Volume 2 Chapter 21 Duel
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”I will now begin the deliberation of the petitioner, the Audienceⁿ. Larry Fee Getys, step forward.”
The trembling that had seized me several times until then finally stopped.
The thirst for life had overtaken the fear of death.
The verdict might already be decided.
Even so, I’m going to survive.
I absolutely will.
I stood where the three people before me had been judged.
Right next to me was the execution site of the two who were just killed.
The blood was already turning black, and an indescribable stench wafted through the air.
”Stop there,” said the official.
Doing as the official ordered, I turned my gaze toward the stage.
In the center of the crowd-people who didn’t even flinch at the sight of two executions-sat the King I had spoken with in Vod Fortress.
He didn’t have that smile from back then.
He was looking at me with an expression like a Noh mask, or a patient deep in depression.
(If I can just bring some emotion back to that face…)
It might backfire, but I felt like it would increase my chances of survival.
”Is this person undoubtedly Larry Fee Getys of Strock Village, Viscounty of Bizan?” the official asked.
The official who had been announcing the verdicts spoke in a heavy voice, but he wasn’t looking at me.
A Mage in robes stood beside me before I realized it.
She answered in a voice loud enough to drown out any reply I might have made, confirming there was no mistake.
It was the voice of the serious-looking one among the three Mages who had interrogated me.
To the official, she-who had touched my consciousness directly-was more trustworthy than my own words.
I looked around the room.
Many people, likely witnesses, lined the walls of the dome.
To my left front, near the stage, Marquis-something-or-other-the one who tried to kidnap Nico-was smirking at me.
(If I’m going to make a run for it, I’ll use that spot as the exit. I’ll turn him into charcoal as a parting gift.)
Once the Mage finished the identity verification, the official gave a grand nod.
He unrolled a vertical scroll and began reading the charges.
The prosecutor was Marquis Harritz, the King’s father-in-law.
My crime was “standing in the way of a horse ridden by a Noble.”
A trivial thing. It wasn’t about saving Nico.
It wasn’t about stopping those idiots from crashing the Magic School’s rookie welcome party.
They say the crime is simply that I stood in front of a Noble’s horse.
”Lèse-majestéⁿ against a Noble. Therefore, I demand the death penalty,” the official declared.
I just stood in front of the horse that Noble brat was riding and dodged a spear.
Does that really deserve death?
Anger boiled up inside me.
But one word gave me pause.
”Demand.”
For the three people before me, death or exile was pronounced immediately.
I remembered hearing that because a local lord cannot judge someone with “Audience” status, the case is sent to the Royal Capital for deliberation.
So, I’m not being sentenced without question-the trial is only just beginning.
A ray of hope appeared.
(Maybe this is what the Sage meant when they said that if I speak to His Majesty the King, ‘It’s a dictatorship, so things can be settled.’)
My trust in those words had vanished after my talk with the facility manager.
I had lost it completely after seeing the Mercenary and the gentle-looking man executed.
But the word “demand” brought that trust back to life.
They said I was prosecuted for the intrusion at the Magic School.
I had knocked that guy around when I saved Nico; if they wanted to charge me with lèse-majesté, that would have been a much stronger reason…
(Is he hiding that because he’s afraid his own crimes will come out? Or is he avoiding it because the fact that he performed a dogezaⁿ-a shameful act for a Noble-would become public?)
I see.
They don’t want that incident to be a point of contention in this trial.
In other words, if I bring up the story of him begging on his hands and knees, I might find a breakthrough.
Of course, it could also go the other way.
To do that, I need to get them to let me defend myself.
”Now then, Clara Luxembourg, Chairperson of the Kingdom Government Magical Deliberation Committee, present the results of the interrogation,” said the official.
As the official finished reading the charges, one of the Mages stepped forward.
She pulled back her hood and knelt on one knee to greet His Majesty the King on the dais.
Long ears. An Elf?
