Chapter 251: Sacrifice

When comparing Faust and Baumann, there was no question that Baumann was the stronger of the two at this moment.

To begin with, Faust’s skill in swordsmanship was not particularly advanced.

Queen Katarina of Virendorf had reached the same conclusion.

The reason was simple—his background was unimpressive.

Faust was born and raised in the small Polydoro territory, home to a mere 300 serfs, and his mother was no more than a minor rural lord.

Certainly, she was a remarkable figure for having recognized Faust’s potential and nurturing him.

But that was all.

His upbringing offered no further validation.

Faust’s mother, Marianne, likely imparted every skill and technique she could muster.

She had undoubtedly been a capable knight, hardened by years of military service.

Yet, even with her strength, she lacked the depth and refinement of knights trained in the royal capital’s elite facilities.

Marianne had no mentors, no skilled relatives, and no structured system to teach advanced martial techniques.

In short, the Polydoro household was not equipped to provide Faust with a proper martial education.

As a result, Faust lacked the knowledge of formal combat techniques.

In terms of pure skill, he was arguably inferior even to Baumann, who had risen from the ranks of serfs.

Baumann had been trained directly by Lady Claudia von Reckenber herself—the strongest knight of Virendorf, with unparalleled expertise in martial arts and instruction.

No matter how much Faust had learned from his beloved mother over a decade, it could never compare to even one year of Reckenber’s mentorship for Baumann.

Such was the harsh reality.

This was why Baumann, whose raw strength even surpassed Reckenber’s, was undoubtedly stronger than Faust—for now.

“Queen Katarina.”

A soft, almost whispered voice.

“Valiere?”

A short figure, barely 140 cm tall.

Yet she bore an undeniable charisma that captivated even the most disillusioned.

This was a girl entirely different from the one who had visited Virendorf as an envoy for peace negotiations.

Her presence caught Katarina’s attention.

“Um… you said that Baumann is stronger than Faust, didn’t you?”

“That’s correct. At this moment, Faust is weaker than Baumann.”

Baumann’s name was etched in Reckenber’s journals.

The records predicted that Baumann could become the strongest knight in the Gusten Empire.

Reckenber had written that, with just a bit more effort, Baumann could become a flawless knight.

Several years had passed since those words were penned.

How much effort had Baumann put in to overcome her flaws since then?

Given how she had languished after Reckenber’s death, her skills might have rusted somewhat.

“So, does that mean Faust will lose to Baumann?”

Valiere’s words carried a tone of concern.

But they were mistaken.

“Who said anything of the sort?”

Katarina tilted her head, bemused by the misunderstanding.

“Isn’t it natural for the stronger one to win? If we’re talking about strength, the victor should be obvious—”

“I believe there is no creature in this world capable of defeating Faust von Polydoro in a fair duel.”

If Faust were ever to lose, it would only be in the face of overwhelming odds:

Being surrounded by multiple superhuman foes willing to sacrifice their lives.

Or perhaps battling a mythical creature—a dragon, for instance.

Even then, such losses would more likely be mutual destruction rather than simple defeat.

“There’s no need for concern.”

Katarina, her tone languid, seemed ready to end the conversation.

There was no need for further explanation—simply watching would suffice.

Anastasia or Astarte would have understood without additional words.

Leaving the explanation to them would have been enough.

But, well…

“Ah, those two aren’t here, are they?”

“Um, where are my sister and my cousin?”

“They’re taking care of business—punishing the Imperial Commercial Guild in the capital for siccing the Landsknechts on you.”

It was a punishment.

The emperor’s intentions played a significant role in this matter.

The Imperial Commercial Guild had long been on the emperor’s bad side.

Even if Anastasia and Astarte sought vengeance for the attack on their beloved Valiere, few would raise a hand or voice in opposition.

“Um, won’t it be a problem if they kill the people I’m supposed to negotiate with?”

“It’ll be fine. Two or three will survive—you can negotiate with them.”

Surely, they wouldn’t kill everyone from top to bottom.

The more reasonable ones would likely be spared.

Two or three survivors would probably suffice.

“…It can’t be helped.”

Katarina sighed and took a sip of her wine.

This girl, Valiere, despite being Faust’s fiancée, seemed to have little understanding of her future husband.

Perhaps it was time to explain.

“Valiere, let me ask you. Between Reckenber and Faust, who do you think was stronger?”

“Well, since Faust won the duel… surely it’s Faust?”

“That’s correct. However, until the very moment they stood on the brink of their duel, Reckenber was undoubtedly the stronger of the two.”

