30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 50

An upset no one anticipated—a true underdog rebellion.

Rarely did the war game between mages and warriors end so swiftly, and even more rarely did the warriors dominate.

Yet, no one questioned their victory.

‘They’re completely spent.’

‘It’s hard to tell who’s the victor and who’s the vanquished.’

While the mages remained relatively unharmed, the warriors lay collapsed, exhausted and pale.

It was proof of how much they had poured into this battle, a testament to the desperate effort that had determined the outcome.

And so, the audience showered them with applause, honoring their tenacity.

Flash! Flash!

Some even took photos.

There was no doubt that tomorrow’s front-page news would be covered with these shots. It had been that kind of spectacular comeback.

“Was that an idea to unleash their strength explosively?”

“Hmm, more like concentrated force. It might even be a way to amplify potential.”

“A peculiar technique. Interesting. Did that knight teach it? Well, maybe it’s lacking in some areas...”

The more observant nobles noted that while fundamentally different from traditional Aura techniques, the explosive power was impressive.

However, they didn’t appear overly covetous, recognizing the technique’s shortcomings.

Besides the time restriction, it was physically taxing.

Such a method wasn’t exactly ‘noble.’

Intriguing as it was, it wasn’t seen as a replacement for Aura techniques, and above all, it lacked refinement.

Of course,

“—A lot of these guys only see what’s right in front of them. Isn’t that right, Rack?”

Those with an eye for true value, however, could appreciate its merits.

“They think what they have is the best. But they’re not entirely wrong. For those skilled in high-level techniques, this ‘skill’ won’t hold much allure. ...Still.”

“Still?”

“Should someone master this skill, they’d be a formidable opponent. Not easily dismissed, even by other knights.”

“Oh? I expected you to have a narrow view, but you surprise me.”

“M-my lord...”

A knight from a duke’s household had quickly discerned the value of this new technique, and his lord teased him for it.

The Duke, Blake Vivian de Galahad, stroked his chin with interest.

“That young man is a delight to watch. Not only does he have skills, but he’s a talented teacher as well? Fascinating.”

“He’s not worth any serious regard.”

“He’s still sparking your competitive spirit, isn’t he? I thought he might even be in love with someone, given how worked up he gets.”

“!!?”

“Haha!”

Duke Blake laughed heartily.

He was one of the few his student might consider a rival.

Serious and composed to the point of boredom, this knight had started to show a hint of humanity since getting involved with that man.

It was as if the wooden puppet had finally begun to act like a person.

Of course, with his growing humanity, training time increased, and his sparring partners often wore grim expressions, but that was no concern of Duke Blake.

“I’d have claimed him as my own if he weren’t my nephew’s.”

“......”

“But maybe it’s better to keep him as an opponent for your growth. He’ll be a strong motivator.”

“It’s not like that. What’s that commoner even worth?”

“Tsk, tsk, not very honest, are we?”

“......”

Knights have always had their pride and competitive spirit—that’s often their problem.

“...Still, I suppose I prefer high-spirited knights to sly cats.”

But his moment of amusement quickly faded.

His gaze turned icy.

It was a constant irritant.

Perhaps it was the curse of the demon sword, but just being near those lions made his blood boil.

And even if it wasn’t due to the sword’s influence, Galahad and Lionel had already crossed an irreparable line.

They were, effectively, enemies!

Individuals he was determined to eliminate.

“Say the word, and we’ll mobilize the knights.”

“No. Losing you to the northern cats would be a greater loss.”

“My lord! We won’t lose!”

“No, you wouldn’t lose. But there would be sacrifices.”

“Ugh—!”

There was no guarantee they could decisively eliminate them, so they had to bide their time.

Rack de Durron, the Duke’s knight, couldn’t deny his lord’s words.

Their enemies weren’t beneath them.

He was keen enough to recognize that.

“Let’s go. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chat with my nephew.”

“...Will you not meet with the young lady?”

