Chapter 18: A Terrible Reputation

  Devils of the 66th dimension loved concepts like reputation and saving face above all else. Therefore, a young whelp provoking an actual nobleman had to be a great sensation that required a proper response!

  If Borowiak hadn't flown into a rage after the condition about the weapon was set, it would have cost him his standing among his brethren, perhaps even affecting his business. And a devilish nobleman loved few things more than the money that flowed from business.

  The air around the offended man began to ripple, and the temperature there rose sharply. A sinister energy, flowing from his very emotions, could be seen surrounding him. On the outside of his wrist, four lines gleamed, symbolizing the level of Ki Gathering he had achieved.

  "You are impudent for a common servant, and you clearly need to be taught proper respect for the higher classes," the devil finally said. "I agree to give up the weapon. However, if I win, then for half a year—after you return from your pilgrimage—you will be shoveling manure at my estate!"

  The assembled noble brethren whistled at the condition that had been set, and their respect for Borowiak was even affirmed. For the nobility, who never engaged in physical labor, mucking about in manure was synonymous with the greatest of nightmares.

  Justinian nodded with a serious expression. He had deliberately provoked the nobleman; following Rudnicki's advice, he knew that in order to develop, he had to participate in difficult fights. Beating up kids at a lower level of Ki Gathering would do little for him.

  Soon, the rules of the duel were established—it would last until submission or unconsciousness, and it was forbidden to leave the banquet hall.

  Crowds of she-devils watched the spectacle with concern, worried that something might happen to Justinian's face. On the other hand, the devils present were mostly very enthusiastic about the event. They placed their hopes in Borowiak, who could get their great enemy.

  Rudnicki watched with curiosity from his seat.

  'I suspect what the young man is up to,' he mused, stroking his long mustache. 'It seems to me, however, that he's underestimating Borowiak a bit. This could be a tough fight.'

  After all, Justinian himself had only three lines of Ki Gathering, though he was slowly approaching a breakthrough.

  The two men stood opposite each other. One of them, with horns protruding from his head, a saber, a ?upan, and a kontusz, was a local nobleman; the other, dressed in the much less opulent attire of a servant, was a human from a distant kingdom.

  Soon, the clash began!

  Borowiak, keeping in mind that his reputation was on the line, had no intention of fooling around and leaped at his opponent from the start with a great bound, intending to cut him with a backhand swing. The other, surprised by the length of the jump—strong legs were a specialty of the Borowiak devil family—barely dodged the blow.

  "Get him!"

  "Cut the bastard!"

  "Borowiak, you stinker, don't you dare!"

  The crowds shouted. Both fighters, however, tried to pay them no mind.

  Justinian tried to land a few blows, but as he expected, Borowiak, being at a higher level of Ki Gathering, was much stronger and faster, so he parried them with ease. The fact that the nobleman repeatedly counter-attacked with his saber didn't help either.

  After a few such attempts, the first, modest exchange occurred. Justinian didn't manage to dodge in time, and the blade cut shallowly across his shoulder. The wound wasn't deep, but blood immediately began to seep from it. He managed to answer Borowiak with a powerful blow to the ribs, but the nobleman didn't seem to feel it particularly strongly—evidently, the difference in levels nullified the actual force of the impact.

  "That's it!"

  "Bravo, Borowiak!"

  Shouts immediately erupted from the gawking devils. At the same time, the she-devils looked increasingly worried. The romantic hero of their hearts would soon be shoveling manure? Many of them already began to plot how to prevent this!

  The observing Rudnicki had to nod his head in appreciation.

  'The young one is holding up quite well, but the fact is that my cowardly neighbor has approached this duel contrary to the devilish virtue of pride and is being carefully watchful of everything,' he mused, deciding at the same time that for such behavior unworthy of a nobleman, he would have to pay Borowiak another raid.

  The noble brother in question was not satisfied with what was happening.

  'Damn brat, he either has some super technique or he's been training like a madman. I can't believe the fight is even so far,' he thought.

  Remembering that he was fighting someone weaker, he also considered the risk of losing face if he didn't end the duel quickly enough. Therefore, he used the powerful ancestral strength of his legs and leaped at Justinian, attacking him with a terrible kick. This was his specialty, the so-called "falling leaf"!

  "Damn it!" the human swore, seeing the power with which the devil attacked.

  Although he tried to lean back, he still took a glancing blow on his guard, which had already lost a good portion of its momentum. It proved so powerful that... he flew several meters backward through the air! Only to see that Borowiak had already jumped for another attack!

