Two days after Aron’s awakening—
the day of his duel with Bash had finally arrived.

The venue was the central plaza of Luminage, the city that housed our guild.
Not only adventurers but also townsfolk had gathered shoulder to shoulder, eager to witness the spectacle of an A-Rank party’s “expulsion duel.”

“Who do you think’s gonna win, Bash or Aron?”
“Bash, obviously!”
“I heard the Guildmaster personally trained Aron, though?”
“Ha! Like three days of training would change anything! What could that old tyrant even teach him?”
“Yeah, he just yells and throws his weight around.”
“So it’s Bash’s win, huh?”
“Guess the Guildmaster’s prestige ends today.”
“Hey, keep it down! He’ll hear you!”

The plaza buzzed with excitement and mockery.
Next to me, Emidia puffed her cheeks in indignation.

“Honestly! They speak so freely! None of them understand Lord Jilkane’s true intentions!”

Intentions?
What intentions?

I never explained a thing to her. What was this woman talking about?

“More importantly… the duel is about to begin! Lord Jilkane, as Guildmaster, please address the crowd!”

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, leaving me no room to refuse.
I was planning to start the duel right away, but perhaps this was part of the “original flow.”
In the novel, Jilkane also gave a pompous speech before the duel began.

Fine then. I’ll play the part—raise the curtain and command the stage.

I took a deep breath and projected my voice.

“Citizens and adventurers of Luminage! I thank you for gathering here today! We are about to witness a duel to determine the fate of the A-Rank party Red Dragon’s Wing!”

The crowd erupted in cheers that shook the square.
So this was what passed for entertainment here—no wonder they were so eager.

“Silence!”

At my shout, the plaza quieted.
I clasped my hands behind my back, walking slowly as I met the eyes of the spectators one by one.

“I’ve heard there are those who question our ranking system! And why is that!?”

The onlookers exchanged puzzled glances. I pressed on.

“It’s because no one can tell whether the ranks truly match one’s strength! The skilled are kept low, while the unworthy rise high! Dissatisfaction festers in our guilds!”

These were the exact lines the original Jilkane had spoken.
Coming from his corrupt self, they were pure hypocrisy.
In the novel, he followed this up with: “This duel shall prove your doubts wrong!”

But in truth, corruption and bribery did plague the ranking system. Even the novel acknowledged that.
And now that I’m rewriting this story’s fate, parroting Jilkane’s original self-serving speech would only drag me down.

Normally, I couldn’t care less about “justice.”
But this time, I’d use it—to ensure no one could question this duel’s legitimacy.
To make my second plan succeed.

“It is the corruption of the guild system that has caused this rot! That is why—I have approved this duel!”

I deliberately declared the opposite of what the original Jilkane had said.

“Wait, did he just say ‘corruption’?”
“Can a Guildmaster even admit that!?”
“Still… he’s not wrong.”
“Yeah, but hearing him say it’s kind of crazy…”

Murmurs spread through the crowd.
Naturally. They’d all thought it, but none dared say it aloud in front of Jilkane.
And now here I was—voicing it myself.

“Will A-Rank Bash prove his worth? Or will C-Rank Aron overturn fate through sheer power!?
A duel free of lies and deceit! Witness it with your own eyes!”

“Whoa! The Guildmaster’s fired up!”
“He’s really changed, huh?”
“Still, it’s Aron we’re talking about. No way he wins.”
“Well, we’ll see soon enough.”
“Yeah, that’s the point—let’s see it!”
“Hoho! This should be entertaining.”
“Alright then! Let’s see it, Guildmaster!”

The cheers surged again, shaking the plaza.
Hmm. Stirring up a crowd like this… wasn’t half bad.
Almost addictive.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emidia dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Lord Jilkane… how magnificent… so noble…”

…Right. I didn’t see that.

I scanned the gathered faces—and spotted Sylvia, the mage from Red Dragon’s Wing.
Hands clasped, eyes closed—she was praying.

For Aron, no doubt.
Then let her see. The power of the man I awakened.

“Now then—Bash! Aron! Step forward!”

The two men approached the plaza’s center, swords at their waists.
Bash grinned, eyes gleaming with arrogance.

“Hey, Aron. You seriously think a backline support like you can beat me, a frontliner? Even with the Guildmaster’s babysitting, your power’s still the same.”

A clear taunt. His hostility toward me wasn’t even disguised anymore.

Aron glanced my way. I nodded once, firmly.

“Bash. You’re my childhood friend—I’ll forgive your arrogance. But the Guildmaster is the one who saw my potential and believed in me.
I won’t forgive anyone who mocks him!”

Aron’s aura flared like a blaze.
Even Bash took an involuntary step back.

“W-What the hell is that killing intent!?”

Of course he was shocked.
Aron had fought Death Wolves and a Basilisk just days ago.
He wouldn’t flinch before Bash anymore.

“Then—begin!”

