If You Truly Wish So.... (2)
A brief, awkward silence passed.
Grondal, who had been about to shout, held back. From what he'd seen so far, that guy's temper and skills were anything but ordinary.
So Grondal forced a gentle smile. Still, his cheek twitched slightly.
He spoke in a coaxing tone.
"I didn't ask you to give it to me right now, did I? Take it out again, let's talk about how it ended up in your hands in detail. I'd like to check once more if that's really Gramdir."
If it's in a subspace, it's impossible to take it by force. To steal it, you'd have to subdue the owner and then brainwash them through mages.
Against someone of that level, that's simply not realistic. You'd need to keep them restrained for months—and before that, someone would either die or kill.
At Grondal's words, Ghislain turned his head slightly to the side and scoffed.
"Hmph."
It was obvious he was trying to coax him into bringing out Gramdir. Most likely, the moment it came out, the fight would begin.
If nothing else, that Dwarf King did seem like a very fiery personality.
But Grondal was far more fiery than Ghislain had imagined.
When Ghislain showed no sign of bringing it out, Grondal decided to flex his strength.
Boom!
Grondal growled as he lifted his halberd.
"If you don't bring out Gramdir right now, we'll talk with force."
Savior or not, that was a separate matter. Grondal intended to get Gramdir first, then continue the conversation.
"Huh?"
At Grondal's intensity, Ghislain looked baffled. But at the same time, he subtly reached for his staff.
"Well now."
Grondal also laughed in disbelief as he took his stance. Ghislain naturally did the same.
Just as the two were about to clash, Lionel rushed in between them.
Among the group, he was the only one with proper social experience.
So from a certain point onward, it had become Lionel's job to mediate situations like this.
"I believe there's been a misunderstanding. That sword was acquired through completely legitimate means."
"How the hell do you legitimately acquire someone else's item? It's not like I gave it to you willingly."
"Well, when we arrived at the trade city…"
Lionel waved his hands and began explaining the process through which Ghislain had obtained Gramdir.
After hearing the full story, Grondal spoke with a bewildered expression.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"..."
"You're telling me that the treasure hidden deep in the royal castle's secret vault was won through some bet? Does that even sound reasonable to you?"
Being fiery means being hot-tempered. And usually, those types don't stop to think calmly.
His head was now full of just one thought: take Gramdir first.
"Hey! Stop spouting nonsense and take it by force if you want it so bad! Then I'll just give it to you! How's that? Easiest solution, right?"
Ghislain scratched his cheek. It was, honestly, the easiest and his preferred method—but still, he didn't want to punch an elder who had shared hardship with him.
But that only ended up provoking Grondal more.
"Huh? You now? What's with that face? That 'I'm letting you off' expression?"
"…It's not quite that."
"Don't give me that! I saw you fight earlier! You're not the type to back down in a fight!"
"Well, even so, it doesn't feel right to do that to a guest..."
He didn't say the rest—that he couldn't just go around beating up a king. Ghislain had at least that much tact.
His companions looked amazed at this unfamiliar version of Ghislain. He was always reckless, but apparently, he could restrain himself, too!
And yet, his expression was very relaxed. No, it actually looked just plain bored.
Hot-headed Grondal looked at Ghislain's face, tilted his head, and asked,
"You really think you're letting me off, don't you?"
"...…."
"Then what, you wanna go for real? I've been wanting to see how good you really are."
"Well… if you really insist… Ah, I do want to live politely, though."
Ghislain grinned as he raised his staff.
Before anyone could say a word, the two of them clashed, weapons in motion.
KWAHHHHNG!
The massive halberd and heavy staff collided repeatedly, shaking the underground hall.
Ghislain's staff moved fluidly, while Grondal's halberd came crashing down with the weight of a mountain.
Crash! Boom! KWAANG!
What started as light clashes soon turned deadly serious, with both men's eyes gleaming with killing intent.
