Episode 8: The Second Duel
Long before Sieg Fried was born, the Sigurd family branched off from the main Fried lineage. Unlike the Frieds, the Sigurds did not inherit the direct bloodline of the great hero.
Though the Sigurd family had achieved remarkable feats as knights comparable to the Frieds, the world still saw them as nothing more than “that branch family under the Frieds.”
The Fried bloodline possessed monstrous magical power across generations, surpassing the Sigurds in raw strength and swordsmanship.
And among the Frieds, Alphonse Fried stood out as exceptionally gifted—his mana reserves, magical talent, physical power, and swordplay were so overwhelming that even Lloyd, who had only glimpsed his training once, could feel the vast gap between them.
Yet, despite recognizing the difference in ability, Lloyd never once believed himself inferior to Alphonse.
Because Lloyd possessed something extraordinary even among his clan—a peerless talent for acceleration magic.
“No matter how vast their mana, how monstrous their strength, how refined their swordsmanship, or how many offensive spells they wield—if their attacks never land, none of it means a thing.” That was Lloyd’s unwavering conviction.
Alphonse was undoubtedly strong—but Lloyd was overwhelmingly faster.
In the three sparring matches they had fought in the past, Lloyd had never lost.
Those bouts were fought under rules where the first to land a decisive strike with wooden swords would win—different from the current inter-academy tournament.
But even in this tournament’s format, Lloyd was certain that as long as he dodged every one of his opponent’s attacks while landing his own relentlessly, defeat was impossible.
Whenever he introduced himself as “Lloyd Sigurd,” people would inevitably respond, “Ah… that branch family under the Frieds.”
No matter what he achieved, the world’s gaze always fell on the Frieds—never the Sigurds. Ever since childhood, that fact had festered in Lloyd’s heart as an unquenchable frustration.
Even recently, when the Black Dragon of Destruction appeared at Crawford Magic Academy, Alphonse was the one who repelled it—and the knight academy students couldn’t stop praising him. “As expected of Sieg Fried’s descendant! He’s incredible!”
“That bastard… He’s never once beaten me!!”
A dark, seething hatred burned within Lloyd.
—If we ever face each other in this tournament, I will crush him.
And now…
[The Second Duel]
[Knight Academy, Second Year, Class A – Lloyd Sigurd]
[Magic Academy, Second Year, Class A – Alphonse Fried]
The moment had come.
After the conclusion of the first duel, Alphonse Fried made his way to the preparation room adjacent to the contestants’ waiting area.
Selecting his equipment from the weapons and armor provided, he tested their fit and movement with a few practice swings.
After trying on several pieces, he finalized his gear for the match.
Just as he was slipping on grip-enhancing gloves and checking the balance of his longsword, two knocks echoed from the door.
“Fried, the second duel is about to begin. Once you’re ready, head to the entrance gate.”
The voice belonged to the Magic Academy’s supervising instructor for the tournament.
“Understood.”
“Do your best. We’re counting on you.”
After hearing Alphonse’s response, the instructor left without another word.
“…Right.”
Though he knew his whisper wouldn’t reach the instructor, Alphonse let the word slip anyway.
But his tone lacked the confidence it should have carried.
To Alphonse, Lloyd was a fated rival.
Before enrolling in the Magic Academy, Alphonse had considered attending the Knight Academy instead.
His skill in both magic and swordsmanship was evenly matched—but he ultimately chose the Magic Academy because he wanted to hone a combat style that could avoid unnecessary harm.
Yet, there was another, deeper reason he avoided the Knight Academy—the bitter memories of his past sparring matches against Lloyd.
Under the rules of “first decisive strike wins,” Alphonse had lost every single time to Lloyd, who had already mastered acceleration magic back then.
No matter how much he refined his swordsmanship, surpassing Lloyd in pure swordplay was impossible. That was why Alphonse had chosen a different path—to overcome Lloyd in his own way.
Thus, in Alphonse’s mind, Lloyd remained an unbeatable foe.
And what haunted him most was the blinding speed Lloyd had displayed during his recent visit to the Magic Academy.
“He’s grown far beyond what I remember…”
Of course, Alphonse had trained relentlessly for this tournament.
