I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 49: Duel Against Morgana [1]

Turning toward Morgana, I walked forward until I came face-to-face with Arges, who was standing there holding a wooden practice sword prepared for me. Morgana was already with her own.

"Arges," I said, blinking in clearly exaggerated surprise. "Handing me the very weapon meant to beat down your daughter. You are truly the Scarlet Commander. Unshakable in your fairness and righteousness, even when your own flesh and blood is involved."

I could feel the heat of Morgana’s glare burning into me even more intensely at my words.

"Your Majesty..." Arges replied, clearly bewildered by my remark as he extended the wooden blade toward me. "Please... just be careful."

I met his crimson eyes and my lips curled slightly.

A man as powerful and seasoned as him had immediately recognized that my confidence did not stem from some fleeting adrenaline rush following my awakening. He knew exactly what he was looking at, and he was worried for his daughter not for me.

"Arges, I know you are far from a foolish man," I said, my smile vanishing as my expression hardened into something far more serious. "So stand aside and observe. This is for her own good."

I grasped the hilt of the wooden sword, feeling its balance before continuing my approach toward Morgana.

The onlookers had cleared a large, open space for us, settling off to my right side to observe the spectacle. I closed the distance and finally halted a mere ten feet away from her.

Taking a casual stance, I executed a few experimental swings through the air, testing the weapon’s weight.

"So light. I remember a time when a blade like this felt as heavy as hardened steel in my hands. Though, I suppose the sword was considerably smaller back then, wasn’t it?" I asked Morgana, flashing her an easy smile.

She merely glared at me, her face plastered with a mask of hostility.

"Once this is over, you will restore my father’s title. I care not for your politics, and I have no desire to be reinstated as your wife," she declared, her words sending a shockwave through the gathered audience.

Several audible gasps echoed across the courtyard, the onlookers utterly scandalized by both the audacity of her words and the insolence in her tone toward royalty.

"Morgana," I sighed, shaking my head slightly. "That is precisely your flaw. You fall prey to your emotions far too easily, acting on pure impulse before you even comprehend the gravity of your own words and actions. It is the most fatal weakness a knight can possess. Did your father not teach you as much?"

"And what would you know of being a knight?!" She snapped in response.

"Evidently, much more than you do," I replied, my smile returning as I tilted my head.

Her knuckles turned white as she clenched the hilt of her wooden sword. She turned her gaze toward Arges, who stood at a perfect distance to act as the arbiter of our duel.

"Morgana..." Arges began with a last attempt to dissuade her.

"I have no intention of withdrawing, Father! I have told you this repeatedly!" She shot back, cutting him off.

Just as I had suspected, Arges had attempted to talk his daughter out of this foolish endeavor, and he had spectacularly failed.

"I will make him pay for the disgrace he has brought upon you," she vowed, raising the tip of her wooden blade toward me, her scarlet eyes narrowed toward me.

"I am trembling with terror," I chuckled softly.

Her glare hardened even further. She cast a brief, disdainful glance toward the other side of the yard, taking in the dozens of spectators who were not part of my family or my wives.

"You should not have brought so large an audience," she muttered.

"Cease your endless prattling, Morgana. Or are your feet growing cold already?" I said.

Her head snapped back toward her father, signaling she was ready.

Arges let out a resigned sigh.

"No essence is to be used, nor is the channeling of any bloodline permitted," he said, his voice ringing out with serious, setting the rules of engagement.

It was a necessary restriction. If essence were permitted, my beautiful courtyard would quickly be reduced to ruin. And as for bloodlines... it was best not to even entertain the thought.

Morgana possessed a strong lineage, to be sure from her father. But I carried the Bloodline of the Sun itself within my veins.

"The duel shall conclude only when one party formally declares forfeit, or is incapable of continuing. As arbiter, I reserve the authority to halt this bout should either combatant’s life be placed in danger," Arges concluded.

Naturally, that was the most vital rule of all. This was an exhibition of skill and a settling of grievances, not a fight to the death.

Arges raised his hand high, his gaze sweeping between the two of us as we assumed our stances.

I casually raised my sword with a single hand, whereas Morgana shifted into a formal stance. Her grip tightened around the hilt with both hands, hoisting the blade in a perfect, rigid mirror of how Arges himself would wield it.

A stretching silence descended upon the courtyard until Arges swiftly lowered his arm.

"Begin!"

Morgana moved first, launching herself forward with a rush.

I stood perfectly still, waiting as she stamped the earth heavily. Her blade became a quick flash, slicing through the air. Though it was merely a wooden practice sword, the force behind her swing could easily shatter bone and inflict grievous injury.

I simply raised my weapon, catching her descending strike.

The two wooden blades collided with a sharp crack, and I felt faint tremors of the impact crawl up my arm as I parried the blow. A sudden gust of wind whipped outward from the kinetic force of our clash.

