Warriors Speak Through Their Swords (3)
“Uncle, who do you think is the strongest over there?”
“Hmm… I’d say that bald guy looks the strongest.”
The way he calmly assessed the situation suggested plenty of experience in these matters. Though the oversized axe made him seem weaker than he probably was.
Axes were best when they could be thrown at a reasonable size, after all.
Deputy Commander Gerard had been exceptionally skilled at throwing axes. At that level, it was fair to say he had practically created his own art. He could hurl a hand axe and split an enemy’s head from fifty meters away. It was practically sniping. No wonder his enemies had called him the Devil of Francisca.
Back in my rookie days, I had owed my life to that axe more than once.
…Though in the end, an enemy’s thrown axe had buried itself in his neck and killed him.
“Uncle?”
“Ah. Sorry. Got lost in old memories…”
“Enough with the dark thoughts. Let’s just watch!”
“Right, right…”
I turned my gaze back to the front. The eighth preliminary match was about to begin.
“The referee’s out! Looks like they’re starting soon…”
Don’t cling to me like that.
“The eighth match begins now!”
A strangely familiar announcement rang out, and the eighth match started immediately.
“They’re still just sizing each other up, same as before.”
“Unless you’re truly confident in your skills, it’s hard to make the first move!”
“Maybe they’re looking for allies. Or perhaps they already coordinated beforehand…”
Fifty martial artists stood in the spacious arena, weapons in hand, watching one another warily. The scene was dull for ordinary spectators, but for martial artists, it held a certain fascination.
“Group eight doesn’t seem to have anyone particularly outstanding.”
“Group seven had that Mok Yeong-ho fellow…”
That guy had been skilled enough to reach the quarterfinals or semifinals. I believe he joined the Azure Dragon or White Tiger unit later. He had real potential.
“How long do you think this one will last?”
“It’ll be over within two quarters at most—thirty minutes. If the forces are evenly matched, the side that loses momentum could collapse in an instant.”
In a chaotic melee, the most important things were simple.
First, avoid becoming a target for multiple opponents.
Second, erase your presence.
Without those two, surviving a free-for-all was nearly impossible. Unless, like a knight, you wore chainmail and deployed aura armor. With extreme defensive power that deflected aura and arrows alike, you could simply wade in and strike down enemies one-sidedly even in the midst of chaos.
“Ah, they’re finally starting to move.”
“Looks like their patience ran out.”
A somewhat awkward-looking young man who seemed to have just reached adulthood swung his sword. From the form, he appeared to be a newly minted second-class martial artist. As his blade lashed toward the man beside him, the others who had been watching one another began swinging their weapons one by one.
The bald man I had picked out did not join the melee. Instead, he quietly stepped back and released his presence. A true veteran through and through. A match against Hye-ryeong might prove troublesome.
While I was lost in thought, twenty people were eliminated in the blink of an eye. Most had either dropped their weapons or suffered serious injuries. The losers were carried out on stretchers or left the arena with sullen expressions.
“He’s moving now.”
“You’re right—the bald man is joining in!”
…Did he just glance this way, or was that my imagination?
Regardless, the bald man lifted the axe slung over his shoulder and began cutting down opponents one by one. The sight of weapons shattering and flying through the air beneath his muscular, almost porcine forearms carried a certain exhilarating quality.
“Wow, ten people in an instant…”
“Group eight really was just a bunch of mediocre fighters packed together.”
No unexpected dark horse had appeared. Not that I had expected one—I already knew the outcome from the original story. Still, it was a relief that the original hadn’t twisted from this point onward.
“The winner of group eight is Song Mu-han of Paeryeokbu!”
“Uncle, it’s your turn now!”
“Right. I’ll be back.”
“You have to win!”
“Of course.”
Losing in the preliminaries would be too embarrassing to live down. I stretched lightly and headed for the waiting area.
“The ninth match begins now!”
‘Finally.’
William stood in a corner of the arena with his arms crossed. The opening would be nothing but a vicious staring contest anyway. He had no intention of revealing his full strength during the preliminaries. As a foreigner, he already stood out; if he rampaged from the start, someone might prepare a counter for his longsword style. While longsword techniques weren’t easily countered by prepared counters, the world still contained mad geniuses. Caution never hurt, so William took a deep breath and steadied his mind.
