Chapter 18
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 18
‘Look at this little punk.’
When he first heard the word "sparring," Lucian felt a surge of annoyance.
Not only were the other boy's intentions transparent, but the situation itself was overwhelmingly disadvantageous.
‘He might be a sixteen-year-old greenhorn, but he’s been properly trained for longer than I have. Besides, I can’t use my old sword techniques, and this body isn't fully conditioned yet. A head-on clash would be bad.’
In a fight between novices who can't use high-level techniques, strength is everything.
The harder you swing, the faster and more powerful the strike becomes, making it harder to block.
But Lucian wasn't just barred from using his techniques; his body was still weakened from years of dissipation. There was no way he could win a contest of pure strength against Joshua, who had been training diligently.
‘Tsk. If I only had two more months, I could have wiped the floor with him.’
Though this body was blessed with talent, the purity of its mana would only show its true value after sufficient training. It wasn't much help in a novice brawl where raw stamina and basic proficiency decided the outcome.
It was a coincidence, but the timing was truly impeccable.
However, if he avoided the spar now, the reputation he had worked so hard to build would surely crack.
‘It can’t be helped. I’ll have to push through with experience and aim for a draw.’
His techniques were sealed and his body was weak, but he had combat experience in spades.
In contrast, Joshua was a brat who had never swung a sword on a real battlefield.
If he squeezed out every bit of what he had left, a draw might just be possible.
As Lucian was weighing his options, an unexpected proposal reached his ears.
“Since we have the opportunity, why don't we test ourselves with real swords?”
Lucian’s eyes snapped open at Joshua’s words.
Not wooden swords, but real ones?
Well, that changed everything!
“That’s a wonderful idea! Let’s do it right now!”
“...!?”
The two men stared at Lucian with bewildered expressions.
They were worried enough about him using wooden swords, yet here he was, welcoming the use of live blades?
Eisen, in particular, seemed to have gravely misunderstood something as he grabbed Lucian’s shoulder and shouted.
“Third Young Master! How can you be so reckless when you’ve never even held a real sword before!”
“What does it matter? Isn't swordsmanship meant for using a sword in the first place? Using a real sword instead of a wooden one will be better for developing a sense for actual combat.”
“That applies to experts! Do you have any idea how many beginners injure themselves by swinging a blade incorrectly!?”
“I’ve heard a thing or two about it.”
In truth, he hadn't just heard about it; he had experienced it firsthand.
If you don't control your strength properly when swinging, it’s easy for the sword to fly out of your hand and gash your shoulder or thigh.
Back when Lucian was a novice teaching himself the sword, he had injured himself like that twice.
But he feigned ignorance, keeping a perfectly straight face.
“Still, this is a spar. To avoid causing injury, we’ll be holding back as much as possible. Wouldn't that be less dangerous than a training session where we swing with all our might? Don't worry.”
“No, that’s...!”
“My brother is absolutely right. Master, please do not worry so much. Surely you don't think I would use this blade to harm my own brother?”
Eisen squeezed his eyes shut.
Since both parties were in agreement, he no longer had a pretext to stop them.
As Eisen gave a reluctant nod with a sigh, a cold smile played on Joshua’s lips.
“Hand a sword to my brother.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
The moment the command was given, a servant respectfully presented a sword with both hands.
Without a moment's hesitation, Lucian snatched the weapon from the servant’s grip.
“Ah, this cold, heavy sensation....”
Watching Lucian admire the blade with such visible emotion, Joshua swallowed a sneer.
‘What an idiot. Does he still not realize what’s happening?’
It might be a man’s instinct to be drawn to a fine weapon, but to be that carefree when that very weapon was about to be pointed at his own throat was beyond foolish.
‘Well, I suppose it works out for me. If he’s distracted by the sword, the terror he feels when we actually clash will be even more delicious.’
Joshua’s goal from the start was to instill fear in Lucian.
By exposing the boy’s trembling form to the world, he intended to shatter the reputation Lucian had built.
The only witnesses were those present, but that didn't matter.
The fact that Sword Saint Eisen wouldn't be able to deny it would be evidence enough.
“If you are ready, both of you, draw your swords.”
Shring—
Lucian and Joshua drew their swords simultaneously, without a hair's breadth of difference.
With a clear metallic ring, two snow-white blades revealed themselves.
It was a sight of peerless beauty, but those who had crossed blades with an equal or superior opponent knew the truth.
The moment that chilling edge touches your nape, your mind goes blank.
Nothing remains but the desperate urge to survive.
‘Let’s see what kind of face my brother makes.’
Chuckling as he imagined the scene about to unfold, Joshua took his stance.
“Begin.”
Whoosh!
The moment the signal was given, a sharp blade came flying toward Joshua’s head.
Clang!
“Ugh!”
“Third Young Master!?”
“Young Master!”
Three voices of shock echoed through the training grounds along with the sound of colliding steel.
Despite it being a real sword, it was a merciless diagonal slash.
If Joshua hadn't managed to block it, he would have been sliced from his shoulder to his abdomen.
But Lucian, indifferent to the reactions around him, swung his sword again.
Clang! Clang! Clack!
“You crazy...!”
Every time the swords sparked, Joshua felt his blood run cold.
Every single attack was at a level that would cause a fatal wound if blocked incorrectly.
To launch such a murderous assault in a spar with real swords, of all things.
‘This half-wit! Is he actually trying to kill me here?!’
Joshua gritted his teeth, finally regaining his senses.
As he began to read the trajectory of the attacks, his fear was replaced by rage.
“With just this much—!”
Claaaang!
Joshua parried the incoming strike to the side with all his strength.