  The crowd was going wild, and this situation was to decide everything! To tell the truth, the nobleman attacked again with such fury because, while delivering the previous blow, he had seen his daughter, Aldona, out of the corner of his eye. To his horror and indignation, he realized that she was cheering for this little punk!

  This was too much for the proud devil, and he planned to painfully knock that romantic nonsense out of her head. He was already setting his legs for a powerful kick when... he saw a flash in his opponent's eye.

  'What the hell?!' In a split second, he felt that something was wrong, that this kid was preparing something truly awful against him!

  In the hall, among the observers, Nikodem Rudnicki shot to his feet; he had also seen the flash and knew well what it was.

  Borowiak did not have that luxury and, gritting his teeth, he halted his attack to immediately assume a defensive stance. He didn't know that this was exactly what Justinian was waiting for!

  Being in a desperate situation, he used a technique at the last moment, the basics of which he had observed from Rudnicki—the killer's intent, used on him earlier. Of course, Justinian's version was much, much weaker than that of the pot-bellied nobleman. But in a fight, fractions of a second counted, and the fact that his opponent was not launching an attack allowed the human to prepare his own!

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  His right hand and forearm became covered in an iron texture as he took a powerful swing, drawing strength from his stance. This was his technique, the "right hand of justice." Soon, he unleashed a terrible blow that struck the defending Borowiak!

  Both warriors cried out, and a huge bang resounded!

  Justinian's body, using strength above its level, could not withstand it, and after delivering the blow, the boy immediately spat out a gush of blood. Despite this, he was still on his feet and could continue to fight!

  All this happened in the span of seconds, and only a moment later were the shocked reactions of the audience heard. The devils, not believing what they were seeing, took deep gasps of air, while the she-devils stood like pillars of salt.

  All because of... what had happened to the nobleman Borowiak.

  "You little bastard!" his scream was heard. It sounded very... strange.

  At first, Justinian didn't know where his opponent had landed, so he began to look around, expecting a counterattack. Then, however, he saw that something was not right.

  Masses of dust were floating everywhere, and part of the crowd was looking at him with a very strange expression. When Rudnicki's boisterous laughter rang out, Justinian, frowning, noticed that the other part of the crowd was looking up...

  And there, in all their glory, hung the thick legs of the nobleman Borowiak... stuck in the ceiling! The devil was thrashing about and cursing the human, but he could do nothing about the terrible truth. The blow had been powerful, but he had managed to survive it thanks to his defensive stance. Unfortunately, because he was in the air, exposed like a sitting duck... the force of the collision had driven him into the wooden ceiling of Rudnicki's manor!

  Now he couldn't get out and was trying to squirm in every possible way to do something about it... to no avail. It looked absolutely comical, and soon, the host's laughter was joined by the suppressed laughter of the other nobles.

  The whole hall was laughing, including a slightly embarrassed Aldona, who couldn't comprehend the absurdity of the situation. Even Justinian, despite his wounds and the previously serious atmosphere, began to laugh.

  "Bastards! Get me down!" the trapped nobleman threatened, only increasing the prevailing joy. His shouts were heard for a good few minutes until Rudnicki finally decided to take pity on him and free him from his predicament.

  Justinian was declared the winner of the duel.

  The events of the duel had far-reaching consequences. First of all, Borowiak was so ashamed that he dared not show himself in company anymore. He left only his saber, which he had promised to give up in case of defeat, and that was the last anyone saw of him.

  His daughter, Aldona, remained at Rudnicki's manor for the time being. When she saw how the other she-devils were trying to curry favor with Justinian, it threw her into a terrible rage, and now, to his despair, she did not leave his side even for a moment. She bared her fangs at any hellish woman who had the audacity to come within a few meters.

  Rudnicki himself was very pleased with his ward's victory. He believed it brought him additional noble honor if even his ward could defeat a neighboring nobleman in a duel. In such a good mood, he decided to provide the young man with a noble's outfit, often worn by devils just entering adulthood.

  "Hahaha, with an outfit and a reputation like that, no she-devil will be able to resist you!" he laughed at the boy, who was in no mood for romance.

  Despite this, Justinian appreciated the contribution the devil had made to his training. The instruction in the basics of intent and the art of devilish combat seemed very valuable to him. Consequently, he felt he had a debt to the nobleman that would be difficult to repay.

  On the day of departure, as the sun of the 66th dimension of hell barely rose above the horizon, Rudnicki found Justinian by the stables. The boy was carefully checking his equipment, polishing Borowiak's new saber, which was tied to his saddle, one last time. Aldona was hovering nearby, trying unsuccessfully to stuff yet another, the fifth, jar of jam into the saddlebags.

