It was only natural that Maximilian threw a fit.
“What do you mean, ‘no’! You’re openly using the Lennart name!”
“I only said I was from the Lennart family because I admire them! I already explained that!”
“Adelaide von Lennart! Do you really think you can evade responsibility with such wordplay?!”
“I told you, I’m the Lennart Mask! Are you hard of hearing? You should see a doctor, quickly!”
“You… you little…!”
Maximilian’s face grew so red that I worried he might clutch the back of his neck and keel over.
Maximilian had rarely, if ever, lost an argument in his entire life.
This wasn’t because he was an exceptionally skilled orator, but because most people, intimidated by his background, would willingly concede defeat.
Of course, not everyone trembled before him. There were a few powerful figures he had to be extremely careful around, but they wouldn’t engage in such a childish squabble with him in the first place.
If Maximilian had suddenly declared, ‘You’re the first person to ever treat me like this…!’ and fallen for the Lennart Mask on the spot, it would have made for a ridiculous comedy. But alas, no such thing happened.
Instead, Maximilian raised his sword.
“Fine, then! I’ll rip that precious mask off myself and reveal your true identity!”
With a burst of passion, Maximilian kicked off the ground, his body soaring into the air.
His movements were unbelievably agile for someone clad in such heavy armor.
Landing on the rooftop, he swung his sword without a moment’s hesitation.
As the blade flew toward her face, the Lennart Mask—no, Adelaide—hastily leaned back.
Swoosh!
The attack itself didn't connect, but the sharp strike whistling past her eyes was more than enough to put her on high alert.
Worse, the man’s blade was coated in sword energy. His intent was clear: this wasn't about subduing her; it was about killing her, or at least, he didn't care if she lived or died.
“Let’s see how long you can run like a rat!”
Maximilian unleashed the imperial court swordsmanship.
It was a martial art that only members of the imperial direct knight order, the imperial family, or their relatives could learn, and he used it to steadily pressure Adelaide.
He’s strong!
Beneath the mask, Adelaide’s expression turned serious.
To be honest, she had been looking down on Maximilian.
He might not remember due to his memory being erased, but from her perspective, he was an opponent she had already defeated once.
But now, facing him one-on-one, she understood.
Whatever his personality, Maximilian’s skill was the real deal.
The Tin Knight, who had subdued him as if he were some common bandit, was the abnormal one.
And just then, a message from that very Tin Knight echoed in her mind.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says this is a chance to adapt before you face him in the tournament!]
Treat training like a real battle. Or treat a real battle like training.
His training plan was as chaotic as ever, but Adelaide had long since grown used to it.
Adelaide gripped the hilt of her sword.
Clang!
“Pathetic!”
Her strike, aimed at an opening, was easily blocked.
A mocking voice reached her ears, but Adelaide paid it no mind.
Her mind was completely focused on analyzing Maximilian’s every move.
A sword style focused more on defense than offense.
A sword that eliminated unforeseen variables to subdue the opponent safely and surely.
A sword that carried an authority meant to inspire awe in onlookers and helplessness in adversaries.
It was a superb sword style, a highly polished art.
In the swordsmanship Maximilian displayed, Adelaide glimpsed the image of a majestic palace.
However.
His sword and his spirit are out of sync.
Maximilian’s swordsmanship (åæ) was indeed refined and profound.
But his sword energy (åæ°£) was incredibly wild and frivolous.
The sword he wielded was one of authority, yet the man himself lacked the weight and dignity to match it, instead surrendering his body to violent impulse.
Adelaide struck the opening created by that dissonance.
Thwack!
“Ugh!”
Maximilian’s face contorted as he was struck in the thigh.
Until now, he had been effortlessly parrying her attacks with his swordsmanship alone. This was the first time she had caught him off guard.
His armor prevented any injury, but the humiliation was another matter entirely.
This, however, was only the beginning.
Clang, cla-clang, thwack!
Shin, flank, right upper arm.
Adelaide’s sword rained down relentlessly, striking Maximilian all over his body.
Thanks to the high quality of his armor and defensive magic tools, he took almost no damage, but Adelaide didn’t care.
She had been fighting the Tin Knight, whose armor couldn't be pierced by any blade, since her days at rock bottom.
