Belliherd, who had been utterly defeated literally, asked for a rematch with a reddened face.
He said he acknowledged his defeat, but he hadn't shown everything yet, so he wanted to have a proper fight again.
"Is there any need? It doesn't seem necessary."
I firmly refused. With a look that said to stop clinging on and just accept defeat cleanly and withdraw.
A rematch, why should I accept such a forced request? If we fought again, it would be difficult to win as easily as this time.
There were two reasons I could overwhelmingly defeat Belliherd: the special circumstances of a duel and the information gap.
The power of Iron Arm, which had become even more potent after the battles with the Valkyrias, and the sturdiness of the magic-imbued cloud iron armor.
Belliherd was utterly defeated because he didn't know about these. He misjudged that his greatsword would be enough to crush any ordinary armor in one go.
From the start, if it wasn't a duel, he would have probably aimed for areas not covered by armor instead of the breastplate, right?
Although those areas are also protected by defensive magic... since my armor isn't a complete set, once the defensive magic activates, it takes about six hours until the next activation.
Meaning it can't be used now. Moreover, it's not some invincible protective barrier, so if struck properly with a greatsword, the magic itself would break.
In other words, in case of a rematch, it would be difficult to take advantage of the equipment against Belliherd now.
Since Belliherd would now be certain that his greatsword can't break the cloud iron plates, if we fought again, he would persistently target only the areas not covered by iron plates.
Seeing his gaze occasionally flicking towards my longsword... perhaps he's thinking of prioritizing destroying my sword?
It wouldn't be as simple as he thinks, but if by some chance my sword really did break, it would be my defeat.
A swordsman losing their sword meant being forcibly reclassified as an unarmed fighter. That meant disqualification as a human, in other words, defeat as a human being.
Of course, if it were someone who had delved solely into unarmed combat and reached a level similar to mine, they would be a respectable expert rather than disqualified as human...
But that's only when talking about proper unarmed fighters.
As someone who has never trained in unarmed combat, I couldn't pull off such skills like them, so it was a matter that didn't apply to me at all.
Therefore.
"I don't think there's any meaning in defeating an opponent I've already beaten once. If you want a rematch, come back when you're much stronger."
"Grrrr...!"
Belliherd let out a groan like a hemorrhoid patient with constipation, his face turning red and blue. Watching him made me feel quite relieved.
That's what you get for being rude and speaking casually from our first meeting. If it weren't for that, I would have shown you respect too. It's all your own doing.
"Withdraw, Belliherd. I'm not doubting your strength, but this place isn't a dueling ground to determine superiority between each other."
Argentir, who couldn't bear to watch anymore, waved his hand for him to withdraw while letting out a faint sigh.
"I've learned everything I needed to know, so don't waste any more of my time."
"...Yes, Your Highness. Forgive my unsightly behavior."
Belliherd apologized politely with a shamefaced expression and withdrew.
...Apologize to me too, to me.
I'm the one you acted unsightly towards.
I looked at him with disgust, then clicked my tongue softly as I sheathed my sword and withdrew. There was no point in arguing about it since it was natural in a status-based society.
And so my verification duel ended in an instant.
* * *
"Curtis of the Hervor Kingdom Knight Order. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Friede of Rhine."
Friede's opponent was a knight named Curtis.
He looked to be in his late twenties, and his attitude and manner of speech were imbued with polite etiquette, perhaps because he was from a noble family.
"...It's Siegfriede."
"Ah, I apologize, Sir Siegfriede. Please forgive my rudeness."
Friede drew her greatsword, demanding to be called by her full name as the other was a nickname. Not Nibelung, but an ordinary black iron greatsword provided in the training ground.
It was Argentir's requirement.
He said that while my armor was barely within the acceptable limit, using a holy sword in a verification duel was a bit too much no matter how you looked at it.
Saying that if the underground facility collapsed because of it, we'd all be buried alive together.
Honestly, it was an unnecessary worry. It would take much more time and experience for Friede to reach that level.
It seemed that since Argentir was royalty from a country other than Rhine, he only knew about Nibelung's power from written documents and was somewhat overestimating it.
Like anecdotes of past heroes swinging Nibelung and splitting fortress outer walls in half... that kind of record.
