Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP. 9 – The Knight Instructor's Job is Rewarding (2)
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The man appeared ordinary at first glance.
Ah, correction.
He did stand out with his stunningly beautiful features, far from ordinary.
His looks were like something carved directly by a master sculptor of renown.
His demeanor was so coldly aloof that if he stayed still, others might mistake him for a statue.
So, in that sense, he was ordinary.
His face could draw admiration from men and women alike, but his utterly expressionless visage gave off nothing.
Only a candle-like stillness emanated from him, the bare minimum warmth anyone human would have.
In other words, his presence felt faintly indistinct.
If his surname weren't Lionel, no one would have found him intimidating.
However...
Shring.
The moment he drew his sword,
his presence was no longer faint, nor was it a mere candle flame.
It was chilling.
The air around him suddenly stiffened, enveloped by a sharp, eerie aura like a blizzard raging.
He had merely raised his sword, yet he was now an entirely different person from moments before.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a complete transformation.
Roan Dimitri de Lionel.
He stood out more than anyone Lee Han had faced so far.
And everyone felt it—especially Lee Han, who stood before him.
'This guy's not even trying to hide that he's a reincarnator.'
Lee Han couldn't help but scoff inwardly.
Isn't this a bit too obvious?
Shring.
Unlike opponents wielding unusual polearms, the sword Roan held was a simple straight longsword.
A blade with no distinctive features.
It seemed forged from high-purity steel, but it was still just an ordinary iron sword.
Yet the moment Roan gripped it, the sword seemed to transform into a famed blade.
It was the result of the intense aura Lee Han had emphasized flowing into that plain sword.
An unnatural aura.
What was the term for an aura like that...?
'Ghostfire?'
As if ghostfire were flickering around it?
Lee Han wasn't sure if that was the right expression, but that's how it looked to others.
This was no ordinary aura. It wasn't something a mere twenty-year-old novice could emit—it was the seasoned pressure of a veteran warrior who'd rolled through battlefields for a decade.
So, he was no one to judge by appearances alone.
He could confidently be called a fully accomplished swordsman.
Inexperienced warriors might mistake him for a genius and admire him accordingly,
but someone with Lee Han's honed senses, or a battlefield veteran, would see it instantly.
This wasn't genius—it was simply a swordsman perfected over long years.
...Especially thick with killing intent.
Whoosh, whoosh!
But Lee Han casually swung his wooden sword.
As the unnatural aura tried to envelop him, he swung reflexively, each motion cutting the air with ominous sounds that grew faster and faster.
At some point, the wooden sword moved so swiftly it became invisible!
Whoosh—!
"—Alright, let's begin."
"......"
"Come at me."
"...It feels like you'd slice me if I rushed in now."
"Don't exaggerate."
The opponent's aura shattered before it could even pour forth.
The cadets, including Roan, witnessed it.
They saw the marks Lee Han's wooden sword had left on the ground.
The dirt was gouged as if clawed by the sword's wind pressure, without even touching it. The cadets swallowed dryly.
Only then did it hit them anew.
That man is strong.
And that fact
"I'll come at you."
brought a smile to Roan's face.
A perfect,
mad cackle.
Roan moved first.
Whoosh—!
The incoming thrust targeted his eyes without hesitation, incredibly dangerous.
But Lee Han
"Trying to make a blind man out of me?"
"Wasn't it not much of a threat?"
Clang!
calmly dodged without even blinking, swinging his wooden sword down like a strike.
Roan blocked it swiftly, but he couldn't fully deflect the impact.
His arm throbbed painfully, so he stepped back and asked,
"...You channeled the flow internally, not externally."
"It's a technique I've been practicing lately. Seems useful?"
"Extremely threatening."
"It's still not ready for real combat, but it's perfect for dealing with novices."
"Good thing I'm not a novice, then."
It was a strike infused with internal weight transfer, but it didn't faze Roan.
By momentarily strengthening his internal flow, Roan's body neutralized the flow Lee Han had infiltrated.
However,
"Your raw power is impressive."
"That's my strong suit."
Even shattering the shock from that overwhelming physical strength was impossible.
Bam!
Seizing the moment Roan's body stiffened, Lee Han stepped forward, cratering the ground under his explosive leg strength.
That powerful step delivered immense pressure.
Boom!
Lee Han's wooden sword struck Roan's blade precisely. Roan tried to parry and counter-slash simultaneously...!
Ching...!
"......"
But the wooden sword didn't chip.
On the contrary, it held firmness rivaling iron, enduring the sharp edge.
Confused, Roan swung again.
The sword shadows formed three times.
Three strikes in an instant, yet again,
Clang clang!
they were blocked.
Utterly effortlessly.
And Roan felt pain in his own palms instead.
What is this?
'Feels like hitting a rock.'
Like slashing at a boulder.
No, it wasn't just a feeling—it truly felt like striking stone.
What sorcery was this?
To the cadets filled with questions, Lee Han fulfilled his instructor's duty by explaining,
"I'm not well-versed in Fighting Techniques. No one taught me, and they're stingy with teachings because they're 'secret arts.' But I do know how the 'power' in my body works."
