Chapter 29 - The Succession Match (4)
"Alright. Then, from now on..."
Gric stepped back a few paces, then raised his hand.
"Let the succession match begin."
"Hyaap!"
Giel launched himself forward, pushing off the ground as if he'd been waiting.
Fast.
The peak speed achievable by a body trained to its limits.
Could he be called a superhuman, in fact?
And I am just an ordinary human.
I've trained in the Granvelle style since childhood, but it's nothing compared to a human who has activated their Aura.
An overwhelming difference in physical ability.
It's like a human facing a beast.
Is this what it feels like to face a wild beast like a bear?
It's a disadvantage.
But I'm human.
Humans are tool-using animals who overcome disadvantages.
And I have a tool.
A wooden sword.
Of course, my opponent also holds one, but there was a significant difference from the one I held.
I was connected to the wooden sword.
Connected as if it were my own body, another arm of mine, extended.
This arm would never break.
Still, I couldn't compete with strength.
Competing with speed was also out of the question.
Because my opponent was a beast.
And that beast knew nothing of swordsmanship.
He presented a plausible form as if he knew something, but in reality, there was nothing substantial within it.
His sword was empty.
So I could predict the trajectory of the incoming wooden sword first.
Easy.
His sword had no flow.
No flow meant no natural order, and no natural order meant no illusions.
So, ultimately, it was nothing.
Just blocking the incoming beast's claws with my arm was enough.
The moment of impact.
Crunch!
My opponent's claws broke.
A natural outcome.
I had anticipated it, and he had not.
This was the decisive difference.
When wielding a sword, nothing unexpected should happen.
In that moment, your stance crumbles, your mind wavers, and your body stiffens.
But I was free.
The moment of impact, I continued the flow, rotating my body to deflect the shock while simultaneously diving into the enemy's flank, preparing my next attack.
This is called Current Flow Sword.
The state of natural order where one unconsciously and naturally continues the flow.
And from here, it's the Granvelle family's time.
Right now, I could strike the defenseless enemy's back of the head.
Or I could slash his neck.
Or even break his waist.
All of it was possible.
Countless possibilities that could become reality unfolded simultaneously in this short interval.
A moment akin to seeing the future, yet no actual future vision appeared.
This is the essence of Granvelle swordsmanship, the interval.
In this moment, Giel died three times and was crippled twice.
But the reality that unfolded was none of those.
Poke!
A light thrust.
"Gah!"
Giel, poked in the back, stumbled forward and rolled hard.
Unnaturally, forcibly.
He kept tumbling, gathering momentum, and at some point, tried to dynamically get up.
But.
Poke.
My wooden sword was already touching his temple.
"No..."
At that moment, the beast's face returned to a human face.
A typical human face, filled with terror.
Be glad, Giel Craven.
Just now, if I had truly wanted to, I could have killed you, disguised as an accident.
Or broken a leg, making you walk on crutches for at least a few months.
But I didn't.
It's better to stay quiet for now.
The rumors about the Poisoned Human in the slums are already unsettling.
If rumors spread that I seriously injured an opponent in a succession match, my scope of activity would narrow further.
"Stop! That's enough!"
Just then, the observer shouted from behind me.
"Succession match ended! The winner is Ray Granvelle!"
"I-impossible!"
Giel, who had been stiff, suddenly sprang up and shouted.
"This is invalid! I cannot accept it!"
What?
A surprisingly fresh opinion.
Invalid?
What about that fight was invalid?
Was he perhaps saying that reading all his movements beforehand and controlling the flow was invalid?
"What's invalid?"
Gric seemed to be thinking the same thing as me.
Giel blinked rapidly, making excuses.
"Th-that, ah, no. This is Granvelle's home ground, his dorm. Th-that's right. I was uncomfortable from the moment I set foot on this Graveyard Mountain!"
"What?"
"The ley lines, the ley lines! The ley lines of this mountain don't suit me! That's why I couldn't properly activate my Aura!"
Giel spread his arms, desperately arguing.
"Since I couldn't use Aura properly, I couldn't enter a trance state. I can perfectly control the trance state... That's right! Granvelle figured that information out beforehand! So he deliberately found a forbidden zone that doesn't suit me and set it as the succession match location!"
Giel seemed to have found the answer, clenching his fists and shouting.