I raised my hand and brought it down sharply.

Aron and Bash leapt apart, drawing their swords and circling.
Neither made the first move—Bash was gauging his opponent.

“Astral Slash!”

Bash lunged forward, his sword glowing with light.
A blade skill capable of cleaving through steel—it aimed straight for Aron’s neck.

“I’ll end this in one blow!!!”

“Powerrest! Quickness!”

Aron cast two enhancement spells, his body instantly sharpening.
He didn’t cast Guard Up—choosing to focus purely on offense and evasion.

Good. Just as I instructed—show him the difference in power.

“He dodged the first one… but how about this!?”

“Ghh—!”

Aron narrowly evaded Bash’s next swing. Bash pressed forward, slashing diagonally.

“What’s wrong!? Thought you could beat me!?”

Aron activated more enhancement spells—now at twofold strength.
For most, that would already push the limits.

“Hah!”

“Boring!”

Their swords clashed again and again. The crowd began to murmur in disappointment.

“Huh?”
“Aron’s not all that.”
“Guess the hype was just talk.”
“Hey, at least he’s not dead yet.”
“Still, A-Rank and C-Rank are worlds apart.”

Let them talk. They wouldn’t be laughing for long.

Aron boosted his body again—threefold enhancement.
The normal maximum.

“Finish it already, Bash!”
“Yeah, one hit!”
“I’ve got money riding on you!”

Bash’s cronies shouted encouragement from the sidelines.
Then—Aron cast again. Fourfold.
Now he’d entered Divine Endowment’s domain.

“Oi, is he… still stacking buffs?”
“No way, his body should’ve torn apart by now!”

Bash’s smirk began to fade. He met Aron’s next slash head-on—and was forced backward.

“Something’s wrong with Bash…”
“He’s… losing ground?”
“That’s impossible… against Aron!?”

Panic spread among his supporters.
Bash’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wh-What the hell…? This sword—why’s it so heavy!?”

He swung wildly in desperation, but Aron’s next enhancement—fivefold—rendered him untouchable.
Their swords met again. This time, Bash’s blade quivered under the force.

“He’s overpowering him!”
“No way… Aron’s stronger!?”
“Impossible! He’s up to six layers of enhancement! That’s suicide!”

By now, even the spectators could see it.
Every clash pushed Bash back further.
Aron’s expression remained calm—steady, resolute.

“It’s useless. Your sword will never reach me.”

“Don’t screw with me, you bastard—!”

But his protest was cut short as his sword was knocked upward.
Exposed chest, open stance. Aron stepped in and struck.

“Guhhh!?”

The impact shattered Bash’s armor and drove the breath from his lungs.

“Bash just—fell!?”
“Aron’s hit was too fast!”
“That wasn’t human strength!”

“Damn it all!! Astral Slash!!”

Bash unleashed his ultimate technique once more.
Aron raised his sword overhead and—

“HAAAAAA!!!”

Brought it down with full force.
The glowing arc of Bash’s skill shattered on impact—his sword snapped in half.
Both his hands went limp.

“Wh… at…?”

His strongest blow—his pride—had been erased by a single downward swing.
Bash stood frozen in disbelief.

“It’s over, Bash!!”

Aron leapt forward, spinning into a roundhouse kick.
The blow connected with Bash’s jaw, launching him through the air and into the crowd.

“GYAAAAAA!!!”

“Get out of the way!!”
“Holy crap, one kick!?”
“That power’s insane!!”

People scattered as Bash crashed into a wall and crumpled to the ground.

“Gghh… aaah…”

Pathetic. Crushed by the overwhelming difference in strength.
The awakened Aron and the arrogant Bash—there was never a contest.

Silence filled the plaza. Then came the murmurs—
which swelled into a roar of praise.

“Unbelievable!!”
“Aron’s a monster!!”
“The Guildmaster saw this coming!?”
“He’s actually competent!?”
“He’s a genius!!”

The crowd’s cheers grew deafening.
For them, it was a miracle.

And for me… it was victory.

The destruction of my destined downfall.
I’d rewritten fate in a matter of days—something that should’ve taken years to avert.

But I never let my guard down.

My gaze drifted past Aron—beaming, scratching his head shyly amid the cheers—
to Bash, sprawled in the dust.

His face was twisted with pure hatred.
The face of a man who’d lost everything.
Who’d sworn revenge.
The first step toward his dark fall.

It was happening—earlier than in the original.

Which was fine by me.
Because this was the final act of my plan.

Bash… you’ll leave this city with a smile on your face.
And you’ll never return.

For my sake.

―――――――――――

Translator’s Note:
This chapter marks the completion of Jilkane’s first “timeline rewrite.” In the original, Bash’s arrogance and Aron’s despair led to tragedy—but here, Jilkane manipulates both the duel and public opinion to secure absolute legitimacy. His crowd speech flips the original hypocrisy into reformist rhetoric—a subtle way to cement his new power.