Chapter 130
Chapter 130: A Touch Sparks an Explosion
“GAHAHA–!”
The clan chiefs watched in astonishment as Count Germadios soared through the air, blood gushing from his nose.
He followed a beautiful parabolic arc before crashing down onto the long table in the banquet hall. A deafening noise echoed, turning the heads of the demon race who had been merrily toasting each other. The orchestra, which had been playing cheerful tunes behind the curtain, abruptly stopped in response to the obvious commotion.
“Oops, my bad!”
A sarcastic voice rang out in the hushed hall.
It was none other than Prince Zilbagias.
Wiping the blood off his fist with a napkin, he casually looked down at Germadios from the high platform.
“I thought you were confident in your combat skills and would dodge something as minor as this. I never imagined you would take a direct hit.”
“Nuuuu…!”
Germadios, brushing away leftover food from his long hair in annoyance, stood up angrily, but Zilbagias continued unfazed.
“If you were truly a reckless fool, you would have already lost your life. You were lucky.”
With a swift motion, he pretended to slash Germadios’s throat. If he wanted to, taking a life would be easy.
No longer hiding his mocking tone, it was a blatant provocation.
“Kuuh…!”
In a snap, Germadios’s hand reached for his portable magical spear. Even though he had instigated things first, there was no way the demon race would stay silent while being insulted like this by a younger opponent.
“Oh? You want to go?”
Seeing that, Zilbagias merely smiled wider instead of panicking. In response, he placed his left hand on the worn hilt of an old sword at his waist.
“Rumor has it you have quite the skill with a spear, huh?”
His tone was one that showed he didn’t believe it at all.
“This is just right for some exercise. Care to show me? Count Germadios.”
With complete ease, Zilbagias showed no doubt at all about his victory.
“……..”
Germadios was starting to fix his gaze, having been punched in the face and taunted; if he backed down here, he’d become a laughingstock for all time.
Moreover, Zilbagias had jumped the gun and used the [Introduction] spell.
This was no longer just a simple squabble.
If things continued as they were, it might lead to a duel—
The magical power enhanced by [Introduction] now easily surpassed that of Baron Eijivart, who was grimacing at the edge of the crowd and was swelling to a level that could be considered equivalent to a count.
On par with Count Germadios—
No, possibly even superior—
If such powerful beings were to clash this way, the extent of the chaos that would unfold around them was utterly unforeseeable.
“Wait—”
Before Clan Chief Jijiivart could intervene,
“—Zilbagias!”
A calm, clear voice called out the troublemaker’s name.
It was Grand Duchess Platiphia.
A sigh of relief was breathed by someone. That’s right, she was the only one. No one but the Grand Duchess, who held a position higher than Prince Zilbagias in every sense, could rein in this situation—!
Bearing the weight of everyone’s expectations, Platiphia
hiding a less-than-ladylike smile behind her fan, said one thing.
“Don’t kill him, okay?”
—!?
“I understand.”
Like mother, like son. Ignoring the shocked gazes of her kin, he replied without even turning around. Ironically, his fierce grin closely resembled that of his mother—
Zilbagias drew his sword with a swift motion.
An ordinary, old sword.
However—there was an unsettling, chilling presence about it.
The bones of a human, adorned like decor by the prince, twisted and reshaped like a serpent with a mind of its own—
Before long, they fused with the sword, forming a long spear.
“…!”
Those around him, and Germadios facing him, grasped the situation. The intimidating stance, the magic power radiating from the blade, the rough, chaotic presence reminiscent of a rumbling volcano.
The prince’s spear was not merely for show nor a whimsical trinket; it was a weapon honed to perfection, a top-tier combat skill.
“I used [Introduction], you know. Feel free to use your bloodline magic without hesitation.”
With a whoosh, the blade stirred the air around it delightfully as Zilbagias took his stance.
“Let’s see how much the blood of the former clan chief is worth.”
For a moment, Germadios halted his movement, unleashing a black, dark magic aura from his entire being.
He had caught the unmistakable hint of mockery in Zilbagias’s words.
“…Then behold…!”
His face turned a deep, dark hue from anger. He gritted his teeth and drew his magical spear from his belt.
The stage was set.
“—[Resting Cloak]!”
A whirlwind of black wind swirled around Germadios, enveloping him.
A cloak woven from dark threads of magic flared out.
This was the bloodline magic of the Onbur tribe, Germadios’s maternal side. A powerful protective charm blessed by the gods of darkness, this cloak would guard its master, repelling curses and the like.
In other words, ordinary curses would not work on Germadios.
What lay ahead was a pure spear duel—
Whether he realized it or not, Zilbagias was showing his battle spirit with a “Haha!” The violent energy radiating from him made the surrounding clan members instinctively take a step back—
Only Platiphia, fanning herself, watched calmly.
“……”
Both of them took their positions, glaring at each other.
The demon race surrounding Germadios cautiously stepped back. They certainly did not want to get caught up in this.
Then, someone foolishly touched the cutlery, and a knife fell to the floor with a clear cling!
That was the signal to move.
Like a flash of lightning, Zilbagias leaped down from the platform to meet the oncoming Germadios, who had flared his black cloak.
With strength and magic infused, the spear struck against the magical spear—
A deafening roar resonated throughout the hall.
