I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

TL/Editor: Rungir

Schedule: none

Illustrations: none

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“Lady Rohanna, can you predict who will win?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Rohanna shook her head in response to the knight's question, asked softly enough for only her to hear.

In her view, Prince Zion and Lucas Ascalon stood at the center of the training ground.

Rohanna actually thought Lucas had the upper hand.

‘Although there have been rumors spreading throughout the capital about Prince Zion’s martial prowess lately…’

In reality, not many had seen Prince Zion in combat.

Therefore, the people of the family, including her, honestly harbored doubts about him.

‘In contrast, Lucas’s strength has been proven for a long time.’

Of course, this proof was internal to their family's hierarchy and might be unfamiliar to outsiders.

But Rohanna, being a member of the family, knew almost everything about Lucas’s strength.

And the Lucas she knew was far more formidable than what was publicly known.

A genius among geniuses, to put it mildly.

‘If Prince Zion truly possesses the rumored martial strength and can fully harness it, he might win.’

The power of the Agnes bloodline reigned supreme over all forces in the world.

However, in a sparring match without any use of powers, it was a different story.

Physical strength, senses, and the pure swordsmanship derived from them.

Considering these, Rohanna anticipated that Lucas might be slightly superior.

Probably, others might share her thoughts.

Then,

“Thank you for accepting my impudent request, Your Highness Zion.”

Lucas, looking towards Zion in the center of the training ground, bowed respectfully.

However, unlike his demeanor, his eyes already shone with anticipation and eagerness for the duel.

“Thanks aren't needed. Shall we start right away?”

Zion, with a languid gaze at Lucas, let the iron sword he temporarily held drop to the ground as he responded.

“Understood. Then I shall make the first move…… Now!”

Whoosh!

As soon as he finished speaking, Lucas, slightly bending his knees, lunged towards Zion at an incredible speed.

An unbelievable speed for sheer physical ability, devoid of any mana use.

Lucas had intended to give his best from the start against Prince Zion.

He felt Prince Zion was sufficiently qualified for that.

Swoosh!

Immediately after, Lucas’s sword, having swiftly reached in front of Zion, slashed down vertically.

A pure downward strike without a hint of technique.

At that moment, as Lucas’s sword neared, Zion, who had been calmly watching with still eyes, finally moved.

His figure shifted subtly, an almost imperceptible adjustment, yet it was enough to change the trajectory of the incoming attack.

Lucas's blade, swift and sharp, cut through the air, missing Zion by mere inches. The precision in Zion's movement was not just a testament to his physical agility but also his acute awareness of his surroundings and his opponent's intentions.

The crowd, which had been holding its breath in anticipation, now erupted in a mixture of awe and excitement. The duel, which many had thought would be one-sided in favor of Lucas, now seemed far more uncertain.

Zion, with an unreadable expression, readied himself for the next move. His stance was relaxed yet poised, like a coiled spring waiting to unleash. Lucas, recognizing the challenge before him, grinned slightly. The real match had just begun.

The air around the training ground became charged with intensity as the two opponents circled each other, looking for an opening. Each movement was a calculated dance, a test of skill and strategy. The onlookers watched in silence, captivated by the display of martial prowess.

In that moment, it became clear that this was not just a simple duel between two nobles. It was a clash between two extraordinary warriors, each showcasing the culmination of years of training and dedication. The outcome of this match would not only determine the victor but also set a new standard in the art of swordplay within the empire.

Not a full step, but merely half a step.

With precise timing and a peculiar angle, that half-step movement caused Lucas's sword strike to narrowly miss, grazing only a few strands of Zion's hair.

Was that half-step both an evasion and the starting point of an attack?

Sshk!

The sword Zion had let droop whipped up diagonally, aiming for Lucas's throat.

Lucas, with a glint in his eye, took a step back and tilted his head, narrowly evading Zion's strike.

Spat!

Zion's sword, slightly brushing past Lucas's nose, continued its trajectory.

Lucas, quickly regaining his stance, thrust his sword into the opening created by Zion's previous swing.

His sword, moving faster than it was being swung, headed straight for Zion's neck.

It was too late to pull back and block, but Zion didn't retreat. Instead, he leaned further in.

This brought Zion's neck and Lucas's sword even closer at an alarmingly fast pace.

Just as Lucas's sword was about to pierce Zion's neck, Swoosh!

Zion's body, in a disheveled stance, suddenly dipped down.

This caused Lucas's sword to futilely pierce the air, and Zion momentarily vanished from his sight.

“……!”

Startled by this unexpected maneuver, Lucas's eyes widened in surprise, and then Sshk!

Remaining in his tilted position, Zion unleashed a burst of silver sword light.

Ordinarily, a poorly postured swing would lack force.

However, Zion compensated with the momentum of his body's rotation and the recoil of his tilt.

“Huh!”

Lucas, in a rush, pulled back his sword to defend.

Clang!

Their swords collided, creating a loud noise.

