Chereads / World of the Mad Genius / Chapter 4 - Gorilla 2

Chapter 4 - Gorilla 2

"Hey now why are you staring at me like that?"

Stare like what exactly? As far as I'm concerned, I've always looked at him this way.

Suddenly the duke moved closer towards me.

The Duke's sudden joviality caught me off guard, his loud laugh echoing through the training grounds. 

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort as he wrapped his hands around me, his clammy palms leaving a lingering sensation of unease on my skin.

"Don't be such a hasty bastard," he chortled, delivering a hearty slap to my back. "I didn't call you here just to tease you, hahaha."

As he released me, I fought to suppress a shudder, his lingering touch leaving me feeling distinctly uncomfortable. 

'Ugh… he smells gross, and he feels icky, the warm yet cold sweat from his hands that trickled around my nape was seriously disorienting me'

His presence seemed to fill the space around me, suffocating in its intensity.

Turning his attention to two wooden swords resting nearby, the Duke selected the larger of the two with a satisfied nod. 

"Hmm, this will suffice," he mused, a hint of pride evident in his voice. "I'll have to thank the artisans later."

With a casual toss, he flung the other wooden sword in my direction. Instinctively, I reached out and caught it, only to be taken aback by its unexpected weight. 

It was far heavier than any ordinary blade, its bulkiness adding to the challenge of wielding it.

"Surprised?" The Duke's voice cut through the room, dripping with amusement. I turned to face him, my expression unreadable. 

"Hoho, it's made from the great gravita pinewoods of the north," he continued, gesturing to the imposing sword in his hand. 

"It's almost twice as heavy as a normal sword and as hard as a steel shield. It's the perfect training sword for knights."

Without even asking, I knew why he had summoned me today. This was just another instance of his relentless training regimen. 

Despite being raised to serve as a butler in this household, the Duke had his own peculiar agenda, one that involved molding me into something more than a mere servant. 

He had taken it upon himself to train me since childhood, pushing me to my limits and even experimenting with combat moves on me. 

I shuddered at the memory of the countless near-death experiences I had endured because of his relentless training sessions.

The arrival of the knights was no surprise. After all, my training had been kept a closely guarded secret between the Duke and me. 

Not even Miss Stella or the Duchess were aware of it. As I stood there, holding onto the sword he had thrust into my hands, I braced myself for whatever challenge he had in store.

"Hoh~? You're quite compliant today. I thought I'd have a mouthful of complaints," the Duke remarked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Let's just hurry this up. I've got a lot on my plate today," I replied curtly, my patience wearing thin.

'My head is seriously getting heavier now, I have to satisfy this gorilla's whims as fast as possible'

"Haha, sure, sure," he chuckled, seemingly unfazed by my impatience.

He then started jumping around.

Seriously, watching him darting around with such agility, he resembled nothing less than a nimble monkey, his movements fluid and unpredictable. 

With a sudden burst of energy, he lunged towards me, his speed as astonishing as ever.

As his blade sliced through the air towards me, I saw the gleaming edge, a dark streak in the dim light, aimed directly at my head. 

Having sparred with him countless times since childhood, I knew his moves well. Reacting instinctively, I stepped backward and turned my head to the left, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike. 

However, the burning sensation on my forehead served as a reminder of how close it had come to connecting.

Before I could fully regain my balance, another attack came, this time from my right. His sword thrust forward like a piercing spear, aiming for my heart. 

With my footing still unsteady from dodging his previous assault, evading this one seemed impossible. 

Grasping my sword tightly, I braced myself and managed to block the attack with the flat side of my blade.

The impact reverberated through my body, sending me flying several meters away from him. 

Though I had successfully defended against his strike, the force of the blow still jarred my chest. 

The sheer strength and ferocity of the Duke's attacks seemed to grow with each encounter, making him appear more formidable than ever, like some sort of primal gorilla unleashing its fury.

….

"Hmm~…" The Duke hummed softly to himself as he observed the young man before him. 

The transformation from the frail, almost lifeless figure of yesterday to the robust and lively presence now was striking. 

He couldn't help but feel relieved that his daughter, Stella, hadn't been present to witness the boy's earlier state; her reaction would have been unpredictable, to say the least.

Entering the young man's room yesterday upon hearing of his collapse, the Duke had been prepared for the worst. 

Yet, now, as he stood there, it seemed as though the incident had never occurred. 

