The Warrior Speaks with the Sword (15)
"Benefactor..."
"Mok Kyung. A warrior speaks with his sword. If you have something to say, let your blade deliver the message."
"Understood, Benefactor."
To think I would end up crossing swords with the protagonist like this.
William gazed at Mok Kyung, his face etched with deep emotion.
For now, focus only on the duel.
Mok Kyung met his eyes and steadied his breathing. Though fighting his benefactor stirred some reluctance, this was a spar, not a battle to the death. He quickly composed himself.
Naturally, William’s swordsmanship rose in his mind.
Benefactor’s style is defined by parries and fluid movement. I’ve seen it countless times. If I stay alert, I have every chance of victory.
The fact that they had clashed blades while preparing for the tournament would come back to him in this way. Mok Kyung watched William assume his stance, eyes uncertain whether to rejoice at the coincidence or feel uneasy about it.
Ox stance.
It was a familiar posture. William had used it most often, so Mok Kyung knew exactly what kinds of attacks and defenses flowed from it.
That stance handles offense and defense from every direction. Using a secret technique here would be meaningless.
Powerful strikes would simply be deflected. No one in the Central Plains understood that truth better than William, which meant the opening of this spar would inevitably become a quiet standoff.
Battle always came down to either finding an opening or forcibly creating one. That principle applied to William as well.
Now that he has reached the Peak realm, he’ll be far more troublesome than before.
The dozen phantom swords he once produced might now number close to a hundred. Such a feat would normally require extensive training after breaking into the Peak realm, but that logic only applied to ordinary martial artists. It did not apply to Mok Kyung, who possessed the greatest talent the murim had ever seen.
The opponent is the protagonist this world openly favors. He might grow stronger mid-fight. And… my swordsmanship is already well-known to him. I may very well be countered for the first time.
After several previous spars, the strengths and weaknesses of William’s longsword style had surely been dissected. That fact alone placed him at a disadvantage in this duel.
…Still, the match has already begun. I need to cast distracting thoughts aside.
William observed Mok Kyung while holding his stance. The opening posture was familiar. The eyes were familiar.
Should I attack first? Or wait for a counter?
Since the duel had to end eventually, one of them would have to commit. Unless they were merely discussing theory, someone’s sword had to move. William sprang forward.
Do what must be done.
Those were the words his commander had repeated every time he taught him swordsmanship. Recalling them, William swung at Mok Kyung’s waist.
The longsword drove forward honestly, without the slightest tremor, aiming straight for the midsection.
Mok Kyung immediately raised his blade. The impact rang through his palm.
Neither heavy nor light. A probing strike.
Only fools poured everything into the first move. The moment his sword was blocked, William withdrew it and swung again—this time diagonally from above, aiming for the chest.
It was blocked just as naturally. The clear ring of clashing steel echoed brightly across the arena.
The pattern continued: William attacking, Mok Kyung defending. There was no sword qi, no flashy techniques, yet the audience watched their sword dance in utter silence. At a glance, the way they read each other felt remarkably refined. Such composed duels had been rare throughout the entire tournament.
Simple attacks are nothing but stamina drain. So that’s how it is.
The core of longsword technique lay in flowing from stance to stance, chaining transitions into attacks to seize the initiative. Yet Mok Kyung refused to surrender that initiative easily.
He’s guarding thoroughly against me closing the distance. He won’t give me any room to enter a grapple.
Understanding that once caught he would be finished, Mok Kyung refused to fall for William’s subtle invitations to counter.
A battle of patience, then? Or should I press harder?
The Heavenly Sword, at its peak, overwhelmed opponents with supreme speed and illusion. Having reached the Peak realm himself, losing the initiative completely would put him at a severe disadvantage no matter the gap in cultivation.
Therefore, William decided to roll the dice.
Wrap the foot in internal energy and release a small burst from the toes. The body will spring forward with explosive speed.
A technique recorded in the Shadowless Divine Step manual. Failure would be disastrous, but then he simply had to succeed.