”I will now report the results of the interrogation. First, I will state the reason why the defendant, Larry Fee Getys, stood in the way of Marc von Harritz, who intruded into the Bizan Magic School courtyard on horseback,” the Chairperson stated.
She stood up and began to speak.
She described how the crowd had gathered for the party at the Magic School when five men from the Bizan General School barged in on horses.
How they wore masks and carried spears.
”The Magic School is having a party? Let’s crush it!” one yelled.
”If there are any hot babes, let’s snatch ’em!” another added.
She reported that they were shouting things like that.
She mentioned that Lieutenant Louise and Second Lieutenant Isabella of the Kingdom Army, who were present, moved to stop them.
As a result, she explained that the four men-excluding Marc von Harritz-pointed their spears at the Kingdom Army officers and were knocked unconscious by the two lieutenants.
She added that those four were found guilty of treason for pointing weapons at Army officers, and their death sentences were confirmed and carried out immediately.
His Majesty the King sat in his chair at the front, flanked by formally dressed subordinates.
One military man-tall despite his age and covered in jingling medals-turned bright red with rage as he listened.
Beside him, a chubby military man glared at me with an expression that looked like he wanted to curse me to death.
”It means he stood in front of Marc von Harritz’s horse to prevent the students from being kidnapped, following the lead of the two lieutenants,” the Chairperson concluded.
”See! Those are the facts! The crime is clear! This is lèse-majesté! Death!” Marquis Harritz roared.
Without waiting for the Deliberation Chairperson to catch her breath, the tall old soldier with the red face shouted, trying to force a verdict.
”Marquis Harritz, the report is not finished. Be silent,” the official snapped.
The old Marquis naturally tried to object, but the official who read the charges scolded him.
The Marquis shut his mouth, though he looked far from satisfied.
(So that old geezer is Marquis Harritz. He’s probably only a few years older than I was in my previous life, but he has absolutely no self-control.)
”Chairperson, please continue,” the official said.
Ignoring the grumpy old man, the Chairperson went on.
”Regarding whether Larry Fee Getys knew that the person behind the mask was Marc von Harritz… he did.”
”Does that mean Larry Fee Getys already knew Marc von Harritz?” the presiding official asked.
”Yes. Two days prior to this, Larry Fee Getys’s companion was Mar—”
”That story is irrelevant! The fact remains that this brat knew my grandson!” Marquis Harritz interrupted.
The old Marquis interrupted again.
Because of that, it was obvious he didn’t want the incident with Nico brought up.
”Yes. He reportedly recognized Marc von Harritz by his voice when he entered the courtyard,” the Chairperson said.
”Then it’s settled!” the Marquis declared.
The redness in his face faded as he looked triumphant.
”No. It appears Larry Fee Getys did not recognize Marc von Harritz as a Noble,” the Chairperson countered.
”Wha… what?” the Marquis stammered.
The redness flared up again.
”It is because Marc von Harritz performed a dogeza and apologized to him,” the Chairperson revealed.
”Shut up!” the Marquis snapped.
But the witnesses surrounding the hall began to stir and whisper.
”That’s a lie! Nonsense! I demand a change of the Deliberation Chairperson!” the Marquis screamed.
(I can’t let him pull that off.)
”It’s the truth! And it wasn’t just me! In front of a huge crowd, he put his forehead to the ground over and over again, apologizing and saying he’d never do it again! There weren’t just civilians there, but guards from the Viscounty of Bizan, too! Besides, a Noble hiding his face with a mask to attack a school? Aren’t Nobles supposed to be fair and honorable, always showing their faces?” I shouted.
The hall fell silent at my shouting.
”I heard Marc von Harritz is a second son. A second son isn’t necessarily a Noble…”
”Is a person who prostrates himself in public and then attacks a school while hiding his face truly a noble?”
The moment I finished saying it, I felt a bit refreshed… but this might be bad.