Of course, it was utter nonsense.
Trance?
Trance, my foot.
What 3-star Aura user in the world can perfectly control the trance state, a double-edged sword?
Even if I can't wield Aura, I know that much as common sense.
And the observer accurately articulated my thoughts.
"Shut up, Giel Craven."
At the same time, murderous intent flashed.
Giel stumbled as if hit by an illusory sword, then hunched his body.
"Ugh, ugh... An-an observer should maintain neutrality... Ugh..."
Cold sweat dripped down his pale face.
Did he really launch an illusory sword?
"This is a warning. If you defy the result, I will formally sanction you."
"Ugh... An observer should maintain neutrality..."
"Good heavens."
Gric shook his head and said, "Do you still not understand, Giel Craven? That your opponent chose this duel location for your sake?"
"What on earth do you mean...?"
"You were never Ray's opponent from the start. Your levels are different."
"Ugh..."
"So, if a duel had actually occurred, only your foolishness would have been highlighted. That you're an idiot who can't even grasp your opponent's capabilities."
Giel couldn't close his open mouth.
Gric let out a hollow laugh, frowning. "Amazing, did you truly not know? That there was such a gap between the two of you?"
"Ugh..."
"What on earth did they trust to choose a successor like this? The entire family wouldn't have been able to hold their heads high if you had lost like that in front of everyone. That's why Ray chose this place. If no one saw it, your foolishness would be hidden. And he wouldn't have to antagonize the Craven family."
Oh, I see.
That person named Ray, whoever he is, seems to think very deeply.
He shares my name, but how can people be so different?
Well, anyway.
"Ugh..."
Giel seemed to have suffered a fatal blow from the recent reprimand.
It seemed the observer hit him harder than I did.
Then, at some point, he spun around and started fleeing the way he came.
"Uwaaah!"
Like something had broken, howling like a true beast.
"What a ridiculous fellow."
Gric shook his head and turned to me.
I belatedly bowed in greeting.
"Thank you, Chief."
"I didn't do anything to be thanked for."
"For speaking on my behalf. Though I wasn't really that considerate of him... still, thank you for saying that."
"Hmph."
Giel snorted and turned away.
"The difference between the main and branch families... Did that fellow really run away? There's a limit to foolishness."
"Is it not allowed to run away?"
"In a lower-tier succession match, the observer's evaluation and advice afterwards are more important than the match itself. He's thrown away his opportunity to grow."
"So that's how it was."
"...Ray Granvelle."
The Chief frowned and shook his head.
"Still lacking in aptitude. Far too lacking to be a direct descendant of the main family. You're unqualified."
"My apologies. I will definitely go to the library when I have time."
"Make time to study, even if you don't have time. Many people will attack you with such issues in the future."
"Yes, but how was I?"
"What?"
I swiftly changed the topic and asked, "Your evaluation and advice. What were your impressions after watching the duel just now?"
"Hmm, it was a good interval."
"Interval, you say?"
"Yes. Interval."
Interval.
Just hearing this, it was hard to tell if he meant the word "interval" in its general sense, or the other meaning I knew.
"That foolish fellow didn't understand anything. That his life just now was toyed with by your interval."
"Ah..."
"He probably won't understand it his whole life. That's all."
After hearing this much, I was certain.
Gric Serces understood the 'interval' that the Granvelle family pursued.
The Granvelle's interval, naturally, wasn't a simple concept like the distance from an enemy.
First, it begins with the diversity of choices I can make in a life-or-death moment where lives are at stake.
Naturally, the more, the better, and it's important to have the skill and composure to perfectly execute all those many choices.
Next, one must develop the judgment to quickly choose the most suitable option in that moment, and for this, the head of the Granvelle family makes the successor repeat special training and step-by-step tests.
For reference, I was the only one who passed those tests to the end.
Anyway, to explain it in words, it's roughly this feeling.
The essence of the Granvelle family's swordsmanship, the interval.
This ultimately signifies a disparity.
Being able to do more means being able to create that much of a disparity, even if you don't actually do it.
And between Giel and me, there was a vast disparity.
A disparity so great that it easily covered and even exceeded the difference in physical ability due to Aura.
Anyway, Gric recognized that interval in the duel just now.
Was he perhaps close with my father, being his classmate?