Once they started fighting, their blood was fired up by each other's skill.
The only downside was that both were already exhausted.
KWAHHHNG!
They collided again, then staggered back from the impact.
Though their breathing was ragged, their gazes never wavered.
Grondal inhaled deeply, then provoked first.
"You were fighting well earlier, but your stamina sucks. You're already wheezing, young man. Kinda pathetic, aren't you?"
"That weapon of yours… isn't it too heavy for an older gentleman? Looks rough to swing around. If you drop it, you might hurt yourself."
"Ha, listen to this kid! Weak body, strong mouth!"
KWAHHHNG!
Before they knew it, Grondal's halberd slammed into the floor near Ghislain.
Ghislain swiftly dodged and swung his staff.
FWHACK!
The tip of the staff cut through the air, aiming for Grondal's flank.
CLANG!
But Grondal rotated the halberd's shaft, blocking it perfectly.
With the powerful impact, both men were pushed back a step.
"Hah, not bad at all. Of course, if I were in peak condition, I'd have split you in half."
"If I were in my true top form, you wouldn't even have time to talk like this. So I'm a little resentful."
"Ha, this guy… I like that confidence."
Their words were light, but their movements were not.
CLANG! CRASH! KWAANG!
The staff and halberd clashed again and again, sparks flying with each impact.
Their energy and stamina had long since run out, but they were transcendents who could dominate the battlefield on skill alone.
Just watching such a high-level fight left the onlookers awestruck.
CLANG!
As their weapons collided once more, both were pushed back several steps by the force.
A moment of silence followed as they caught their breath.
Grondal growled as he spoke.
"Why don't you give up now? Your hands are shaking. Feels like you're about to pass out, doesn't it?"
'Ugh, my bones ache. That bastard's really tough.'
"I'm still young, full of energy. But Your Majesty, shouldn't you be careful not to overdo it? Your legs are shaking."
'What the—steel stamina or what? He's still moving like that?'
Even before Ghislain stepped in, Grondal had already fought two Prophets.
So he was more wounded, and had spent more of his energy. And yet he was still holding his own against Ghislain—he truly was a monster.
In any case, both men were too prideful to back down. Even as their arms trembled and they struggled to hold their weapons.
Grondal stroked his beard and said,
"You've got the skill to take the treasure… but I still can't give it to you. It's mine."
"Then how about we compromise—let's say I borrowed it."
"If you borrowed it, you need to return it!"
Grondal roared as he charged again. His pride wouldn't let him accept a draw with a young punk.
KWAHHHHNG!
Their weapons clashed several more times.
Both hadn't had many chances to fight someone of this caliber, so this was a rare and valuable experience.
CLANG! CRASH! KWAANG!
As the fight between the two grew more intense, the people nearby instinctively backed away. If they got caught in the middle for no reason, they could get seriously hurt.
And frankly, it wasn't a good look for the two of them to be fighting like that.
The six Dwarf captains spoke with awkward expressions.
"Well, our king's a bit hot-tempered… Once he burns off some steam, he'll come to his senses."
From the Yulian Mercenary Corps, Lionel bowed his head slightly in response.
"That one's a maniac too… But he'll calm down soon enough."
And so, both sides exchanged awkward glances and offered mutual understanding.
Still, no one tried to stop them. It was rare to witness a battle between such high-level warriors.
Bang! Bang! KWAANG!
Honestly, if the two of them were fighting at full strength, the royal castle should've already collapsed. Fortunately, both were extremely drained and exhausted.
Even the energy that had partially recovered was rapidly depleted by their continued fighting.
Eventually, Grondal and Ghislain, panting heavily, lost their grip on their weapons.
"Ugh… my bones ache…"
"Ha… this is insane…"
Both were hunched over, clutching their knees, gasping for air. They no longer had the strength to lift their weapons.
But if there was one thing neither man lacked, it was pride. Being the first to say "let's stop" would be the same as admitting defeat.