The pallor of illness had vanished, replaced by a vigor that belied the previous day's ordeal. 

The Duke couldn't attribute the sudden recovery solely to rest; there was something peculiar about it, something that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

Despite the assurances of the doctor, the Duke couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye. 

He pondered whether the excessive consumption of alcohol had indeed caused the collapse, but doubts lingered. 

There was an underlying unease, a suspicion that whispered of hidden truths waiting to be unearthed.

'He's still the same…' 

The Duke's thoughts echoed as he observed Taylor's growing annoyance at his presence. 

It almost amused him how effortlessly Taylor wore his disrespect like a badge of honor, but this dynamic had been the cornerstone of their relationship since Taylor was a mere youth.

Among all the servants in the household, Taylor held a special place, transcending his role as a mere butler. 

He was an all-rounder, capable of fulfilling a myriad of tasks with unparalleled skill and efficiency. 

But beyond his professional duties, Taylor held a significance that went beyond the confines of employment. 

He was someone the Duke regarded with a paternal fondness, a surrogate son in all but name.

The Duke's desire for a male heir had been intensified by the fear of almost losing the Duchess during Stella's birth. 

The thought of facing such heartache had left him hesitant to entertain the idea of having children. Instead, he had poured his time, energy, and affection into Taylor, treating him as the son he had always longed for.

From imparting basic training to sharing moments of leisure, the Duke had embraced Taylor as a companion, a confidant, and a cherished member of his household. 

Their relationship was built on a foundation of mutual understanding, allowing them to freely exchange banter, express frustrations, and speak candidly with one another.

Grabbing hold of the swords, the Duke prepared for their sparring session. He opted for the larger sword, leaving the other for Taylor. 

The younger man's expression soured at the sight of the weapon, his annoyance thinly veiled despite his practiced poker face. 

Taylor's emotions were always transparent when he was with the Duke, an openness that the Duke both appreciated and exploited.

Taylor understood the unspoken challenge and resigned himself to the inevitable confrontation. 

As the Duke began to move, Taylor jumped around, loosening his muscles and preparing to defend himself against the impending onslaught.

With a sudden burst of speed, the Duke lunged forward, his muscles bulging with intensity, reminiscent of a raging bull charging towards its target. 

But Taylor, ever the adept defender, easily dodged the Duke's strikes, his movements fluid and precise. Despite the Duke's best efforts, he couldn't land a direct hit on the younger man.

"Hahaha," the Duke chuckled softly to himself, admiring Taylor's skill and resilience. 

There was more to his fondness for Taylor than mere chance. 

He remembered the day he had found the boy wandering the streets, a lost child in need of guidance. 

In a moment of whimsy, the Duke had taken him in, treating him like a son ever since.

But there was a profound reason why the Duke held such admiration for this young man. Even the most seasoned knights and esteemed masters would struggle to evade, let alone counter, the Duke's attacks. 

Yet, Taylor seemed to effortlessly dance around his strikes, parrying with an almost casual grace. 

It wasn't just a matter of familiarity with the Duke's techniques; it was the astute way Taylor's eyes tracked the trajectory of each swing, anticipating the movement of the blade before it even came into view. It was a testament to Taylor's unparalleled talent with the sword.

He wasn't merely a gifted swordsman; he was something far more extraordinary. 

With each fluid motion and precise counter, Taylor demonstrated a level of skill and finesse that transcended mere proficiency.

He wasn't just a prodigy; he was a true Genius.

As the duel continued, the Duke couldn't help but marvel at Taylor's prowess.

Each deft maneuver, each calculated response, further solidified his admiration for the young man. 

With a sense of pride swelling in his chest, the Duke pressed on, pushing Taylor to his limits and reveling in the elegant dance of steel that unfolded between them.

They had engaged in this routine countless times, a dance of blades and camaraderie that had become as familiar as the rising sun.

Yet, despite Taylor's undeniable skill with the sword, the Duke knew there was always room for improvement.

Like a precious gemstone in need of refinement, Taylor's abilities still gleamed with untapped potential, waiting to be honed to perfection.

As they sparred beneath the warm glow of the sun, the Duke couldn't help but smile as he pondered ways to further polish the rough edges of his protege's talent.

Solo training could only take Taylor so far; there were limits to what one could achieve without guidance and mentorship.

With a keen eye and a mind brimming with ideas, the Duke contemplated strategies to elevate Taylor's prowess to new heights.

'Perhaps it's time to set him free'