Zeke clenched his jaw. The laughter of the crowd sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It didn't matter if there was any ill intent behind it or not. The situation reminded him too much of the first-year students at the Elementium. He would rather leave this place than allow Maya to experience the same thing today.
His eyes narrowed as he studied Mordred, the boy who had spoken. He was young, maybe a year or two older than Zeke. From the size of his core, he was a bit ahead of what he remembered Viola's core to be like. This meant that he was most likely 16 or 17. Zeke did not recognize the spell he had engraved. As the boy only had a Blood affinity, it had to be some type of Blood Magic.
"You've got some nerve," Zeke said slowly, "speaking to your guests like this."
"Just a bit of harmless fun," Mordred said teasingly, raising his hands in a show of surrender. "Who knew that you would be so sensitive? Looks like your Mind affinity won out over Blood."
There was muted laughter from all around and the crowd grew by the moment. Apparently, everyone stopped their fighting in order to watch the altercation. The crowd was comprised of people of all ages. Everything from fresh Apprentices to peak Grand Mages could be found among the spectators. As far as he could tell, there wasn't a single non-Mage present.
In preparation for today, Zeke had read up on the customs of Valor. The conflicting reports had made it hard to separate truth from fiction. The Knights of Valor were described as chivalrous heroes in some tales and as bloodthirsty murderers in others. He had not been at all clear on what to expect. However, it now seemed that the part about them revering strength above all was true at least.
He had to consider this reality. He would not win any debates with logic and arguments in this place. Not when he didn't have a big enough fist to back them up. There was no use in playing coy and Zeke decided to go on the offensive.
"It's not my Mind affinity that won out, but my upbringing," Zeke stated. "Looks like whoever raised you skipped the lessons on manners."
It was not Mordred who responded, but his sister. The woman marched right up to Zeke, her face a mask of seriousness. "My father never skipped the lessons on manners," she said in a low, dangerous tone. Her eyes bore into Zeke's, locking him in place with her quiet intensity. "…He just doesn't have any himself!"
The entire surroundings were deathly quiet. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard. Suddenly, a muffled snort drew everyone's attention. All heads moved as one, searching for the source. Zeke was no exception. However, he hadn't been prepared to come face-to-face with his mother. Mia was covering her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to hold back her voice.
When she saw everybody looking at her, she couldn't hold on any longer. Bursting out with unrestrained laughter, Mia had trouble even staying on her feet. Zeke was horrified and quickly faced the woman in front of him, desperately searching for an excuse. However, when he turned back, he saw something he had not expected. Instead of outrage, he found a wide smile on her face.
She nudged her brother and pointed at Mia. "See? Some people share my sense of humor."
Mordred rolled his eyes. "There is clearly something wrong with that poor woman," he said, shooting Mia a pitying look.
Zeke wanted to interject. However, he knew he had no leg to stand on while his mother kept howling with laughter in the background. Now that the tension was broken, some people even started to join in. They were not laughing at the terrible joke, of course, but were simply swept along by his mother's pace. Zeke had never met anybody who had a more infectious laugh than his mother. There was something captivating about the unrestrained way she showed her joy.
Now that Zeke saw the smiling faces all around, he was forced to reevaluate his approach. Had Mordred been right? Was he really just too thin-skinned? Zeke couldn't tell, but it was clear that he had overreacted. It was entirely possible that he had read too much into the actions of the knights. Instead of a malicious plot to discredit and disrespect him, it was far more likely that the people here were merely… blunt?
Zeke cleared his throat. "I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?"
Mordred and his sister exchanged a glance. "What do you mean?"
Zeke was baffled by the genuine confusion he saw on their faces. Apparently, they had not even picked up on any of the tension he had ascribed to the situation. This confirmed it, they were, in fact, blunt — blunt and socially challenged.
"I just mean that we haven't even introduced ourselves yet," Zeke said. "My name is Ezekiel von Hohenheim."
"Mordred Bloodsword," the boy introduced himself. Zeke nodded. This was not surprising; most of the people here most likely carried that name. After all, this was the Bloodsword family estate.
"What branch of the family are you from?"
Mordred had a weird expression on his face. He pointed at Zeke and turned toward his sister. "Wasn't he supposed to be smart?"
Zeke's brows furrowed. This would take some getting used to.
The woman merely shrugged. "No matter how smart someone is, they don't know what they don't know." Towards Zeke, she said, "Our father is Tristan Bloodsword. My name is Vanessa, by the way — Vanessa Bloodsword."
Zeke's jaw dropped. Those two were the children of the patriarch? How had Valor survived until now with people like this in charge? He could hardly imagine them in a diplomatic setting. He had thought Lara was bad, but compared to these two, she was a master of tact and nuance. Compared to people like Viola and Sophia, they essentially belonged to different species.
"Did… did your father drop you as a child, by any chance?" Zeke asked before he could stop himself.
Vanessa chuckled, punching him playfully. Or at least, what she probably assumed to be playful. A normal person would likely end up with a broken shoulder, and even Zeke got an angry bruise from the love tap. However, with his constitution, something like this would heal in a matter of seconds. Still, he made a mental note not to let her get too close to his family.
While the three were talking, the crowd had started to disperse. To Zeke's surprise, his group had split up as well. David was watching over Mia and Geralt. His parents were talking to a gruff-looking man a little ways off. Their discussion seemed intense, but non-hostile. Zeke could trust David to watch over them.
Maya and Leo had started to wander, watching the ongoing duels. He could see by the expression on Leo's face that he wanted nothing more than to get in on the fun. Zeke felt increasingly bad for his lacking judgment. In his zeal to make a good impression, he had overlooked something crucial. Neither his expensive ship nor fancy clothes impressed them in the slightest. The only thing the Valorians seemed to truly respect was strength.
