"Hugo Clay! I challenge you to a duel! You will face me!"
"Wait, what...?"
On the afternoon of his second day in this new world, Hugo was heading toward the dining hall to meet Fee. Suddenly, a mysterious man blocked his path and made an equally abrupt declaration. For the second day in a row, Hugo found himself wearing a look of sheer bewilderment.
The student had brown hair meticulously parted in a seven-three split, giving him the air of a high-strung, fastidious man obsessed with his own pride. He leveled a finger at Hugo, a fearless smirk playing on his lips, and repeated his challenge at the top of his lungs.
"Hugo Clay! It is I, Marcos Borg, who challenges you! Step onto the field of honor! Prepare to become rust upon my blade!"
"Ah... sorry. To be honest, I’m suffering from amnesia right now. I’ve made it a point to turn down things like this until I get my life sorted out. Can we do this another day? If I did something to offend you in the past, I apologize. Look, I’m even bowing! So please, give me a pass for today."
He felt a little guilty for the guy, but Hugo had no intention of engaging in something as barbaric as a duel on only his second day after reincarnation. For the time being, he would rely on his ultimate trump card—'The Man Who Lost His Memory'—to dodge the confrontation.
Hugo lowered his head, hoping the apology would satisfy Marcos, but...
"Hah! I’d heard the rumors, but you really have lost your memory... Not that it matters. You will fight me, Hugo Clay!"
"Seriously? Did I do something that terrible to you? Something so bad you’re this desperate for a fight?"
Hugo was genuinely taken aback. Marcos knew he had amnesia, yet he still insisted on a duel—a far cry from anything resembling a fair fight. When Hugo voiced his confusion, the man responded with a predatory grin.
"No, you didn't do anything to me specifically. I've simply found you loathsome for a long time! You've been disowned, you've lost your powerful Magic Item, that Sacred Sword, and now you've even lost your memory. This is the perfect chance to crush you completely! I’ll see you groveling in the dirt, ensuring you never stand again! Ah-hahaha!"
"...I’m sure you don’t want to hear this from me of all people, but has anyone ever told you that you have a terrible personality?"
It was cowardly—vile, even—but there was a strange honesty in the way he boasted about his malice. Hugo wished the man could have at least tried to maintain a facade of knightly honor. At the same time, he couldn't help but wonder just how much of a bastard the original Hugo must have been to be more hated than this guy. He shook the thought away and addressed Marcos firmly.
"Look, I'm sorry, but I can’t accept. I have someone waiting for me. Let’s save this for another time."
Fee was waiting for him at the dining hall. As much as he pitied the man’s obsession, he had to prioritize the promise he made to his brother. Hugo tried to brush past him, but Marcos caught him by the shoulder, a malicious smile spreading across his face.
"Rest easy, you have nothing to worry about. You're keeping your little brother waiting, aren't you? Well, that won't be a problem anymore."
"What...?"
Hugo’s guard went up instantly at the ominous tone. As he glared at Marcos, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. He spun around to find Fee being hauled along by two men.
"Lord Marcos! We’ve brought Hugo’s brother, just as you ordered!"
"Well done. This should facilitate our conversation quite nicely."
"...What the hell is this? Why is Fee here?"
Fee looked like he’d been dragged there by force, his arms held tight. Hugo’s demeanor shifted instantly, his bewilderment replaced by cold, naked hostility as he stepped toward Marcos.
Laughing as if delighted that Hugo was finally taking him seriously, Marcos explained his reasoning.
"Isn't it obvious? I thought the boy might help convince you. If you still refuse to duel me, then I suppose your brother will have to take your place."
"...You piece of shit."
"N-No, Brother! Don't! I'm fine! They won't actually do anything to me! Don't do something stupid like accepting his—gah!?"
"Fee! Stop it, you bastards!"
Fee’s attempt to persuade Hugo ended in a cry of pain as one of the lackeys twisted his arm. While Hugo roared in anger at the sight of his brother’s suffering, Marcos wore a look of pure amusement and offered the challenge in a sing-song voice.
"Well? What's your choice? If you truly don't care what happens to your precious little brother, then by all means, refuse me. But if you'd rather not see him suffer any further... then take your place on the stage of the Duel, Hugo Clay."
"...Fine. You win. But let Fee go first. Do that, and I'll give you whatever duel you want."
"Brother! No, you can't!"
Satisfied now that he had Hugo’s word, Marcos chuckled and signaled his men. "That's enough. Let the brat go."
"Yes, sir!"
Now that he had served his purpose, Fee was promptly released. He immediately sprinted to Hugo’s side, his eyes brimming with tears as he apologized.
"I’m so sorry, Brother... It’s my fault you’re being forced into this!"
"Don't worry, Fee. You did nothing wrong. These low-lifes are the only ones to blame."
"Haha... what a touching display of brotherly love. I never would have guessed that a piece of trash like you actually cared for his family. How unexpected."
"I’m surprised too," Hugo shot back, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't think it was possible to find someone who lacked even the most basic human decency."
Hugo burned with silent fury while Marcos remained insufferably smug. As the challenge was finalized, they set their terms.
"When I win, you will crawl through the dirt and lick my boots. I’m going to humiliate you so thoroughly that you’ll never be able to stand again, Hugo Clay."
"Fine. But if I win, you and your filthy face stay the hell away from us. Permanently."
Pride against peace. Both sides accepted the conditions. Marcos’s grin widened as he looked at the seething Hugo.
"Then let us go. Allow me to escort you to the stage of your pathetic defeat. I can hardly wait to see you groveling in the mud! Ah-hahaha!"