‘First, observe the situation.’
Just like the previous match, the martial artists hesitated, watching one another. William felt countless gazes directed at him as he slowly drew his longsword. A long blade, different from the swords used in the Central Plains.
‘It’s long.’
‘With that length, approaching carelessly would be…’
‘A foreigner with a sword like that doesn’t suit him.’
Among the black-haired martial artists stood one with yellow hair. Naturally, not only the fighters but the spectators as well found their eyes drawn to him. William sighed inwardly, gripped the sword with both hands, and lowered the point to the ground.
Alber.
Assuming the low guard—one of the four fundamental longsword stances—he quietly closed his eyes. It was an invitation: come if you dare. Yet none of the martial artists dared approach him recklessly.
‘What kind of presence is that…’
‘His aura alone is crushing my heart. Where did such a master come from…’
‘He’s not someone I can handle.’
“Jegal, look over there. They’re so terrified they can’t even move. And they call themselves righteous faction martial artists…”
At Namgung Hwi’s gruff remark, Jegal Hyeon-sang smiled and replied.
“Young Master Namgung, how could a wolf bare its fangs before a tiger? Simply standing still with his sword lowered has already seized control of the arena. Any clumsy move would mean immediate elimination.”
“Haha! What an impressive master! I’m dying to cross blades with him right now!”
Paeng Jeok-san laughed heartily and took a long swig straight from his bottle. He looked every bit the drunkard, yet Jegal Hyeon-sang merely waved the scent away with his fan, accustomed to the sight.
“This will likely be the preliminary match with the most alliances formed so far.”
As Jegal Hyeon-sang predicted, the martial artists began turning toward William one by one. Their intent was clear: eliminate the greatest threat first.
Yet William’s expression remained unchanged. He simply maintained his stance, standing motionless.
‘I can’t kill them, so this is the limit of what I can do.’
This was not a battlefield. He could not commit the same cruelties. William pushed the rising memories of war from his mind, opened his eyes, and glared at the martial artists slowly closing in.
‘A coordinated attack.’
It was crude compared to a sword formation using the same technique, but fighting multiple opponents still meant four or five blades would come at him whenever he swung once. No matter how superior his realm, he could not afford to be careless.
Thus, William suddenly stepped forward. His target was the weakest-looking martial artist among those surrounding him. The man swung his sword in panic as the massive foreigner charged. The strike lacked proper force and could not halt William’s advance.
William deflected the blade aside with the inner edge of his sword and drove his fist into the man’s face. The martial artist flew three jang before convulsing and collapsing. Medical hall physicians rushed over and carried him away.
“He sent a man flying three jang in one blow…”
Reading the stiffened atmosphere, William immediately swung his sword horizontally at another martial artist who stood frozen in an awkward stance. It was a clean, honest strike.
The man raised his sword to block. ‘It feels like being struck by a hammer…’
The sword vibrated, and so did the man’s body. He gritted his teeth and endured. If he could hold on even briefly, the others would attack the foreigner.
At the same time, William’s body was left completely exposed. The other martial artists could strike his back.
But William paid them no mind. He took a large step toward the man whose sword he had blocked, naturally circled to the side, used the man’s body as a shield to stop the incoming strikes from behind, then met the eyes of a second-class martial artist and kicked him with an aura-infused foot.
The second-class martial artist, caught off guard, flew through the air just like the first. The physicians hurried over once more.
“You too.”
“Aaaagh!”
The man who had crossed swords once now found himself used as a meat shield. William grabbed him by the nape and hurled him outside the arena.
‘Three people in an instant…’
‘If we approach carelessly, we’ll be eliminated before we can even do anything!’
The martial artists who did not wish to be eliminated in such a pathetic manner took a step back and began watching one another again. William rolled his neck from side to side, loosening up.
‘I’d like to deal with the moderately strong ones first.’
At the sight of him, the crowd’s gazes began to gather. The Blue-Eyed Lion’s true might was finally being revealed before the martial world’s peers.