeat.

The protective magic circle lasted about ten minutes from the moment it was worn. If the duel didn’t conclude within ten minutes, it would be a draw.

Naturally, Leigh had no intention of even allowing a draw, so he focused his mind.

Against someone as sluggish as Diella, a proper first-grade spell would trigger her protective magic circle.

Leigh gathered magical power in his hand and began the incantation.

“O wind that sweeps the meadows and cleaves the earth…”

Although Leigh began his incantation with his arm raised, Diella stood still, glaring at him.

One of the keys to a magical duel was the speed of the incantation.

If they started the duel at a distance, the one who finished the incantation first had the advantage.

To counter with magic, it was crucial to start the incantation quickly, but Diella still stood, her robe billowing, glaring at Leigh.

‘Has fear paralyzed her?’

Leigh smirked, ready to unleash the first-grade spell ‘Blade of Wind’ from his fingertips.

The thought of the duel ending too easily brought a tinge of disappointment. Leigh was not the kind of person to go easy on Diella.

The wind-formed blade flew towards Diella.

He was filled with the thought of activating her protective magic circle immediately and confining her back to the annex.

– Whoosh!

Just then, Diella crouched and darted to the side.

Her robe fluttered, and glimpses of her golden hair could be seen through the fabric.

It was a nimble movement rarely seen from Diella.

Yet, she was still the girl confined to the annex. No matter how agile, there were limits to her movement.

“Stop right there!”

With gritted teeth, Raeg unleashed his magic, altering the course of the wind blade.

The redirected wind blade soared towards Diela, but it did not strike her directly.

– Whoosh!

– Crack! Snap!

A pillar of ice surged from the ground, blocking the path of the wind blade.

Normally, such a basic ice wall, merely imbued with elemental magic, could not withstand the force of a first-class spell.

Yet, by constantly changing direction, it forced the opponent to alter their attack trajectory. The twisted and bent flow of magic during use was bound to be halved in power compared to a direct chant.

Raeg furrowed his brow.

Diela knew that the more complex and varied the trajectory of the magic, the harder it was to control its power, and the weaker it became.

It was a kind of instinctual knowledge that one could only understand through direct manipulation of magic.

Having practiced magic manifestation with Derek to the point of exhaustion, Diela had now honed her sense of magic flow to rival Raeg’s.

‘So the training wasn’t for naught after all.’

Standing his ground, Raeg began to chant again, this time planning to unleash three consecutive wind blades, his specialty.

If she intended to flit about, disrupting his control of magic, then cutting off her retreat would suffice.

As the next spell seemed imminent, Diela dashed to the side, clenching her teeth.

– “Listen well, Miss Diela. A mercenary’s combat skills differ from those of nobility. We don’t particularly value fair play as a virtue; our focus is solely on victory.”

– “The honorable triumph you might imagine in a typical magical duel is far from what you’ll find here. You may win, but not necessarily earn recognition.”

Before stepping onto the platform, Derek had said, looking down at Diela with his fiery red eyes.

– “Nevertheless, you can still achieve a victorious outcome. Your opponent may be a first-class mage, but they lack extreme real combat experience.”

The dueling techniques of mercenaries, where a slight misstep could lead to death, were worlds apart from the life Diela had lived.

Even if Derek tried to impart his knowledge, it was unlikely that Diela, who had lived as a noble lady, could absorb it instantly.

Therefore, Derek conveyed only the basic principles to her.

It was merely knowledge passed by word of mouth.

Meaningful learning effects are improbable when the practical knowledge of someone who has stood at the crossroads of life and death on the battlefield is transmitted just a few times verbally.

Yet, Derek’s advice always had a way of striking at vulnerabilities.

It encompassed elements of real combat that weren’t even considered in the dignified magical duels of the nobility.

Controlling the battlefield and utilizing the environment. Starting with basic cover tactics using terrain and other features, drawing out the opponent’s carelessness, conserving one’s own magic while wasting the opponent’s, and skillfully deflecting powerful spells.

While knowledge heard is limited in application, if the opponent adheres to the noble etiquette of fair play, Diela had many options to choose from.

– Bang!

– Whoosh!

With a surge of magic, Diella conjured several more pillars of ice.

Still a novice, Diella felt a throbbing in her head from the effort, but soon she was darting between the pillars, using them as cover.

Derrick spoke to Diella:

“Controlling the battlefield is the most basic element of victory in a duel. Fighting in an open meadow, in a dark forest, or in a complex cityscape—none are the same.”

Diella intended to make the battlefield as complex as possible, to draw out all sorts of variables.

In a duel where activating the opponent’s protective magic circle even once could mean victory, piercing their guard just once could lead to triumph.

Diella was a mage of the wild school by birth.

Even when she couldn’t use magic, even when she was in that dark forest, running from Derrick who pursued her, she tried to strike from behind, using the environment to her advantage.

The darkness of the forest, the cover of the underbrush, clutching a rock with trembling hands, trying somehow to overcome Derrick—that memory was still etched in her mind.

– Boom! Bang!

As she evaded Leig’s magic once more, circling the edge of the platform, part of the outskirts crumbled, and smoke billowed up.