As Lucian’s posture broke from the impact, Joshua aimed his second attack at Lucian's legs.
He wouldn't kill him, but he intended to lash his thigh with the flat of the blade.
But before he could, Lucian’s leg moved first.
Thud!
“Gah!?”
“Hoh.”
A cry of shock escaped Joshua’s mouth, while a gasp of admiration came from Eisen.
Lucian had stopped the incoming blade by stepping firmly on its side.
“What in the—!”
Joshua was utterly bewildered by the unexpected response.
He didn't parry it; he stepped on it?
This wasn't swordsmanship; it was a tavern brawl!
However, Sword Saint Eisen, watching from the side, was impressed by Lucian’s resourcefulness.
‘Remarkable. That’s the kind of tactic you usually only see from a veteran who’s survived countless battles.’
Eisen knew how vital improvisation was in a real fight—moves that weren't in any manual.
An enemy doesn't always fight you when you're in perfect condition to use your techniques.
Losing your sword, having your movements restricted by a severe wound, or being unable to use a technique because of soft terrain were all common occurrences.
Sometimes, the gap in skill was so vast that pure swordsmanship offered no path to victory.
In those moments, catching an opponent off guard with improvisation was crucial.
In fact, Eisen had seen many talented knights lose their lives early because they couldn't think on their feet in an unexpected situation.
To Eisen’s eyes, Lucian seemed to possess something akin to a wild, predatory instinct in that regard.
“Damn it!”
When the pinned sword wouldn't budge, Joshua cursed and yanked his body back with all his might.
And at that exact moment, Lucian lifted his foot from the blade.
“Ugh!?”
With the downward pressure suddenly gone, Joshua’s body lurched.
Combined with the weight of the sword he was pulling, he couldn't regain his balance.
By the time he managed to steady himself without falling, Lucian’s sword was already flying toward his throat.
“W-Wait...!”
Ssh—
“Aaaagh!”
“Young Master!”
The servant screamed and rushed toward his master, who was letting out a deathly gasp.
To think he would actually cut him down without a moment's hesitation!
Gasping for air, Joshua clutched his throat where the cold metal had just swept past.
‘Am I dying? Just like this? So pointlessly?’
A wave of overwhelming terror washed over him as his life flashed before his eyes.
Had he lived so desperately just to be killed by a madman in a place like this?
He felt like he was going to burst into tears from the sheer unfairness of it all.
In the midst of the chaos, the servant frantically pulled a cloth from his shirt and pressed it forward.
“Y-Young Master! I’ll stop the bleeding!”
“It’s no use. With a cut this deep... Huh?”
Lamenting his fate, Joshua noticed something strange.
If his throat had been slashed that violently, how was he able to speak so clearly?
With a flicker of hope, he pulled his hands away from his neck.
“...Young Master, there’s no blood.”
“What!?”
Startled, Joshua fumbled at his neck, but his hands came away clean.
Far from a fatal wound, his skin was as smooth as ever, without even a scratch.
Lucian tilted his head as he watched the two of them panic.
“What are you doing all of a sudden? Collapsing in the middle of a spar.”
“No, just now... my neck... the sword....”
“Yeah, I brought it to your neck and swiped. I just pressed the flat of the blade against you so it wouldn't leave a mark.”
“...!”
Because the thin edge had brushed past his throat, he was certain he had been cut.
But in reality, Lucian had only let the flat of the blade touch him, tricking him into thinking he was dead.
‘Then, until now, I was clutching my neck even though I wasn't even bleeding...!’
He felt his vision go red with shame and fury.
This half-wit dared to toy with him?
To hell with the spar; he was going to kill him right now!
Just as Joshua, consumed by emotion, was about to spring up—
“Stop.”
Eisen had approached and was now pressing down firmly on Joshua’s shoulder.
Feeling the rock-like pressure from the palm, Joshua felt his reason return.
But that didn't mean his anger had subsided.
He had been utterly humiliated; he couldn't just back down like this!
“Sir Eisen, I apologize, but the spar isn't over—”
“It is over. I believe I said it would be decided in one bout from the start.”
“That was—!”
“Do not go back on your word, Fourth Young Master. If you are to carry the name of Valdek, your words must carry weight.”
“....”
Under the aura radiating from the Sword Saint, Joshua shrank like a mouse before a cat.
He had already pushed Eisen’s buttons by forcing the spar in the first place.
If he acted out any further, the Sword Saint might take it upon himself to subdue him personally, regardless of his status as the Fourth Young Master.
It was only after Joshua reluctantly lowered his sword and took a step back that Lucian spoke up.
“It ended a bit too quickly, but that wasn't bad. You reacted quite well, even though you were terrified.”
“...!”
“Still, having your legs give out just because a blade touched your neck is a bit much. And you're supposed to be one of the candidates for the head of the family. You have a long way to go, little brother. Haha!”
Joshua gritted his teeth at Lucian’s mockery.
His face, which had briefly paled, turned a shade of crimson so deep it looked ready to burst.
According to his original plan, their positions should have been reversed. How did it come to this?
Before any more taunts could follow, Joshua stood up abruptly.
“The spar is over, so I shall take my leave.”
“Right. It’s a good sword. Take it with you.”
“Keep it. I’ll just give it to you.”
Desperate to leave as quickly as possible, Joshua turned his back immediately.
But Lucian’s voice didn't stop, even as Joshua began to hurry away.
“Don't be too discouraged! It’s just a spar; you’re bound to lose sometimes! You’ll win one day! Just not today!”
“....”
“By the way, are you sure I can have the sword? I’ll hang it up as a trophy! Since it’s the sword that beat my little brother!”
‘That son of a...!’