The next morning, as sunlight streamed down and birds chirped in the woods, Charlot rubbed his eyes, climbed down from the carriage, and headed to the nearby forest to relieve himself. He collected dew from the leaves and wiped his face clean.
When he returned, Sylvie Martin opened the carriage door and said, “You can come up now.”
Charlot boarded the carriage. Seeing that the two ladies had tidied up and dressed neatly, he gestured for Mrs. Nancy to continue driving toward Machubi Fortress.
By the time they arrived at Machubi, another carriage was already parked at the fortress gates. Aubrey Tildon Atwood, the director of the Fierce Horse Detective Agency, stood there with a young military man in his thirties.
Upon seeing Venie Arsenault, Aubrey Tildon Atwood greeted her with a smile. Venie returned a formal Imperial salute.
As for Charlot, he saw no reason to greet Aubrey Tildon Atwood. Given their now mortal rivalry, there was no need for any false pleasantries.
The young military man stepped forward and introduced himself: “I am Harriet Alva, Addison’s brother, graduate of the First National Institute, and practitioner of the Knightly Breathing Techniques.”
Hearing First National Institute, Charlot couldn’t help but feel a bit of respect.
He had graduated from Lemann Public Academy, studied at Behemoth National Academy—neither of which were among the Empire’s top schools—and had only made up for this shortcoming by later attending Sheffield University.
No one could say that a university graduate lacked proper credentials. Still, hearing of someone graduating from the First National Institute sparked a tinge of envy. After all, Zimourman Axel Robin had also graduated from there. The Institute was affiliated with Royal Hogwarts University, and its graduates typically went on to that prestigious university.
The First National Institute was essentially under the Wing of the Lord of Radiance, where students could learn the Knightly Breathing Techniques.
Charlot asked casually, “A shame. Why didn’t you apply to a university?”
Harriet Alva smiled faintly and replied, “Because during my final year at the First National Institute, I had a good friend named Zimourman Axel Robin. Just before graduation, he suddenly attacked me and left me incapacitated, causing me to miss the university entrance exams.”
Even though a duel to the death was imminent, Charlot couldn’t help but show a look of sympathy. “Was this friend of yours… really a friend?”
Harriet smiled again and replied, “If I could gather all eight Proofs of War, he’d be the first person I’d challenge. Unfortunately, the Empire has already executed him, and I’ll never have the chance.”
Charlot hesitated, thinking to himself: Actually, you still have a chance. If you commit an unforgivable crime and get yourself thrown into Kilmainham Prison, you’ll have the opportunity to challenge Zimourman Axel Robin. Though, after the Jade Scroll extracts your memories, I wonder if you’ll still remember this grudge.
Of course, he dared not reveal this secret. Zimourman Axel Robin wasn’t dead yet—a secret that absolutely could not be leaked.
Charlot now vaguely understood why Menielman Soumet had chosen him to sign those documents. He had indeed shown talent, was her proper junior, and sharing the secret had been her subtle way of recruiting him.
Since then, he had performed admirably…
And now, he was undoubtedly the most loyal subordinate of the Empire’s First Rose.
Harriet Alva appeared calm and restrained, showing no signs of rashness despite facing the enemy who had killed his brother.
Patiently, he waited as the witnesses inspected both men’s weapons, confirmed the legitimacy of the duel documents, and followed tradition by asking both parties if they wished to cancel the duel, embrace, and resolve the conflict peacefully…
Charlot immediately agreed.
For the first time, Harriet Alva showed some impatience, firmly refusing to cancel the duel.
After completing a series of cumbersome procedures, under the watchful eyes of the two witnesses and Sylvie Martin, the two men entered Machubi Fortress. In an open area, they faced off.
Charlot focused his senses, and the labyrinthine Machubi Fortress responded warmly to him, revealing an interesting fact: the Machubi Labyrinth NPC count had now risen to 1,321.
Aside from adventurers, many beasts that once roamed Machubi Fortress had now been designated as NPCs. Along with those beasts, some of the monsters, malevolent spirits, and strange entities that once lurked in the fortress ruins had also been classified as NPCs.
Harriet Alva wielded a standard-issue military saber. As a fifth-level Sergeant of the Forty-First Rank, his financial situation was dire, often relying on support from his younger brother, Addison, a detective. Naturally, he couldn’t afford any extraordinary weapons.
Charlot used his alchemical cane—a weapon crafted from a dissolved magical scabbard from the Sherlock dynasty and reinforced with special wood, making it as durable as metal swords.
Both weapons had passed inspection, and both men had sworn not to use firearms during the duel.
Sylvie Martin, unaware of this rule, looked visibly worried upon hearing that firearms were prohibited. Her small face was clouded with concern.
Venie Arsenault, however, remained calm and composed. She was certain Charlot had other ways to fight back.
Harriet saluted with his saber raised to his brow, and with a sharp cry, combat energy erupted around him. He launched a simple yet powerful charge, covering more than ten steps in an instant, his saber slashing down with immense force.
This strike was devoid of any unnecessary embellishment, but its power, speed, precision, and timing were impeccable—honed through countless battles on the frontlines.
In terms of pure speed, Harriet was almost on par with Algernon when he used The Leopard’s Hunt.
And Harriet hadn’t even used any extraordinary abilities.
Charlot took a deep breath, his body light as he retreated, narrowly avoiding Harriet’s strike. The exchange revealed the strength of a high-ranking knight’s combat energy and the agility of one with extraordinary abilities.
Harriet smoothly transitioned his stance, unleashing a flurry of twelve consecutive strikes. Each slash was unnervingly steady—utterly unlike Algernon, whose bursts of speed were short-lived. Harriet commented leisurely, “Had I gone to university and learned the Radiant God Meditation, you wouldn’t last a single move against me, Charlot Mecklenburg.”
No doubt about that, Charlot thought to himself.
If Harriet Alva had trained in the Radiant God Meditation and acquired its extraordinary abilities, Charlot wouldn’t even bother fighting—he’d retreat into the depths of the Machubi Labyrinth and rely on its power to deal with Harriet instead.
Even so, Charlot managed to dodge all twelve strikes using his Swiftstep Technique.
Harriet didn’t seem to mind. His face remained confident as he declared, “I’ve fought countless battles in the army. Today, you’ll see the power of my two Proofs of War!”
“Witness the Proof of War!”
A surge of bloody killing intent burst forth from Harriet, and behind him, a blood-red military banner unfurled…