Diella leaped down towards the collapsed side of the platform and plunged into the empty space beneath it.

‘According to the rules of Kelbrem Salon, stepping outside the platform’s wall means defeat…!’

Leig gritted his teeth and scattered the smoke, thinking.

‘So that’s it…! The empty space beneath the platform isn’t outside the wall…!’

Leig was about to get angry at such a makeshift rule interpretation, but he couldn’t deny it.

The rules of the Kelbrem Salon’s advanced mage duel did not consider the possibility that the opponent would cowardly run away and use the space beneath the platform for cover.

There was no precedent for such a frivolous character infiltrating the dusty space beneath the platform to dodge an opponent’s magic in the noble’s magic duel, filled with a sense of authority.

– Ratatatat!

In that moment, several ice pillars shot up beside Leig.

Diella, who had jumped beneath the platform, had manifested her magic in the location where Leig was likely to be.

– Crack! Crunch!

The ice pillars that rose from beneath the wooden platform were clearly aimed at Leig.

If a single strike could secure victory, then attacking unilaterally from outside the opponent’s field of vision was the most certain method Derrick had conceived.

The nobles seek an honorable victory.

They draw out their magic with dignity, showcasing their skills, revealing the fruits of their training to the public in the Salon’s magical duels, where the sharp, deadly reality of actual combat is not at all considered.

In a real battle where the goal is to kill the opponent, fairness is never a virtue.

An environment that allows one to pummel the opponent unilaterally is the ideal battlefield for mercenaries.

– Fssht!

“Damn it…!”

Leig quickly dashed towards the center of the podium.

It was impossible to pinpoint Diela’s position as she scurried below the podium. Magic cannot be aimed at someone whose whereabouts are unknown.

The battlefield was tilted. Leig had to dodge and weave until Diela, exhausted, would fall.

In truth, the solution was simple.

Plunge into the dust-filled podium below, and the fight could begin anew on equal footing.

If there is an opponent who induces a chaotic brawl in the mud, one must be prepared to jump into that mire as well.

If Diela has cast aside the noble etiquette of magical duels in her obsession with victory, then Leig must adapt and respond in kind.

Leig steeled his resolve to leap down into the dusty podium below. If the opponent resorts to such tactics, he too must be willing to get dirty.

It was when he headed towards the podium, recently shattered by the blade of the wind.

– Crackle

“…!”

The broken side of the podium was encased in ice, conjured by magic.

He had swiftly seized the advantageous ground of the battlefield and blocked the opponent’s entry.

“This… b*stard…!”

Leig once again manifested magic in his hand.

Creating a new entrance to the podium below was a trivial matter. Breaking a wooden podium was child’s play for him.

– Snap!

However, as Leig tried to manifest his power, Diela’s attacks flew in from below the podium.

Unlike Leig’s attacks, Diela’s narrower assaults did not make large holes in the podium.

But a direct hit from the incoming magic would trigger the protective magic circle. In the world of magical duels, that could decide the outcome.

– Snap! Crash! Crash!

Every time Leig tried to break the podium to catch Diela, endless interference came.

Diela below could not pinpoint the exact position of her opponent either, but she could roughly infer it using the flow of magic or the sound of footsteps.

This difference was significant.

She continuously aimed for the moment Leig manifested his power to break the podium. At least when Leig’s position was certain, she could attack completely one-sidedly.

She had no intention of giving up the tilted battlefield’s advantage. Fairness in the combat skills of a mercenary was a luxury.

Diela’s figure, covered in dust, could be glimpsed through the ice pillars that had burst through the podium.

Leig’s eyes met Diela’s below the podium. No flicker of emotion stirred in those eyes.

Even amidst battle, that cool gaze maintained its composure, a look he seemed to recognize from somewhere.

It was the gaze of that mercenary-born master, unchanging in emotion even as Valerian gripped him by the collar.

Those endlessly cold eyes, always seeking to make a rational judgment, regardless of the situation.

Only then did Leig realize.

That tiny girl couldn’t possibly have come up with the idea to dominate the battlefield all on her own.

Without a doubt, it was the influence of that white-haired master.

“This brat…!”

– Crack! Crunch!

Leig once again summoned his magic, manifesting arrows of magical energy. He shattered every rising pillar of ice that dared approach him.

Leig clenched his teeth. If his opponent had discarded all notions of duel etiquette and moved solely for victory, he had no choice but to adopt a stance worthy of the challenge.

*

“What… What is that…! Covered in dust… Diela…!”

Miriella, who had been watching the duel from the terrace, gasped in shock. This scene was far removed from the genteel magic duels of the nobility.

Miriella quickly grabbed the hem of her skirt, intending to dash down from the terrace. She couldn’t just stand by and watch, but Duke Duplain stopped her with a stern voice.

“Let the duel run its course.”

“You..!”

He walked up to the terrace railing, resting his arms and quietly observing the platform below.

The servants, too, showed clear signs of distress beneath the dust-filled landscape.

The nobility’s retainers seemed unable to adapt to the situation, but Duke Duplain, who had crossed battlefields numerous times in his youth, showed no sign of surprise.

He simply leaned on his chin and watched the duel unfold quietly.