Chapter 390: "Duel! I'm in a Hurry"

Annie Mecklenburg, as always, never placed any pressure on Charlot Mecklenburg.

Even though the two had known each other for a long time, Charlot never felt that this noble young lady ever displayed arrogance or flaunted her wealth. Annie always gave him the impression of an ordinary, quiet girl, without pursuing anything extraordinary or showing any unpleasant temperament.

Charlot only gradually realized later that Annie truly was unique. Not every noble lady was like her!

Menielman Soumet carried an imposing air of decisiveness, Princess May Guillaume had a peculiar temper and was reclusive, while Sophia Gallanord exhibited daring courage and cunning strategies...

Each of them was different from Annie.

Even Dolores Soumet, Anastasia, Belisa, and Frederica had shared characteristics that Annie lacked.

Time slipped by, and soon it was midday. Charlot selected a renowned old restaurant in the Lionheart Empire’s Asaburg. Much like the Fars Empire, the restaurant offered set menus. Charlot ordered a classic sausage platter of the Lionheart Empire, featuring twelve types of sausages with distinct flavors, paired with their signature buttered bread and strong local liquor, making for a satisfying meal.

Annie opted for a classic ladies’ meal, consisting mainly of stuffed buns in various flavors, each paired excellently with different fillings and breads. She also had a fruit platter and Farsian fruit wine, creating a meal with distinct charm.

The two chatted as they ate, with the meal taking more than an hour to finish.

As they left the restaurant, Charlot glanced at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain. He remarked, “It seems we won’t be able to stroll around this afternoon.”

Annie also looked at the sky and, with some regret, replied, “We’ll just have to return for now.”

Charlot went to fetch the carriage. The second-hand carriage he bought in Asaburg was far less convenient than the enchanted carriages of the Dark Luxury series. It couldn’t fold away at will or autonomously head to a destination. When he got off to attend to business, he had to tie the horse to a post, which was rather inconvenient.

The carriage was parked a bit farther away. When Charlot returned with it, he saw three or four men surrounding Annie. Rage flared in his chest. Leaping off the carriage, he shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?”

The leader of the group, a young man, raised an eyebrow and said, “We’re inviting this lady to have some fun.”

Charlot immediately sentenced him to death in his heart. Even if a scion of the Mossred Ducal Family had such an idea, Charlot wouldn’t hesitate to act, let alone these Asaburg youths.

He casually pulled out a pair of gloves, tossed them at the young man’s face, and declared, “A duel!”

“I’m in a hurry!”

The young men burst into laughter. One of them doubled over, struggling to catch his breath as he stammered, “He wants to duel Martiv?”

“Did you hear that? He wants to duel Martiv!”

The leader, Martiv, grinned as he drew his rapier and said, “Very well. I accept your duel.”

Charlot gave his wrist a flick, and the Blood Rose, his vampiric rapier, materialized with uncanny precision in his hand. With lightning speed, he thrust forward, and the smile on Martiv’s face froze. Charlot had pierced his forehead with a single strike.

Retracting the Blood Rose, Charlot asked calmly, “Why did you think I wouldn’t dare duel him?”

The other young men were frozen in terror. One of them stammered, “He... he’s a Transcendent!”

Charlot raised an eyebrow and replied indifferently, “That’s the weakest Transcendent I’ve ever killed.”

He extended his hand, and Annie placed her delicate fingers into his. He helped her into the carriage before turning back to the terrified youths and saying, “Next time, don’t do such disgraceful things.”

“Transcendents aren’t always as great as you think.”

Before Charlot could finish his sentence, someone began clapping. A voice said, “Well said. Transcendents aren’t always great.”

“And when I kill you, I’ll make sure to leave those words behind as well.”

Charlot followed the voice and was surprised to see an old acquaintance: Hughes, a member of the South Seraph Restorationists.

The two were sworn enemies who hadn’t crossed paths in some time.

Though they hadn’t fought much in the real world, their clashes in Saint Karen’s dreamscape were countless—easily numbering in the hundreds. Charlot had honed much of his swordsmanship against Hughes.

There was a deep-seated blood feud between them.

Hughes longed to kill Charlot. After Charlot had slain Jonan amidst a vast army and recently annexed all of South Seraph, reducing the region to desolation, Hughes bore an unquenchable grudge. However, he had been tied up in the Ferranden battlefield, unable to pursue his vendetta.

Learning of Charlot’s diplomatic mission to the Lionheart Empire, Hughes had infiltrated the delegation under Julian Arsilo’s banner. Yet, after making a splash upon his arrival, Charlot had become reclusive, denying Hughes the opportunity to confront him.

Today, while patrolling the Cold Spring Palace and finding no sign of Charlot, Hughes had stepped out for a meal, only to stumble upon his nemesis by sheer coincidence.

Hughes lifted the knight’s lance from his shoulder and said with a cold smile, “Duel!”

“I’m in a hurry!” Charlot said with a wry smile. “Fine. I accept your duel.”

He reached behind him, opened the Mirror of Magic, and drew forth Berserker Blade, his immense longspear.

Without so much as a greeting, Charlot’s arms surged with strength, and he lunged forward with a powerful thrust.

Hughes, a graduate of Byron’s Tübingen University and an expert in the Ebrelrahan Clan’s Blood Furnace and Golden Requiem, wielded his lance with ferocious aggression. His body, honed to the toughness of tempered steel, made him a formidable foe. Knowing his adversary’s style intimately, Charlot showed no mercy, targeting Hughes’s weaknesses from the outset.

Hughes, startled by the ferocity of Charlot’s strike, exclaimed, “Since when did you advance to the high ranks?”

Fending off the blow, Hughes countered with immense force and declared, “Let me show you. I’ve reached the pinnacle of high-rank Transcendence, the eighteenth rank of a Blood Knight!”

Charlot, feeling the staggering power in Hughes’s attack, quipped, “What have you been eating? You’re as strong as a Bear King!”

Hughes ignored the jab. The two were mortal enemies with no room for idle chatter.

After a dozen exchanges, both marveled at the other’s rapid progress. Hughes, in particular, was astounded. The old Charlot would have barely lasted a few dozen moves, but now, despite the gap in their Transcendent ranks, their fight was evenly matched.

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