”You! By whose permission do you speak!?” the official acting as the moderator barked.
Well, that’s how it is; even in a Japanese court, you only speak after being granted permission.
And besides, I’m currently the defendant here.
But still.
I can’t back down now.
My life is on the line.
The commotion in the crowd grew even louder.
The old Marquis’s face is turning so red it looks like it’s about to boil.
”Enough! End these deliberations! I can’t stay for such idiocy!” he roared, his voice even louder than mine.
”Then, will you withdraw the charges?” the official asked.
”How could such a thing be allowed!?” the Marquis snapped.
”In that case—”
I can’t follow the exchange between the Marquis and the official.
”A duel! We shall settle this matter with a duel!”
When the old man howled, the entire venue erupted in a stir that seemed to shake the room.
A duel?
(What’s that? Does it taste good?)
…This isn’t the time for cracking jokes.
I stole a glance at the King; for a second, he seemed to be smiling, but his face immediately returned to that expressionless, Noh-mask-like stare.
(Um, if you actually received a request from the Sage, I think right now would be the time to intervene.)
”Your Majesty, shall we permit the proceedings to be changed to a duel?” the official asked.
”I do not mind,” the King replied.
He gave a curt, quiet response to the official’s question.
(Wait, did he not meet the Sage? Or did he just forget about me?)
”Ladies and gentlemen, today’s Audience² has been changed to a duel!”
Once again, a massive clamor echoes through the dome.
”There will be preparations, so please wait a moment,” the announcer called out.
Hearing that, the witnesses began moving around like a soccer crowd during halftime.
”Hey, hold still,” a young official said as he approached.
He untied the ropes binding my upper body.
As I rubbed my arms to get the blood flowing again, he brought me an undershirt and some tights.
(Thank god. This will take the edge off the cold, and more importantly, I can fight without my c**k and balls swinging all over the place.)
”Um, what about weapons?” I asked the young official who brought the clothes.
”You can use Mana¹, so you’ll be fighting bare-handed,” the official replied.
”Then, what about the other guy?”
”I assume they’ll prepare something for him?”
Figures.
The match ends when someone dies, becomes incapacitated, or admits defeat.
And apparently, if I win, I go free, but if I lose, it’s a beheading.
(What the hell is that shitty Sage doing? This dictatorship is completely useless.)
Well, my opponent is just that noble Rich Boy.
I’ll turn him into cinders the moment we start.
Looking toward the front left of the arena, I see him trying to put on something that looks like chainmail.
It looks heavy just by looking at it.
(I’ll stay light on my feet. I’ll either get close enough to drain his Mana or just blast him with a Fireball.)
No, if he’s going to be that sluggish, I should just knock him down with a kick or a leg sweep, take the mount, and put his lights out.
I think about such things while going through my warm-up.
After all, if I lose this, it’s Head-lopping¹, so I have to consider every possible move, no matter how dirty it is.
Can I pull off an eye-gouge?
Observing him, he’s wearing these slitted metal plates that look like those goggle-eyed Dogu statues over his eyes.
On top of that, the vital parts of his body are covered in metal plates over a layer of chainmail.
And his weapon is a sword.
It isn’t particularly long, but even if the edge isn’t facing me, I get the feeling the sheer weight would send me flying if it connected.
Back in the other world, I hardly ever got into fights.
My resolve to survive hasn’t wavered, but whenever I get dragged into something outside my area of expertise, anxiety starts to rear its head.
Still, I need to remember.
I was taught Shorinji Kempo once because a friend invited me. I quit after three months because I couldn’t really get into it, but I did learn kicks, strikes, and joint locks.
Other than that, there was some Judo during high school gym class, I guess. I wonder if a foot sweep would work.
Everything else I know comes from watching ‘Enter the Dragon’ on TV, reading ‘Ashita no Joe,’ or flipping through some random delinquent manga a friend brought me when I was in the hospital after a car accident.
