Hadjar didn’t slow down, and the beaters began to rise to their feet. They looked at him the same way the villagers he’d saved. With a deep respect and reverence. To them, the Mad General was a symbol rather than a real person.
“You are a coward, General!”
He heard the rattle of metal and silence filled the clearing. Not a lull in the conversation, but the kind of heavy silence that preceded someone’s death.
“You are out of line, Oneg,” an angry voice sounded.
Hadjar turned around and saw Nero holding his gigantic blade at the arrogant young man’s throat.
“What are you going to do, my Prince?” There wasn’t an ounce of fear in Oneg’s eyes. He knew that Nero was weaker than him. “Try to kill me? Or admit that you served under a cowardly weakling?”
Vortices of energy swirled around Nero; Oneg smiled and reached for the hilt of his sword, but the Princess interrupted them.
“Stop this immediately,” she didn’t raise her voice, didn’t make her tone any harsher, but at that moment, Hadjar heard their mother and father. The combined power and authority of their personalities, clearly audible in her voice, made the men stand down.
Nero moved his sword away and sank into his chair, while Oneg, instead of his saber, picked up a glass of wine.
“It’s probably nice to be a hero due to victories over mortals. Eh, General?”
There was silence again.
“Baron Traves,” Elaine said suddenly. “Would you be so kind as to demonstrate the skills that make you a hero to the all citizens of the Kingdom?”
Nero jumped to his feet and tried to stop his sister, but it was too late. The words had been said and heard. There were no witnesses more impartial than the Heavens and the Earth.
Oneg and Izma hadn’t managed to beat Hadjar, but they’d influenced the Princess easily.
“It’s a wonderful evening for a duel,” Oneg laughed. He threw the crystal glass he was holding over his shoulder and stepped forward. “I hope, General, that you won’t force me to become known as the hero’s murderer.”
The blade of the wide saber flashed and Oneg of Boreas, noble scion and disciple of the ‘Falling Leaf’ Imperial school, assumed an attack stance.
Hadjar just stood there calmly — his hands linked behind his back, his legs close together. The most defenseless pose one could assume.
The wind ruffled his patched and worn clothes.
When Oneg blurred forward in a swift lunge, Hadjar didn’t even move.
Chapter 204
Everyone jumped up from their seats. The bravest of the beaters grabbed their blades. They were ready to defend their symbol. A symbol of freedom, rebelliousness, of dignity and military honor.
However, no cry came, no blood drenched the ground.
The wind was still calmly ruffling the Mad General’s clothes. His hands were linked behind his back. His clear blue eyes stared at the noble’s stunned face.
The tip of the saber had frozen only a few inches away from its target’s chest. It seemed to be stuck against an invisible wall of wind. Oneg gripped its handle tighter and pushed forward, trying to break through the barrier, but he couldn’t move the blade forward even an inch. Each time he strained, more and more white circles seemed to ripple out from the point where wind met steel.
“Damn it!” The aristocrat roared.
He turned on his heel, shifted his center of gravity, and slashed viciously at the General. He aimed it at his foe’s right side, and if such an attack had struck an unprotected person, their body would’ve been cut into two unequal parts. Nevertheless, the saber once again crashed into a wall of wind and froze in place. It was as if an invisible hand had stopped the blade only a few moments before impact.
Most of the spectators looked shocked, and only the nobles, the Prince, and the Princess were sitting calmly. They were strong enough to notice that Oneg hadn’t used any energy. He’d simply launched typical, albeit skillful, attacks. Any mortal would’ve been capable of such a feat... if they’d spent several decades following the Way of the Saber.
Oneg of Boreas pushed off the ground and jumped back. He landed ten yards away. He was still arrogant and confident. The two unsuccessful attacks hadn’t affected his self-esteem.
“I would’ve been extremely disappointed, Baron, if you’d died before the battle had even begun.”
His tone was filled with contempt and mockery. His foe didn’t even blink. Oneg became irritated. Here in Lidus, the son of a duke was almost a king in his own right, while in the Empire, he was the same as the cooks and beaters who accompanied them. A servant. A nobody. He couldn’t bear the sight of a mere peasant with a general’s medallion treating him with the same casual indifference as the senior disciples in the ‘Falling Leaf’ school.
“Dew Drop!” Oneg roared.
He assumed a stance that made him look like a crouching tiger ready to jump on its prey. He held the hilt of his saber firmly in both hands, and aimed the blade directly at his enemy’s chest.
Only Izma and Oneg’s friend knew about this Technique. The best disciples of the school could use it to kill a practitioner at the Transformation of the Body Stage.
If the Mad General relied on just energy to defend himself this time, he wouldn’t be able to survive.
Oneg’s blade shone with a blue light, and as he exhaled, the young nobleman thrust the blade out. A blue ball was launched from the tip. It stretched and changed until it began to resemble the broad blade of a saber. It looked as if the blade had indeed produced a drop of dew. Deadly and insanely fast, it rushed toward Hadjar’s heart.
Everyone screamed. However, it wasn’t a scream of fear or horror. Rather, one of surprise.
Hadjar turned into a whirlwind of gray, tattered clothes. As he spun, his rags shot up, covering his face and torso for a moment. When he stopped,