Not stopping there, Zion, using the recoil, immediately launched a series of rapid strikes.

Lucas, reacting with twists of his upper body, also began to unleash formidable sword strikes.

Along with this, the swordsmanship began to fully unfold in his hands.

Clink-Clink-Clink!

A series of friction sparks and the sound of clashing steel filled the training ground, as Lucas's sword, with each swing, split into multiple trajectories aiming for Zion's important points.

Just by watching, Zion was able to discern the path of these trajectories, his sword tip quivering strangely.

Crash!

This deflected and blocked all of Lucas's trajectories.

“Huff!”

But Lucas wasn't done yet. Instead of a shout, he inhaled sharply and smoothly swung his sword.

His sword, rippling like waves, spread out in all directions.

It wasn't just a strike aiming for superiority but an attack that sought to dominate the entire space.

This was a level of swordsmanship so profound that even the observing knights could hardly grasp it, yet Zion's eyes remained utterly calm.

Swoosh-

Neither too fast nor too slow.

Zion's sword advanced towards Lucas's strikes.

All movements in the world begin with breath.

Hence, if one could disrupt that breath, Kwajijijik!

Any movement could be thrown off.

“!!!!!!!”

Zion’s sword, precisely penetrating the gaps in Lucas’s breathing, shattered Lucas’s strikes and the space he dominated, seizing the initiative in an instant.

Sugagagak!

Zion, with a colder gaze, increased the intensity of his attacks, refusing to relinquish control.

“…….”

Outside the training ground, Rohanna and the others from the family watched the scene in a daze.

“Just how……?”

They couldn't tear their eyes away.

Even Rohanna, within the top 30 of her family’s hierarchy, could hardly grasp the high level of the clash.

Moreover, this was a pure exchange of sword skills, with no power being used.

Cling! Cling! Clang!

Lucas's swordsmanship strictly followed the orthodox methods.

He had explored and maximized the hidden secrets within the family’s sword techniques.

That alone was astonishing, but what captivated Rohanna was not Lucas, but Prince Zion.

“How can he… do that?”

There must be a certain form in swordsmanship.

After all, the concept of swordsmanship inherently includes form.

But no form could be discerned in Prince Zion’s swordplay.

Kwagagagak!

He simply produced optimal movements for each situation, guided by his senses.

‘To do that, one must have countless battle experiences.’

How could Prince Zion exhibit movements that seemed feasible only for a veteran of hundreds of battles?

That was still acceptable, but the problem was that Lucas was gradually being overwhelmed by Zion’s swordplay.

‘Even without mana, it’s still the essence of Ascalon’s sword techniques…’

Especially when wielded by Lucas.

Yet, he was being pushed back by Prince Zion's formless swordplay, which was incomprehensible.

Meanwhile, the tide of battle increasingly turned.

Finally, Clang!

With the last clash, Zion's sword stopped right before Lucas's neck.

“…….”

A silence enveloped the training ground, beyond anyone's expectation.

In the silence, everyone looking at Zion had eyes filled with disbelief at the sight before them.

‘He really defeated Lucas…’

Then,

“I have lost, Your Highness. It seems my sword is still lacking compared to yours. Thank you for the lesson!”

Breaking the silence, Lucas spoke.

Lifting his arms as if accepting defeat, his face showed no frustration or emptiness from the loss.

Only the lingering thrill from the recent battle and a keen desire to review and learn from the sparring remained.

Zion's reaction to Lucas's fervor for battle was exactly as described in the chronicles - he was truly passionate about combat.

Smiling faintly at this, Zion addressed Lucas.

“Let’s spar like this more often in the future.”

“Pardon?”

Lucas’s eyes reflected his confusion at these words.

Being usually confined within his family's domain, he seldom had the chance to meet Prince Zion.

Yet, Zion was speaking as if they would meet frequently in the future.

“What do you mean by that……?”

Lucas quickly asked, his voice filled with curiosity, but by the time he looked for an answer, Zion was already leaving the training ground.

‘This is quite good.’

Walking along the path leading from the training ground, Zion clenched and unclenched his fist, reflecting on the recent duel.

The spar was not only to gauge the skills of Lucas, who would become his subordinate, but also to test his own body.

He thought a duel purely based on physical strength would give him a more accurate assessment.

And he was very satisfied with the outcome.

‘There was no hindrance during the duel.’

The performance of his body, previously tired by even slight movements, was now vastly different.

It had become more flexible and resilient.

‘I thought having a normal human body would be more than enough.’

With this level of ability, he felt almost as if he had undergone a complete transformation, just like the mythical stories.

After a bit of walking we arrived at the building.

“No one knows what lies inside, nor the reason why it's forbidden to enter.”

“A forbidden area…”

The forbidden area of the family.

There was a mention of it in the chronicles.

A group of heroes had once entered it for some reason during their visit to the family.

Therefore, Zion knew what was inside.

‘Inside there is certainly…’

Then,

-At last, you have arrived, hero.

A voice echoed in Zion’s mind.

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