This was just another day at the office.
“Dammit, if only the footing were better!” Maximilian cursed in frustration.
The terrain they fought on was the sharp, triangular peak of a roof, and the footing was naturally unstable.
He had to concentrate on maintaining his balance with every single step, while his opponent was hopping about as if she were on flat ground.
He was beginning to wonder if she was human or some kind of animal.
As if to vent his boiling anger, Maximilian’s attacks grew fiercer.
Thanks to a privileged upbringing, his sword energy was immense and flashy, but the more he acted out, the easier it became for Adelaide.
The swordsmanship he had learned was of such a high level that finding openings was difficult, but the more recklessly he behaved, the more the inherent strengths of the style faded.
Whack!
“Gah!?”
Spotting an opening, Adelaide swung her sword and smacked him on the back of the head.
A bluish barrier materialized just before impact, preventing a direct hit, but it sent Maximilian stumbling forward.
And they were standing on a roof.
Thud!
The sight of Maximilian tumbling off the roof and crashing to the ground was clearly imprinted in the eyes of the onlookers.
Not a single scratch marred his body, and his armor was still intact, but there was nothing he could do about being covered in dirt from rolling on the ground.
“My lord!”
His men rushed over to help him up, but Maximilian shoved them away roughly and glared at Adelaide on the roof with bloodshot eyes.
Adelaide addressed him.
“Please give up and go back. The judgment for their crimes will be delivered not by you or me, but by the Lord of Thracus.”
“Nonsense!”
Maximilian cut her off flatly.
He screamed in a fit of rage.
“Adelaide von Lennart! Are you going to protect these lawless thugs to the very end?! It makes me wonder what they paid you to go this far! The honor of the Lion Duke’s bloodline has fallen to the dirt!”
“I told you, I’m not Adelaide. I’m the Lennart Mask.”
“You dare mock me to the end…!”
It was then.
“I don’t understand why you can’t trust people. She says she’s the Lennart Mask, so just believe her.”
A voice from the crowd cut through the air and reached Maximilian’s ears.
Maximilian’s head whipped around.
A beautiful woman with blonde hair and violet eyes was staring at him with her arms crossed.
And beside her, two swordsmen with the same hair and eye color stood at the ready.
One of the members of the Patriotic Youth Group let out a groan.
“Maris von Lennart…!”
The woman called Maris spoke in a mystified tone, as if she couldn't make sense of the situation.
“You keep bringing up our family, but there’s no connection whatsoever between the Lennart Ducal House and this shop, you know?”
Maximilian immediately retorted.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Isn’t that girl protecting the shop right now?!”
“You’re really slow on the uptake. I’m telling you, she’s not a Lennart. She said so herself. She’s just a fan.”
“Do you think such a flimsy excuse will work?! It’s obvious to anyone that—”
“—But if she really is a member of our family,”
Maris’s voice completely changed.
Her somewhat lighthearted expression and atmosphere vanished, and ice-cold eyes pierced Maximilian.
“Then that would mean the second son of the Haidern Marquis family has insulted the entire Lennart family and even resorted to violence when words failed him. Can you handle the consequences?”
Maximilian, who had been about to spew another stream of insults, snapped his mouth shut.
Maris glanced up at Adelaide on the roof before continuing.
“If that girl is just ‘an outsider who admires the Lennart family,’ then all your talk about the Lennarts can be dismissed as a mere jab at a fake daring to impersonate the ducal family. It’s a bit unpleasant, but not something I’d need to report to the Duke.”
Even though they were all grouped together as the Lion Duke’s bloodline, if you gathered the main line, the collateral lines, and all the relatives, the number would exceed three digits.
It was one thing if it involved an important figure from the main family, but the ducal house couldn't step in every time to avenge or save the face of every single member.
However, if the entire family’s name was dragged into it, not even they could ignore it.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Can you handle it?”
Only then did Maximilian realize his mistake.
If he had wanted to gain the upper hand in public opinion or a battle of justifications, he should have targeted ‘Adelaide von Lennart’ as an individual, and only her.
He should have framed it as Adelaide’s personal transgression, her personal corruption.
In fact, that had been his initial plan when Adelaide first intervened.
