The Chartra training hall was a dream location where any warrior would want to stand at least once.
It wasn’t merely because of the name value of Chartra.
The excellent instructors fostered by Chartra, the archives that collected and recorded all swordsmanship techniques of the Empire, the environment where both magic and swordsmanship could be trained—among other things.
To the warriors of the Empire, the Chartra training hall was a renowned place where swordsmanship, magic, and theory could all be trained at once.
Of course, none of that applied to Blaiher.
He had an eye for weapons, but he had neither experience nor interest in wielding them.
‘To evaluate pure martial prowess, of all things.’
It wasn’t exactly the wrong method. The first Emperor, Aslan Kruber, had been a conqueror and fought endlessly to become the ruler of the Black Continent.
So it was only natural for martial strength to be part of what defined the Emperor’s qualifications.
He just didn’t expect that to be the only thing they would look at.
Had he known, he might have swung a sword instead of spending time in the Strategy Division learning politics and economics.
“The rule is simple. If Til Chartra moves even a single step or if an attack succeeds within an hour, it’s Blaiher’s victory. If time runs out, he loses. Understood?”
Werner Chartra’s voice rang out thunderously from the edge of the empty training hall.
Seeing that he even brought his youngest daughter and second son made Blaiher’s stomach churn.
Blaiher took a deep breath and examined the military-issue one-handed sword in his hand.
Just from the specifications and craftsmanship, it was obvious where this thing came from—the ordnance factory.
Its performance was definitely guaranteed.
He shifted his gaze to the wooden sword held by the monster standing before him.
It was a training wooden sword that showed signs of long use.
Ordinarily, it wouldn’t even compare to the military sword in his hand.
‘But the one using it is that person.’
Blaiher vividly remembered what had happened in Strauss’ appraisal shop.
More precisely, he remembered Til appearing when two thugs had tried to take him away.
How could anyone forget her impaling both of their hearts in an instant with the leg of a chair turned into a stake?
It had been Til who taught him the basic stance of swordsmanship in a rush last night, and now it was Til he had to face.
There was no way it would work.
Of course, if she went easy on him, that might be a different story—but he couldn’t expect that either.
“Since I’m watching, don’t even think about going easy.”
“Tsk.”
Til clicked her tongue and spun the wooden sword around with a flick.
She had made it very clear while teaching him the stance:
That it was impossible for her to go easy on him in front of her father.
Valheit’s advice didn’t seem very helpful either.
Believe in your own eyes? What kind of advice was that?
When he hastily asked what trick Valheit had mentioned, the answer was…
‘I’ll take care of the tricks myself. Your Highness just needs to do your best.’
Until he stood in the training hall, Blaiher had pinned some hope on that, but there was no sign of the trick Valheit had prepared.
Even if he had prepared something, there was no way for Blaiher to know about it.
“Well then, begin…”
“Oops, I hope I’m not too late.”
A mischievous voice called out from the entrance to the training hall.
It wasn’t as loud as Werner’s booming voice, but it was a voice that could never be ignored.
“Count Valheit. I hadn’t heard you’d be coming.”
“My apologies. I couldn’t inform you separately as I was handling urgent matters. Still, I hope it’s not the kind of offense that warrants being kicked out without even being treated like a guest.”
Whether he was oblivious or just shameless, Valheit strode across the training hall without hesitation and stood beside Werner.
“Don’t mind me. Just continue with what you were doing, Lord Chartra.”
“…Begin.”
With that faint command, a duel that might change the history of the Empire began.
Blaiher’s clumsy attacks clashed with Til’s impenetrable defense.
“Not very entertaining, Lord Chartra.”
It hadn’t been long since it started, but Valheit was already yawning and grumbling.
Werner considered snapping back but shook his head and gave up.
“Shall we make a wager? Fights are always more fun when there’s a bet involved, aren’t they?”
Once again, Werner didn’t respond.
Valheit continued talking as he pleased.
“I’ll bet on Blaiher Kruber’s victory.”