But even so, he still wasn’t sure if he could keep up with Lloyd’s speed.
“No… I can’t afford to hesitate! Yufia won us a huge victory—now it’s my turn to follow through!!”
Pushing aside his doubts, Alphonse took a deep breath and rose to his feet.
“Haaah…… ……Hmph. …Alright!”
With renewed determination, he gripped his longsword and stepped out of the preparation room—
Only to be stopped by a familiar voice.
“Alphonse.”
“Ah, Yufia?”
On his way to the gate, he found Yufia, who had just won the first duel, waiting for him.
“Good work out there earlier. You were amazing—honestly, it was kind of shocking, haha.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s up?”
“A message… from Shion.”
“…!! From Shion?”
Yufia nodded.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.GITHUB.IO
“—[Do your best. Win no matter what. I’m rooting for you.] …That’s what he said.”
“…!!”
—Thump!! A pulse so strong it shook his entire body surged through Alphonse’s veins.
“(…Strange.)”
Just moments ago, he had been desperately trying to stifle his anxiety, forcing himself to focus.
“(Earlier, all I could think about was the past… whether I could match Lloyd’s speed… But now…)”
Placing a hand over his chest, he felt his heartbeat—steady and strong.
“(…Now, I don’t feel like losing at all.)”
A surge of boundless confidence flooded his heart.
“…Got it! Thanks, Yufia!”
With a fiery glint in his eyes, Alphonse strode toward the arena.
The audience, still reeling from the shocking conclusion of the first duel, had been silent—
but by the time the second duel began, the arena was roaring with excitement once more.
Alphonse Fried was now a household name in both academies—
one of the “S-Rank Magic Students,” standing alongside Yufia Queensroad, who had just displayed overwhelming power. He was one of the most anticipated fighters in the tournament.
And his opponent, Lloyd Sigurd, only amplified the crowd’s anticipation.
The Sigurd family was renowned across the kingdom as a lineage of knights—though they were also widely known as the Frieds’ branch family.
This clash between two prestigious houses—two rivals from the same bloodline—was a dramatic spectacle that electrified the audience.
But the crowd’s excitement wasn’t just about skill or curiosity over the outcome.
To the Magic Academy students, Alphonse Fried was a symbol of pride—their academy’s hero.
Cheering for him wasn’t just support—it was a given.
Some of his most fervent fans even waved giant flags embroidered with his name, screaming, “DON’T YOU DARE LOSE, ALPHONSE!! COME ON, YOU GUYS—CHEER HARDER FOR HIM!!”
Incidentally, the one leading this frenzy was Dezel Evans—a male student from Alphonse’s class.
But the passionate cheers weren’t one-sided.
Lloyd, too, was met with thunderous support from the Knight Academy students.
His classmates knew how often he boasted, “I’m stronger than any Fried,”—and his abilities backed up those claims.
Just like Tyson Estrada’s defensive prowess, Lloyd’s speed had been rated “S” by examiners—”This guy’s speed is in a league of its own.”
If anyone could stand toe-to-toe with an S-Rank like Alphonse, it was Lloyd.
And now, with Lloyd’s long-awaited chance to “bring down the Frieds,” the Knight Academy students rallied behind him with deafening cheers, refusing to be outdone.
Thus, the energy in the stands, momentarily dampened after the first duel, soared to its peak once more…
Lloyd Sigurd stood clad in the lightest possible armor, forgoing shoulder guards and a helmet. In his hand was an 80-centimeter double-edged longsword.
Across from him, Alphonse Fried wore reinforced fiber combat attire with iron gauntlets and greaves, gripping a longsword of his own.
Thirty meters apart, they faced each other in the arena as the announcer’s voice rang out.
“—Now then, the second match of the Inter-Academy Tournament: the Second Duel shall begin!”
At the announcement, Lloyd slid his right foot back, lowering his stance with his blade angled diagonally behind him. Alphonse, in contrast, tucked his chin slightly, stepping forward with his left foot as he settled into a mid-guard stance.
A breath passed between them— And then—
“Begin… —NOW!!”
The duel commenced.
—Lloyd moved first.
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