Reckenber was stronger.

In fact, even up to the instant she was beheaded in single combat, Reckenber surpassed Faust.

Yet, she lost.

“Is this some kind of riddle?”

“No, not at all. I’m merely stating the facts.”

Valiere lacked the knack for understanding such matters.

If not explained from the very beginning, she would never grasp it.

“Suppose—just suppose—that Reckenber had resolved from the very start to kill Faust with all her might. I believe she would have won.”

Reckenber made a critical mistake during her duel with Faust.

Not out of arrogance or playfulness, but perhaps she sought to defeat Faust without killing him, intending to take him prisoner instead.

This misstep, however, proved fatal when faced with the peculiar nature of Faust as a knight.

“The gap in skill between Reckenber and Faust should have been that wide.”

“But Faust still won.”

“Indeed.”

That was true.

Faust had won.

But why?

“One reason, as the epics would say, is that Faust seems to possess an almost divine, inexhaustible stamina.”

Yet that wasn’t the sole factor.

Reckenber’s defeat wasn’t just due to a disparity in endurance.

There was a decisive reason.

“Faust can steal his opponent’s techniques during battle.”

“Steal… techniques?”

“Yes. Any technique used against him becomes his own after a single encounter.”

It wasn’t like traditional observational learning, where repeated practice was necessary.

Faust didn’t just memorize the technique after seeing it once.

He analyzed how it worked, how to counter or evade it, and mastered it entirely.

If one displayed a move against him even once, it was the last time they could rely on that move.

“During his duel with Reckenber, she reportedly used a poleaxe, the Lucerne Hammer. You could ask Faust now—he likely still remembers her techniques with the poleaxe.”

“So, when you say Faust is weak…”

“It’s likely because, in terms of swordsmanship, he has rarely encountered opponents worth learning from.”

Faust’s swordsmanship was unremarkable.

He would often overwhelm opponents with sheer strength and size before any real challenge could arise.

He had neither the inclination nor the need to hold back and analyze his opponent’s techniques.

On the battlefield, he always fought with his full might.

As a result, his development as a swordsman remained stunted.

“But this time is different.”

Baumann surpassed Faust in both strength and skill.

Through this battle, Faust would likely absorb and understand everything:

All of Reckenber’s swordsmanship.

For the first time, he would face a true struggle in combat, and through that trial, his understanding of swordsmanship would reach completion.

“So… Your Majesty, you’re using Baumann…”

“Yes. As a sacrifice.”

Baumann was a sacrifice.

Her role was to help Faust von Polydoro, this extraordinary being, become a complete swordsman.

By the end of this duel, Faust would have mastered all of Reckenber’s techniques.

No cost was too great for this purpose.

“Do you not feel sympathy for Baumann?”

“Of course I do. I don’t want her to die.”

This was Katarina’s genuine feeling.

She didn’t want Baumann to perish.

To Katarina, Baumann was the last seed left by Reckenber, and she wished to honor that legacy.

Even Valiere’s lament about the Landsknechts dying pointlessly had merit.

And yet.

“But look, Valiere. Look at the serene faces of those fallen warriors.”

Valiere turned her gaze to the corpses.

The faces of the dead on the stage bore expressions of peace.

As if they had finally reached their place of rest—Valhalla.

“If Baumann survives this duel, I intend to grant her knighthood in Virendorf. If she desires more, I’ll provide her with land and position. That was Reckenber’s intention as well.”

It had always been the plan.

According to Reckenber’s diary, she had intended to lead the Landsknechts east of Virendorf and establish a new kingdom.

Baumann was to become one of her knights.

Katarina had every intention of honoring that promise.

But still.

“And yet, Valiere. Allow me a moment of weakness—I no longer know what is right.”

Will survival truly bring Baumann happiness?

Perhaps it would be better for her to perish alongside the veteran Landsknechts, consumed by this desperate struggle, and find her way to Valhalla—to Reckenber.

Katarina didn’t know.

Uncertain and lost, she allowed this duel to proceed solely to nurture Faust into the empire’s strongest knight.

“Now, Valiere. The duel has begun. Remain silent and watch.”

Silently, Katarina prayed.

May this duel bring a resolution that would grant Baumann happiness.

She turned her gaze to the stage, where Faust was—just as expected.

No, even more so than anticipated—struggling.

He was clearly overwhelmed by Baumann’s fearless swordplay, a deadly blend of reckless courage and the precision of Virendorf’s knightly training.

The clash of their massive weapons reverberated through the arena as the duel raged on.