It’s a pretty shaky foundation.
However, since coming to this world, I have killed people.
Back then, I was just acting like a madman because I wanted to live. It’s okay to be that way now, too. That’s how I’ll look at it.
The stage itself is the same as before, but the area below has been cleared out; there’s no fighting ring, but a dedicated space has been set up instead.
Finally, Marc the Rich Boy and I were called to the center. The referee is the young official who brought me my undershirt and tights.
I’ve already ditched the tights because they didn’t grip the floor well, and I felt like I was going to slip.
Marc the Rich Boy is in full-body armor. He’s covered from head to toe in something like chainmail, with plates protecting his eyes, chest, and groin, but he’s moving slowly—likely because of the weight.
On top of all that, he’s carrying a heavy-looking sword.
”Once we begin, the match will not end until someone is unable to move or one side surrenders. Understood?” the official said.
That was the only explanation from the referee. In other words, it’s a no-holds-barred, unlimited-time match. Well, I’m not losing to this guy.
”Begin!” the official shouted.
The moment the signal was given, the spectators let out a massive cheer. They’re getting a good show.
As soon as it started, Marc threw his scabbard aside. If I remember right, there was a time during Nico’s turn where he tried to draw his sword and got it stuck. Maybe he wanted to avoid a repeat of that.
Then, he gripped the sword with both hands and, incredibly, stopped moving in a standard mid-level guard.
Whenever I try to circle around him, he just pivots his body without breaking his stance.
”So you’re just going to hide behind your defense, you coward?” I said.
I speak just loud enough for Marc to hear, but he doesn’t flinch. I guess if you’re wearing armor that heavy, you can’t really go on the offensive, but I wonder how he actually plans on winning.
Fine then, I’ll go pick up the scabbard he threw away.
”That’s cheating! That belongs to Marc!” some guy yelled.
Looking over, a pudgy middle-aged man on the platform is screaming his head off. Maybe that’s Colonel Taisa or whatever they called him; I almost died in Garao Village because of that guy.
The scabbard was discarded, so what’s the big deal? I’m surprised when I actually grab it—the thing is unexpectedly heavy.
(This’ll work just fine…)
I head back to Marc while holding it. He’s still in that same mid-level guard.
When I flick his blade with the scabbard, it takes him forever to bring it back into position.
I smack the sword aside with the scabbard using all my strength, then grab the hilt with one hand and throw my weight into him. Marc falls over with pathetic ease. Is he really a noble, or just a piece of work? To his credit, he hasn’t let go of the sword.
In that case, I use the scabbard to hammer away at his chainmail-covered fingers, putting my full weight into every thrust. As expected, the pain is too much for him, and he lets go of his only weapon.
Now that I’ve got him here…
Just to be safe, I kick the sword away, flip him onto his back, and take the mount. Whether he’s given up or he’s just too heavy to move, he isn’t fighting back.
I slowly manifest a Fireball and lower it toward Marc’s face.
”If you don’t say ‘I surrender,’ your face is going to end up smooth as a bowling ball,” I said.
I give him the warning, but there’s no answer. Fine then. It’s a pity, but…
As the Fireball gets close to Marc’s face and brushes against his Magic-thread Chainmail², the yellow sphere of flame suddenly fizzles out.
”Huh?” I muttered.
I create another Fireball and bring it close—almost shoving it into him this time—but it just vanishes again.
”You idiot. This is chainmail woven from silver and mana-thread; it sucks up magic from a loser like you,” Marc said.
I can hear him laughing from behind the mask, but if that’s the case, I have other ways to deal with him.
The moment that thought crosses my mind, he shoves me off with his left hand. An arm weighted down by armor has a surprising amount of destructive force. I’m sent flying about two meters. My right ankle is screaming in pain.
Fine. The sword is lying right there in front of me.
I grab it and head back toward Marc, who is currently on all fours trying to stand up. Chainmail is great against slashing, but it’s supposed to be weak against blunt impact.