"...What."
"Power isn't just about lifting heavy things. It's the collective of bones, tendons, and muscles. The art of wielding that power properly is called jing. It means 'the way of making firm.'"
"......"
"Another name for it is Vajra. It's the method of transmitting internal power not just through the body, but to tools as well. And when you can do that."
Bam!
"You can pull off things like this."
The blades clashed again, but the wooden sword remained unscathed, repelling Roan like an iron club.
If Roan hadn't mitigated the impact, he'd have been sent tumbling ingloriously.
But Roan was more shocked by Lee Han's technique than his body briefly floating in the air.
Despite learning no systematic methods, Lee Han displayed a 'personal Fighting Technique' born from pure instinct and sensation.
"...I've never thought myself dim-witted, but everything you show is beyond my comprehension."
"Heh, that's because I'm bad at explaining. Most of my techniques came from实战 and feel, not theory."
"......Most would call that genius."
"Music to my ears."
But Lee Han denied it.
This was more about imagination than talent.
The vast 'knowledge' from his past life sparked his creativity, and he merely manifested what he could envision into reality.
Still,
'Sounds good to me.'
...The cadets watched the duel between Lee Han and Roan with bated breath.
Thirty exchanges so far.
No blades had touched flesh; they clashed repeatedly without quarter.
A sword fight yielding not an inch.
Some watched with jealousy and envy.
At a peer their age being so strong.
Others despaired against the wall of irrational talent.
But some
"The instructor's wooden sword is reaching its limit."
"Young Master Roan too."
"...Monsters, trying to shatter an iron sword with a wooden one."
gauged the gap between them and themselves, calculating how to surpass it.
"...Wow, this is why people watch fights."
[Arina, that's all your reaction?]
"Hmm, it's flashy?"
[...Arina, don't call yourself a mage out there. I'm embarrassed.]
"What're you saying."
...There were spectators enjoying it purely with innocent eyes.
But duels can't last forever.
Both swords had reached their limits.
So Lee Han proposed a final clash.
"How about we go all out for the last one?"
"...What do you mean?"
"Show me your real strength. You're holding back, even if what you've shown is impressive. I'd like to see the true you."
"......"
Bring out what you're hiding.
For the first time, Roan flinched at those words.
"Didn't notice at first, but the more we go, the more I sense it."
Roan was undoubtedly strong.
More seasoned than any cadet before him, unmatched in technique and Fighting arts.
A thoroughly satisfying opponent.
...Yet something felt off.
Was it a gambler's intuition?
Or the product of countless battlefield experiences?
Lee Han was certain.
'There's more to him.'
What he'd shown was merely average for him.
There was definitely something else.
With that thought, he urged Roan to unleash everything, but Roan hesitated.
Lee Han was inwardly pleased.
Not just because his hunch was right, but because he wanted a proper finale to the duel.
The swords would break anyway.
Wasn't a decisive end more thrilling than this precarious tightrope?
The finishing touch.
Lee Han hoped this duel would end refreshingly for both.
Perhaps their top observation target felt the same—a small hopeful thought—
"—No, I forfeit."
"...Huh?"
"It feels like it's overheating too much; I don't think I can continue."
"......"
...That hope remained just a hope. Lee Han had apparently been the only one thinking that way.
Roan flashed a suave smile and gestured around.
"The original purpose of this spar was to make those who doubted you acknowledge you as instructor. And now, that goal is achieved for everyone. Continuing would be pointless, no? I think it's time to stop as well."
"...This guy."
Unlike his looks, he was slyly perceptive.
Lee Han feigned disappointment, but alas,
"Not looking forward to the event with Uncle Baltar?"
"Sorry, but I'm more eager for your teachings than meeting Sir Baltar."
"...You don't look that diligent."
"You shouldn't judge people by appearances, right?"
"...You've got me there."
With the eagerly awaited big event ending so anticlimactically, Lee Han had no retort and finally lowered his wooden sword.
He wasn't the type to force a fight on someone who didn't want to continue.
Still,
'Damn, there's definitely more.'
Considering the presumed reincarnator's endless hidden techniques, it was a regrettable conclusion.
"...Hmm."
Lee Han looked sullen.
'...That was close.'
Roan was surprised at himself.
To think such feelings still lingered within him.
'Competitive spirit? The fire of youth in this young body is frightening.'
He'd thought such things burned to ash long ago, yet they remained.
'Heh, maybe it's because it's been so long since a pure fight like this.'
A pure contest.
No—the clean competitive spirit emanating from his opponent.
Facing it stirred memories of his reckless youth.
Not his current youth,
but the 'youth' only Roan remembered.
Recollections of that day.
...And
'This time, I must stop it.'
To prevent that tragedy, that catastrophe...
'This time, I'll kill you.'
He recalled his prey, the one he must slay.
'Isis Irene de Pendragon. I'll drive a blade into your throat without fail.'
That would be the day his vengeance was fulfilled.
Roan reaffirmed his resolve.
As if youth were a luxury he couldn't afford until his goal was met.
Thus, he suppressed his true nature.
For the day of reckoning that would eventually come.