But, agitated by her repeated provocations, he had strayed from his plan, failing to narrow his target and making one verbal slip-up after another. The issue had escalated from a simple battle of pride to a matter between two powerful houses.
Now, whether Adelaide’s disguise was crude or not was no longer important.
No, even if her disguise were more obvious, Maximilian and the Patriotic Youth Group would have to grit their teeth and pretend they didn’t know her true identity.
Maris von Lennart, one of the Duke’s own daughters, had given him an out. To ignore it would be tantamount to declaring all-out war.
“Grrgh…!”
Maximilian ground his teeth.
He may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he couldn't just recklessly charge at an opponent of a similar standing.
If he did, even if the Empress forgave him, his father, Marquis Haidern, certainly would not.
Sensing Maximilian’s hesitation, his subordinates quickly moved to build a justification for a retreat.
“Let’s leave it at that, my lord. If you continue to squabble with this madwoman who shamelessly impersonates the Lennart family, it will only tarnish your dignity.”
“After such a stern warning from you, my lord, the company wouldn’t dare dream of committing any more evil deeds. Our objective has been achieved, so let us be on our way.”
This wasn’t a retreat because the situation was unfavorable; they were simply withdrawing because their goals had been met. Hearing this, Maximilian reluctantly agreed.
“Hah, if you insist, then I have no choice. Indeed, getting worked up over a lunatic’s ramblings would only diminish my own standing.”
At Maximilian’s words, the faces of the Youth Group members, who had been worried he might stubbornly press on, lit up.
“Exactly, my lord! Your noble sword should not be used against such a madwoman and these lowly merchants!”
“We have a busy schedule ahead of us. Come, let us hurry.”
With a deliberately dignified stride, they departed, doing their utmost to project the image of ‘withdrawing, not fleeing.’
Of course, unless the onlookers were blind, no one failed to realize that this was effectively a declaration of defeat.
The members themselves seemed to know it too, as the faces and ears of several youths were flushed bright red.
“Phew…”
Only then did the Lennart Mask—no, Adelaide—let out a sigh of relief.
If things had escalated any further, she would have been in trouble as well.
The thought of facing the witch’s fury—‘I told you not to cause trouble!!’—was a terrifying prospect.
The fact that they could live relatively comfortably despite rolling around in all sorts of rough places was largely thanks to Dorothea’s magic.
The moment an enraged witch issued a magic ban, Adelaide’s standard of living would plummet to that of a wild castaway.
No, even before that, her body would surely be ground to dust by the Tin Knight’s training if she couldn’t eat Dorothea’s special nutritional meals. The Tin Knight himself tried to provide for her, but a whole roasted animal, skin and all, was a bit much.
Adelaide expressed her gratitude to Maris.
“Thank you. Thanks to you, we were able to get through this safely.”
“Well, you’re a fan. I have to provide some fan service.”
“Ah, haha, hahaha.”
As Adelaide could only laugh awkwardly, Maris gave her a mischievous smile.
“By the way, don’t you want an autograph? Oh, no. Since we’re here, it would be nice to have a picture drawn of us together. I know a pretty skilled artist.”
“…Pardon?”
Adelaide’s body stiffened.
She had a feeling the conversation was taking a strange turn.
Maris sent a lukewarm gaze toward her.
It was a look that held both affection for a relative creating an embarrassing memory and the sharp glint of someone thinking, ‘I can’t let this opportunity slip by.’
“Why? You said you admire our family, but you’re just going to leave? Don’t tell me everything you said was a lie?”
“N-No, it’s not that, it’s just—!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m the type to value privacy, too. I won’t ask you to take off your mask. You’re the ‘Lennart Mask,’ after all. I can’t take away your identity.”
Adelaide desperately looked around for the Tin Knight.
And then.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says he knows how to read the room, so he'll make himself scarce!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ cheers you on to have a good time!]
The price for trusting the Tin Knight when there was no one else to trust in the world was brutal.
In utter despair, Adelaide was dragged away by Maris’s hand.
When she returned, there was a single drawing in her hand.
It was a picture of her, standing next to Maris, wearing a mask and making a V-sign with her fingers.
And so, Adelaide…
The Lennart Mask was immortalized.