Colt didn't mind the second prince's decision.
He had expected things to come to this eventually.
So all he had to do now was beat Marcus. But that alone wouldn't be enough.
The truth had to come out, too.
Even if the duel had been a ridiculous suggestion on the prince's part, Colt intended to use it to his advantage.
The only reason he hadn't spoken up earlier was because he didn't want anyone to know he had defeated Charles, a fourth-year student.
But if needed, he could always lie.
An area was cleared for the duel. While that happened, Count Landon approached Colt.
"I'm sorry. Even though you're our benefactor, I couldn't stop this."
"Count Springold, it's enough that you even tried—especially for someone like me, a commoner. Please don't worry. I'll be fine."
"Don't speak like that. And don't worry—no matter what happens, I won't let anything happen to you."
"Thank you, sir."
Colt and Marcus stepped into the space that had been loosely marked off as the arena.
Marcus was smiling. There were no weapons present—after all, this was a formal event, and no one had come armed.
That meant the fight would be unarmed, too.
Naturally, this gave assassins an advantage. Their combat style relied on physical enhancement, while mages depended heavily on their staves.
Count Fera Ramgan, who had been named referee, raised his voice. "It is forbidden to seriously injure or kill your opponent. Begin!"
The moment the words left his mouth, Marcus vanished.
Most of the high-ranking nobles could still see him—their perception levels were high—but their children could not.
Colt, however, remained perfectly still, surprising everyone.
He didn't need anything flashy. He already knew how to deal with Marcus without attracting suspicion.
But of course, he wasn't going to end the match immediately.
He lifted his foot and stomped.
A subtle wave of energy rippled outward from the impact.
And just like that—Marcus reappeared.
The crowd stirred. Whispers passed between the nobles.
A mage had revealed an assassin's location with a stomp. And without a staff.
It was possible, yes—powerful mages could use an advanced version of the revealing spell Seila had tried earlier, casting it quickly with enough practice.
But even then, they'd need a staff to channel it.
Is there a more advanced version of that spell? Is it a unique one? Many wondered.
Marcus was just as stunned.
"How?" he muttered, but didn't stop. He vanished again, only to reappear after another stomp from Colt.
He didn't get angry.
"I see. So you have some kind of unique spell. But you still don't have a staff!"
Then, he did something that only a physical strength type could do.
He rushed in, swinging a fist at Colt.
Colt smirked. That was exactly what he'd hoped for. In close combat, the level difference wouldn't matter—not with a gap this small.
So, no one could understand how strong Colt actually was.
He dodged easily but didn't counter.
Marcus continued throwing punches, but Colt slipped past every one of them with practiced ease.
Not a single blow landed.
The duel looked less like a clash between a mage and an assassin, and more like two kids fooling around while the adults watched in confusion.
After a while, Marcus began to tire.
His breathing was ragged now. His fists were heavy, his shoulders slumped. Colt still hadn't countered once.
The nobles were growing restless. Whispers again. Disbelief. Even the second prince's confident expression had begun to stiffen.
Colt tilted his head, then took a step back, arms still relaxed behind him. Just enough space to let his voice carry.
"You know... I thought Charles Maguire would be more impressive."
Marcus flinched.
Colt smiled a little. Just a small, crooked grin. He didn't even look at Marcus as he continued.
"I mean, fourth-year, noble, high rank, strong family. But when it mattered most, where was he?"
Marcus clenched his jaw.
"And you really think he went off to fight the enemy?" Colt said, as if musing aloud. "Or maybe he got scared. Maybe he ran.
That would explain why no one's heard from him. The criminal must be going after him since he escaped."
"Shut up."
Colt blinked, as if confused.
"I'm just wondering," he said. "Because when I found Seila, she was alone. No one was guarding her.
Not even a trace of a fight. Almost like she'd been left there on purpose."
"I said shut up!"
Colt finally looked at him. Calm. Curious.
"Or was that his idea?" he asked. "Lure her out, pretend to be a hero, and what... lose his nerve?"
Marcus's face twisted.
"He didn't lose his nerve!"
Colt waited.
"He—he just—he wasn't pretending! He was trying to help! He just...!"
The silence pulled tighter. Everyone was listening.
Colt said nothing.
Marcus's lips moved before he could stop them.
"He just wanted to control her because—!"
He froze. His eyes widened.
Colt tilted his head again. "Because, what?"
Marcus took a step back, his face pale now.
Too late.
The nobles were murmuring louder now. Some looked confused. Others suspicious. Count Landon narrowed his eyes.
Marcus looked around, desperate, as if trying to take it back.
"I didn't—he didn't—"
Colt held up a hand. Calm again.
"No need to explain. I understand now."
And that was all he said. Then, he threw a punch.
He had already made Marcus confess. And by now, he had likely lost his chance to bring down the entire Maguire family.
Marcus would be taken in by the royal family. Colt couldn't touch him after that.
So, the least he could do was leave him with a punch he wouldn't forget.
Of course, it wasn't just any punch. Marcus had already passed out, collapsing to the ground.
Count Landon stepped forward. "Take this one in. Tie his hands. Find out exactly what happened."
Then he turned to Colt. "You told me you didn't know anything. Was that a lie?"
The count wasn't a fool. He had seen through it. Colt had lured Marcus into a trap with his words—and to do that, he had to have known the truth from the start.
"Sir, I knew Charles was the one who abducted her..." Colt admitted.
"Then why didn't you tell me!?" Landon thundered.
He had every reason to be furious. If he'd known earlier, he could've dismantled the Maguire family already.
Before Colt could reply, Seila stepped in.
"I asked him not to, Father. Please don't blame Colt."
"What? Why would you do that?" Landon asked, his voice softer now.
"To protect him," Seila said. "I thought that if the Maguires found out Colt was the one who exposed Charles, they'd send someone after him."
Considering the Maguires were an assassin family, her concern wasn't unfounded. Even with the count's protection, he couldn't keep an eye on Colt every moment of the day.
"Father, none of that changes the fact that Colt followed my orders. And he's still our benefactor," Seila added firmly.
Landon sighed. "You're right. Colt is indeed our benefactor."
"That is not the issue right now!" the second prince interrupted, his voice sharp. "A commoner has struck down a noble. He must be judged!"