Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume11 Chapter 3 (section)

===Part 20===

The middle-aged man was completely left behind.

He simply stammered about some unrelated things on the heliport.

“I…I am a royal. I am First Prince Flag of the Eggnog family! Do you have any idea what will happen to a noble family that defies-…”

He came to a sudden stop.

Heivia had walked up, smashed the prince’s nose with his assault rifle’s stock, and grabbed the back of the middle-aged man’s neck as he desperately held his explosive nosebleed.

“Ah.”

He did not even have time to reply.

He was thrown forcefully through the air to move him as far from the young lady and the maids as possible. He rolled along, screeching shrilly, and finally found something to cling to with his bloody hands.

It was the sword stabbed vertically into the heliport.

It was mostly a decorative symbol of the two families’ legend than anything, but it was still a hunk of steel. Even if it had no blade, stabbing someone with the tip would kill them.

“E-ee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

Half in a frenzy, Flag pulled the one-handed rapier from its pedestal and pointed the tip toward Heivia.

Heivia simply narrowed his eyes.

He threw his assault rifle and military handgun aside and quietly drew a large military knife.

“Nice. I was getting sick of cleaning up all the filth, but this is finally looking a little more ‘noble’.”

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re doing this like a true king and knight.”

“I am a royal! A mere noble dares turn his blade on me!?”

“You drew your blade first. Sorry, but this counts as self-defense.”

“Wha-? But…I…!?”

“And aren’t royals considered the top brass of the military from the moment they’re born? Surely you didn’t think you counted as a civilian. You’re not a commoner, after all.”

“…”

“I was officially ordered to stop this civil war. And now the man behind it all turns out to be a soldier, he’s holding a weapon right in front of me, and he intends to harm Legitimacy Kingdom civilians. To be honest, I can’t find a reason ''not'' to fight.”

Flag belatedly looked down to the sword in his hand, but it was too late. Of course, when most of his senses were numbed from having his nose smashed and he was thrown over to that pedestal, it had been obvious what Flag would do.

Heivia heard a sigh.

It came from Karen I. Winchell as she rubbed her index finger against her temple.

She was entirely onboard with this.

“I am aware it is rude for a mere maid to say this, but according to Legitimacy Kingdom law, commoners are guaranteed the right to punish nobles and nobles are guaranteed the same right to royals. …If someone has gone mad with power, the people may stage a justified rebellion or challenge them to a duel.”

“Did you really think I’d just go home after you threatened my woman?”

“Yoooooooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu just had to ruin the excuse I’d given you, didn’t you?”

Even as she pouted her lips, the eyepatch maid narrowed her eyes with a hint of happiness as she viewed her master’s determination. She and the Vanderbilt lady both took a step back.

“A member of the Vanderbilt family would officially be impartial to both parties, so I would like to ask you to be the witness to the duel.”

“Hey, wait.”

“Oh? Are you sure? I am Master Heivia’s fiancée, you know?”

“Wait, wait! Don’t just ignore me!!”

“Not to worry. I know you will not judge him lightly, lady. After all, the Vanderbilt family and the Winchell family have long been enemies. Especially thanks to a certain someone. Isn’t that right, Your Excellency?”

“Don’t…don’t ignore me and prepare to turn your swords on meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

It was too late.

A clear change came over the way Winchell’s knight held his stainless steel knife. Instead of the style taught in military textbooks, he used one seen in sports. He stuck the blade forward, gently pulled back his empty left hand, and quietly pointed it at his target’s face.

One was a knife and the other a rapier, but the latter’s two or three times advantage in reach did not seem to matter.

The boy was prepared to kill in a single strike.

“En garde. I’ll give your life the brand of loser it deserves.”

(Why!? How!? I was perfect! There wasn’t supposed to be anything to worry about!!)

The knight’s duel used in the Legitimacy Kingdom was generally based around a training method known as ''phrase d’arme'' in which each side took turns attacking. One side would strike and the other would knock their blade aside and take their turn to attack. The process would then repeat with the attacker and defender reversed. The duel ended when one side surrendered or was knocked down.

There was no restriction on the weapon used.

The right hand generally held a rapier, but the length and weight could vary. The left hand could hold anything from a shield to a knife or gauntlet to block the attacks. As it was a fight rather than a sport, that was not surprising.

If someone insisted they would fight barehanded rather than use a sword, the duel would still be valid, even if it was basically suicide.

In other words, the duel would begin even if Flag refused to raise his rapier.