“But he hasn’t landed a single effective strike.”
Unable to hold back her curiosity, the youngest, Anne, shot back.
Indeed, there was no clear path to victory for Blaiher.
“It’s always more fun to bet on the side that seems unlikely to win, Miss Anne.”
“R-Really?”
“What reason would I have to lie? Mr. Joseph over there would probably agree as well. That aside, Lord Chartra, are you still not interested?”
“There should be a prize if it’s a bet.”
Werner replied curtly.
If Valheit had wagered without a moment’s hesitation, there must be a reason.
“Ah, I forgot about that. How about this? If Lord Chartra wins, I’ll leave the territory immediately. I also promise not to interfere with whatever you choose to do in the future.”
“And if you win?”
“Then please teach Blaiher Kruber martial arts and military strategy. What do you say? It’s a fairly fair proposal, isn’t it?”
Werner scoffed.
Valheit would never do anything that put him at a disadvantage.
He had calculated everything and decided not to get involved in this coup. He was using that illegitimate child as an excuse.
“I’ll bet on Til winning.”
That was fine.
If this annoying fellow disappeared quickly, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.
‘Unless something unexpected happens.’
An accident.
What had happened yesterday suddenly came to mind.
It hadn’t seemed important, so he had completely forgotten about it.
“Count. I heard a snake entered our garden late last night.”
“Perhaps it felt stifled.”
Valheit had briefly visited the mansion yesterday.
He hadn’t thought much of it, just assumed he came to see Til or Blaiher, but now it seemed there might have been another reason.
“What do you mean, stifled?”
“There’s an old saying that a snake at night brings wisdom. Perhaps it brought some trouble to someone.”
“And if you were the snake, what wisdom would you have brought?”
“Who knows? How could I understand what goes on inside a snake? Still, if I had to guess.”
Valheit paused for a moment and smiled faintly.
“I’d have said to trust one’s own eyes.”
A cracking sound echoed through the training hall.
The wooden sword Til had been holding broke.
It was astonishing.
Even if it was a wooden sword, it was managed by Chartra. For it to break…
With her defensive range now reduced, Blaiher aimed for Til’s back…
And the duel came to an end.
“Match over.”
Werner announced calmly.
Blaiher had collapsed to the ground along with his sword.
The blade was so mangled it looked like it needed to go back into the furnace.
“Well, I lost. I was hoping for a miracle, but alas.”
“…….”
With the unpleasant sound of clapping, Valheit walked into the training hall, placed a hand on the shoulder of Blaiher—who had barely managed to steady himself and stand—and smiled.
“Now then, let’s go back.”
“Teacher, I’m still….”
“Still? You plan to fight more in that state? Everyone has already seen your worth. There’s no need to stay and embarrass yourself further.”
Half-forced to his feet, Blaiher glared at Valheit, who was smirking as if mocking him.
“It’s not over yet.”
“Lord Chartra already declared the match over. Don’t make this any more pitiful…”
“I haven’t yet declared the victor.”
Werner’s solemn voice struck down, as if scolding Valheit.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Til Chartra took a single step to block the attack from behind. Therefore, the winner of this match is… Blaiher Kruber.”
Valheit twisted his mouth slightly, letting go of the victor.
The defeated Til stretched her arms like it was finally over and glared at Valheit.
Only Valheit paid attention to what her mouth was saying.
‘If you drag me into crap like this again, I’ll kill you.’
In response to that vicious message, Valheit merely replied with a smile.
***
“The Emperor of the Eslick Empire must also excel in military affairs.”
“You’ve repeated that line about five times now.”
“That’s how much I want you to take this seriously. Not everyone gets a chance to learn under Chartra.”
“You’ve said that about three times already too.”
“I’m just worried, Your Highness.”
Werner wasn’t one to speak empty words.
Blaiher was granted permission to stay in the Chartra territory for training for the time being.
Of course, to other trainees and disciples, he would be known under the name Blaiher Strauss.