Zeke scratched his head. He had truly spent too much time around scheming nobles and conniving merchants. He had automatically tried to engineer a situation that would show off his wealth and status. Sophia would be proud, this was the Geistreich way after all. A frown formed on his face at the thought.
"Everything alright? I didn't hit you too hard, did I?" Vanessa asked.
"No way," he responded flippantly. "I just thought it was a shame that your family was so poor."
"Poor? I think we are fairly well off."
"Really?" Zeke asked in surprise. "Then I can't imagine why they wouldn't feed you properly. There was barely any strength behind that punch."
Mordred started chuckling and after a moment, Zeke and Vanessa joined in as well. This kind of ribbing and teasing reminded him of how he and Markus used to behave. It just now occurred to him how little time he actually spent around people his age. Aside from his sparring with Leo, the rest of his day consisted of research, strategizing, and work. He would even stay up late in order to read in his Mind's library. This was no way to live in the long term.
Now that they had gotten to know each other a little better, Zeke felt comfortable enough to ask the question that had been on his mind. "Why didn't your father mention that we were supposed to dress casually?"
"He probably assumed you were aware of our customs," Mordred answered easily. "I still think it is weird that you don't, given your father's-" Before he could finish, he spun around halfway and gracelessly tumbled to the floor. Vanessa had punched him — hard. This was nothing like the punch Zeke had experienced earlier. From his spot on the ground, Mordred looked up at this sister with a betrayed look on his face.
"It's not our place to get involved, Mordred," she cautioned.
Mordred sheepishly rubbed his head. "Fine, fine, forget I even said anything."
Zeke looked between the two. Something was going on that somehow involved his father. Now that he thought about it, hadn't his parents been acting strangely since earlier? Zeke could practically smell that something was afoot — something that was intentionally being kept from him.
"Anyway…" Vanessa said, acting like the scene where she had manhandled her brother didn't happen. "It is truly a shame that you won't be joining the matches. Some of the young ones have really been looking forward to fighting you."
"Me? Why?"
"No use acting humble," Mordred said as he hopped up from his spot on the ground. "Or do you think we didn't hear about how you managed to secure the title of number 1 talent of the empire? Of course, they would all want to test themselves against you. Heck, even I want to give it a go!"
Zeke hadn't considered that the news had spread this far. Apparently, the competition had been a bigger deal than he had realized. He felt a certain sense of glee at the knowledge that he had robbed the four Great families of this honor.
While he was lost in thought, Mordred and Vanessa had led him over to a group of young knights. There was currently no fight going on, and all heads turned toward them as they approached.
"Well, look who it is," a boy about Zeke's age said. "If it isn't the empire's wonderboy… dressed like a fucking peacock."
"Cut it out, Philip," Vanessa reprimanded. "Ezekiel was not aware of our customs. It isn't fair to hold that against him."
Philip shut his mouth. But the sneer on his face made it clear that he did so not because he agreed but out of respect for the woman. Zeke saw similar expressions on the faces of the others as well. This couldn't go on. His reputation would only be further damaged if he relied on the Bloodsword heirs to protect him. He had to play this right if he wanted to earn some respect. A plan quickly formed in his mind.
Zeke made his move. With a flap of his crimson mantle, he suddenly appeared in front of Philip. As he had teleported, there was nobody who could react. Now, his face was only a hairsbreadth away from the slightly shorter boy. Zeke didn't use this chance to strike or cast a spell; instead, he merely looked him up and down. His expression became more disdainful by the second.
"You? Challenge me?" Zeke said in a mocking tone. "What gives you the right, boy? What gives any of you the right to challenge me? A Dragon doesn't duel with ants."
After a tense moment, Philip looked away, no longer able to bear the intense gaze. It was a shame. Now that Zeke had started, old instincts were coming back to him. He wanted to be challenged, wanted them to struggle, wanted to show them their place. Alas, the boy had caved too easily.
Luckily, the girl next to him had more of a spine. "You might talk big, but aren't you just trying to get out of fighting?"
Zeke turned toward her, getting closer than intended. However, he couldn't allow himself to be flustered and rather acted as if he had planned to do this. He even leaned in a bit more. "What's your name?"
"…M-My name is Mina— Mina Bloodsword," the girl responded, a slight flush on her face.
Zeke stepped back, giving her space. "Well, Mina, I didn't say I won't fight, did I? All I said was that you were not worthy. Naturally, there is a way to prove your worth."
"And what would that be?" Philip asked from the side, shooting him a death glare. Zeke smirked, he had noticed the way the boy had tensed when he had gotten close to Mina. It wasn't hard to guess why he reacted that way. Zeke ignored him and focused on the girl in front of him instead.
"Tell me, Mina," he said, "what do you have to do in order to challenge a champion?"
Mina thought about it for a moment. "Defeat the runner-up?" she asked more than stated. It was clear that she thought it was a stupid suggestion.
Zeke smiled warmly. "How very perceptive," he praised. "And yes, that's the answer I was looking for. It is, in fact, exactly what you have to do in order to be able to challenge any champion."
Mina returned his smile, causing Philip to grow even angrier.
"So, what? We first have to invade the empire and defeat some poor kid for the oh-so-great honor of challenging you. Is that what you are suggesting?"
Zeke shot him a sideways glance. "No need. As luck would have it, I've brought that 'poor kid' with me today." Before anyone could say anything else, Zeke turned, his eyes already scanning the crowd. It didn't take him long to spot a bit of blond among the sea of red.
"OY! LEO! ARE YOU UP FOR A FIGHT?!"