A bolt of blue-white mana shot straight toward Rasantark. He dodged at once, his shield arm raised, while Cordula and my knights cried, “Geteilt!” A massive explosion resounded moments later, creating shockwaves that spread all the way back to me.
“Lady Hannelore, that was far too dangerous!” Rasantark yelped.
“Yet it paled in comparison to the danger you are causing! Attacking an apprentice scholar without restraint... What in the world were you thinking?! You were not given approval for this, were you?”
Rasantark faltered in the face of my sharp eyes. “But, Lady Hannelore! There are times when men have no choice but to fight!”
“Duels are strictly forbidden. If you wish to battle, then seek permission and do it properly: in a fair, honest ditter match. A knight of Dunkelfelger succumbing to emotion and bringing his might to bear against an unprepared scholar is simply unforgivable. Expect my brother to hear about this.”
It was then that Professor Rauffen burst onto the scene. “Forgive me, Lady Hannelore!” he boomed. “You were forced to carry out my work in my absence! Kenntrips, Rasantark—you weren’t authorized to duel. Are you prepared to face the consequences?”
“I apologize,” Kenntrips said without any further prompting. But his words only angered Rasantark, who leapt on him in a rage.
“Are you serious?!” the apprentice knight yelled. “Tell them the truth! Tell them you never fought back!”
“Rasantark?!” I shrieked, but Professor Rauffen leapt down from the audience stands, seized the knight by the wrist, and threw him aside. He then bound the troublemaker with light, forcing him to calm down.
Was it true that Kenntrips had never fought back? Even when Rasantark had sprung at him and grabbed him by the chest, the apprentice scholar had made no attempt to strike back. Now he simply rubbed the creases out of his clothes. Kenntrips’s composure only served to anger his opponent further, as Rasantark continued to roar from where he was restrained on the ground.
“We have before us fortune beyond our wildest dreams!” he exclaimed, his chestnut eyes swimming with a multitude of colors as his fury swelled. “I was so grateful that I wanted to thank the gods with a ditter match. You must have felt the same. Why, then, are you letting our fortune go?! Answer me, Kenntrips!”
Kenntrips appeared calm as he gazed down at Rasantark, but colors swirled in his eyes too. “There was nothing for me to let go of. Fortune was never within my reach to begin with.”
“It might not be in my hands right now, but I will obtain it. I’ll spare no effort. If you won’t even strive for it, then at least have the decency to stay out of my way!”
“I can make no promises. Whether you obstruct me or not, I shall continue to act in accordance with my wishes. We are both merely following our desires—what is wrong with that?”
I could not deduce what they were fighting over, but I could tell that Rasantark’s assault was unilateral. Kenntrips remained the model of cold rejection. The two half-brothers had seemed so close before that I had no idea how to mediate a fight between them.
“Lady Hannelore!” Professor Rauffen boomed, tearing me from my thoughts so suddenly that I twitched. “It would be best to separate these two until things between them have calmed down. Kenntrips appears in control of his emotions; could you interrogate him for details?”
“If she’s going to interrogate anyone, it should be—”
“I’ll deal with you, hothead,” our supervisor said, cutting Rasantark short. He grabbed the unruly apprentice and hoisted him up with ease. “Kenntrips, go to Lady Hannelore.”
So, he intended to separate the pair by force. Kenntrips rode his highbeast to the audience stands while Rasantark watched me over Professor Rauffen’s shoulder, a look of extreme displeasure on his face.
“Lady Hannelore,” he called as they went, “I apologize, but I must ask that you heal Kenntrips. Cure the stupidity that will ruin his future as a scholar.”
I merely blinked at him. Rasantark had never spoken in such a manner before.
“Kenntrips!” he roared. “I am not giving up!” There was more he wanted to shout, I was sure, but that was the most he managed to get out before he was finally taken away.
“What... in the world was all that?” I asked, looking up at Kenntrips. Despite having focused purely on defense, he was still covered in wounds from the attacks he had not been able to dodge.
“Do you mean to interrogate me here?” he asked. “We will need sound-blockers, at the very least. You might as well ask to be embarrassed otherwise.”
In other words, I must have been the cause of their dispute. I was immediately compelled to cover my ears, but this was not something I could simply run away from.
“Luitpold has prepared a room,” I said. “Let us go there. Do you need me to heal you first? I refer to your wounds, of course, not the apparent ‘stupidity’ that Rasantark thought it necessary to mention.”
Kenntrips answered my question by indicating—and then promptly downing—the rejuvenation potion he had on hand.
We moved to the meeting room, where we sat facing each other. Under normal circumstances, a scholar would have recorded our conversation and submitted their work to their professor to be graded, but Cordula understood the gravity of our situation. She placed sound-blockers on the table while shaking her head.
“It is enough for us to know that Elbberg and Brennwaerme have crossed spears,” she said.
Elbberg and Brennwaerme—the God of Mountains and the God of Passion, respectively—had fought over Verfuhremeer the Goddess of Seas. I glared at Cordula for comparing my suitors to them, then handed one of the sound-blockers to Kenntrips.
“I... I shall hear the circumstances of your battle!” I stammered, resisting the urge to sprint out of the room in tears. “P-Posthaste!”
To think I must interrogate a man over a duel held in my name...
“How was your tea party with Lady Rozemyne?” Kenntrips asked, answering one question with another.