“I’ll return in a month. By then, I’ll share all the plans with you. Until then, just don’t collapse.”
“Yes, Teacher.”
Despite the response, his expression still carried doubt.
I should leave before he asks more questions.
“Well then, see you later, Your Highness.”
As I boarded the carriage, I was greeted by Til’s sullen face.
“What is it?”
“How much of this was part of your plan?”
Even if I could fool everyone else, I couldn’t fool Til.
After all, she was the one who used the trick I’d set up.
“Did you like the wooden sword?”
“Just holding it was enough to know it would snap with a few clashes. You somehow prepared that without getting caught by anyone in our house.”
I figured someone like Til would catch on right away.
I had a tough time making sure she wouldn’t notice until she actually grabbed it.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Without it, we wouldn’t have had such a dramatic moment.”
“Do we need something like that?”
“Of course. Leaving an impression on Lord Werner Chartra was the most important thing.”
In fact, I had predicted what kind of test Werner would present.
Tests from the Chartra family had appeared several times in the original novel.
The simple-minded test of ‘make me take one step’ might seem crude, but the outcome itself wasn’t what mattered.
What Chartra truly valued was the process.
The goal of Chartra’s test was to measure not only martial prowess, but also willpower, determination, and wisdom.
It was a twisted method, but quite effective in gauging a person’s character.
At least to the Chartra family.
“In the end, it worked out because Lord Werner Chartra was impressed, didn’t it?”
“And if he hadn’t been impressed?”
“Then I would’ve diverted everything toward the Dukes’ Council.”
Of course, I was confident that wouldn’t happen.
Werner was bound to favor Blaiher no matter what.
In the original story, Blaiher and Werner Chartra only briefly crossed paths for a fleeting moment.
When the Imperial Palace was taken over by the Dukes’ Council, Werner Chartra was found being tortured underground, and he met Blaiher, who had become a puppet on the verge of death.
Upon seeing Blaiher, Werner seemed to realize something and lamented why they hadn’t met sooner, then died.
That was how their connection originally ended—but by altering the course and having them meet sooner, a different future awaited them.
‘A future more favorable to my survival, that is.’
I casually checked the status window again.
[Relationships]
▶ Blaiher Kruber (11 / Improving!!)
(+) Helped him gain Chartra’s recognition!
(-) Would’ve been nice to give a heads-up about your plans!
Following Til, my relationship with Blaiher had also crossed a branching point.
And with that came the reward: a notification that I had acquired the skill “Eye of the Monarch”….
[Timer]
▶ Valheit Death Probability = 72.5%
(+) Blaiher has entered under Chartra!
(+) Death probability enters the 70% range!
▷ 2 Skill Points acquired!
The sharpest drop in death probability so far was now in sight.
‘The first episode hasn’t even officially started, and I’ve already reduced it by a quarter.’
At this rate, maybe it was more doable than I thought?
“So what now? Are you just going to wait for something to happen?”
“Of course not. I’m going to create an environment where the First and Fourth Dukes can move freely.”
Johann Geller and Werner Chartra had completely opposite personalities and values.
Outwardly, people thought the two were always clashing.
If Werner made a move and Geller did nothing, anyone with an interest in Imperial politics would find that strange.
“We need to create a setting where it doesn’t feel unnatural even if those two major figures don’t clash directly. That way, both of them can act comfortably.”
“Sounds plausible enough, but how?”
“That depends on how our troublesome Third Duke acts. The exact plan is still fluid, though.”
Til stared at me.
What was that? Normally she would say, “Do as you like,” and turn away, but now she kept staring. It felt a bit burdensome.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking, it’s very like you to prefer improvisation over a perfect plan.”
“I’ve always been myself.”
“I’m sure you have.”
With a sneer, Til turned her gaze to the outside.
Finally, it felt like things were back to normal.
‘That’s so Valheit.’
Maybe it was a good thing—meant I was doing a good job acting like Valheit.
That’s what I told myself as I tried to let it go, but her words—“very like you”—kept echoing in my mind.