This sword doesn’t have a sharp point, but since it’s heavy, it’ll work as a club.
I swing it down onto his hip with everything I’ve got. Once, twice, three times. I’m starting to get winded, but I pull back for one more swing…
”Stop!” the young official shouted.
The referee stepped in between us. I did it. I won.
I reflexively pump my fists and jump for joy, but it feels like I’ve definitely sprained my right ankle, so I end up hopping around while trying to protect it.
”To the center,” the official said.
He’s telling me to get back to the starting line. Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.
I start heading back to my spot, feeling pretty good, but something feels off. Is it because they don’t like seeing a commoner beat a noble? There isn’t a single person clapping.
Whatever, this means I get to go home.
The referee official walks over with a grim expression.
”Marc von Harritz has invoked his right to a proxy. Therefore, the match will now proceed between Larry Getys Fee and the proxy. Proxy, step forward,” the official said.
The words don’t even make sense to me. I get the feeling the duel isn’t actually over, but I’m in no mood to accept that.
Because just now, I had absolutely won.
”A… proxy?” I asked.
I can’t help but question the young official.
”That is correct. It is common practice for a noble to appoint a proxy during a duel,” the official replied.
”No, no, no! You can’t just swap people out in the middle of a fight! This is a joke!” I said.
This is so irrational… or wait, is this just how ‘common sense’ works in this world? If I want to survive, I have to take down the proxy too.
Dammit.
I look up to see a lean, muscular guy who looks a bit like Bours-san walking toward me. The only consolation is that he isn’t wearing chainmail.
”Don’t go thinking magic of your level is going to work on me,” the man said.
He says it as if he’s reading my mind.
”I’ll give you a handicap. You can keep using that sword,” the man said.
He points to Marc’s sword.
”And what are you using?” I asked.
”This iron fist is all I need,” the man replied.
He’s acting like a total hotshot, which probably means he’s actually strong. The pressure coming off him is intense. What do I have to do to survive this?
(Think… just think…)
There wasn’t even time to think. The fight was over in an instant.
This guy, he certainly has amazing punches just as he says, but his footwork is completely useless. Once I calmed down and looked, I could read the trajectory of the punches and avoid them easily.
I couldn’t easily get inside his guard, but his stamina ran out from swinging and missing, and just as his concentration was failing, I parried a straight punch, grabbed his arm, and performed Mana Draining³ all at once.
He won’t be moving for a while.
”Stop! Return to the center!” the official shouted.
”Next proxy, step forward!” the official shouted.
I heard those words three or four more times. Is draining Mana to incapacitate an opponent actually some kind of insane skill? Apparently so.
I’ve now won three matches in a row against people I should have had zero chance of beating in a fair fight. If the opponents had been wearing magic-defending chainmail like Marc, I wouldn’t have lasted this far. It is a victory thanks to them underestimating me.
But I’m hitting my limit, both physically and mentally. The pressure of ‘lose and die’ is a massive weight on my mind.
How many more do I have to fight? My body is taking a beating, too. It isn’t just the sprained ankle; my shoulder is throbbing, and I’ve probably got one or two cracked ribs. Just breathing makes two or three places hurt.
”This is the last one. The rules dictate a maximum of five opponents,” the young official told me.
So this is it. I can give this last one everything I’ve got and be done with it… assuming the referee isn’t lying to me. A flicker of doubt crosses my mind.
Either way, I’m running on empty. I look up to see a small figure in a robe—a Mage?—walking from the other side.
No way. I know that silhouette.
The Mage reaches for their hood and pulls it back, revealing their face. Short-cropped silver hair, piercing blue eyes that command the room, the long ears characteristic of an Elf, and an aura that screams ‘stay away.’
”I am the 101st Golem Battalion¹ Grand Commander, Major Sonya Kittynoir,” Sonya said.
(Why… why are you here?)
