"…eh?"
Both Shawn Franklin and I stared blankly at Lionel Stuart, who favored us with his usual indulgent smile.
"Like I said, there is no need to arrange an alternative date. Let's have the both of you duel each other right here, right now."
"…here?" I glanced around the massive room. True enough, it was vast enough to serve as a makeshift arena. Now that I was examining it closely, I saw that there indeed was a huge stage in the middle, where a few people were dancing. In addition, there were rows of seats along the walls, just in front of the banquet tables. Already there were quite a few people seated on the cushioned chairs, munching away at their food.
Yeah, I could see us fighting in the middle of this enormous room, watched by over a hundred or so spectators.
"I apologize for arbitrarily making the decision on my own, but I hope you two won't mind fighting right away?"
Even though his tone sounded gentle and polite, there was an undercurrent of firmness lying beneath it that made it clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
Not that Franklin ever planned on objecting. He grinned wolfishly, his handsome features glowing in anticipation.
"Of course. Like Lord Stuart, I also am impatient to answer the question of which among the two of us is stronger."
"You are," I replied automatically. "I forfeit this match…"
Stuart scowled at me, and then he blinked, as if suddenly realizing something.
"Indeed…there is no benefit for you to participate in such a duel, other than simple pride and bragging rights. And for someone as practical as you, such intangible benefits aren't worth getting injured over. Is that correct?"
"Uh…I guess…?"
Honestly, I found the whole thing stupid and troublesome, and was too lazy to fight when there was absolutely no need to. But obviously I couldn't say that to Stuart's face.
"Hmm…how about this?" Stuart smiled magnanimously. "I'll grant the winner a request. Any request that is within my power to fulfil. It can be a position of power in the Stuart Corporation, monetary rewards, a powerful Divine Device, a treasure, Spirit Medicine…anything. Just name it, and I will do my best to grant it."
"That is an excellent idea!" Franklin's eyes were glowing at the prospect. Evidently, a guy as ambitious as him already had something in mind for the request. "If you do not mind doing so, Lord Stuart."
"Of course not. I don't mind paying any price to watch a duel between two highly rated mages." Stuart leaned back with a grin. He glanced at me. "I trust you will have no problems with this arrangement, Richard?"
Now that he had gone this far, refusing his proposal would only make me look petty and selfish. Yeah, I wasn't obligated to take part in this stupid duel, but let's face it. Having any one request granted was extremely tempting. I hadn't actually considered what I wanted, but I knew how beneficial it would be to have Stuart owe me a favor.
So I nodded.
"I apologize for causing you to make such a promise. I will do my best in the duel."
"Excellent!" Stuart clapped his hands enthusiastically. "I have asked a servant to bring up a couple of swords for you. She'll be up here in a moment…ah, there she is."
The massive double doors to the vast reception room swung open. A young lady in a maid uniform strode inside, her head humbly lowered as she proceeded toward the center of the party room. She was bearing a large metallic tray, upon which lay a couple of swords. Delicately crossing the room, she bowed before Stuart before gracefully presenting the tray of swords to us.
"Thank you very much, Claire." Stuart favored her with a paternal smile, and then turned to me and Franklin. "Please go ahead and choose your weapon, the both of you."
Even though he said that, there really wasn't much of a selection to choose from. The tray only contained two identical swords. One for Franklin, and the other for me.
I didn't point that out, of course. Instead, I graciously allowed Franklin to choose his sword before me, and took the remaining one.
Franklin studied his sword, scrutinizing its polished blade and jeweled hilt in great detail. He turned it over slowly, carefully studying his pick with undisguised satisfaction.
"This is an elegantly crafted sword," he commented. "Its weight, balance and design have been thoroughly and perfectly weighed and handled with utmost consideration for its wielder. Its blade has been sharpened and tempered to an incredible extent. It has also clearly been polished and maintained with meticulous care."
Really? He can tell? I wondered, studying my sword with a raised eyebrow. I couldn't see anything special about this sword, other than its ridiculously and extravagantly decorated exterior. To be honest, I suspected that this sword would instantly break upon a single clash with one of my Constellation weapons. Even Gemini seemed more durable than this fragile…toy? I couldn't even call it a weapon.
No doubt Franklin was bullshitting, but I wasn't tactless enough to call him out on it. Nor did I want to offend Stuart, so I merely bowed to the clan patriarch and forced myself to make a few positive comments.
"Thank you for the weapon, sir. I must admit that I am not as observant as Franklin, lacking an eye as keen as his." I gestured toward my glasses, which drew some laughter from the watching crowd. "Unfortunate as it is, I also do not possess his ability to appreciate weapons as well. But if there's one thing to say about this sword…it is…um…pretty."
Stuart burst out laughing. "Unfortunately for you, Shawn, Richard here is right. The swords are, like he said, just pretty. They are merely simple designs forged and mass produced in one of my manufacturing factories. They can't even be considered the most basic Divine Devices. Therefore, it isn't as elegantly crafted as you think it is. As such, nobody actually gave much thought or consideration to its design or balance for the user. And no one bothered to maintain it either. They are supposed to be used as ceremonial, display pieces, but I had Claire take them out for use in a friendly duel."
As I thought, I sniggered inwardly. It is merely ornamental.