Or did he research the Granvelle family's swordsmanship separately?
"That's all. I have no advice to give you, Ray Granvelle."
"Were there any flaws or shortcomings?"
"None. No, rather, it's difficult to judge. It was a fight with too great a disparity. When you face a more suitable opponent later, I'll have more to say. Look forward to it then."
"Thank you, Chief."
"Ha..."
Gric stared at my face, then snorted.
"You're an interesting fellow. Now, let's get back to official business."
"Official business?"
"Your succession rank. Since you defeated an opponent with a significantly lower rank, there will be no or only a negligible rise in your rank. If you're curious, refer to next month's ranking board."
"Where can I see the ranking board?"
"It's published irregularly in the Bryce Daily."
"Ah, it appears in the newspaper."
"You can also see it by visiting the Succession Management Office building. The updated ranks are posted on the bulletin board in front of the main gate of the building on the 1st of every month. The Succession Management Office's work must proceed swiftly and clearly."
That 'swiftly' something seemed to be the Succession Management Office's slogan.
Of course, since I wasn't interested in rankings, it didn't really matter.
"Additionally, winners of succession matches receive a small congratulatory payment proportional to their succession rank."
"Huh?"
"Here, take it."
Gric pulled out a small pouch and held it out.
Really?
He's giving me money?
This changes things!
"Thank you. I didn't know something like this existed."
"It's common knowledge, so remember it. In addition to this, a small monthly pension is paid according to your succession rank."
"Whoa."
I truly couldn't help but feel "whoa."
A monthly pension?
This changes everything.
Right now, I'm in a dire situation where I cling to Phil for food on days without cafeteria meals.
"Thank you so much. I was struggling because I had no money, so this is perfect."
"Hmm, it's not my money I'm giving you, so there's no need to thank me. It's simply your rightful entitlement."
"Still, hehe."
A smile automatically spread across my face as I received the money pouch.
I felt somewhat proud.
Come to think of it, isn't this the first money I've earned by working?
The amount was roughly... about 500 Sill.
That's what I estimated with a quick glance.
Anyway, it's a lot of money to me.
With this, I could buy Tiber pumpkin pie every day.
Of course, I'd be the one actually eating it, but anyway, I suddenly felt a sense of abundance.
"...I wonder if you've heard about the Inspector."
"Huh?"
"Inspector Pale Trace, I mean."
"Huh? Chief, do you know the Inspector?"
I was surprised by the sudden mention of the Inspector.
Why was Pale's name coming up here?
Were they acquainted?
"Pale Trace is an Inspector that Sword King loyalists like myself pay attention to. Though you probably won't understand what I mean by that."
"No. Not at all. But Sword King loyalists... do you distinguish them separately? Strictly speaking, aren't we all Sword King loyalists?"
"How wonderful that would be."
"…?"
"It's good that there are no eavesdroppers here."
Gric eyed Phil, who was loitering nearby.
Phil jumped in surprise and immediately backed away.
"I'll go wash my face at the well!"
"...Anyway, know this."
Gric sighed and turned his head toward me.
"Pale Trace was arrested by the counter-intelligence unit recently."
"The counter-intelligence unit? You don't mean the Sword King's direct unit, do you? The one with the authority to arrest anyone, so you should be careful? My father mentioned them briefly before..."
"Yes, that very counter-intelligence unit. So, he won't be able to help you for a while."
"That's..."
What on earth was this about?
My mind was in a whirl.
I couldn't understand that Inspector Pale had been arrested, but how did he even know that person was helping me in the first place?
Were they friends too?
"Why was he arrested? What did the Inspector do wrong?"
"The charge is leaking classified information."
"It's a false accusation. Inspector Pale wouldn't do that. He's my savior..."
"I know. But there's no need to worry. He's safe for now."
"But you said it was the counter-intelligence unit, didn't you? I heard that if you're arrested by the counter-intelligence unit, you can't be released until you die. Even if you are released, you'd be crippled or..."
"Usually, yes."
Gric calmly shook his head.
"But not now. In fact, it's the safest place in the world. So don't worry."
"Huh?"
What on earth was this man talking about?
So, Inspector Pale, was framed and arrested by the counter-intelligence unit, but that place was actually the safest in the world?
How was I supposed to understand this?
What on earth was happening behind the scenes right now?