Blake froze for a moment.

“...That child doesn’t seem to want to see me.”

His face darkened.

“Hmm.”

“...Sigh.”

Duke Blake, who always exuded the dignity of a noble, let out a long sigh.

He thought of his unruly foster daughter, whose mood swung as unpredictably as the weather, and sighed again.

“Hmm, Rack, am I that unappealing? She always frowns when she sees me. I thought I looked good enough, but maybe I’m just getting old...”

“......”

Speechless, Rack could only remain silent.

There was much he wanted to say, but he chose not to, shifting his gaze to their surroundings instead.

Many maidens with blossoming beauty were stealing glances at his lord, their cheeks blushing.

‘My lord, saying that in front of others will get you stoned.’

Especially by the other men.

Rack, bound by reverence, dared not utter such insolence and simply bowed his head in silence.

An upset no one anticipated—a true underdog rebellion.

Rarely did the war game between mages and warriors end so swiftly, and even more rarely did the warriors dominate.

Yet, no one questioned their victory.

‘They’re completely spent.’

‘It’s hard to tell who’s the victor and who’s the vanquished.’

While the mages remained relatively unharmed, the warriors lay collapsed, exhausted and pale.

It was proof of how much they had poured into this battle, a testament to the desperate effort that had determined the outcome.

And so, the audience showered them with applause, honoring their tenacity.

Flash! Flash!

Some even took photos.

There was no doubt that tomorrow’s front-page news would be covered with these shots. It had been that kind of spectacular comeback.

“Was that an idea to unleash their strength explosively?”

“Hmm, more like concentrated force. It might even be a way to amplify potential.”

“A peculiar technique. Interesting. Did that knight teach it? Well, maybe it’s lacking in some areas...”

The more observant nobles noted that while fundamentally different from traditional Aura techniques, the explosive power was impressive.

However, they didn’t appear overly covetous, recognizing the technique’s shortcomings.

Besides the time restriction, it was physically taxing.

Such a method wasn’t exactly ‘noble.’

Intriguing as it was, it wasn’t seen as a replacement for Aura techniques, and above all, it lacked refinement.

Of course,

“—A lot of these guys only see what’s right in front of them. Isn’t that right, Rack?”

Those with an eye for true value, however, could appreciate its merits.

“They think what they have is the best. But they’re not entirely wrong. For those skilled in high-level techniques, this ‘skill’ won’t hold much allure. ...Still.”

“Still?”

“Should someone master this skill, they’d be a formidable opponent. Not easily dismissed, even by other knights.”

“Oh? I expected you to have a narrow view, but you surprise me.”

“M-my lord...”

A knight from a duke’s household had quickly discerned the value of this new technique, and his lord teased him for it.

The Duke, Blake Vivian de Galahad, stroked his chin with interest.

“That young man is a delight to watch. Not only does he have skills, but he’s a talented teacher as well? Fascinating.”

“He’s not worth any serious regard.”

“He’s still sparking your competitive spirit, isn’t he? I thought he might even be in love with someone, given how worked up he gets.”

“!!?”

“Haha!”

Duke Blake laughed heartily.

He was one of the few his student might consider a rival.

Serious and composed to the point of boredom, this knight had started to show a hint of humanity since getting involved with that man.

It was as if the wooden puppet had finally begun to act like a person.

Of course, with his growing humanity, training time increased, and his sparring partners often wore grim expressions, but that was no concern of Duke Blake.

“I’d have claimed him as my own if he weren’t my nephew’s.”

“......”

“But maybe it’s better to keep him as an opponent for your growth. He’ll be a strong motivator.”

“It’s not like that. What’s that commoner even worth?”

“Tsk, tsk, not very honest, are we?”

“......”

Knights have always had their pride and competitive spirit—that’s often their problem.

“...Still, I suppose I prefer high-spirited knights to sly cats.”

But his moment of amusement quickly faded.

His gaze turned icy.

It was a constant irritant.