The Martial Unity

The administrations and staffs of both princes had quibbled about the details for longer than Rui had hoped.

The Raijun Administration had been extremely paranoid that Rui was somehow trapping Raijun with this contract. An extensive amount of time across many days and multiple weeks went into solely vetting the rather straightforward and simple contract despite the fact that it was only two pages long.

Until they had finally confirmed that there was no way that this was a trap, Prince Raijun finally signed the two copies of the contract on the projection.

“I’ll have a man deliver one copy to you,” Prince Raijun stared at Rui apprehensively.

“Relax, my brother,” Rui smirked. “It’s just a duel. You get to avoid risking your life yet again.”

Prince Raijun ignored the barb as he stared at Rui with sharp eyes. “I don’t get it.”

The two of them had had a prior cooperative relationship, thus despite the fact that Rui had steamrolled his campaign in the past nine months, he was still able to engage with Rui in a somewhat normal fashion.

“Why are you doing this? What are you hiding?” He stared at Rui with paranoia.

Rui chuckled.

It appeared that his reputation had caused Prince Raijun to assume that there was more to this agreement than met the eye. Perhaps he thought this was part of some brilliant, ingenious scheme that Rui had cooked up.

He was wrong.

But Rui had no intention of correcting him.

“I’m hiding nothing at all,” Rui’s eyes grew sharper as he gave Prince Raijun a mysterious smile. “This is an entirely ordinary agreement with nothing more under the surface.”

Prince Raijun’s expression grew more grave and severe.

He didn’t believe a word Rui uttered.

“…As long as you abide by your concessions when you lose, I don’t care what you have in mind,” Prince Raijun gritted his teeth, clenching his fist.

“I will; you can rest assured about that,” Rui smirked. “Bye-bye.”

He cut the call, chuckling. “He’s paranoid as hell.”

“Anyone would be, Your Highness,” Master Zentra heaved a soft sigh.

Rui got up and walked away. “Tell Mikhaila to ensure the preparations for the match go smoothly. She’s in charge.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” His secretary quickly scribbled in her pad.

“Do not disturb me until it’s important,” Rui remarked calmly. “I intend to spend the next few days conditioning myself for the battle.”

The battle was due in two weeks.

That was the shortest that the Rui Administration had managed to negotiate for. The Raijun Administration had sought for months of time for scouting a fighter, but Rui simply refused.

He knew he held the advantage in the deliberations.

Prince Raijun didn’t and couldn’t know how much Rui cared to save time. As long as Rui postured that this was a trivial event and was willing to cancel at any time, he would always hold the advantage in deliberations.

This was because Prince Raijun was unable to even hide how desperately he wanted this. There was no point in trying to pretend he didn’t want this because anyone with a brain would know that his probability of victory was much higher, even with short notice than if Rui canceled the event.

It was probably his only realistic chance of beating Rui. There was no way he could do it in the Kandrian Throne War.

He didn’t understand why Rui abruptly presented him with an opportunity to get rid of him so simply and straightforwardly.

His legal team had reassured him that there was no trap in the contract, but he found that hard to believe.

Regardless, once the contract was signed, word of it quickly spread across the highest echelons of the Kandrian Empire.

Naturally, those who heard of it were beyond shocked.

It made no sense for the Final Prince to want to level the playing field when he had such an overwhelming advantage. The many stakeholders of the Kandrian Throne War were aghast at the decision that Rui had made.

Yet, the Martial Masters of the Kandrian Empire were the least surprised.

Perhaps they understood his motivations better than normal humans did.

“It depends on how strong he’s become since he fought me,” Master Krakule gruffly remarked. “There are twelve grade-

fifteen Martial Seniors in Kandria. Prince Raijun is bound to be able to get at least one of them to serve as his champion.”

A prince like him had the power to attract all of them with powerful incentives. Especially when their victory would return the Martial Prince to being the strongest competitor for the throne and eventually Emperor.

This meant that Prince Raijun could make promises that included benefits after he became the throne.

“There is no doubt that Prince Raijun will be getting his hands on one of the grade-fifteen Martial Seniors of the Kandrian Empire,” Headmaster Aronian heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know if Rui is prepared to combat this level of power evenly. He is still extremely young for a Martial Senior.”

“I have faith that His Highness is able to,” Master Zentra calmly replied. “He would not have taken this course of action if he did not believe that victory was attainable.”

Master Vericita looked uncertain as her eyes flashed with protective concern.

“Hah!” Master Iskan snorted with a grin. “You should have faith in the little shrimp! He’s strong!”

“I agree,” Master Ceeran’s voice was firm and steely. “If he thinks he can win, he is undoubtedly able to. Rui is the most extraordinary Martial Senior in history. He has accomplished feats that would be deemed absolutely impossible if he hadn’t. His Martial Art has the highest recorded grade in Kandrian history, and his capacity for thought is supernatural. Do not underestimate him!”

Master Vericita closed her eyes. “Rui is indeed extraordinary. But what if Prince Raijun acquires a particularly powerful champion?”

Her eyes flashed with angst.

Her tone grew darker.

“What if…what if he manages to compel the Gatekeeper to serve as his champion?”

In just a moment, the optimism in the air was crushed.

Their expressions grew severe.

The air tingled.

“…Surely Sir Armstrong would not deign to serve as a champion for a Martial Artist he does not respect.” Headmaster Aronian’s voice was grave.

“True. But if he does…” Master Zentra closed his eyes, turning to Master Ceeran. “Would you still be confident in His Highness’ victory?”

For once, Master Ceeran was unable to defend Rui.

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