Chapter 74: True Intentions

As our daggers clashed fiercely, I found my other dagger deflected. Combat with short-bladed weapons like daggers emphasized footwork. It wasn't just about arm strength; incorporating the movement of the entire body added power and speed to attacks.

Twisting my body gracefully, narrowly avoiding a thrust, I contracted, executed a spin, and delivered a kick. My well-aimed strike merely grazed the count's elbow. He stepped back three paces.

The exchange of techniques continued. This guy isn't lacking in physical activity. Surely, he spends a significant amount of time practicing martial arts daily. As the count lunged forward again, his tall frame became half its original length. His extended arm reached me slightly longer than I anticipated. The dagger I managed to parry wasn't gripped entirely, just the tip of the handle between his thumb and forefinger.

Despite adding a twist to entangle his wrist, I couldn't disarm him. Such finger strength. The count pulled his extended arm back and swung down with the opposite hand. Parry, thrust, deflect, evade. An eternity seemed to pass. At least the confident smile faded from the count's face, providing some relief.

We clashed dozens of times. My body still moved, but my concentration waned first. Sneaking around the abandoned mine, adding sleeping powder to the count's wine jug, finding Robert for a secret meeting had worn down my mental strength. My dagger, which I thought had blocked a sidelong strike, was knocked away. The other blade, I realized, was now pointed at my throat.

"...I yield."

I exhaled deeply, and my entire body lost strength, collapsing to the floor. Gasping for breath, I glanced at the Count, who was also catching his breath, wiping sweat from his forehead with long sleeves. Crossed daggers poised in the familiar stance, he bowed deeply.

Moving along the wall, he pulled a hanging rope. While he fetched the daggers from the shelf and grabbed a towel, I managed to stand up. The count, wearing a friendly smile, handed me the other towel.

"Ah, yes. That's refreshing."

At that moment, a knocking sound echoed through the door. With the Count's permission, the door opened, revealing a young woman pushing a stylish wagon loaded with items. She wore simple yet elegant attire. On the wagon were bottles and two glasses. Seeing the Count half-naked, the young woman widened her eyes, blushed instantly, mumbled something, and hurriedly left.

The Count poured a drink into the glasses and offered one to me.

"I squeezed the juice of local fruits and chilled it with well water. It's said to aid recovery from fatigue and make the body more flexible."

The pale yellow liquid, when sipped, was strongly acidic with a faint bitterness.

The Count, after finishing his drink, offered a refill. As I enjoyed my second glass, he grinned.

"I might have misled the maid."

"What do you mean?"

"We were engaged in weapons practice here. It's obvious, isn't it?"

"I suppose it's only natural."

"I took off my shirt, and, well, I moved vigorously, so my complexion improved."

The Count picked up the discarded shirt.

"I might have caused a misunderstanding among the maids."

"Is that so?"

"I might be the talk of the town now, a middle-aged man enjoying the company of a younger man. Quite scandalous."

I nearly spit out the juice I was sipping. Whether it was my flustered reaction or something else, the count burst into laughter.

"If you react like that, are men outside your defense zone?"

Despite having no interest, his cool gaze, flowing gently, created an unexpectedly captivating beauty.

"Now then, let's stop this jest. Anyway, let me hear your response to my proposal the other day."

"I apologize, but I must decline."

"Hmm, I expected as much."

The Count seemed surprisingly nonchalant.

"How about another glass? Well then, I'll have it myself."

He poured the remaining juice into the glass and savored it, enjoying the fragrance.

"If I were to resort to force, what would you do?"

"I would resist with all my strength."

The Count raised an elegant eyebrow. His expression spoke of the irony that I had spoken of resisting even though I couldn't win a one-on-one duel.

"I may not be much myself, but I'll ask fir help from my comrades."

"A holy knight, a high-ranking priest, huh ... The mage seems quite skilled, and the young warrior appears to have robust physical strength. Well, with my forces, it might be a bit challenging. Alright, let's give up for now, shall we?"

"Well, if that's the case."

"However, you won't always be with your comrades, right? Especially the holy knight, who must be quite busy. Without him, you might not resist adequately. I'm fine, but what if other individuals force that girl to yield in the future? What will you do?"

I bowed as respectfully as possible to the count.

"I humbly accept your honorable decision."

"I see. Have you understood my intentions?"

"I didn't understand until we spoke today."

"That must have been quite frustrating. I apologize for causing you such distress."

"No, I won't worry about it in the future. Regarding your proposal, I can say, 'I have a prior engagement with Count Reckenberg' to handle inquiries. What I don't understand is the reason for receiving such consideration."

"It's a simple matter. I can extend you a favor with just a word."

"Even if you extend a favor to me..."

"It means something. The value of the holy knight is higher than you think. It's significant that I can extend a favor to your friend. Oh, and not just that. You have your own value. You may not realize it yourself."

Saying so, the Count closed one eye.

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Author's Note

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