Anyway, the duel between Friede and Curtis thus began.
"Hyaaaah!"
"She's jumping up...? What a strange- no, unique swordsmanship...!"
Friede whirled her black iron greatsword like a storm, spinning and jumping repeatedly like a winged top.
It was a tactic unfamiliar to Curtis, who would have trained in orthodox martial arts as a kingdom knight.
Not even having wings, yet leaping high into the air where counterattacks were impossible, his face showed confusion about where to target first because there were too many openings.
Of course, it didn't make much difference where he aimed.
Perhaps due to the lack of the holy sword's buff, Friede's slashes were somewhat slower and weaker than before, but they still boasted an intense, storm-like momentum.
Fierce metallic sounds rang out like a bell caught in a whirlwind.
Curtis skillfully utilized a weapon that combined an axe, spear, and hook, thrusting, slashing, striking, and pulling in all sorts of ways to unleash a barrage of fierce combo attacks.
Friede avoided and parried each of those attacks one by one, changing her posture in mid-air using the greatsword as a counterweight.
A battle that seemed close to evenly matched. What decided the outcome was—
"She disappeared...?!"
"Hyah!"
Friede's low attack, swooping in with a lowered posture and swinging her greatsword as if skimming the floor.
The black iron greatsword struck Curtis's armored shin with a roar. Curtis spun around like a joke and planted his head first into the training ground floor.
Because all his attention had been focused upward to respond to the persistent jumping attacks, he completely missed Friede's sudden movement diving downward for an instant.
"I've learned something. I now understand how exaggerated the rumors spread among the public were."
Curtis, rising to his feet, acknowledged his defeat in a calm tone while holding his head and shaking it slightly, perhaps feeling dizzy.
"It, it was fun."
Perhaps impressed by that calm yet humble attitude, Friede also ended the duel with her own form of courtesy.
And so all verifications ended.
Friede and I proved our skills by winning against kingdom knights.
By their standards, about mid-level among elite knights. In adventurer terms, they say it's top gold token level.
It seems those with skills similar to ours are in charge of field command of small units within the kingdom knight order.
In other words, Belliherd and Curtis, who lost to us, were ordinary knights who had just shed their rookie status within the kingdom knight order.
Well, thinking about it, it was natural.
Since Argentir was in a position of having secretly left the palace, he couldn't bring along top-tier powerhouses worthy of guarding the crown prince.
Unlike the ordinary crown prince himself, to cover for the absence of such powerhouses, he would need to present stand-ins of similar ability...
But how could that be possible? Not a chance.
If Argentir wanted to go on a secret outing, it was best to bring along ordinary knights who wouldn't stand out much as guards, whether they were there or not.
* * *
After finishing all business like that, Argentir drove me out with a word not to cause any more trouble, along with an order to leave.
He handed over only a small identity token proving my executive status in the organization, a brief profile of the female knight Esther, and a letter of introduction to show her.
He said he'd send the magic tool for changing hair color later. Friede was delighted, saying she'd have the same hair color as me.
Afterwards, I returned to the inn in Ahilant and carefully read the profile he had given me.
Verloren Esther.
That was the name of the person who would become my mother on paper.
38 years old, single.
Divorced from her husband and her only child missing.
One of the candidates for deputy commander of the former kingdom knight order, she had reached the highest level of elite knights and was on the verge of reaching the realm of high-ranking knights, they say.
'Just before high-ranking knight... that's more impressive than I thought.'
I'm not sure if she really was a high-ranking knight or if she had stopped at the wall before that level, but anyway, she was truly a powerhouse beyond imagination.
There are no beings who have reached the high-ranking level or above in the current kingdom.
Even those called the kingdom's greatest swordsmen had only reached the highest level of high-ranking, but hadn't crossed over to the next realm.
The reason each country supports heroes is precisely to create powerhouses above the high-ranking level.
The same was true for other professions.
Most high-ranking mages were serving as Magic Tower masters or branch heads, and the title of high-ranking priest was only given to clergy above the rank of archbishop.
In short, being just before the realm of high-ranking knight meant she was one of the strongest among the top 20 powerhouses in the kingdom.