The ballroom's golden grandeur pulsed with new tension, the air thick with the aftertaste of Selvaria and Aurianne's verbal duel. Nobles clustered in shifting constellations of silk and sigil, their whispers sharp as glass. Anwir, ever the shadow at Selvaria's side, kept his posture perfect but let his mind wander-just for a heartbeat-over the absurdity of his situation.
______『 Status 』______
➣Name: Anwir
➣Mana Pool: 500/500
➣Traits:
•Mana Sense
•Steelblood Butler
•Veil Sight
•Oathbound Memory
➣Talents:
•Etiquette Blade
•Position Swap
___________________________
He was a developer, not a duelist. Yet here he stood, a blade in a butler's glove, forced by fate to save the one girl doomed to die in every route. No pressure.
And somehow, I was still bickering with Selene.
Selene sidled up, still riding the high of their banter. "You know, if you keep making me laugh, I might actually start to like you," she whispered, eyes glinting. "And then where would my reputation be?"
Anwir managed a dry smile. "Ruined, I hope. Misery loves my company after all."
Before Selene could retort, a new ripple ran through the crowd — a disturbance with the weight of intent.
Lord Marius of House Viridiel, young and hungry for recognition, stepped forward. His voice rang out, slicing through the polite murmur.
"Lady Selvaria Rosenthal," he declared, bowing with a flourish that was all affectation and no substance, "the Empire's patience with your family's peculiarities grows thin. If you wish to stand among us, prove your worth. I challenge you to a duel for the honor of our Holy Families!"
The nobles gasped, drawn like moths to the promise of blood. Dueling was forbidden by law, but tradition-and pride-always found loopholes within the system.
'As one can challenge someone for dues as long as they give a valid reason, which in nobles' language is just using reputation as an excuse to boost their own family's ego.'
Selvaria's gaze was glacial, unreadable. She looked to Anwir, a silent command in her eyes. He stepped forward, every inch the perfect attendant.
'As if the atmosphere forced me to step forward to defend her...'
'Also, the fact that my life is linked with her death forces me to save her reputation as if her reputation falls her brothers might try to kill her as the family head position is very enticing.'
"As Lady Selvaria's sworn butler, I accept the challenge in her stead. Name your terms, Lord Marius."
'And as I feared, I am now against someone whom I can't kill due to my standing as a butler against a noble.'
"Maybe she won't mind if I kill some 3rd rate noble.'
Marius's sneer dripped with mockery. "First blood, with blades. Or would you prefer to yield now and spare your mistress any further humiliation?"
Anwir inclined his head, his voice calm and cutting. "First blood, then. Pray your sword is as keen as your wit."
The crowd parted, forming a ring. Selene caught Anwir's eye, mouthing, "Don't die." He gave her a half-smirk, but his heart hammered in his chest.
He drew his blade, feeling the comforting weight in his hand. Mana Manipulation steadied his nerves, Steelblood Butler dulled the edge of fear. Veil Sight flickered-a shimmer of poison magic on Marius's blade. Typical.
The duel began.
Marius lunged, his sword a flash of silver. Anwir parried, Etiquette Blade guiding his movements into a dance of grace and precision. The crowd murmured, impressed by the beauty of it.
Marius pressed harder, frustration mounting. Negative emotion spiked-Veil Sight sharpened Anwir's reflexes. He sidestepped, letting Marius overextend.
Then, Marius feinted dirty trick, blade twisting toward Anwir's shoulder.
He's aiming for a quick win. Not this time.
Anwir's mind flickered to his status window.
──────『 Talent: Position Swap 』──────
Target: Silver serving tray, refreshment table.
Mana Cost: Minimal.
───────────────────────────────
He triggered the talent.
In a blink, Anwir vanished from Marius's reach, reappearing beside the refreshment table. The serving tray clattered to the marble where he'd been, Marius's sword slicing empty air.
Gasps erupted. Even the most jaded nobles leaned forward, eyes wide.
Before Marius could recover, Anwir was behind him. With flawless etiquette, he stabbed Marius's arm with the pointy side of his blade-a gentle, unmistakable touch.
"The first blood would've been yours," Anwir murmured, "if I hadn't been thirsty."
He bowed, the very picture of courtly grace.
Selene whooped from the sidelines. Selvaria's lips twitched in the faintest of smiles-approval, perhaps, or amusement.
The crowd buzzed, nobles trading astonished glances like currency.
Marius, red-faced and humiliated, could only stare.
The duel was over.
Anwir returned to Selvaria's side, heart pounding.
Hardcore Difficulty skills, huh? At this rate, dessert's starting to feel like an endgame achievement.
Maybe, just maybe, I can change her fate this time.
Selvaria's voice was low, meant only for him. "Well done, Anwir."
He inclined his head, fighting a smile. "It's my honor, my lady."
The ballroom's tension eased, but the undercurrent of danger remained. Tonight, Anwir had defended Selvaria's honor-but in this world of blades and shadows, he knew the real battles were just beginning.
As the applause faded and the nobles' whispers shifted to new scandals, Anwir followed Selvaria from the dueling ring, posture flawless but insides still churning. He kept his face unreadable, but his thoughts were a mess of relief and queasiness.
Gods above, if I ever have to use Position Swap again in front of a crowd, just let me die quietly behind a potted plant. I nearly lost my lunch-and my dignity-when I popped out next to that serving tray. Twice in a row and I'd have painted the marble with breakfast. Who designed this talent, anyway? Oh right. Me. Sadist.
He resisted the urge to rub his stomach. Instead, he glanced at Lord Marius, who was still clutching his arm and glaring like he'd been robbed. Which, in a way, he had. Anwir almost pitied him.
'At least the noble was just a weak-ass, third-rate extra. If this had been a main route boss, I'd be a stain on the floor, and Selvaria's fate would be sealed-again. Lucky me. Lucky her. For once, the RNG gods smiled.'
He straightened his cuffs, letting the mask of the perfect butler slip back into place.
'Note to self: Next time, check if the opponent's actually worth the mana cost. And maybe train with my Talent so that it doesn't make me want to vomit in front of half the Empire.'
Selene caught his eye from across the room, mouthing, "Show-off." He gave her a subtle, suffering look in return, mouthing back, "Try it next time."
He fell back into step behind Selvaria, the ballroom's noise swelling around them. The nobles had already moved on to the next spectacle, but Anwir's mind lingered on the duel, the magic, and the narrow escape from both humiliation and disaster.
Hardcore Difficulty, huh? At this rate, I'll be lucky if I survive to dessert. But maybe, just maybe, I can keep her alive this time.
He kept walking, back straight, every inch the loyal attendant-while inside, he was just a guy praying the next challenge would involve less nausea and fewer death flags.