Flag tightened his grip on the hilt more because he was overpowered than because he was ready to fight, so Heivia grinned and made a suggestion.

“You can take the first attack, so come on. I’m a noble and the one who challenged you to the duel, so I’ll show my respect for the royal who was willing to accept my challenge.”

To translate that noble language into modern language:

''I’ll kill you with my counterattack.

''I’ll kill you with a triumphant smirk on my face.

(What do you mean I accepted your challenge, you fool!?)

Flag trembled without end.

He could feel the approaching wall of death. His decisions meant nothing. He felt like he had been ordered to build a bulletproof truck with all the modifications he might want and then ordered to drive it full speed off the roof of a hundred-story building. He could instinctually tell that an unreasonable fate was sealing off any effort he might make.

So…

So…

So…

(Don’t joke with me, you worthless noble. You’re nothing more than an errand-runner who has been lent social status and land by us royals! I won’t die. I refuse to die here!! I have royal blood in my veins, so the Legitimacy Kingdom needs me! Without me, this thousand-year kingdom will come crashing down! So I will do whatever it takes to win. I am allowed to!! The god-given rights of a royal are absolute! Did you really think the likes of you could trample over them!?)

As soon as the middle-aged man’s internal pressure passed its limit, something unbelievable happened.

The dry sound of bursting gunpowder came from Flag Eggnog’s hand.

While he held the rapier in his right hand, he pulled a palm-sized stapler-like device from his left sleeve. It was a self-defense handgun that fired when squeezed.

The scent of sparks wafted up from the small muzzle.

The bullet had flown too quickly to be seen.

And no matter why a bullet was fired, it would still kill whoever it hit. Heivia was not a superhero from TV or comic books, so he could not spot a flying bullet and dodge it.

“A duel? Who cares!? This is a real battlefield! Only the winner gets to survive!! Just because a bug manages to crawl up a little from the dirt doesn’t mean it’s worth fighting properly. A vulgar and rude soul like yours deserves a pathetic death from a surprise attack!!”

It may have been because he was freed from the extreme tension or it may have been one of his usual gaffes, but the chubby middle-aged man shouted at the top of his lungs.

But…

“————”

“Eh?”

Heivia never collapsed to the ground.

He did not take a single step, his expression remained unchanged, and he had not shed a single drop of blood.

“Why? Why, why, why, why!? This makes no sense! You’re supposed to be dead! What is this, what is this!? Are you saying you cut the bullet!? You’re not some Island Nation samurai, so you couldn’t possibly do that! You can’t do thaaaaat!!”

“Sigh… Of course he couldn’t.” Karen I. Winchell interrupted him with an exasperated sigh. “Not only was it a weak handgun bullet, but that self-defense gun is extremely short and has no sight to guide your aim. These guns you hide in your palm are at best supposed to drive off a thug at less than five meters. They’re mostly just a decoration meant to scare them with the noise of the gunshot. Not to mention that you were shooting from the hip to make it a surprise. …The real surprise would be if it had actually hit.”

There was no restriction on the weapon used for the duel.

Once he made some kind of attack, it counted as his turn. And Heivia had implicitly said the following earlier:

''You go first.

''I’ll kill you with my counterattack.

“That’s why…”

Heivia took a step forward.

He made sure to touch the tip of the rapier with his knife to signify it was his turn.

Flag squeezed the stapler-like gun a few more times, but he completely forgot it had only been loaded with a single bullet and it simply clicked in vain.

“…you’re…”

Heivia focused on the tensed muscles of the arm he held forward as he approached stabbing range.

Flag threw the gun away and quickly raised his rapier. He no longer cared about the duel. He was clearly preparing to stab his approaching opponent, rules be damned. Even as panic and intent to kill filled his sweaty face, he formed a lowly smile and mouthed some words.

''Wait.

''I’ll pay you however much you want.

“…a failure!!!!!”

With a dull sound, Heivia’s military knife pierced the man’s heart. It plunged in with enough force that the bloody blade stuck out from his back.

There was no need to hold back.

The corpse’s expression was frozen in a smile and filthy blood flowed from the crescent moon shape like a drain regurgitating its contents. First, the rapier fell from Flag’s hand and then Heivia swung his knife to the side to fling the filth from the blade. This threw the skewered man to the ground and Heivia returned the bloody knife to its sheath.

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The Vanderbilt lady put her hands on her hips and spoke up.

“You’re late.”

“I made it in time for our date, didn’t I, baby?”

The dragon slaying was complete.

In that case, the victorious knight could expect to at least wrap his arms around the princess’s waist.

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