Chapter 308 308: The Joy of Battle ( 308 )

The courtyard buzzed with quiet anticipation.

Royal ministers stood at the sides, whispering among themselves.

Garius walked at a steady pace, hands relaxed.

Hesbeirn and Gilmon stood in position, prepared to face each other.

But then—

Garius kept walking.

Right toward them.

Both men frowned in confusion.

Then—Garius pulled out two wooden swords.

Gilmon narrowed his eyes.

Hesbeirn tilted his head.

Neither of them moved.

Because this wasn't what they expected.

Garius smirked, tapping the wooden blades together.

"Hmm? I didn't ask you two to duel each other."

His grin widened, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Come at me!"

Hesbeirn chuckled, shaking his head.

"Hah… I should've known."

Gilmon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"…Seriously?"

On the sidelines—Alf merely shook his head.

Because he already knew.

This was just how his lord was.

Always challenging.

Always playing.

Always reminding everyone exactly who they were dealing with.

Garius raised both swords, stance casual but firm.

His smirk deepened.

"Well? What's wrong?"

He gestured with his fingers.

"Come. At. Me."

The ministers watched in silence.

Because at that moment—they finally understood.

This wasn't just for entertainment.

This was a show of dominance.

A reminder.

That even after all these years…

Garius Armand was still stronger than them all.

"You asked for it, my lord!"

Hesbeirn launched forward, his wooden sword swinging with practiced precision.

At the same time—Gilmon moved in, his strike aiming for the opening.

Two generals attacking at once.

Garius parried Hesbeirn's strike with a single flick of his wrist.

Gilmon's attack was instantly redirected, his own momentum throwing him slightly off balance.

Garius didn't move from his spot.

Didn't even go on the offensive.

He just stood there.

Calm. Relaxed.

Enjoying their reactions.

Hesbeirn clicked his tongue.

Gilmon gritted his teeth, quickly adjusting his stance.

But before they could regroup—

Garius let out a dramatic sigh.

Then, with a smirk—he tilted his head.

"Oh, come on. You two are generals of the army…

And this is the best you can do?"

He casually spun one of his wooden swords in his hand.

Then—his smirk grew wider.

"Even Edmund was better than this."

Hesbeirn froze for a moment.

Gilmon stared at Garius, dumbfounded.

The royal ministers exchanged glances, whispering nervously.

Mentioning the king like that—

Mocking his own generals—

Was Garius really that confident?

Or was he simply that powerful?

Hesbeirn gritted his teeth—then smirked.

"…You're enjoying this too much, my lord."

Gilmon exhaled sharply, gripping his wooden sword tighter.

"Fine. No more holding back."

Both men adjusted their stances.

Their movements became sharper. Faster. More aggressive.

But Garius—

He just smiled.

Because this was exactly what he wanted.

Hesbeirn charged forward, his wooden sword cutting through the air.

Garius effortlessly blocked it with one hand.

But instead of retreating—Hesbeirn grinned.

He jumped back, only to launch another attack the moment his feet touched the ground.

Gilmon saw the opening.

The moment Garius was focused on Hesbeirn—he moved.

Dashing behind Garius, he swung his sword at his exposed back.

But—

Garius blocked it behind his back without even looking.

As if it was nothing.

Garius yawned.

Then—he turned his head slightly.

"Alf?"

Alf raised an eyebrow from the sidelines.

"Yes, my lord?"

Garius parried Hesbeirn's attack, countered Gilmon's strike, then spun around effortlessly.

All while grinning.

"How about you help them too? Consider this a warm-up."

Alf smirked.

"As you wish, my lord."

He drew two wooden swords, his movements smooth and precise.

Then—without hesitation, he charged toward Garius.

The battle intensified.

Hesbeirn struck from the left.

Gilmon attacked from the right.

Alf dashed in from the front, his dual swords moving like a storm.

But—

Garius remained untouched.

He danced between them, blocking, countering, evading—

As if it were all just a game.

The royal ministers, who had expected a normal duel, were now witnessing a battle between four legendary warriors.

And yet—

It still wasn't fair.

Because even with three opponents…

Garius was still winning.

And worst of all—

He was clearly having fun.

Javier lay in bed, sandwiched between Liana and Gloria, who were peacefully asleep.

Everything was quiet—until he heard the noise.

The sharp clacks of wood against wood.

The sound of rapid footsteps.

Laughter.

His eyebrows furrowed.

'What the…?'

His sleepy brain immediately assumed the worst.

'Did the estate get attacked!?'

Javier instantly sat up.

Careful not to wake the girls, he slipped out of bed and rushed to the window.

He peeked outside—

But the view was blocked.

Without wasting time—he moved to the front door and yanked it open.

Javier froze.

His eyes widened in shock.

Because in the middle of the courtyard—

His father…

The 'serious dried plum'

Was actually having fun.

Laughing. Grinning.

And effortlessly fighting three absolute monsters—Hesbeirn, Alf, and some other big muscle guy—at the same time.

With wooden swords.

Javier's throat went dry.

His mind struggled to process what he was seeing.

'Crap…'

His father—who barely showed any emotion…

Who carried himself with absolute authority…

Who barely needed to raise his voice to make people tremble…

Was actually this strong?!

Javier gulped.

"…I didn't know he was this strong."

For the first time in his life—he felt genuine fear of his old man.

Fransesca stirred slightly in her room, hearing the commotion from outside.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm…?"

It wasn't the sound of an emergency.

It wasn't the sound of a real battle.

But it was loud.

And knowing her husband—

She had a feeling.

Fransesca gracefully stepped out, making her way toward the courtyard.

The moment she arrived—she saw it.

Garius.

Her husband.

A man who was always composed. Always reserved. Always calculating.

Right now—he was grinning. Laughing.

Having fun.

Before she could even react, the well-trained household maids moved into action.

A chair was elegantly placed behind her.

A soft cushion was arranged for maximum comfort.

A fresh cup of tea was poured.

A delicate plate of biscuits was set before her.

Fransesca sat down gracefully, taking a sip of her tea.

Her lips curled into a soft, knowing smile.

"…It's been so long since I've seen him enjoying himself like this."

She crossed her legs, resting her chin on her hand.

And with a gentle sip of tea, she continued watching—

As her husband dominated three of them.

Without even breaking a sweat.

( End of Chapter )