”My, my, I’m so-o-o surprised, so-o-o surprised. Now then, it’s playtime, Ra-ri-i-kun,” Sonya teased.
She had started using that annoying, gal-type way of speaking.
(At this rate, there’s no doubt about it… I’m going to be tormented.)
(And then, after I’ve been turned into her toy, will I just be executed? Even though I worked so hard to get this far?)
—
Summary:
Larry Fee Getys stands trial in the Royal Capital, facing a capital charge of lèse-majesté for blocking a noble’s horse. The trial reveals a conflict between the incriminating charges pushed by Marquis Harritz and the mitigating facts presented by the Elven chairperson, Clara Luxembourg. As Larry realizes the noble, Marc, previously groveled in public, he finds a potential lever to challenge his execution while the courtroom falls into a tense silence.
The protagonist provokes the court by questioning the nobility of his accusers, leading to an explosive outburst from the Marquis. The King permits a transition from legal trial to a duel to the death. The protagonist prepares for battle while questioning the absence of the Sage’s promised help
Larry Getys Fee wins a desperate duel against Marc von Harritz by exploiting the noble’s sluggish armor and draining his weapon. However, he is forced into a series of brutal endurance matches against elite proxies. The narrative tension peaks as a powerful silver-haired Elf appears as the fifth and final opponent
Major Sonya Kittynoir reveals herself to the protagonist, shifting from a military posture to a predatory, mocking persona. The protagonist realizes the dire situation, fearing torture and eventual execution. The encounter ends on a cliffhanger regarding the protagonist’s fate
—
Trivia:
- The mention of Vod Fortress suggests a prior significant interaction between Larry and the King.
- The four other intruders were executed immediately for treason, highlighting the severity of the military laws.
- The protagonist explicitly compares the legal system to Japanese courts
- The protagonist notes the weight of the opponent’s chainmail
- Mention of a dome-shaped venue
- The protagonist specifically mentions Shorinji Kempo, a real-world Japanese martial art.
- The narrator admits to reading delinquent (yankee) manga during a hospital stay, suggesting his combat knowledge is a mix of pop culture and brief training.
- The use of ‘da’ in Sonya’s introduction establishes her immediate dominance
- The term ‘Ra-ri-i-kun’ utilizes a specific diminutive ‘i’ (ぃ) to maximize mocker
—
Character Insight:
Larry transitions from paralyzing fear to a calculated, aggressive survival instinct, demonstrating a willingness to publicly humiliate a noble family to save his own life.
The protagonist shifts from a defensive stance as a defendant to a proactive, lethal mindset as a combatant, showing high confidence in his magic.
Larry moves from nervous preparation to a frantic, adrenaline-fueled combat state, eventually realizing the efficiency of his Mana-draining ability.
Sonya displays a sadistic streak by treating a high-stakes military encounter as ‘playtime,’ signaling a shift from soldier to predator.
—
Glossary:
Notes:
• Getys – Larry Fee Getys, a youth from Strock Village in the Viscounty of Bizan, carries a lineage recognized within his academy’s social hierarchy, which is invoked by court officials to formally declare his innocence. Raised by his aunts Alisa and Monica, Larry belongs to a clan of rugged, battle-scarred warriors like Hardy and his late brother Denis, whose people fell to disease and war.
• Larry – A tall Level-3 mana user at Bizan Magic School with red-white skin, curly bronze hair, and eyes, Larry Fee Getys is a reincarnated former slave-soldier under house arrest and on trial. Married to Nico and linked to Monica, Teressa, and Louise, he uses modern knowledge for Golemics. Faced with a guilty verdict, he fights for survival in duels, his fear replaced by a fierce thirst for life.
• Fee – Larry Fee Getys, of the court-recognized Fee lineage, leads the Getys household in governing Strock Village alongside Hans and Iffens. Characterized by distinguished, cohesive authority, this fantasy protagonist embodies family legacy through his middle name. His structured, traditional household recently hired the maid Nico to serve Teressa, reinforcing their established noble stature.