Morgana leveled a glare at me.

I cast a brief glance toward her hands upon the hilt; her knuckles were white, gripped tight as she bore down with all her might. Yet, I did not yield a single inch, remaining rooted in my stance. Hardening my own grip upon the handle, I shoved her blade back with overwhelming force.

Sensing my superior physical might overpowering her own, Morgana hastily bounded backward to create distance.

"Fleeing already? Quite the maneuver for the proud daughter of the Scarlet Commander," I laughed, letting a mocking edge slip into my tone.

Biting her lip in frustration, Morgana surged forward once more. This time, she angled her sword, sweeping it into a, horizontal arc, but I forcefully struck down upon her blade with a heavy, downward swing.

"Nghh!"

She felt the brunt of that clash. I could tell by the way the impact sent a shock of numbness racing up her arm, though through stubbornness, she refused to relinquish her grip. Seamlessly shifting her stance, she lashed out, snapping her left leg up to strike at my exposed flank.

I raised my right arm, absorbing the blow instantly. The heavy thud of her shin colliding against my forearm echoed sharply, yet I stood still. Realizing her strike had failed, she vaulted backward, quickly raising her sword with both hands once again.

"Pathetic," I said.

I simply had to say it. Morgana’s eyes narrowed into dangerous, blazing slits.

"Cease these foolish, wasted movements. They will never work against me," I goaded her. "Move with purpose, Morgana. Show me at least a fraction of the skill worthy of Arges’s name."

The provocation worked instantly. Triggered by the insult to her father’s legacy, she darted toward me even faster, her weapon held high.

Crack!

Crack!

Craaack!

What followed was a breathless, chaotic clash of weaponry as she unleashed a flurry of descending strikes. Sharp cracks echoed throughout the yard, but it was merely the groan of the wooden swords themselves, tiny splinters of wood bursting outward with every collision.

She was fast, aiming at dangerous angles. Truly, anyone among the onlookers could easily tell that her pure swordsmanship and technical skill far outclassed my own.

All I did was parry, taking calculated steps to the side and parrying again while she proved herself an exquisite master of the blade. Many in the crowd were visibly astonished by her elegant footwork and blistering speed.

Yet, Morgana herself was deeply unsatisfied. She was pouring her very soul into this assault, but it was painfully obvious to her that I was merely toying with her. The gap between us was not a matter of skill, but of raw power.

"You have quite the magnificent swing, Morgana," I said, flashing a calm smile.

She answered with another strike aimed squarely at my throat, but I lazily parried it once more, the dull flat of my weapon halting hers a mere inch from my neck.

"But you are pitifully weak," I added.

"Shut your mouth! You are not even fighting me! You are only cowering behind your parries and force!" She spat, taking a heavy step back to catch her breath.

"You truly wish for me to fight back?" I sighed heavily.

I allowed a heavy silence to stretch between us, briefly closing my eyes before slowly opening them again. The mocking smile was entirely erased from my lips, replaced by a gaze as cold as the deepest winter.

And then, I moved.

"!"

Morgana barely even registered my approach as I closed the distance in a flash, swinging my sword squarely toward her. Moving purely on instinct, she just barely managed to raise her guard in time. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Craaack!!

"Ngh!" She grunted painfully, gritting her teeth as the shock of the impact left her arms trembling.

I did not afford her a single second to recover. Pivoting sharply, I raised my right leg, sweeping it into a blistering roundhouse kick that slammed directly into her arm.

Morgana let out a stifled cry. Unable to resist the overwhelming pain and kinetic shock, she was sent flying off her feet, crashing hard onto her side and rolling across the ground.

I did not halt my assault, taking another rapid step forward to close the distance even faster. Scrambling, Morgana turned and raised her gaze, only to see the menacing shadow of my sword looming high above her.

Her eyes widened in panic as she raised her wooden blade to defend herself.

I brought my weapon crashing down.

CRACK!!!

Her sword instantly snapped in twain, the splintered top half of the wooden weapon sent spinning wildly through the air. Morgana’s eyes widened even further in disbelief, just a fraction of a second before my boot connected with her ribs in a ruthless kick to her side.

"Aghhh!" She cried out, her body sent tumbling across the grass once again as her grip on the broken hilt finally went slack.

"Stand up, Morgana. Is this truly all the daughter of the great Arges has to offer?" I asked, letting out a condescending snort.

Stung by the humiliation, she immediately scrambled to her feet.

"The lady Raimond requires another weapon," I said, tossing a brief, glance toward one of the attending knights.

The man hurriedly tossed a fresh wooden sword into the ring. Morgana caught it deftly out of the air, though her hand lingered briefly to pat her left arm, the very limb I had just kicked, which was now trembling uncontrollably.

I raised a brow.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Morgana? Are you in need of a little break?"