William feinted a transition into Pflug and sprang forward.
Now!
The sudden charge from such close range left little room for footwork to evade. Mok Kyung’s sword hurriedly swept aside the thrust, but he could not prevent William from seizing his collar.
“You startled me.”
“I’m even more surprised.”
He isn’t being lifted? So this is the Thousand Pound Drop I’ve only heard about.
Thousand Pound Drop—a technique that used internal energy to increase one’s body weight and hold firm.
A piece of long-forgotten knowledge resurfaced. William retreated three steps and resumed the Ox stance. He had no choice. Mok Kyung’s sword had already grazed past his chest.
“Apologies, but I have already analyzed your methods, Benefactor.”
“Yes, I expected as much.”
Since he had anticipated it, William accepted the statement calmly. After all, he too had witnessed the Heavenly Sword with his own eyes and experienced it firsthand.
He clearly has no intention of falling for Kampfringen. I’ll have to abandon throws.
William closed the distance once more. With wrestling no longer a viable option, his strikes became lighter and faster than before. He could not afford to overextend and invite a counter.
The continuous transitions from stance to stance pressured Mok Kyung, preventing him from swinging recklessly. Yet Mok Kyung calmly deflected each blow while steadily analyzing the technique’s true nature.
Mid-section.
The middle of the sword. A gap appeared. A razor-thin gap.
The instant William withdrew his blade, Mok Kyung closed the distance in a flash.
An approach at an unexpected moment. William struck down each of the ten swords that assailed his vital points simultaneously, eyes locked on Mok Kyung.
So he’s turning aggressive now.
But William had expected even this.
I can’t go down that easily.
The moment the swords were deflected, William’s longsword charged like a predator that had scented blood.
As the sharp, precise blade flew toward his throat, Mok Kyung dropped low to evade and slashed at William’s leg. But such a counter was familiar to any knight. William’s sword plunged downward as if to stab the ground, blocking the strike perfectly.
“Your sword is fierce.”
“Benefactor’s is the same.”
“I still have plenty I haven’t shown you.”
“I look forward to it.”
He hasn’t entered the state of no-self. That means the situation isn’t critical yet.
William did not know the exact conditions. He only knew that until Mok Kyung reached the Super Peak realm, he was carried along by the terrifying talent granted by heaven. Therefore, he intended to subdue him before that state could manifest.
Time to throw the decisive move.
The moment they returned to a standoff, William charged forward again. It was far from flashy or acrobatic, yet the combination of his size and skill created overwhelming pressure.
Mok Kyung calmly adjusted his grip to meet the rush.
He’s trying to seize the initiative again, but…!
As if to forcibly halt the charge, Mok Kyung’s sword began to multiply.
Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty… One hundred!
A hundred blades descended from every direction, threatening to carve William into pieces. It looked like he would have to stop his charge immediately.
Instead, William gently gripped the blade between its tip and center and leapt straight into the wave of swords. The movement looked so suicidal that gasps rose from the stands. Nothing appeared more reckless than diving into a tidal wave of blades.
Everyone held their breath as the two collided.
How would the Western swordsman break through that wave?
Who would emerge as the victor?
Good thing I never showed them this.
Holding the sword like a short spear, William found the single real blade among the hundred illusions and met it head-on.
He grabbed the blade?
Sparks flew. At the same moment, William’s foot slipped between Mok Kyung’s legs. In complete close quarters, he twisted his body. Mok Kyung’s entangled sword was caught in the motion. Using his opponent’s twisting form as a pivot, William spun once and took his back.
The entire sequence happened in the blink of an eye. Mok Kyung could not react in time. He had never seen or heard of swordsmanship that gripped the middle of the blade and wielded it like a short spear.
“…I have lost.”
Feeling the blade pressed against his neck, Mok Kyung acknowledged defeat.
The winner of the spar! The champion of the grand tournament is the Blue-Eyed Lion, William!
And so, the champion of the tournament was decided.