  "Ready to go out into the world and break more devilish hearts, eh, my dear friend?" Rudnicki began, twirling his mustache with satisfaction. Sparks of amusement still danced in his eyes at the memory of the duel's finale. "I must admit, the way you drove Borowiak into my ceiling... poetry! They'll be singing songs about it for years. That miser probably still feels the humiliation in his bones."

  Justinian smiled slightly, though with some embarrassment. "I had a bit of luck."

  "Luck must be helped along," the nobleman replied, glancing appreciatively at the weapon at the boy's side. His expression, however, soon turned serious. "I see you're taking care of your prize. And rightly so, because it's a good saber. But there's a certain catch to it."

  He leaned in and tapped the hilt with his finger. "This weapon served that idiot Borowiak for decades. Every blow, every parry, every drop of blood shed saturated it with his energy and created a specific bond between them."

  Justinian frowned, not quite understanding. "What does that mean?"

  "It means that if you do nothing about it, you will irretrievably lose all the power that idiot accumulated over the years." Rudnicki straightened up and looked north. "Before you head to the mountains of the masters, you might visit Redland, a few days north of my lands. You should find someone there who knows how to reforge the souls of weapons. He will attune the energy from Borowiak's saber to you. Otherwise, you'll waste its potential."

  "Redland?" Justinian repeated, intrigued. The name sounded different from anything he had heard so far.

  Rudnicki snorted with contempt, waving his hand. "Ah, an idiotic invention. A country ruled not by nobility by the grace of God, but by a pathetic people's assembly. Can you imagine? A cobbler's vote is worth as much as a lord's! A stupid system that will sooner or later collapse on its own, but for now... you can find the right specialists there."

  The nobleman's contemptuous words, however, had the opposite of their intended effect. In Justinian's mind, raised on the ideas of justice and order, the thought of a place where status did not come from birth, and everyone had equal rights, was fascinating. 'A place ruled by... everyone?' he thought. It was so different from the feudal structure of the infernal lands that he immediately wanted to see it with his own eyes.

  "Thank you for the advice. We will certainly pay a visit there," he said with new conviction in his voice.

  "Good," the nobleman nodded. "Now get out of here before Aldona completely relieves old Borowiak of his reserves, hahaha!"

  A week before the official journey through the mountains was to begin, the boy set off towards the mountains with Aldona and Franciscus. The she-devil was an adept—though not a representative one—from the mountain of Eusebius, so they went there together.

  "So you're saying, what's your mountain called?" he asked Miss Borowiak, who was walking right behind him with a huge backpack stuffed with jars of homemade jam.

  "Mountain of Research and Development."

  Justinian pondered the meaning of these words. No matter which way he looked at it, it didn't sound very devilish.

  'At least compared to my Mountain of Plague and Misfortune...'

  So he decided to ask for more details.

  "That doesn't sound very terrible, does it? What do you do there?"

  Aldona hesitated a little before answering, as if unsure if she should even bring up the topic.

  "It's..."

  But suddenly, she froze! The travelers began to be choked by some unknown, powerful presence, far beyond their level of comprehension. Both were pressed to the ground, and pale with terror, they could only look at each other in fright.

  What they didn't know was that... the same scenario was taking place throughout the entire region. Also in the noble lands. Also on the four mountains and at the Voivode's residence.

  The entire 66th dimension of hell was as nothing in the face of this powerful presence!

  Then, a moment later, as if paying no attention to the suffering vermin, a powerful voice pierced through space.

  "Subjects of the Lord of Hell, rejoice! For the thirteenth child of the King of Names and Symbols has come into the world!"

  When the announcement ended, the crushing aura also disappeared. Justinian breathed a sigh of relief after the immediate danger had passed, but 13 children of a being who was portrayed by the church as the ultimate evil did not sound very good.

  "Are you all right?" he asked Aldona when he realized that the girl... was trembling all over!

  "Hey!" he nudged her.

  This roused the girl from her lethargy, but it did not at all stop her from being terrified.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  Aldona took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. She finally managed after some time, but her hands were still shaking.

  "Everything's fine... I just... I remembered what our faith says."

  Justinian looked at her with curiosity; this really didn't sound very good.

  "Meaning?"

  Aldona looked him in the eyes and, with a firm gaze, asked.

  "Do you know what the number 13 means to devils?"

  The boy scratched his head; he had had some issues with numerology before, so he knew a little about the subject.

  "Uhh... it's some kind of lucky number, right?"

  The she-devil nodded.

  "Devils usually don't have many children. Often fewer than two. But according to our beliefs, the 13th child of a powerful ruler will be the beginning of a new era."

  "An era?"

  Aldona sighed heavily.

  "This event precedes a holy war and our invasion of other worlds."