Soon enough, the two grabbed each other and began to tumble.
"My fists are iron fists! Receive the soul of the dwarves!"
"The first thing I ever learned was hand-to-hand combat! Huh? You said iron fists, and now you're pinching me?"
Thwack! Thump! Smack!
Now completely out of strength, the two flailed their fists like common street thugs. It was so pitiful that even the spectators felt embarrassed.
And everyone watching knew exactly why such powerful individuals were still fighting like this without stopping.
"Their pride's insane."
"They'd rather die than lose."
"A prideful brawl between two geniuses, huh."
They were the kind of people who wouldn't stop fighting until someone physically dragged them apart.
Meanwhile, watching the exhausted Ghislain, both Osval and Lionel had the exact same thought.
"I could beat that bastard right now."
Yulian, Deneb, and Kyle weren't around. Opportunities like this didn't come often.
But neither of them dared act. That was because Erenes, standing nearby, had narrowed her eyes and was watching the two of them closely.
As someone who dealt with the energy of spirits, she had a keen intuition. Even a slight shift in mood, and she'd catch on immediately.
So while those two continued fighting like idiots, suddenly the door burst open and someone stormed in shouting.
"Father! I'm the one who stole Gramdir!"
The one who appeared was Torvalt, who had lost the bet with Ghislain.
In fact, he was Grondal's son and the prince of Valskrum.
At the sudden use of the word "father," Ghislain and his group turned to look at Torvalt, eyes wide.
"What the? His son? Then how old is he?"
"He looks middle-aged, so he didn't seem much younger."
"Yeah… you really can't judge by appearance."
Only now were the group finally able to grasp the teaching of the Elf Grand Chieftain, Iraniel.
After losing Gramdir, Torvalt had hovered around the Yulian Mercenary Corps for several days.
When they had split up after finding lodging, he'd even secretly searched their belongings.
– Why isn't it here? Where did they hide it?
He'd even tried spying on Ghislain while he was standing on a magic circle. But no matter how much he searched, he couldn't find Gramdir.
Since it was in Ghislain's subspace, it was only natural that Torvalt couldn't locate it.
Eventually, he learned that the Yulian Mercenary Corps was helping the dwarves. He couldn't avoid hearing it—dwarves were gathering from all over, shouting loudly.
Frightened, he fled from the battle and headed for the royal castle—to see his father, Grondal.
And there, he saw it.
Ghislain, holding Gramdir, fighting Lahamod.
– A-amazing!
He wanted to get closer, but didn't dare. If he got caught in that fight, he could die.
So he stayed as far away as possible and only watched in secret.
After the battle ended, he made up his mind.
– The rightful owner of Gramdir is that man!
He wasn't even the rightful owner himself, but he didn't think that mattered.
After all, he was the heir to Valskrum, and Gramdir would eventually be his. So giving it away in advance didn't seem like a big deal—according to his ridiculous logic.
Once the battle ended, he covered his face and snuck back into the royal castle. His identity was quickly exposed, but everyone just let it go.
Not only because he was a prince by status, but also because in this place, Torvalt was already known as a scoundrel and a pathetic dwarf.
So he'd followed after Ghislain's group, and when he saw them arguing over Gramdir, he showed up to clear the misunderstanding.
"Father! I'm the one who gave Gramdir to him! So please, stop this now!"
"Huuh?"
Grondal staggered to his feet. Ghislain, still gasping, lay flat on the ground.
It was a moment that revealed which of the two had more stamina.
Though Ghislain did feel a little wronged—this wasn't his true body, after all.
But Grondal wasn't in a state to savor victory either. He scowled deeply and stumbled toward Torvalt. His steps were shaky, like a drunk man's.
"So… the dumbass who gambled Gramdir away and lost it… was you, Torvalt?"
"…Yes."
"You pathetic brat!"
SMACK!
Grondal's broad palm came crashing down on Torvalt's head.
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