"But don't worry," Stuart assured Franklin. "They should last the entire duel."
"That is good enough," Franklin replied, his face burning with embarrassment. It took me every ounce of discipline I possessed to keep myself from laughing at him there and then. "I am still grateful to you for handing me such a fine-looking weapon."
"It's okay." Despite wearing an amused expression on his face, Stuart motioned for us to take our respective places at either side of the arena. The dancers and party-goers in the area had cleared out, presumably having overheard Stuart's conversation with us, or more likely, ushered away by the maids and butlers who were guiding them toward the rows of seats at the edge of the room, right in front of the banquet tables. "If there are no objections, I would like for the duel to commence immediately."
Stuart himself took his place at the golden-plated chair that resembled a king's throne, relaxing in the huge seat as he propped both hands on the armrests. As I suspected, he looked more like a modern-day monarch than a corporation president. His vanity and desire to play king never ceased to amaze me.
The old patriarch even had a box of people sitting on either side of him, giving them the appearance of nobles at court with their king. Even though the servants were the ones leading them to their seats, I was sure that the men and women closest to Stuart were most likely high-ranking executives or leaders of other corporations and great families.
I glanced around and caught sight of Alicia and Adrian seated further back, around the corner of the room. For some reason, Cecilia had opted to join them instead of sitting next to her father. I guess she found the whole display ridiculous as well, and wanted no part of it.
I didn't blame her. I would feel embarrassed at this middle school second year syndrome if I were in her shoes.
Taking a deep breath, I swung my sword to prepare myself, and perhaps ease my nerves. In contrast, Franklin looked completely relaxed.
"Lord Stuart," he began while leisurely leaning against his side of the arena. "I would like to state my request, if that is fine with you."
"Hmm?" Stuart raised an eyebrow.
"You said you'll grant us any request if we win," Franklin reminded the older man. The patriarch nodded.
"Indeed I did, but only if you win. The outcome has yet to be decided, and the two of you have yet to fight."
"I apologize for my impatience, but I hope you don't mind if I have everyone serve as witnesses to my request. And also, to ensure that I am not asking the impossible." Franklin smiled. I suddenly understood what he was trying to do. If Stuart agreed to his request here and now, there was no way he could take back his word if Franklin won. Not after he made a promise in front of so many people. The cunning bastard's grin grew. "Plus it will also serve as a huge motivation for me to win the fight."
Stuart regarded the young man for a moment, and then nodded.
"Very well," he conceded. "Name your request."
"If I win, I would like you to name me successor to the Stuart Corporation, and grant me 55% of the company shares."
Shocked gasps echoed throughout the huge room as the guests and party-goers murmured at the bold request. This wasn't just a simple wish for monetary rewards. Franklin was seeking to cement his status and wealth as soon as possible and monopolize the Stuart Corporation under his rule. Perhaps he even meant to subordinate the Stuart Clan under his Franklin Clan or merge the two great families. The political implications if this went through would be immense and world-changing.
"If I win, of course." Franklin quickly qualified, raising his voice to be heard over the outraged whispers and diatribes from the spectators. "If this request is unreasonable, then I do not mind changing it. I understand that I am asking for a lot."
Stuart considered his words for a few moments, and then finally nodded in consent.
"I don't see why not," he said carefully. "When you marry Cecilia, you will inherit the Stuart Corporation and become its future president anyway. I do not see any harm in giving you a monopoly over the company shares. It will just be sooner rather than later." He smiled. "But that is assuming you do win, of course."
"Yes, I understand."
Even as he said that, Franklin's eyes sparkled confidently and arrogantly. He had no doubt that he was going to win this match. He was already anticipating his prize and making plans for his future reign over the Stuart clan, their wealth and holdings.
"What about you, Richard?" Stuart turned to me. "Since Shawn has named his prize, it is only fair that we hear out your request as well."
"Huh? Uh…um…"
Caught off guard, I stammered for a moment until my mind finally kicked itself into gear. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head and blurted out.
"I am sorry, but I do not believe that I have any requests at the moment. Perhaps if I win, I will think of a request then. It is meaningless to make a request when I haven't achieved any victory yet. I would prefer to focus on the battle instead."
"Ha ha! Well said!" Stuart chuckled. "Then I'll eagerly await your answer after the duel!"
"Don't worry," Franklin assured me confidently in a low voice. "You don't need to trouble yourself with thinking of what sort of request you should make. It won't matter eventually because I'll definitely win this match."
"Gee, thanks," I retorted sarcastically. "I hope your words are sweet, because I'll make sure you'll be eating them. Off the floor."
"What…"
I ignored him and swung my sword, my mana rippling across the blade. As fragile as it was, it would have to do. I had trained with wooden swords in my dad's dojo. Surely a sword made of metal shouldn't be that bad…
"Well, then." Stuart's deep voice boomed across the room, cutting Franklin's curses and swearing off. "If there aren't any further problems, then allow us to begin!"
He glanced at the both of us, and I nodded.
"I am ready."
"I am keen to start as well," Franklin said at the same time.
"Very good! Let the match commence!"
The president of Stuart Corporation signaled to one of his servants, a tall, dark man in a tuxedo who was standing next to a bell. The butler nodded, picked up a gong and smashed it into the bell with a thunderous clang.
The match had finally begun.