The Shadow of Great Britain

455: Chapter 251: The Grandeur of the Sword Saint (5K6)_3 455: Chapter 251: The Grandeur of the Sword Saint (5K6)_3 Arthur nodded with a smile, “Mr.

Bertrand, it’s not a big deal.

I had said from the beginning that I hold great respect for you.

Allowing you to perform on the dueling stage was sacrilegious enough, how could I dare to alter the outcome of the duel?

May God witness our battle of honor.

Louis, lend Mr.

Bertrand your officer’s sword, while the dishes are not yet served, let us rehearse here today.”

Louis Bonaparte, upon hearing this, simply removed the officer’s sword from his waist and handed it over.

Bertrand took the sword, and with a ringing sound, he drew it from its sheath.

His stubble reflected on the bright, snowy blade, and he couldn’t help but exclaim, “What a fine sword indeed!

The edge of this sword is far superior to the ones we use at our fencing club.

Can ordinary officers at Scotland Yard use such fine weapons?”

“That’s not the case,” Arthur said with a smile as he stood up holding the officer’s sword, “This sword was specially made on Louis’s request, and it’s not part of the standard issue equipment at Scotland Yard.”

“Specially made?”

Bertrand’s gaze shifted slightly upward, eventually fixating on the hilt of the sword, where two decorative crests were engraved.

One was the Imperial Eagle emblem symbolizing the First French Empire, and the other was the golden bee emblem representing the Bonaparte Family.

Below the two crests, the name of the sword’s owner was inscribed — Charles-Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.

Bertrand’s body shook violently, his palms were soaked with sweat, and even his knees began to feel weak.

He looked up at Louis Bonaparte, who had a beard like a seal, and spoke with a trembling voice, “May I ask if Napoleon Bonaparte is…”

Louis simply nodded lightly, his eyes betraying no emotion, “Yes, you guessed correctly.

Napoleon Bonaparte was my uncle.”

Bertrand’s hands, holding the officer’s sword, trembled, whether from excitement or fear was unclear.

He swallowed, then asked, “Then your father is?”

Louis Bonaparte sighed, it was hard to tell if he was happy or disappointed, his tone was quite flat.

“Napoleon’s younger brother, Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, once king of the Netherlands, but later forced to abdicate.

True, after the coup of Brumaire, when the French Empire was just established, he also served as the Superintendent of Police in Paris.

So, as you see, although I haven’t become a king, I am now a police officer at Scotland Yard, and perhaps later, I could become a police chief.

In a way, this is also following in my father’s footsteps.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur could only smile reassuringly, “Louis, don’t be disheartened.

As your superior, I assure you that you will definitely become a police chief in the future.

As for being a king, I don’t have that much authority, but I think maybe one day you could become something even greater than a king.”

Louis Bonaparte took Arthur’s words as a joke, waving his hand, “Arthur, enough, don’t make fun of me, I know my own worth.

With my name, I have received much.

By myself, I possess nothing.

Born a noble, yet inherently and politically a democrat.

I could have obtained everything through inheritance, but in reality, I am wholly devoted to elections.

I know some people want to use me; they flatter me because of my name, and others because of my titles.”

If I were to take a step beyond the usual path, there would be those who said I was ambitious.

If I quietly stayed in a corner, there would be those who said I was indifferent.

In a word, my name incited a similar fear among both the liberals and the absolute monarchists.

Even if I intended to do so, my only political ally could be found among gamblers, as they believed among the various possibilities, I could become a useful bargaining chip.

On this point, my cousin in Vienna had already shown me, as he had become a prisoner of the Austrian Empire and Metternich.”

Having barely finished speaking, and before Arthur could respond, suddenly, Bertrand’s excited voice rang out in the room.

“No, that is not the case, Your Excellency!”

Thereupon, Bertrand knelt on one knee, lifting a police saber in both hands to present it before Louis as he passionately cried out, “Perhaps because you are abroad, you do not understand what the Bonaparte surname means to France.

Neither the former Bourbons nor the current Orleans have brought true glory to France.

No matter what those people say or think, in our hearts, that honorable, supreme position has always belonged to that man.

Your Excellency, please remember, no matter what rumors you hear, the Bertrand family’s highest honor and only creed is that a Bertrand man’s sword will only ever swing for a member of the Bonaparte family!”

Upon hearing this, Arthur involuntarily leaned back in his chair, his hand covering his mouth as he muttered softly, “Damn!

Can he really do this without money?”

Meanwhile, the Red Devil, who was enjoying the spectacle, couldn’t help but slap his thigh and burst into laughter, “Arthur, you little scoundrel, even you have moments of oversight!

You knew bringing a little Bonaparte imp here might work on the French, but you probably didn’t expect it to work this well!”

Louis, caught off guard, was firstly stunned for moments before also becoming somewhat excited and emotional.

He lamented, “Mr.

Bertrand, please rise.

I am grateful for your loyalty to France, but this honor is not mine.

Just as you said, it belongs to that man.”

Seeing this, Arthur also nodded slightly and said, “Mr.

Bertrand, as Louis has said, you should rise.

Even if you want to swear allegiance like a medieval knight, you still have to duel with me first, right?”

Upon hearing this, Bertrand shakily used the table to help himself up, his hands still trembling slightly, showing his excitement was genuine.

For such a steadfast Bonapartist, nothing was more pleasing than meeting a core member of the Bonaparte family.

He first took several deep breaths, then squeezed out a slight smile, “Excuse me, Hasting, I lost my composure.

But I feel that today’s duel is no longer necessary.

I could not raise my hand against you, nor could I stain my sword with the blood of a close comrade of the Bonaparte family, especially when you are also my friend, I…”

Upon hearing this, Louis quickly interrupted, repeatedly questioning, “But if you don’t duel, what about the script and your honor…”

Bertrand waved his hand, seemingly having come to terms with it.

He drew his police saber, gracefully using the blade to make a flourishing gesture, “Your Excellency, for me, serving the Bonaparte family is the greatest honor.

Moreover, this aligns wonderfully with my friendship with Mr.

Hasting.

Winning or losing is a trivial matter.

If I can’t see past such a small thing, what face would I have to call myself the Paris Sword Saint?

I am merely complimented as the Foil Napoleon, but right now, the real Napoleon is standing before me, how could I brazenly compete with him?”

While Louis was still inclined to persuade him based on the good impression from Bertrand’s earlier speech, “But still…”

By then, Bertrand had already made up his mind.

He firmly grasped the handle of his briefcase, lifting it up, his expression solemn as he loudly declared, “Your Excellency, please do not persuade me further!

I have made up my mind!

Mr.

Hasting, the script, I choose the second.

For both honor and friendship, you must certainly defeat me!”