Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 132 - The Swordmaster’s Heir

132 The Swordmaster’s Heir

There had been female knights in history, but they were figures of legend, not reality. Outside of honorary titles granted for political reasons, actual female knights simply didn’t exist.

And yet, the disciple of the great Swordmaster—his chosen successor—was standing before them, and she was unmistakably a woman.

"The great Swordmaster, Aizen Brightner’s disciple—state your name," the Grand Duke declared.

"I am Felicia Brightner, adopted daughter of Aizen Brightner."

"Felicia Brightner, as a knight, what is it that you seek?"

"Loyalty. Absolute loyalty."

Her response was curt and resolute.

A ripple of unease spread among the knights. Normally, an oath would mention justice, honor, or the greater good. To speak only of loyalty…

The Grand Duke’s sharp gaze narrowed.

"And if your lord falls into darkness? Will you still remain loyal?"

It was a question that cut straight to the heart of the paradox of oaths.

Felicia, however, didn’t waver.

"If my lord chooses darkness, then I will walk that path with him, even if it means wallowing in the filth. If the Eight Masterss cast him into hell, then I alone shall bear that burden and burn in the abyss for eternity."

A hush fell over the gathering.

Sigmund had expected a simple affirmation, not such an extreme declaration.

"…Then let us hope your lord makes wise decisions," he finally said, his voice softer than before. Raising his sword, he placed it upon Felicia’s shoulders and the back of her neck in a slow, deliberate motion.

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"In the name of Sigmund Hern, I grant you knighthood. Felicia Brightner, may both you and I be proud of this name."

The ceremony concluded, and Felicia rose to her feet.

Yet, unlike other knighting ceremonies, no cheers followed.

The crowd remained stunned, their shock preventing them from responding.

Silence hovered, on the verge of turning into murmurs and hushed debates—

Until a knight abruptly stepped forward and knelt.

"Your Grace! Forgive my impertinence, but I have a request!"

Sigmund merely nodded, unfazed.

"Speak."

"A knight speaks through their blade. Allow me to test whether she truly deserves the title!"

William smirked as he observed the unfolding scene.

’So, Father and Aizen planned for this.’

A public duel was the perfect way to silence the doubters before they could even start whispering.

No one would dare question Felicia’s worth after witnessing her skill firsthand.

Now that he thought about it, William realized he had no clear grasp of Felicia’s current skill level.

He had sparred against her in his past life, but that had been before she had a proper teacher. With a master like Aizen guiding her, she had undoubtedly surpassed the level he once knew.

As William mulled over his thoughts, the two knights stepped into the dueling circle, swords drawn, facing each other.

"May this duel be an honorable battle, worthy in the eyes of the Eight Masterss," declared the Grand Duke, fulfilling the ceremonial duty of the overseer before stepping back.

The duel began in an instant, steel clashing against steel in a shower of sparks.

Clang! Clash! Screech!

Ten minutes passed.

The spectators, captivated by the battle, unconsciously held their breath.

William was no exception.

’Beautiful.’

A duel was typically a fierce exchange of flesh and blood, a contest of raw aggression.

Felicia’s movements, however, were nothing like that. She deflected strikes with an almost dance-like grace, her every motion fluid and effortless.

Her opponent launched attacks at a speed so fast they blurred, yet Felicia countered each one with deliberate, visible movements—so slow they should have been easy to overwhelm, yet impossibly effective.

"…Is that even humanly possible?"

A knight standing near William muttered in disbelief.

Others silently nodded.

A sword that seemed too slow to keep up was somehow blocking every rapid strike. It was as if she already knew where each attack would land before it even came.

William could see it.

The Nectar he had consumed had sharpened his perception, allowing him to read the flow of battle more clearly than ever before.

Felicia’s movements weren’t merely graceful—they were preemptive. She wasn’t just reacting; she was always one step ahead, moving to the exact position where her opponent’s blade would strike before it even did.

Not a swordsman.

A prophet of the sword.

But what was truly terrifying wasn’t just her ability to read the fight—it was the way she instinctively responded, adapting in real time without a shred of hesitation.

’So this is what a true genius looks like.’

William felt a shiver run down his spine.

Even though he could see the same thing she saw, he knew he could never move like that.

The eyes that read mana, the near-supernatural reflexes, the instant, perfect judgment—Felicia embodied all of it, as if she had been born for nothing else.

’A person created solely to master the sword.’

A divine messenger sent by the masters to show humans the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

That was the only way William could describe what he was witnessing.

Clang!

With a sharp impact, a sword was sent flying.

The knight who had initiated the duel staggered back, his offensive coming to an abrupt halt.

Sweat poured down his entire body, his chest rising and falling in exhaustion.

Felicia, on the other hand, lowered her sword lightly, her breathing perfectly steady.

"Do you wish to continue?"

"...No. That was enough."

The knight let out a bitter sigh as he withdrew.

Even after dedicating his entire life to the blade, he could not even graze her.

’The duel was likely prearranged, but his frustration is real. I know that feeling all too well.’

William watched as the knight composed himself and then turned to Felicia with newfound respect.

"A knight speaks through their sword. You have proven yourself. It seems I had no right to test you in the first place."

"The weight of your blade tells me otherwise," Felicia replied. "I consider it an honor to have been tested by someone of your caliber."

"...That is too generous of you."

Despite his words, the knight’s expression betrayed his gratitude.

He wasn’t bowing to a mere ’female knight’—he was acknowledging the true successor to the Swordmaster.

As the defeated knight stepped back, the Grand Duke turned his gaze upon the gathered warriors.

"Felicia has proven her worth. If anyone still doubts her, step forward now!"

Silence.

No one moved.

Their perception of her had shifted completely.

No longer was she some antiquated relic from a fairytale—a female knight out of place in reality.

She was the knight from the fairytales.