• Bizan – The Bizan family name, held by the Viscount. He is the lord of the territory and owner of the castle built within the Danube River.
• Marquis – An elderly nobleman with a volatile temper. His face turns beet-red when insulted, and he is quick to abandon formal deliberation in favor of a violent resolution via duel.
• Nico – A petite, silver-haired student in a tailored maid outfit and floral hairpiece, she is a diligent yet anxious laundry worker and Village Head Fee member. Saved from a noble’s son by Larry, she is deeply devoted to him, sharing a proactive romantic bond where she protects and scolds him. Insecure from a past kidnapping, she relies on Marie, her confidante, while Larry constantly worries for her safety.
• Mar – A battle‑hardened veteran, clad in worn armor, uses door panels as shields and captures enemy crossbows; Larry’s comrade who teases him about his sister‑in‑law’s pampering, known as Martin to his companion Edmond.
• Harritz – A Marquis who observes the duel from the sidelines. He is a high-ranking noble who seems to be involved in the kingdom’s internal political strife. The family name of the Marquis who serves as the King’s father-in-law. He is an old, tall military man with a bearded face and a chest covered in medals.
• His Majesty – The King of the realm. He possesses a face described as an expressionless Noh mask, though he shows a flicker of amusement during the legal proceedings. He presides over the high-level deliberations and gives the final word on legal transitions such as duels.
• Luxembourg – The family name of Clara, the Elf presiding over the magical deliberation.
• Clara – A woman with long ears identified as an Elf. She serves as the Chairperson of the Kingdom Government Magical Deliberation Committee and wears a hooded robe.
• Marc – The second son of a noble family and grandson of Marquis Harritz. He wore a mask while riding into the Magic School courtyard and is known for having performed a dogeza apology.
• von – A gleaming noble particle of the Sabaski lineage, marking high social standing in the Kingdom. It belongs to Annerose von Bülow’s noble bloodline in the name of Marc von Harritz.
• Ho – Ho, a comrade of the protagonist. A member of the military unit that defended Garao Village and was slaughtered alongside Marx-san.
• Isabella – Towering and muscular, the jet-black and gold-uniformed Second Lieutenant in the Royal Army is the leader of the Weasels of Bohemia, who helped annex the region. A battle-hardened veteran with a low growl, short bob, and facial burn scar, she commands respect with monstrous strength and masterful spear combat. As aunt to student Marie, her noble connections earn admiration among the VIPs.
• Louise – A towering, seven-foot-tall Golem Battalion Vice Commander on the Western Front, she has a massive, muscular build, short red hair, and fierce, masculine features. Clad in black and gold military dress, her phantom-like prowess commands respect. Formerly a silent, hardworking soldier, she harbors a deep devotion to the protagonist, Larry, who others consider her “husband.”
• Bours – Tall, scarred, in a faded Royal Army uniform, Sullen Bours is a 46‑year‑old human yeoman who manages orchards and vineyards. A retired Western Front captain and Royal Military Academy alumnus who served under Duke Gerhard, he heads the 303rd Militia on the Elders’ Council, is married to Sheeta‑san, father of a conscripted son, and once saved Larry and Rudy.
• Commander – A man leading the mercenary press-gang at the south gate.
• Kittynoir – The Kittynoir family name, carried by Major and Golem Battalion Commander Sonya, represents the highest levels of military leadership and authority within the Kingdom of Schuberitz.
• Sonya – Major Sonya is a petite elf with a child’s height, pointed ears, and a cheerful voice. She commands the 101st Golem Battalion, wielding terrifying military power within the Schuberitz Kingdom. Masking her strength with a dual personality, she shifts from a formal officer to a cruel, mocking “gal-type” persona. She shows a predatory, mischievous interest in the protagonist’s development and is known for her sadistic mana injections.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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